Authors Note: I do not own Sherlock or the wonderful version of Sherlock BBC. Nor do I own Harry Potter. Nor all the other characters I use in this. See the list at the bottom to find out who is from what.

Blood. There was so much blood. It was everywhere, staining his clothes. The pain was unbearable, rippling through his body. The attack wasn't over. Gunfire still sounded from all around them. All he could focus on though was the pain. It just hurt so much. He'd do anything to make it stop. Anything...

John Watson woke with a start. Looking around frantically, he realized he was safe at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. He relaxed back into his bedding, trying desperately to calm his breathing. It was the middle of the night and John really didn't want to "talk" to one of the Healers. They had been trying since his arrival to get him to talk about his experience, but he wasn't ready. To be honest, John didn't think he'd ever be ready. The good news was that his physical wounds had healed and they'd be releasing him in two days. The better news was that in a month he'd be starting at Hogwarts. John pulled the covers over his head, still tasting blood on his tongue.

A whistle pierced the air as the Hogwarts Express sat at Platform 9 ¾. Students rushed around the landing, looking for friends they hadn't seen over the summer months. Parents stood with their children, trying to get in last minute good-byes. First years stumbled around, uncertain of what to do.

John stood patiently, waiting to hand off his luggage to the train hands before climbing aboard. Even though this was his first year going to Hogwarts, he had been through the drill the past two years with Harry. As he stood there with his things, he noticed those around him starting to whisper and peek looks in his direction. John shifted awkwardly on his feet, cane helping to support his weight as he landed on his right leg.

"John? John Watson, is that you?" A voice sounded through the crowd. John turned to see a pudgy youth making his way over.

"Yes, um, hello..." John trailed off.

"Mike, Mike Stanford," the other boy offered helpfully, "We met at the Hospital Christmas party last year. My dad works with your uncle. So what's been up with you lately? Last I heard, you were abroad getting shot at. What happened?"

"I got shot," John replied awkwardly.

"Oh, right," the color drained from Mike's face, "Forgot. Hey, I'm really sorry about your uncle. I heard what happened."

"It's okay; I'm okay," John jumped in, wanting to avoid the sympathy conversion that always made him feel odd, "We really weren't that close."

"Oh, alright. Hey, you want to sit with me on the train? I'll buy you a hot chocolate from the trolley," Mike offered.

"Sure," John smiled, "I'd like that."

"Hufflepuff!"

John Watson felt color rise into his cheeks as the table directly to his right burst into cheers. He hopped of the stool he was sitting on and hobbled quickly over to join them. He was greeted by handshakes and smiling faces. John took his seat, turning to look over where Mike sat with the Ravenclaw second years. Mike just gave him a smile and shrugged. John didn't even bother to check for Harry's reaction.

The Headmaster gave his ending speech and platters of food appeared around the hall. Each table was now covered with delectable meals that smelled like heaven. John filled his plate and dove in. It wasn't until a couple minutes passed that he finally came up to breath again. He found that he was sitting next to a very tall girl with short brown hair. She had a strong build and a dreamer's hazel eyes. The girl smirked at him as he tried to wipe sauce off his face.

"Enjoying yourself?" She asked politely.

"Sorry," he mumbled into his lap.

"Oh it's okay, most people do that the first couple feasts. In fact," she leaned closer to whisper to him, "I know a few 7th years who still pig out every time."

"Hey! I heard that! Quit implying that I'm fat," called someone from down the table. She smiled as those around them roared into laughter.

"Stop eating so much and I will," she called back, she then turned to look at John, "So, Mister John Watson, how do you like Hogwarts?"

"It's amazing," he replied. That was an understatement. The Hall itself was enough to take a person's breath away. It's ceiling was currently a clear night sky, and candles floated lazily above the heads of the students.

"And how do you feel about being placed in Hufflepuff?" Even though the question was asked calmly, John felt as if he had be hit across the face. It must have shown because she smiled. "Don't worry, everyone feels like that at first. I seriously did."

"Does it ever go away?"

