I don't own Harry Potter, Sherlock, or any other shows/movies etc referenced to in following chapters.
"Sherlock," a bleary-eyed John began as he ascended the stairs of 221B, "today's a Sunday."
"How astute of you," the consulting detective replied, not even glancing up from his microscope. John rolled his eyes.
"But look, we've had a letter."
"Once again, your observational skills enchant me."
"It's addressed to Rosie. Can you at least check it?"
"For what?"
Silence. Sherlock assumed his friend was just being parannoyed, again, but complied anyway.
"Really John," he sighed as he took the letter from him, "You need to stop being so..." Sherlock let out a yelp. He threw the letter across the room towards a confused and slightly worried John.
"Sherlock? What is it?" He stared at the letter lying on the floor. Although he hadn't noticed anything wrong with it, he trusted Sherlock's opinion far more than his own on matters like this.
"I always suspected it," Sherlock muttered, rocking back and forth in his chair, "But I didn't dare hope,"
"Hope what?"
"Rosamund Watson," he smiled just as she entered the room, "Is a witch."