My first Sherlock fanfiction. Must it be crossed with Harry Potter? Yes, it must. And yes, it must be made up as we go along. As are all my stories, are they not?
Sherlock Holmes, greatest brain of Britain, and one may daresay the world, sat in a chair, busying himself with being bored, "John, check that blog of yours and see if there are any cases at all"
John Watson, moral compass and make shift keeper to the greatest brain and most childish grownup in the world, nearly jumped out of his skin, but checked the blog comments nonetheless.
"Nothing to date", he replied.
Sherlock groaned and rolled over. What he wasn't informed as being the cause of the lack of cases was the aftermath of the newspaper series proclaiming him a fraud. Even after the truth was circulated that Sherlock was alive, well, and every bit as annoying as he always genuinely was, no one would trust Sherlock until he solved a case.
However, he couldn't solve a case without being given one, so thus is the vicious circle.
Sherlock stood up suddenly, again startling John, and began to get dressed to go outside, "Come along John, we're going to go alleviate my boredom"
Sighing, John complied and donned his jacket as Sherlock tied his scarf around his neck.
On the landing, "We're off, Mrs. Hudson!", John called.
"Don't lose Sherlock, will you?"
Out in the brisk London air, a once over on the newspaper stands produced no sort of boredom buster.
"No matter", John attempted to distract the severely bored consulting detective.
Ignoring him, Sherlock leaned against the fencing, next to the same homeless person who had helped them with the fraud painting case long back.
"Got anything I'll take a shine to?", Sherlock asked.
"Something you'd pay for even, sir", she passed him a yellowing sort of parchment paper, exchanged for a crisp bill.
John looked over Sherlock shoulder as he read the parchment and checked something on the internet on his phone.
Kings' Cross to Scotland"Come on, John", Sherlock called over his shoulder as he hailed a taxi, "Don't want to miss the next train.
"Sherlock, what train?", John asked as he got into the taxi whose door Sherlock held open.
"The one at Kings' Cross station, of course"
Sherlock was excited in the taxi as the cabbie drove to the station as asked.
"Calm down Sherlock", John said, "You're getting ahead of yourself. You may not even like the case"
"I'll take any case at all, at the moment", Sherlock looked out the window.
In Kings' Cross station, John took care to abide by Mrs. Hudson's advice and not let Sherlock wander or get ahead of himself.
The station was crowded beyond what John could believe, with more traffic than he thought to get to the trains.
To rest in what seemed to be rush hour, Sherlock leaned on the pillar between platform nine and platform ten, promptly disappearing.
John looked over his shoulder, just in time to see the flailing hand of Sherlock, who was landing on platform nine and three quarters, melt into the wall.
"What the f—", John successfully went through the wall right after Sherlock, not even thinking what would be on the other side.
R&E&R, my lovely readers!