Chapter 1

John loved the first years, truly he did. It was just the amount of help and attention they needed that drove him up the wall. It would start with directions to class, or the bathroom, or which staircase to take, and then suddenly he'd be ushering them away from doors that led to the blast ended screwts. He'd be just about ready to turn in and head to bed when one of them would try to do an impressive spell for their friends and end up setting the common room on fire. It was driving him completely mental.

One night off. Just one. That's all I ask. He though to himself. It had only been a week since Hogwarts had reopened after summer break, the start of his fourth year at the school. He needed a night of lazing around with his pals from the quidditch team and eating all of the crazy wizard candies that they had smuggled from the train. Chocolate frogs. I need some chocolate frogs. Besides, it was practically curfew anyway. Even if he didn't need chocolate frogs he still needed to go back to the common room.

John walked up a couple flights of the worn white stone staircases, occasionally being stopped by paintings who would comment on what a nice day or night it was.

"Hello Watson, fine night isn't it?" One of the portraits said, tipping his old fashion black top hat.

"Yes, Sir Arnold, fine night." John smiled at the portrait and pretended to tip his own non-existent top hat back.

As John rounded the corner of the hall that led to the dormitories, he paused and stopped short. Sitting cross-legged and staring up at the portrait of the fat lady was the back of a boy who seemed –as John suspected- around his age. From what he could see, the boy was quite pale and had a thick mop of dark hair. John didn't think he'd seen him before. Or if he had, the boy hadn't made much of an impression. Can't be from Gryffindor. I know everybody from my house, at least enough to recognize them. So who is this and what he doing in front of our common room? The boy appeared to be just sitting there, just thinking.

But what an odd place to just plop oneself down. It was like going out into a street –not a highway, but simply a normal muggle street – and sitting down and hoping not to be run over. Although, John disliked the analogy because the students at Hogwarts were not cars. Not one bit. We're not cars. Sarah is definitely not a car. He began mentally slapping himself for thinking about Sarah again. Stop it stop it STOP IT JOHN. Get yourself together man. Focus on something else, anything else. Get your mind back to THAT ODD BOY THAT'S IN THE HALL THAT YOU WERE WONDERING ABOUT FIVE SECONDS AGO BEFORE YOU STARTED THINKING ABOUT-

"Shut up conscience." John mumbled to himself, swatting his hand about his head as if he were trying to get rid of a pesky fly. He looked at the boy again. He no longer seemed to be just thinking, rather conversing with the portrait of the fat lady. All that John was able to make out of what the boy was saying to the painting were some rather indistinct bits and pieces,

"Not very bright…" -something that john couldn't hear- "obviously… does it matter?"

The fat lady mumbled something that was incoherent from his place down the hall. It's a waste of time to just be standing around here and nosing around in other people's business. The little voice in his head nagged at him again.

"Could you just bloody well shut up?" John whispered to himself You don't need to stand here like an idiot. It's not like you need to wait until he's done with his conversation with a bloody painting to get inside the common room for god's sake.

John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. The voice in his head was always bothering him to no end, but it usually did have some sense to it. No use standing in the hallway. That wasn't going to get him any chocolate frogs or make the first years any less curious, or make Sarah like him. So with that thought in mind, he strode forward.

"Pardon me," John walked up to where the boy sat, expecting him to move over and clear the path to the common room. Yet the boy didn't move. Not a muscle. He just sat there, staring forward, his hands tucked under his chin. John cleared his throat. "Pardon me? Do you mind if I pass?"

The boy still stared forward, but spoke this time. "Not my problem right now." He let out a long sigh of frustration. John couldn't tell whether it was with him or something else.

"Sorry?" John said, incredulous "It's practically curfew for god's sake, let me pass." The boy turned to him sharply.

"Where you talking to me?"

"Who else do you see in this bloody hall?" John's temper was rising quickly. I just need some chocolate frogs. Let me through. The other boy stood up slowly. He was taller than John, but didn't look any older. Upon his black robes was embroidered a deep blue S.H. Below the initials was the blue and silver pattern of the Ravenclaw crest. A Ravenclaw. Why would he be here? John just stood there studying the Ravenclaw boy. And the boy seemed be studying him back. It was not John who broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Aren't you going to enter?"

"I-" John wasn't sure what to say. Ask him to go away so that he wouldn't hear the Gryffindor password?

"Oh. You're worried about me hearing the password." Johns' thought process stopped. How did he know what john had been thinking about? The Ravenclaw continued, "Don't bother." He turned his gaze away from John and let it fall on the portrait, "Fortuna Major."

The portrait of the Fat Lady smiled at him, and swung open to reveal the stone hallway that lead to the dormitories. John just stared, looking from the boy, to the portrait, to the boy again. He was sure that his mouth was wide open in shock.

"Well? Aren't you going to go in? That's what you made me stand up for wasn't it?"

"I- How-"

In answer, the Ravenclaw boy simply turned up the collar of his robes and began sauntering back down the hall.

John just stood there. Before the boy could disappear around the corner he called out to him.

"You do realize its almost curfew?"

The boy turned and looked back at John. "I don't care"

"You'll get in trouble."

"I told you, I don't care. They're all idiots anyway."

John frowned and was quiet for just a second before asking, "the professors?"

"Everybody is. " The boy replied with a smirk. "You are too, John Watson." He walked away, leaving John standing in the open entrance to the common room.