"Yeah, it takes some longer than others but eventually everyone comes around. And I think you'll fit in quite nicely, though. Now you better finish eating; the Prefects will be bringing you first years to the common room soon."

John took her advice and went back to attacking his plate. A few minutes later, a male prefect gathered all of them together and they headed out of the Great Hall. John turned to have one last look at the star covered ceiling before rounding a corner.

They headed down to the basements while the other groups went in different directions. John wondered where they were going and decided he should probably pay attention to what the Prefect was saying.

"-mascot is the badger. And unless you couldn't tell, our colors are yellow and black. You'll find your house things already in the rooms with your luggage." He stopped in front of a stack of barrels and tapped out a tune on the one second from the bottom. The lid slid to the side and a tunnel was revealed.

"Now, unlike the other common rooms, we don't have a codeword, but a pattern, which you just saw. If you didn't check it, you can ask once we're inside. Oh! Almost forgot! Now it's true that we are the friendliest house and that we get along with almost anyone-except for a few Ravenclaws; you'll learn about that later-but our common room has not been entered by outsiders in over a thousand years and although we encourage inter-house friendships, we are extremely proud of this record. So, please, refrain from bringing others here."

With that they all climbed through the tunnel into a large circular room. It had a low ceiling and a homey feel. A fire burned below a badger covered mantelpiece and herbs could be seen in every nook. Overstuffed sofas and armchairs cluttered the room, and yellow hangings and burnished copper finished off the look.

"I suggest you all go straight to bed, because tomorrow will be a busy day, and these sofas are way too comfortable," the Prefect told the first years. "You'll find the boy dorms down that tunnel and the girls down this one."

John didn't wait for another word. He headed straight down the tunnel and found the first year dormitories with little trouble. He didn't even bother unpacking. He just put on his pajamas and flopped onto his four-poster bed. Comfortable, warm, and completely exhausted, it took only seconds for John to slip into sleep-just long enough for him to think: I could get used to this.

It wasn't until lunch the next day that John saw the tall girl again. Well, he might have passed her in the hallway, but the whole morning had been a blur of passing time spent being pushed along in a wave of first years.

She was sitting with a group which appeared to consist of multiple years, but was having a good time all the same. Just then, she looked up and spotted John. She motioned for him to join them.

"So, how's your first day been John?" She asked.

"Um, good. At least, I think it was. It's all kind of a jumble right now," he admitted.

"Don't worry, it gets better," she smiled. He sat down with them and started to eat his lunch when he realized something.

"Wait, hey what's your name?"

"Hm? Oh, right, I never introduced myself. 'Name's Keladry Mindelan, but most people call me Kel."

"Well, pleased to meet you Kel."

She gave him a small smile, but her hazel eyes twinkled with amusement. Kel turned back to talk to her friends and John ate his lunch. After a little while, the bells chimed, signaling the end of the hour. People all throughout the Great Hall rose from their seats and made their way to their classes. John pulled out his schedule to see where he was going next.

"History of Magic," Kel read over his shoulder, "Professor Olau teaches that. I've got a free hour; I'll walk with you."

She led him out of the Great Hall and through the castle's maze of hallways. They finally arrived at the classroom. Upon entering, John found himself in a room lined with books. At the front was a desk piled high with strange metal devices and a green chalk board. John wondered what a school of magic needed with a muggle board.

"Go find a seat John," Kel told him quietly, then went to stand in the corner.

It wasn't like there was an abundance of choices. Only two seats were available. One was next to a pair of Gryffindors who were throwing things at each other, and the second was in the back next to a raven haired Slytherin. John made his way over to the boy in green.

"Anybody sitting here?" He asked the Slytherin. The boy studied him for a moment.

"No." John paused.

"May I?" He gestured towards the seat. The boy narrowed his eyes, but gave John a small nod.

The door opened and the wad of parchment that the Gryffindors were throwing froze in the air. The room went quiet as a plump, bearded man made his way to the front of the room. He paused for a moment to look at them before smiling good-heartedly.

