"Oi, Holmes"

John heard a sneering voice and a dull thud when he was passing by one of Hogwarts' enchanted stairways, of which he still found tricky after a week of living at the school. He turned around to see a small boy stagger, lost valance, books and a flask flying out of his arms. Before thinking John took out his wand and cried "Wingardium Leviosa!" The books were scattered about but the flask floated in the air several feet above the floor.

"You all right?" John asked the boy as he helped him up and started picking up the dropped goods. The boy looked no older than John himself, small and thin. A first year like himself then, thought John.

"There." Seeing the boy composed himself, John held out the stack of books and the flask to him.

"Thank you." The boy took the books and put the flask atop of them. Then looked John straight in the eyes. "The thing you did, that was quite impressive."

"Oh, the levitation charm? It was nothing. I just learnt it and wanted to practise it on something."

"Still, that was one fine wandwork."

"Well, if you say so." John blushed a bit and stared back at the pair of pale eyes. What eyes! The boy's gaze was boring into him. He felt as if being dissected at the spot.

"Anderson, how can you be so childish?" The boy muttered abruptly and John came back to himself. When he looked up there was a couple of Ravenclaw boys peeking from upstairs but as soon as they realised John looking at them they retreated. Running footsteps echoed in the corridor.

"Who are they?" John asked, frowning. "Did they push you?"

"He's just an idiot, that Anderson. I don't know about his company but I'm sure he's as stupid as him. Hate at first sight, or more like at the first Potion's class. All I did was pointing out why his potion failed to work but somehow he took a grudge against me."

"Hmm." John remembered his own less-than-okay potion and felt a bit of sympathy toward Anderson. Still, pushing was a nasty trick and he would definitely have a word if he meet the pair again. John looked back at the boy.

"Hey, what is in that flask? I didn't know we had an assignment."

"It's my project. I am making a salve specialised in treating puncture wounds by knarls quills." He showed his fingers that were full of red, angry scratches.

"What is a knarls? Why not just go to the Hospital wing?"

"A knarl is a little creature that resembles a hedgehog. And going to see the school nurse every time it stabs me would be extremely tedious as it is always angry." He replied smoothly.

"I got the idea when I was working on the potion to cure boils. I will invent my potion based on the recipe."

"Wow," John was genuinely impressed. "that's smart."

"I got a favour of professor and she let me use Potion's classroom and students' ingredients freely." The boy continued. "She has a thing for messy, dark-haired boys."

"Oh, come on!" John snorted. "She is only supporting talented."

"Is she?" John thought the boy's eyes got brighter if that was possible. "But she clearly prefers boys over girls, especially brunettes, as she talks to former longer than latter. She wouldn't quit hovering around me."

"However, while she takes fancy of students with said appearance, her bold attitude and Quidditch preference don't particularly scream for the type. She likes someone popular, someone she could show off as a trophy, like those Quidditch players on her gossip magazine."

Now John remember seeing the glossy cover of a Wizarding magazine (its multi-colour lettering was quite eye-catching) poking out from her robe and a Quidditch team band around her wrist, of which he saw around his fellow Griffindor girls' wrists, too.

"Then her taste in teenage boys should have come from sentiment, from her school days. Considering her age and eyes for celebrities, the possible factor would be The Boy Who Lived."

"Hmm, that sounds fit." John commented thoughtfully.

"She attended Hogwarts at the same time as Harry Potter, and him being a school Quiddich hero would've surly got her attention. It fits."

"Can you always tell those kind of things on people? How about me?" John got curious.

The boy got stiff. "If I were you I would not want to hear it." He said carefully.

"Why?"

"Because people don't like to be told something they thought others cannot see."

"It's alright. Just tell me."

"If you insist." The boy sighed and started speaking.

"You are still surprised by Hogwarts' magic and share the same classes as me, so a first year. You've never heard of a knarl, a common creature not too hard to witness if you were raised at a Wizarding household, so it's your first time to Wizarding world either. Which means you are a Muggle born.

Soles of your shoes show that you've been to Owlery. You are unlikely to have a wizard friend outside the school nor used to owl orders already so you were sending a message to your home. You went to Owlery alone but you seem to be the type always surrounded by friends. You are talkative."

Yet you are acting alone. Why? Because you didn't want your friends to see what you were doing. Homesickness? But again, you are perfectly comfortable to chat with me. So you have a trouble at home, not in here."

"Your clothes are second-hands and many don't match to your taste." The boy looked at John's simple haircut and the studded Jeans he was wearing. "So they are hand-me-down from your older sibling. Parents might have bought them at second-hand shops but they would have never choose something punk so brother's.

They aren't much out of style so he is near your age, probably teen. He may be the cause of the domestic especially when he is a Muggle unlike you. However, you and your brother are actually on good terms, aren't you? If not he would not share his favourite T-shirt." The boy pointed at John's chest.

"How can you tell this is Harry's favourite?" John looked down his front.

"Easy. It's a band shirt. Even if he has grown out of the band he will keep it as a memento. Anyway, he still could be troublesome. It shows in your rather grown-up attitude," The boy took a breath before continuing.

"which might also be the reason that you are alone. Your friends find you too independent. They are feeling bit distant toward you, and so you are as you don't share your problem with them."

The boy looked at John warily. "Well, that's all. What do you think?"

"You just recited my white paper." John replied. "And that was bloody brilliant."

"Really?" The boy looked happy, his eyes shining. "Did I get anything wrong?"

"Actually, there was one. Harry is my sister."

"But your clothes..."

"Harriett likes wearing boys' clothes, wants to look like one." John explained. "Mom complained and she took it seriously. They've been quarrelling ever since."

"And you are feeling helpless about it."

"Correct again." John grinned. "Why didn't I notice you before? You are fantastic."

"Ravenclaws and Gryffindors don't share a class until Monday morning, remember?"

"Oh."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to return to library before it closes for evening." The boy turned his back and beginning to climb up the stairs.

"Wait! What is your name?" John shouted at the boy's back.

"Sherlock Holmes."

John thought Sherlock smiled, though faintly, at him for the first time before the turned the corner and disappeared.