Of talking hats and cunning snakes
They were walking through this forest for hours, following Hagrid a giant man, who told them he would bring them to the castle on a different way, apart from the ordinary one, which all the other students took. If it includes walking through this goddamn forest in the dark and stumbling over every root in the bumpy way for the next hours I would much rather take the "ordinary way", thought John angrily after he almost crashed into his new friend by tripping over an exceptionally thick branch sticking in the muddy ground. From up there he kept his eyes fixed on the ground trying not to trip. Suddenly all his fellow student made big "Ahh" and "Uhhh" and "Ohhh" sounds and John looked up. There it was, behind a big lake with a mirror like surface, in which the moonlight reflected itself. The huge castle with his tours, battlements and thousands and thousands of windows glowing in the dark like patches of caught sunlight, was right in front of him, practically radiating with magic. Hagrid complemented the first years into the boats and with a jolt they floated over the lake, leaving deep waves in the mirror like surface. John could not move his eyes from his new home, not even when he heard the voice of a young girl behind him asking Sherlock what his name was and introducing herself as Rose and her friend as Albus.
Sherlock was mesmerized by the sheer beauty of the girl behind him, named Rose. He turned around an ironic answer on his lips, but struck by her appearance he could not bring himself to say the words out loud and he turned round again, only to here a "rude" behind him. Luckily Sherlock had a photographic memory, but even if not would the image of the girl sitting right behind him in this tiny nutshell of a boat, been burned into his iris forever. Her long bushy red hair surrounded her face like bright flames, painting her head in bright orange light. The freckles on her tiny, perfect nose and rosy cheeks where like little drops of water on her alabaster skin. Her eyes where piercing green and shaped like two almonds laying angular right under her flaming red curls. He could almost see her thin pink lips forming the word rude, while drawing her red eyebrows together in anger. Petrified by the new feeling in Sherlock's heart he did not realize how the boats gently bumped into a rock until John nudged him in the ribs and they got out of it. "Hey, are you ok?" John looked at him with a concerned expression. "Oh, ah, yes of course, I'm just a bit dazzled by the castle." "Yes it is beautiful isn't it?!" "Yes it is" Sherlock replied and the rest of the way they walked in silence side by side through a huge door into an entry hall in which Sherlock's whole house would have fitted easily. Climbing up the staircase, the new students saw a round faced kind looking young man, standing in front of a huge wooden door and greeting them with a warm smile. The dirt under his nails, accompanied by blisters on his hands and a strong smell of dung told Sherlock that this had to be the herbology teacher, interesting, why? But he answered his question right away "Hello new students, I would like to welcome you to Hogwarts. I'm Professor Longbottom, teaching herbology and the head of Gryffindor house. Before we g through this wall, I would like all of you to prepare for the sorting ceremony, which will be held in front of the whole school, so smug yourself up a bit, I will be back in a second!" with this words he disappeared leaving the first years in a state of horror, well at least the ones coming from muggle families, who never even heard of Hogwarts. But Sherlock didn't worry, Mycroft had told him about the hat and the ceremony. He just hoped to get into another house than his brother, so he could be free from his dull family at last!
John looked around in despair, how could he have forgotten the ceremony in front of the whole school, with everybody looking at him. His heart almost jumped out of his chest, the moment Professor Longbottom returned leading them into a huge hall, light with candles floating in mid air. But not even the sight of those miracles distracted him from all the eyes fixed upon him. John had to remind himself to walk, because his numb legs would not move by themselves. He hardly realized how Professor Longbottom placed a stool in front of them with an old battered hat on top of it and suddenly a song came through his total numbness, the hat sang.
You may just see You can keep all those fancy caps, So come on, come on closer I will tell you were to go You might be best for Gryffindor, Or perhaps you are in Hufflepuff, Or yet wise old Ravenclaw, But maybe in Slytherin So come on let's get going here!
an old battered hat in me,
But careful, don't judge by sight
Even the dirtiest hat can shine in daylight very bright
bowlers, bonnets, or bats
For I'm a rather special one
outrunning them all
Surely I won't bite
Just let me have a little peak in your head
I will enjoy the sight.
