It was times like this Sherlock felt inadequate. He walked with John through the halls, lost in thought, as his new friend led the way to the Great Hall. He felt all eyes on them as they entered. The Ravenclaws were staring at him in confusion as he followed the Gryffindor to his table. His classmates stared at the tall boy, open-mouthed. All Sherlock wanted to do in that moment was hide. He hated attention, though he craved to be praised. Odd combination he supposed.
"Afternoon Greg." John greeted as he sat down, seemingly oblivious to the silence that had overtaken the room.
"Afternoon." Greg coughed out after a bit, smiling slightly at John. "Hello Sherlock. Been a while." Sherlock nodded in greeting, sitting down and studying the table. "Right. Well. How's that Charms assignment John?" Greg asked, glancing curiously at the Ravenclaw.
"Honestly? Dreadful." John sighed, glaring at his oak wand as he pulled it out. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong honestly."
"I hear there's a kid in her class that got it on the first try! He wasn't even paying attention." A first year named Apollo muttered, glancing over at the Ravenclaw as he took his seat next to Greg.
"I could teach you how to do it." Sherlock offered, looking at John with a small smile. "I would be that kid. It's not that hard. Just getting the wand movement really." Apollo stared at him.
"Who are you?" The golden haired kid asked, eyes wide.
"Sherlock Holmes, Ravenclaw." The boy tugged at his raven-black hair uneasily.
"Apollo Carter," the boy smiled slightly. "Your brother is Mycroft right?"
"Yes." Sherlock uttered, eyes flashing with anger. "You have a twin named Artemis, correct?" Apollo bit his lip and nodded, looking down.
"Calm down Sherlock." John whispered, pumpkin juice dripping down his chin. The other boy looked at his friend and sighed, visibly calming himself as Professor McGonagall approached.
"Mr. Holmes, as I'm sure you're aware, this is the Gryffindor table. We do not allow the houses to mix during lunchtime. So if you will kindly move to your table, we would appreciate it." The transfigurations teacher stood there, waiting for Sherlock's reply.
"And if I do not?" Sherlock asked her quietly, staring up with expressionless eyes.
"You will be served with detention and further warnings to sit at your own table." The professor glared over her nose at the young boy.
"That's hardly fair Professor! He's not bothering anybody!" John protested, turning around to face the teacher.
"That's not the point Mr. Watson. Mr. Holmes, get back to your table." The professor was getting angry now.
"No." Sherlock stated, turning back around. John stared at him, shocked. Greg and Apollo looked like they wanted to shrink away with fear. The professor was flabbergasted, to say the least. No child had ever told her no.
"Mr. Holmes, I'm giving you one last chance to move to your table."
"No. Why should I sit with my house? If Hogwarts is all about unity, then why should it matter that I would like to sit with my friends at another house table? The whole house thing is ridiculous anyway." Sherlock dismissed her with a wave.
"I look forward to seeing you in detention. Fifty points from Ravenclaw." Her voice boomed around the hall. Several Slytherin's sniggered, and Sherlock was sure he caught a few glares from his house.
"Sherlock's right. The whole house thing is ridiculous." John muttered, loud enough Professor McGonagall heard.
"Mr. Watson! How dare you say that! Detention, ten points from Gryffindor." The rest of the table groaned and shot glares at John. The Slytherins laughed and high-fived each other.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Why'd you do that?"
"Who wants to be stuck in detention alone? Plus, that was downright stupid."
"I'll just continue to sit here until she decides to leave it. Or you could come sit at the Ravenclaw table." Sherlock smirked, playing with an apple. "I suppose it's time for next lesson. See you around John." He stood up and walked out, apple in his pocket, as he made his way outside for flying lessons.
One boring lesson and a crash later, Sherlock was reclining back in a chair in the transfiguration room, apple being tossed into the air. Professor McGonagall stood at the front of the room, glaring out of her glasses at the young Ravenclaw as John slowly made his way in.
"Welcome to detention you two. Now, no talking, no passing notes. If I even hear a whisper, you will be punished more." With that, she sat down and set about grading some quiz she'd given earlier in the week. Sherlock twirled his wand and entertained the idea of zapping the professor, before catching John shaking his head. He sighed and looked at his potions homework instead, glaring at the paper.
Ten minutes passed in complete silence, and the young Ravenclaw felt himself going mad with boredom. A knock at the classroom door caused both boys to look up, though they quickly turned their attention with Professor Slughorn walked in. "Oh, Minevera. It's terrible! There's been another one!" The potions professor wailed, tears dripping down his face.
"Who?" McGonagall asked, eyes wide with fear.
"Cass Frankie, seventh year Hufflepuff. Found in the greenhouse. Stabbed." Sherlock looked up, a curious expression crossing his face. John noticed and frowned as the professors stepped outside.
"Fourth one in two weeks. Interesting…" Sherlock muttered, opening a scroll, his features focused and attentive.
"What?" John asked him, moving so he could see the names.
"Karlee Reyes, sixth year Gryffindor. Brently Adair, fifth year Ravenclaw. Lucius Gratiss, seventh year Slytherin. And finally, Cass Frankie, seventh year Hufflepuff. Each one stabbed and found in the greenhouses. All connected obviously. Each one was a prefect, had no reason to be in the greenhouse, and top in their classes. None of the victims knew each other, nor were there any defense wounds. Knew the killer."
