Introduction
Sherlock Holmes, incarcerated in Azkaban's highest security cell. John Watson, his oldest and only friend, looking for answers. To find the reasons behind what Sherlock did, John must unbury secrets and lies that have been long dead. How did the most famous Auror of his time fall from grace? John, and John only, is the key to the answer. And, to find it, they need to take a journey back to where it all began. Hogwarts.
Chapter One
Sherlock knew.
Of course he knew - he knew everything. But what he didn't know was why.
His cell wasn't good for many things - it was small, damp, his punishment manifested into stone walls and a thin iron bedstead. However, the corridor outside (which led to many other cells, each containing wizards in varying degrees of sanity, but none as sane as he was, he believed) had been enchanted so that every tiny sound made was magnified to ten times the original amplitude. The guards had done it, so that, in the event of an escape, they would hear the slightest scuffle and come running.
Therefore Sherlock's cell was remarkably good for listening. So, when he heard him walking up the corridor towards his cell, he was able to know many things at once.
The man was short, his footfalls not very far between, marking him as being about five foot six. The soles of his shoes were worn from endless pacing - a nervous habit, given away by the softness of his steps.
Lastly, the distances between his left and right step were different, meaning that, though he had long recovered from a psychosomatic limp, the memory of his war days resurfaced when he was about to visit the very man who had told him that his limp was, in fact, psychosomatic.
That man, obviously, was Sherlock.
The walker finally stopped at the end of the corridor, outside Sherlock's cell (because apparently, Sherlock was the most dangerous prisoner in the corridor, and had to be kept furthest away from the fire exit in case he escaped). Leaning against the iron bedstead, his back to the door, the silhouette of Azkaban's most dangerous criminal pressed his fingertips together underneath his chin.
"Hello, John," Sherlock said.