I will tell you were to stay
In which house do you belong
I will always know, right away
Where they are brave and strong,
No trouble is too big for them
and no adventure too long;
Where they are true and kind,
You will find the most loyal friends
come here, leave your doubts behind;
is suited best for you,
Those clever folks do always know,
What there is to do next;
lays your rightful place,
the house of mysteries and rascals
will never bore you in any case.
Let's see what secrets we reveal!
hidden in your little head
be sure that I will find them all
For I'm a Thinking Cap!
The hall exploded with cheers and claps. To Johns horror Professor Longbottom got out a list with all their names on it and reading it out loud he called them forward…
"Holmes, Sherlock" He felt John quivering beside him. Sherlock was not even half as nervous as him, he didn't care in which house he would come as long as it wasn't Slytherin, the house where his brother was in… Stepping eagerly on the platform in front of the teachers table he noticed that the Headmaster Professor McGonagall examined him closely with her catlike eyes, her mouth tight lipped as in distaste and her fingers moving nervously on the table in front of her. For him on the contrary it was quite clear that she had been a Quiditch player in her early years, that she liked needlework and had done some quite recently, that she was an animagus and that she came from Scotland, never had any children and was a widow for a quite amount of times. It was so obvious, from the stitch marks on her fingers up to the owl feather and cat fur on her hat and coat (She wouldn't keep two pets…). He turned around, sitting on the stool and watching the crowed for a few seconds until the hat had sunken right over his eyes, he hated the feeling of his senses being cut of the world… "Mhm", said a squeaky voice "Difficult, rather difficult…Could you please stop using occlumency against me? I cannot figure out in which house you belong, if you refuse to let me have a peek in your head!" "Sorry? I'm not doing anything" Sherlock said out loud "hah, interesting, interesting….Therefore it has to be…RAVENCLAW" the sorting hat raised his voice with his last words. Sherlock jumped of the stool, and gave the hat to the startled looking Professor Longbottom. He just realized that nobody clapped and everybody was staring at him. Well, he didn't know what their problem was and he did not take an interest in it, he just sat down on the Ravenclaw table, ignoring the eyes fixed on him and after a few seconds the sorting continued. Sherlock was very pleased with himself, whatever the hat said he was in Ravenclaw, not in slimy Slytherin, where his dull brother could fuss over him.
John saw numerous students step onto the podium sitting on the stool and being sorted and with every single one of them his heart fell deeper, he could not imagine how he should manage to go up there in front of everybody. He watched Scorpius Malfoy, a shy looking bloke, who had blond hair and very green eyes entering Slytherin house, a pair of twins Lorcan and Lycander Scamander being sorted in different houses one in Ravenclaw and one in Gryffindor. One he could remember as well was Albus Severus Potter, a Potter wow, being sorted into Slytherin as well. He did not look to happy and everybody whispered, because his dad was such a famous Gryffindor. All the rest rushed past him in a blur, until…"John Hamish Watson" Oh, no why did he had to say his second name, it was so embarrassing, he would be the laughing stock of the school…But nobody laughed. Slowly John tried to climb the stairs to the stool where Professor Longbottom stood and smiled encouraging at him. And then it happened, he did not look at his feet for one moment, stumbled and fell right in front of the stool, in panic he got up and realized the sniggers of the students sitting in the hall. His face was flaming hot, but he managed to sit on the stool and the hat covered his burning face. "Ha, nice entrance" said a little voice in his head "Mhm, where should I put you? Maybe Ravenclaw with your overly clever friend, or no…You are a rather difficult case my boy". John sat on the stool for what felt to him as ages. When finally the hat said "Oh, what's the fuss. Look at you, you'll be best in GRYFFINDOR!" Relieved John jumped of the stool and tore the hat from his head, half running he came to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Lycander, who beamed at him while "Rose Weasley" became a Gryffindor.