"Hang on." John put a hand on the Ravenclaw's shoulder. "You've researched this then? How did you get this information?"
Sherlock smiled widely, tapping his fingers. "Having an older brother comes with benefits young John. And yes, I'm very interested. Quite an interesting case. I was hoping I could see the bodies, but that can't be arranged so I settle for pictures Mycroft manages to get. Photographer is a bloody idiot and doesn't get everything." He growled in frustration as he turned to study the photos of the other bodies. John leaned over his shoulder and studied them as well.
"This is your idea of a hobby then?" John asked curiously, picking up a picture for closer inspection. Sherlock hummed in response, digging around until he came up with a quill for writing.
"You two! Detention done. Go back to your dorms and stay there!" The professor shouted at them from the door, looking distraught. Sherlock frowned and got up, shoving everything into his bag and smiling a little at the potions professor as he waited for John to catch up.
"I would love the chance to get to see the greenhouse." John muttered as they walked, lost in thought. Sherlock looked at him, slightly surprised.
"We should." Odd, I can never guess his next move.
John looked at him, wide-eyed. "How?"
Sherlock smiled knowingly and set a brisk pace down the hall to the prefects' dorm, where his brother would likely be hiding. "Meet me in the owlrey at ten tonight. Tell no one. See you there!" He disappeared around the corner as John stared after him, fascinated and confused.
"So…Sherlock Holmes then?" Greg Lestrade asked as soon as John had trudged to the common room.
"Hm? Oh yes. Odd bloke. He's nice enough, though he lacks social skills…" John trailed off with a shrug, throwing himself down on the comfortable couch. "Says he knew you in primary school."
"Yes. We were in the same class. He was always a bit of an outcast. The kids around me called him a freak because he 'deducted' as he called it. He had an overbearing brother, father who paid little attention to him and I've no idea about his mum. His first few attempts at making friends failed…and it wasn't his fault. The other kids just didn't understand him I suppose. Hell, I sure didn't." Greg rambled, lost in thought. "Good for you mate. Not many kids could be around him by the end of first year. He'd learned quickly to close himself off. And he's an arrogant sod." The other boy laughed at this.
"Why does everybody hate him?" John asked curiously.
Greg sighed and looked over at him. "Probably because they're threatened by his intelligence. He argued with a teacher the first day of school. Who would do that? He was raised in a rich, pureblood family. Able to afford the best of the best. Nobody quite understands why he refuses to act like a rich kid. And he's…I dunno mate…scarred after the childhood bullying? He normally doesn't let anyone in, thinks we're all idiots."
John tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe he just needed someone to actually try to be his friend and not run when he made his deductions?"
"Perhaps. I don't have the patience. But I feel for him." John watched Greg as he trudged up the stairs, chewing his cheek in quiet contemplation. The common room was empty of all life, though the fire crackled and hissed to fill the silence. He'd basically befriend a bullied child, and the thought made the boy smile. Though John worried about the rest of the things Greg had mentioned. He didn't understand why his 'deductions' would scare people. They were brilliant and amazing!
John left the common room fifteen before ten, weaving his way through the passageways quietly. There had been no sign of anything other than the occasional painting moving, or the ghost passing through the walls. It was curfew yet, but it was damn close, and John was suddenly worried that he'd let Sherlock drag him into more trouble.
"Ah, good evening John." Sherlock greeted, eyes shining in the soft moonlight. He had thrown on a black coat and wrapped a scarf around his neck. John looked down at his own school robes and normal, street clothes and sighed as he realized it would be slightly cold. "You will be fine. It's not cold really. I just don't like leaving without this." Sherlock shoved his hands in the coat's pockets and watched as his owl, Soot, came flying through the window.
"Right…" John stepped forward, standing next to Sherlock with a curious look on his face. The owl hooted and flew away, diving into the night air without another thought. Sherlock studied a piece of parchment before turning to his new friend and smiling.
"Down to the greenhouse then?" John smiled in return and followed the taller Ravenclaw out of the tower and through the abandoned hallways. The night air hit his exposed face and neck and the Gryffindor felt himself shiver. "Here." Sherlock smiled softly as he stripped off his scarf and wrapped it gently around his friend's neck.
"Um…thanks." John smiled back and him and started towards the greenhouse, blue eyes roaming over the darkened grounds. Sherlock followed after, casting glances behind into the shadows surrounding the dimly lit castle. His eyes narrowed in thought as they walked slowly towards their destination, footfalls quiet and muffled in the wet grass.
"Real crime scene tape?" John chuckled, studying the yellow tape with large, black letters that covered the area around the greenhouse.
"Yes. What did you expect?" Sherlock asked the Gryffindor, raising an eyebrow curiously.
"I dunno, something…magical? We use this stuff in the muggle world all the time!" Tears were being squeezed out of his eyes as he stared at the tape.
"Well…there are charms placed as well." Sherlock frowned as he concentrated, closing his eyes and moving his wand in quick flicks and swishes before smiling at John and opening the door. The Gryffindor blinked in amazement and cast a quick glance around the grounds again. A shadow darted against the moonlight background and was gone in the blink of an eye. John frowned and followed his Ravenclaw friend into the greenhouse, shutting the door behind him.