"Welcome back, students, to another year at Hogwarts," he announced, "Well, seeing as you're first years, just welcome. I am Professor Olau, and this is History of Magic. And although I understand that it is necessary to enjoy your time here, I would appreciate it if you could not make a mess of my classroom." He looked pointedly at the Gryffindor pair, who avoided his gaze. With a flick of his wand, the floating parchment flung into the nearest waste bin. "Ms. Mindelan, can I help you with something?"

"Yes, Professor, I seem to have a free hour," Kel told him.

"Hm, I'll see what I can do about it," Olau nodded to her and Kel left the room, winking at John as she passed.

With that, Olau started his lesson, and for the first time all day, John found that he was paying attention. Even though it was just a summary of what they were going to do for the upcoming year, Professor Olau had a way of making it interesting. He joked with the students and behind him the chalkboard magically displayed scenes of battles as he mentioned them. Halfway through the hour, Olau allowed them to start on their homework for their other classes.

John gratefully whipped out his Charms book and started on his three page essay due the next day. The rest of the class had settled into a low roar, talking to friends with their books open. John was suddenly poked on the arm. He turned to find the raven-haired Slytherin looking at him.

"Yes?"

"Can I borrow your Transfiguration book? I forgot mine," the Slytherin youth said.

"Yeah, sure," John dug through his bag and handed over the book. The boy flipped it open and glanced at a page for a moment before giving it back. John smiled at him and turned to his work.

"So, is he disappointed?"

"What?"

"Your brother, Harry," the kid said, as if it was obvious, "Is he disappointed that you ended up in Hufflepuff and not Gryffindor?"

"How did you know about that?"

"Doesn't matter," the bell rang, "Laters."

John finally spotted the strange boy again that evening. The Slytherin was sitting on a window ledge in the library reading a newspaper. John was with Mike Stanford and a few other second years, studying at one of the tables.

"That's Sherlock Holmes," Mike commented, noticing where John was looking, "Why are you interested in him?"

"He's in my History of Magic class and well, he..."

"He just knew stuff about your life without being told? Yeah, he does that."

"Um, how does he-" John began.

"I have no idea," Mike cut in, "But you're welcome to ask him. Here, I'll introduce you, he's always coming around the Hospital." So they walked over to the raven-haired first year.

"Hey, Sherlock, I've someone here who has a question for you," Mike started, "This is John Watson."

"Ah, the psychosomatic limper," Sherlock said with a brief look up from his paper, "Stanford, have you seen the news? There's been another poison victim."

"Yeah, Beth Davenport. She worked for the ministry. Awful stuff, this poison. My dad said it sends the person into seizures before they faint, and, without a counter potion, they die within a day."

"Thats all well and good, but not at all what I'm interested in."

"So, what are you interested in, Sherlock? If it's not the suffering of others," Mike crossed his arms in frustration. Sherlock looked at him for a moment.

"Never mind," the Slytherin grumbled.

"Right, so I'm going to go study," Mike stomped away, "John, he's all yours."

John just stood there, unsure of what to do. Sherlock had gone back to the newspaper. After a long moment, he looked up again.

"You're still here?"

"Well, yes," John answered, "I was wondering how you knew all that stuff before. About Harry." Sherlock studied him before answering.

"Your textbook."

"What?"

"Your textbook. It's a hand-me down; the pages are tattered and stained. From there, it was merely ruling out choices. Ravenclaws practically worship knowledge; they would never allow a book to get in that state. If it had been a Slytherin's, there would be traces of mold, seeing as our common room is the perfect breeding ground for the stuff. Hufflepuffs are the careful sort, and they would never forget a book someplace. Mine as well leave it outside overnight as yours has clearly been on multiple occasions, so that leaves Gryffindor," he paused and studied John's face for a reaction.

"Why do you think Harry would be disappointed in me for being a Hufflepuff?"

"Well, he is a Gryffindor. They think that they're God's gift to humanity. In their eyes, why would anyone not want to be a Gryffindor? That thinking leads them to see everyone else is second class, but, then again, Ravenclaws and Slytherin have the same ideology."

