Magic and Mysteries: A Potterlock Story
By TheAlpacaIllusionist
~Prologue~
"Look, John," Sherlock said, indicating a young boy perhaps a few years younger than them. "What can you tell me about him?"
The boy was small with messy black hair that settled over his head in a way that could be reminiscent of any other child that age. He wore round glasses and an oversized shirt that was clearly not bought with him in mind.
"Well?" Sherlock pushed.
"He's definitely got an older sibling," his companion, John, began. He nodded to himself and continued, "Yeah, because you can tell by his clothes which are obviously a lot bigger than him. He is, um, quiet . . . uh . . . his shoes are well worn. So he comes from a poor family then." John trailed off and Sherlock nodded.
"Enlightening, but completely wrong."
"I can't say I'm surprised," John muttered, rearranging his position on the railing which he and his friend were leaning on. Sherlock, dressed smartly in dark trousers and a violet shirt, glanced down, not at all surprised that he was beginning to tower over his short companion.
"Neither can I. Let's start at the beginning. He's got no older sibling. His family is over there." Sherlock nodded across the reptile house to where a rotund man, a horse resembling woman and two young boys stood admiring one of the exhibits habitants. "They are related, but not as closely as you assumed. Cousins. The fat boy there is his cousin, the two adults are his aunt and uncle. The other boy? Just a friend, of course. The boy, himself, is malnourished—not treated well. Extreme favouritism—the parents never wanted to take the boy in but it was their obligation and one they manage to fulfill, if barely. He dresses as he does because of it. His family is not poor—in fact, I'd say they believe themselves to be quite respectable, therefore he wears whatever they feel kind enough to give. No money is spent on him."
"In other words, I didn't get anything right."
Sherlock turned his attention away from the boy standing at the glass exhibit of a large snake and eyed John, his friend of two years, going on three.
"No, but I suspect anyone would have thought as much. You all fail to truly observe."
John didn't respond but rolled his eyes and looked back to the other people occupying the reptile house. He had invited Sherlock down to his end of the country for a week and Sherlock had obliged with permission from his parents who, apparently, were overjoyed that their little boy was making friends. Mycroft had sarcastically shared the same sentiment.
Today, after a suggestion from his mother, John had dragged Sherlock to the zoo where they had eventually sought refuge from a sudden downpour of rain in the reptile house. They decided to people watch, Sherlock testing John on his deductive skills only to have Sherlock tell him that he was completely wrong and correct him.
Thinking about this, John frowned at the thought of the boy they had just deduced. It was sad, not that Sherlock would be inclined to agree with him. He'd probably just scoff and say that John was being too sentimental again.
When John looked back at the raven-haired boy, however, he swore he was witnessing the strangest thing. The boy was talking to the snake. Not only this, but the snake was reacting to his words.
"Sherlock, look!"
The Holmes boy looked over to where he knew that John was mentally gesturing. He stared for a few moments before his attention moved on to the younger boy's family. The cousin had noticed the awakening of the snake and barrelled over, pushing the smaller boy to the ground. Then, the fatter boy's sausage fingers were pressed against the glass. Sherlock's eyes went back to the earlier deduced boy and he noted the hateful expression he wore. That was when all hell broke loose.
The glass disappeared and the oversized tween fell forward into the exhibit, the water splashing up around him. This gave the snake inside said exhibit the perfect means to escape its glass prison. As its oversized body fell to the floor, it turned to the black haired boy who was still on the ground and hissed.
John looked over to see if Sherlock was noticing what he was only to realize his friend was approaching the boy on the ground, completely ignoring the fact that the once safe-behind-glass snake was now slithering across the floor.
"Sherlock!" John went to go after him before noticing that the once vanished glass had reappeared and the boy that had fallen into the snake's exhibit was now stuck there, sopping wet and fearful.
When John caught up to his friend, he was holding a hand out to the younger boy on the ground, offering him a hand.
"Um, thank you," the boy said shyly, accepting the offer and standing. He began dusting himself off, appearing completely calm over what had just occurred.
"Do you believe in magic, Harry?" Sherlock asked.
"Harry?" John questioned, thoughts immediately jumping to his sister, Harriet.
"I-uh, what? Excuse me, but how did you know my name was Harry?"
Sherlock opened his mouth to explain before he was interrupted by a rapidly approaching older gentleman whose face, as round as his middle, was red and puffy.
"You, boy! What did we say about the funny business?" Sherlock stared at the man for a moment, his gaze hard and calculating, before looking over at John who was still extremely confused as to what had just happened.
"Come along, John." Sherlock turned away, but not before winking at the boy named Harry. He didn't look back after that, not even to ensure that John was following.
Moments later, they were outside and the sun was shining, the wet ground being the only sign that it had rained.
John turned on his friend almost as soon as he was sure that they were out of earshot.
"What the hell was that? How did you know his name was Harry? Don't go revealing us to muggles!"
"Do you observe nothing? Those muggles already know, at least, his aunt and uncle do. Little Harry is a wizard." John whose mouth was open as he was about to respond shut it and he stared back at Sherlock, clearly not too impressed with his words.
"Okay, that is self explanatory, but what about the fact that you just happened to know his name was Harry?" Sherlock smirked at this.
"Harry Potter, to be exact." John sputtered, opening his mouth to speak, before closing it repeatedly until he just gave up. "It was the scar, John, the scar! How many wizarding children do you know who fit the description of the Boy-Who-Lived and at the same time are being raised by muggles and have lightning shaped scars on their foreheads? Not many, leading to the only option that this boy is the Harry Potter. Any wizard could have figured that out."
"Sherlock, you're forgetting that I'm a wizard and I didn't figure it out."
Sherlock rolled his eyes and began walking again. "I meant any wizard that observes, John."
Sighing, John made to continue their conversation before dropping it completely and scurrying after the taller boy. Spending so much time with Sherlock had taught John that most, if not all the time, it was best not to argue with him. Right now really wasn't an exception.
XxXxXxXxX
Hello there! I hope you enjoyed this Potterlock prologue. This story will (hopefully) go through each of the seven books/movies.
A note with regards to how I'll be writing this: any scenes that are the same as the books/movies will not be copied word for word. They will either be written from memory or completely different. This will hopefully keep it interesting for you folks.
Until next time!