Chapter 2

'Holmes, Sherlock!'

John froze and watched as Sherlock walked up to the Hat, looking calm. He sat down on the Stool and the Hat was placed on his head. John expected it to shout, 'Ravenclaw!' right away; after the conversation he'd had with Sherlock on the train he was sure the boy was a genius, but the Hat seemed to be in doubt, muttering to itself.

He remembered sitting on that exact same stool six years ago. He'd been terribly nervous, and had been really relieved when the Hat had shouted, 'Gryffindor!' It had always been his favourite House and his whole family had been in Gryffindor.

'Slytherin!'

Slytherin? John looked puzzled as Sherlock got up and went to the Slytherin table, which had exploded with applause.

'Slytherin, huh?' mumbled Mike.

'Lay off him, Mike. There's nothing wrong with Slytherin,' said John immediately. 'I know loads of friendly Slytherins.' He should've known Sherlock could be a Slytherin – because Mycroft was one, too. It wasn't always the case that family members got Sorted into the same House, but it happened quite often.

Professor Dumbledore got up and waved his wand, and the tables filled with all sorts of food. John, forgetting all his problems, tucked in. While he was eating, he saw Sarah trying to catch his eye, but he deliberately looked away.

'She still likes you, you know,' said Mike.

'We broke up last year, Mike,' said John irritably.

'So how's your sister?' asked Mike, changing the subject. 'She's in her final year now, right?'

John looked at his sister, who was sitting on the other end of the table, chatting with her friends. 'Yeah. I don't know how she's going to cope, though, because she's not very motivated.'

'At least students can't bring alcohol into the school,' said Mike.

'Believe me, she'll find a way. You remember last year? She bought loads of Firewhiskey from Hogsmeade and sneaked them into the school.'

'So who d'you reckon that new boy is? The older one?' Lestrade, a seventh-year Gryffindor, asked his friends.

'He's called Sherlock Holmes,' said John.

'Holmes? Mycroft's brother?'

'That's right.'

'He looks… strange,' said Lestrade, frowning. 'Still, we should make him feel welcome. D'you know him well, John?'

'We met on the train.'

'How is he?'

'Like you said, strange,' John answered. 'Not in a bad way, though.'

'Strange in a good way?' asked one of Lestrade's friends haughtily. John ignored him.

...

When everyone was full, the food disappeared and Professor Dumbledore gave a speech, telling the students the usual things: stay out of the Forbidden Forest, no magic in the corridors etcetera. Finally, they were allowed to go to their dormitories. The other Gryffindors departed and John wanted to leave, too, when he heard a voice behind him. 'I hope you don't hate me now.'

John whirled around. 'Sherlock! Don't do that ever again, you scared me!'

'I'm sorry,' said Sherlock, but the corner of his mouth was pulled up in a crooked smile.

'No, I don't hate you,' said John, answering Sherlock's question. 'Why would I?'

'Because I'm a Slytherin and you're a Gryffindor. I heard there's a lot of competition between our Houses.'

'That's true,' admitted John. 'But I don't mind. Not all Slytherins are bad.'

'Thanks,' said Sherlock and he actually sounded relieved. 'I don't like the other Slytherins much,' he added.

'You don't?'

'I overheard some conversations during dinner and they seem like a bunch of losers to me.'

John grinned. 'Except for your brother?'

'Especially my brother.' Sherlock looked around, then cursed. 'Where're the others?'

'You mean the other Slytherins?' John also looked around and noticed Sherlock was right: they were gone. 'They must've gone to their dormitories. You'd better go there, too.'

'But where are the dormitories?'

'Oh.'

'What – you mean you don't know?' Sherlock asked, his eyebrows knitting together. He looked disappointed.

'Don't expect me to know everything!' exclaimed John. 'I'm a Gryffindor, I'm not even allowed to know where the Slytherin common room is!'

'Need any help?' a smooth voice asked.

John looked up and saw it was Mycroft. Those Holmes brothers sure know how to sneak up on you, he thought. 'Yeah, we need to find the Slyther–'

'No, thanks,' Sherlock interrupted John. He smiled at his brother, but his eyes remained cold. 'We'll find our way.'

'Wha – no, we won't, Sherlock! We've got no idea where the common room is!' said John.

'I'm sure I'll be able to find it,' said Sherlock coldly. 'I don't need his help.' He walked away.

'What's wrong with him?' John asked Mycroft angrily.

'Like I said before, we've got a difficult relationship. If I were you, I'd help him.'

'But I don't know where we have to go!'

'The dungeons. And don't tell him I told you this.'

John rushed after Sherlock. 'Fine, no Mycroft! I'll help you! I think it's in the dungeons.'

'My brother told you, didn't he?'

'…Yes.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'Whatever. Thanks, John. I'll be going.' He went into a corridor to the left.

'Er, Sherlock?'

Sherlock stopped walking and looked around. 'What now?' he asked impatiently.

'The dungeons are that way,' said John, pointing to the right.

'Oh.' Sherlock turned around and set off in the opposite direction, stopping when the corridor split up into two different corridors. He turned to John. 'Could you lead me there?'

John could see from his expression that he hated depending on someone else, but he figured it was better than his brother helping him. 'Sure,' he shrugged.

They made their way through dark corridors and down marble staircases, finally arriving in the creepiest part of the castle: the dungeons.

'So where's the common room?' asked Sherlock.

'I don't know. Gryffindor, remember?' said John irritably.

Sherlock looked at him, amusement in his icy blue eyes.

'It's right here, Sherlock,' said a voice behind them. John didn't have to turn around to recognize the smooth voice: it was Mycroft.

'How'd you get here?' asked John, amazed.

'Oh, he followed us, obviously,' said Sherlock. 'Didn't you hear him?'

Mycroft smiled his mysterious smile, then turned around to face a wall. 'Dark Arts,' he said. The wall slid open to reveal a dark room. When Mycroft had gone inside, the wall closed again.

'Well, I guess you won't be needing me anymore, then,' said John uncomfortably. 'So I'll just go to my common room.'

'Which is one of those three high towers, right?' said Sherlock.

'Yes – how d'you know that?'

'I overheard a Gryffindor talking about how beautiful the view of the Great Lake was in her common room. She described the view in a way that made me realize it was only possible for her common room to be in one of the towers.'

John shook his head. 'That's amazing.'

'Why, thank you.'

There was an uncomfortable silence. John tried not to meet Sherlock's eye, but in the end he looked up into the boy's face, to find him staring at him, a frown on his face.

'You do that a lot,' noted John.

'What?'

'Stare at people.'

'I observe,' said Sherlock. 'Sometimes it's like I can read people's thoughts.'

'Well, I hope you can't read mine,' said John nervously. 'Anyway, I'll be going. Goodnight.'

'Night, John.'

So that was chapter 2 (:
I've already written a couple of other chapters, but I'm not going to post all of them at once because I have to go to school again, which means I'll have less time to write, and I don't want to break between later chapters to be too long.