"But Hufflepuff don't?"

"No, you're all too humble. Never wanting to pick fights and all that," Sherlock elaborated, "You're a highly unrealistic bunch if you ask me."

"Good thing no one is," John laughed. Sherlock tilted his head slightly.

"Do you mind the violin?"

"What?"

"Nothing. Meet me later, after curfew. I'd like to show you something interesting," the Slytherin said.

"What?"

"You'll appreciate it, I think." He began to pick up his things before pausing to look at John again. "Yes, most definitely. Well, see you then." He wrapped a green scarf around his neck and walked away.

"Wait!" John rushed after him, almost tripping over when his cane caught on a table leg. "Is that it?"

"Is that what?" Sherlock turned to face him.

"We've only just met and you expect me to break the rules? On the first day of classes?" John dropped his voice to a whisper so the librarian wouldn't hear them.

"Problem?"

"We don't know anything about each other," John started, "I don't know where we're to meet, and I barely know the layout of the castle." A sly smirk appeared on Sherlock's face.

"I know you're the nephew of the Ministry's Afghanistan Ambassador. I know that you were visiting him this summer when you were injured. I know you have a mother who's concerned about you, but you won't talk to her. I know you have an older brother who you don't approve of. Possibly because of his drinking, more likely because he just broke up with his long-standing girlfriend. That's enough to be going on with, don't you think?"

Sherlock resumed leaving, only to pause briefly in the library door. He turned once again to look at John.

"The time's 10 o'clock. And the room is 221b, in the West Wing." He walked away.

John stumbled over to rejoin the Ravenclaws. He sat silently before looking up at Mike, who just smiled.

"Yeah," Mike said, "he's always like that."

John wasn't a goody-two-shoes, but neither was he a rule breaker. He was the type of kid that would bend things here and there if he didn't agree with status quo, but if that Holmes boy thought John was going to break curfew on the first day of classes, then he had another thing coming.

The clock had just chimed half-past the ninth hour when John was tapped on the shoulder. He was sitting in a large yellow chair by the fire, listening to the idle chatter of those who were still up.

"Hey," asked an attractive blond haired girl, "are you John Watson?"

"Uh, yes."

"Cool, this Slytherin kid told me to give this to you." She handed him a sealed envelope and strolled away with a flick of her hair. John broke that wax and unfolded the paper, to find three words scribbled there.

Don't be late.

He let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead in frustration. John looked up when he sensed someone to his left.

"You alright?" asked Kel.

"Yeah, just fine," he replied. She crossed her arms, waiting. "Alright, there's this frie- Kid, who wants me to meet him in the West Wing somewhere at 10, but I'm not sure if I should."

"It's pasted curfew."

"Yes."

"You don't know how to get there."

"Yup."

"And it's only the first day of classes-kind of early to be getting in trouble."

"Exactly my poi-"

"Do you want to?" she interjected.

"What?"

"Do you want to break the rules and go meet up with this kid?"

"Yeah," John replied after thinking it over, "yeah, I do."

"Well, then, Mr. Watson," smiled Kel, "looks like we need to find you a guide."

There weren't many people left in the common room to choose from but Kel walked right up to a boy reading in the corner. They exchanged words before returning. He looked to be a fourth year, with dark eyes and light blond hair.

"Kel tells me you need a guide to find your way around the castle," he stated calmly, slipping his hands into his pockets, "You know wandering the castle after curfew is against the rules?"

John nodded.

"Right, come on then," the boy lead John to the exit tunnel.

Once outside the dormitory they took a side route around the Main Entrance and scurried up a stairwell. The only light to be seen was coming from the end of the fourth years wand. They ducked into open classrooms twice to avoid Prefects and had to take the long way around the Quad because Peeves the Poltergeist had decided it was a good time to TP that section of the castle.

"Well, this is the West Wing," said the boy, "I trust you can find your way back?"

"Yup, thanks," John replied, "You really didn't have to do this, you know."

"Are you kidding? I was looking for an excuse to stop reading that book all evening," he admitted, "Besides, the other Houses might not know it, but Hufflepuffs sneak out all the time." He waved to John and headed back the way they had come.

It didn't take John long to find room 221b on his own. He was about to knock on the door when the sound of footsteps hit his ears. Frantic, John looked for a hiding place but came up short. He turned to face his fate head-on, only to find Sherlock Holmes coming around the bend.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack," said John quietly.

"No need to whisper," Sherlock informed him, "I have a deal with the Prefect who patrols the West Wing, Miss Hudson. She owes me a favor. I helped her out a couple years back when her father got sentenced to death in Florida."

"You stopped her father from being executed?"

"Oh, no I insured it," he replied with a smile, pointing his wand at the door. "Alohomora."

It opened to a staircase. Sherlock bounded up the steps two at a time while John limped behind him. At the top was a landing with doors leading off in multiple directions. Sherlock walked through the one directly ahead of them. When John walked into the room, the first thing he noticed was the mess. There were papers strewn about and beakers holding colorful liquids on every flat surface. He turned around to find Sherlock staring at him.

"What is this place?" John asked.

"A Professor's living space, unoccupied. Of course," explained Sherlock, "that was until I found it. Now I use it to hold things that either do not fit or would not be appreciated in my dorm room."

"We've been here one day. How in the world did you manage to get all of this stuff here in that time?"

"There is more than one way to get into this castle."

John got the feeling that was all the explanation he was going to get. He let out a sigh and asked a question of more relevance.

"So what is it you wanted to show me?"

"Ah, yes, that. Right over here," Sherlock stepped over to the fireplace and picked up a box placed beside it. He put the box on the coffee table. John came up beside him, looking at it with concern.

"Ready?" Sherlock asked him.

"For what?" He never got an answer, for at that moment Sherlock opened the box and out shot a flash of white. It zoomed around the room for some time before settling on the mantlepiece.

"Is that a dinosaur?" John asked shocked. The creature looking at him was like none he had ever seen before. It appeared to be some sort of bird, except it lacked feathers. In fact, it lacked anything that would classify it as living. All it had was a skeleton.

"An archeopteryx, actually," Sherlock informed him.

"Huh? A what? Wait. How? How is that thing, well, moving? Didn't they go extinct ages ago? And it doesn't even have muscles!"

"A few years back, a student here was briefly given the power to raise the dead. This creature is one of the things that was brought back."

"Given by who?"

"Irrelevant. Besides that is not what I brought you here to see. I brought you here to show you what it could do."

"Of course, because an undead, flying skeleton isn't good enough," stated John sarcastically, "It has to do something."

"Just watch." John turned to find a that a violin had appeared in Sherlock's hands. With one fluid motion he let off an array of notes. Music filled the once silent room, and, to John's surprise, the creature looked interested. It tilted its head to the side as if listening with non-existent ears before leaping from its perch to land on the floor. It swung its tail to and fro for a moment finding the beat of the tune. Then it did the strangest thing John has ever witnessed: it began to dance. The skeleton pranced around the room in a performance more captivating than a ballerina. When Sherlock had finished his song, the creature alighted once again atop the mantle piece.

"That was amazing," said John, after a moment.

Twenty minutes later, they headed back to the their dorms for the evening. The creature was nestled back in it's box.

"That thing is really quite amazing," John commented as Sherlock locked the door behind them.

"Yes, well, I'll need you to look after it every Monday and Thursday," he said. John stopped in his tracks.

"What?"

"Looking at my schedule, those are my busiest days and I'll need someone else to look after it."

"Why can't you ask that Prefect girl you know?" Asked John.

"It doesn't like her."

"So what you're saying," stated John, leaning heavily on his cane, "is that not only did you make me break curfew the day I meet you but you're also going to have me care for your weird dinosaur thing? That's not a very good way to make friends, Sherlock."

"John, I don't have friends."

"Yeah, I can tell," John mumbled pushing past the Slytherin, "In the future, tell me when you're going to use me, at least."

They continued walking for some minutes in silence. Eventually, it came time for them to split ways. John was about to say good-night when he noticed Sherlock staring at him.

"So, did I get it right?"

"What right?

"What I said earlier," explained Sherlock, "That your brother will be disappointed because you didn't get into Gryffindor like he did. That you don't like him because he just broke up with his girlfriend, Clara."

"How did you know her name?"

"Irrelevant. Well?"

"Yes, Harry's probably disappointed. Do I care? No, We've never really gotten along, and Harry breaking up with Clara did worsen our relationship. You were also right in that Harry is a drinker."

"Ten for ten. Wasn't expecting that."

"Harry is short for Harriet."

"A sister! It's alway one thing!"

John Watson walked away, smiling as the distressed tones of Sherlock Holmes faded behind him.

John returned to the Hufflepuff common room just past 11pm, and it was deserted. He was about to head to bed when a voice sounded behind him.

"Back so soon?" The boy who had been John's guide asked from a seat by the fire. He still had his book from earlier.

"Yeah. Why are you still up?"

"Kel wanted to make sure you got back safe," he replied, "I volunteered to take her place. She gets grumpy if she doesn't get enough sleep."

"And you don't? What if I had not come back?"

"If you weren't back by one in the morning," he said standing up for his seat, "then I would have gotten the House Elves to help me look for you."

"That really isn't necessary."

"'Course not, you're back."

"No I mean," John corrected, "you really shouldn't worry about me. I'm just a little First Year."

"That's what Hufflepuffs do, John. We Badgers stick together." The boy smiled at John's shocked face. "Well I don't think I'm getting any further with this book; just gonna wing the test tomorrow. Night, John."

"Good night."

That Thursday, John took care of the skeleton creature. He wasn't really sure as to what to do, seeing as the thing didn't eat. So he spent an hour staring at and eventually talking to it. When he left, John locked the door behind him. Walking through the West Wing he heard footsteps come up behind him. John spun around to find a Gryffindor Prefect with dirty-blond hair smiling at him.

"You must be John Watson," she said pleasantly.

"Yes. Um, would you happen to be Miss Hudson, perchance?"

"Sherlock really needs to get over that habit of calling people by there last names. Come on, I'll walk you back to your dorm," she offered. They walked in quiet conversation for several minutes before another girl stopped them.

"What do we have here?" asked the newly arrived Ravenclaw Prefect matter-a-factly. "A First Year wandering the halls after curfew. That will be ten points from Huffle-"

"I already took care of it," cut in Miss Hudson, "I'm bringing him back to his dorm now."

"There seems to be quite a lot of activity in the West Wing under your watch, Anna," the other girl commented.

"I'd be more concerned about what happens in your own section at night, Maria. Have you gotten the shoes Peeves glued to the ceiling down yet?"

"Watch yourself Hudson," the girl said taking a step forward, "You don't want to get in trouble with the Headmaster now. What's your name your name Hufflepuff?"

"John Watson," he replied.

"Don't let this happen again," said Maria, walking away.

"Don't let her get to you, John," Anne commented, "She can be nice when she wants to be but she's kind of a stickler to the rules."

"If you say so."

"You know this means I'll have to take points away, right? Otherwise she'll know."

"I kind of guessed that," he admitted.

"Well," sighed Anne, lifting her wand, "Ten points from Hufflepuff." There was a small popping sound, like a bubble. "My guess is you'll be hearing that a lot."

Authors Note Con:

From Tamora Pierce Universe- Keladry Mindelan and Professor Olau

From Marvel Universe- Maria Hill

I'm hoping to have all seven years for John. Right now I'm working on part C of his first year. This is taking forever and becoming way longer then I expected. I also what to write from other peoples perspectives (AU remember) but the amount I'm planing on probably won't happen. I promise though to not end it in the middle of a year. When I'm done with the section I'm working on I'll post part B. Don't know how long that will take though with school and all.

Thanks to everyone who looked this over and helped me edit.