Here's Chapter 2!
Thanks to all who read this or will read this, and special thanks to all who liked, followed, or commented! ^.^
-Ted
The rest of the train ride was mostly filled with awkward silences, occasionally broken by Sherlock cursing or complaining about his nose blood dripping onto One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.
The high points in the rest of the ride was a discussion about Houses, and which one they expected to be in, and John's discovery of chocolate frogs. Sherlock didn't pay attention to the House discussion, but had to hold back a bout of laughter when observing John's amazement to the common wizard candy. The only reason why he didn't laugh was because it hurt his nose.
A head boy came into their cabin to alert the first-years that they were almost at the castle and they should change into their robes. Luckily, he was Slytherin, so he wasn't Sherlock's brother. Sherlock only gave him a glance before looking back at his book.
"What happened to your nose, kid?"
It took a few seconds for Sherlock to realize that the Slytherin was talking to him. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and asked, "Isen'd id ovious? Iwt bwoke."
The Slytherin blinked and responded, "Er, alright. How about I fix that for you?"
Sherlock sighed and didn't reply, for he knew the Head Boy would do it even if he said no. Plus, it would be easier than going to the nurse after the Sorting.
The Slytherin pulled out his wand, waved it, and said clearly, "Episkey!" Sherlock's nose suddenly got very hot, and then cold. He could tell it was mended, because the constant flow of blood had stopped.
Sherlock wiped the blood off his face with his sleeve and commented briskly, "Useful. I will have to remember that spell." He then took the time to look the Head Boy over. He smirked and said, "You're hoping to become an Auror, right?"
The Slytherin blinked and said in bewilderment, "How did you...?"
Before he could finish, Albus rolled his eyes and said, "Just don't ask."
The now confuzzled student ran a hand through his hair and asked, "What's your name, kid?"
"Holmes. Sherlock Holmes."
The older student sighed and said, "Oh, Mycroft's brother, right? I'm guessing that means you'll be going to Ravenclaw. Too bad, Slytherin could use someone like you. By the way, I'm Greg Lestrade. Welcome to Hogwarts." And with that, Lestrade left.
Rose, who was just sitting awkwardly in the corner, shifted in her seat and commented, "So, let's get our robes on. Don't want to show up dressed like muggles, right?"
As the train unloaded, the quartet of first-years were seperated, fading into the conglomeration of other students. Sherlock, unluckily, was stopped by his older brother.
Mycroft grabbed Sherlock's shoulder, and he turned around. Mycroft had a fake smile when he asked, "I see you made a few friends, brother. I am very surprised."
Sherlock jerked away and snarled, "I don't have friends!" He stormed off towards the boats, leaving Mycroft standing there, bewildered by his sudden rage. Sherlock darted into the boats, and quickly climbed into the back. Sherlock sighed and pondered his possible House. He figured that whatever did the Sorting would most likely put him in Ravenclaw, with his older brother. He really hated the idea; living forever in Mycroft's shadow, always being known as "Mycroft's Little Brother," no mater what he did or accomplished. Hell, if he committed murder, when people see him, their first thoughts will be, hey, look, it's Mycroft's baby brother. Didn't he kill someone? Sherlock closed his eyes and put his fingertips together, with his palms slightly apart, lost in thought. Maybe he could convince them to not put him in Ravenclaw...?
He was brought out of his thoughts by someone else on the boat commenting, "Hey, my big sister said there's a giant squid in the lake." One of Sherlock's eyes opened. He hadn't noticed the boats had started moving, but apparently they were halfway to the castle. The curly haired genius glanced at the lake and sure enough, there was some odd ripples in the water that should have been impossible. I really must come back here and study whatever that is. Seems interesting.
Sherlock's interest moved from the squid to the rest of the students. With only a glance, he could easily deduce tons of random facts about each of them by observing things anyone else would find irrelevant.
Half-blood. Has an older brother and a little sister. Has three cats at home, but brought an owl; they're family cats. Has a fear of drowning. Parents are happily married, but older brother's girlfriend is cheating on him. Very social, already knows many first-years.
Pure-blood. Did not bring an animal. Has experience with the school, and has four older siblings, one of which already graduated to become part of the Ministry of Magic. Despises muggle-borns, and defines people's worth by their family tree. A bully. Parents constantly fight, and are getting a divorce.
First wizard in the family. Brought a cat, but not a new one; had it for more than a year. Parents wealthy, only child. Not shy, but currently out of element. Mediocre intelligence, good schooling but never paid attention in class. Athletic. Parents fight, but not planning on a divorce, even though father having an affair.
Sherlock continued on like this, dissecting each one of the students mentally. His mind was racing, and he was disappointed when he realized how easily he could deduce all of them. His fingers nervously tapped on his knee, and his other leg impatiently bounced.
How long is this going to take?
Sherlock stood nervously outside the Great Hall, glancing around at the other First-years, picking apart the ones he hadn't seen on the boats and at the same time, Sherlock looked around for John, Rose, and Albus. He couldn't find them; too many people.
Sherlock zoned out, lost in his thoughts, until the first-years were called in. He filed into the Great Hall alongside the other students. There was a short speech by the headmaster, McGonagall, but Sherlock zoned out again (because speeches were boring) until he heard the words "sorting hat."
A sorting hat? Now that couldn't be right. He must have misheard.
But it was soon proved to be true when a few wizards brought out a large hat and sat it on the stool. There was complete silence until a seam in the hat ripped open like a mouth, and it started to sing;
For years I've sung my song,
About how this goes along,
How I put you all in your proper place
Though I have no nose, no body, nor face.
I can see inside your brain,
And save others the pain
Of doing this themselves
And then I return back to the shelves!
But I'll sing to you all year long,
If you find a hat with a better song,
For I'm sure you must see,
There is no headgear smarter than me!
To Gryffindor goes the strong and true,
The ones who will stick with you,
The ones brave and bold!
Slytherin takes the sly and cunning,
With ambition that's downright stunning,
Or at least so I'm told.
Ravenclaws are the witty and clever,
For knowledge is their endeavor,
For wit is a valuable treasure
Hufflepuff takes in everyone else,
So no one gets left by themself,
Their loyalty is far beyond measure!
So go ahead!
Put me over your head,
Give me a look inside.
There is nothing that you can hide,
From the brilliant Sorting Hat,
For I am a thinking cap!
When the hat finished it's song, the entire great hall burst into applause. No wonder, since it wasn't every day that you had the chance to listen to a singing hat.
After a few more words from McGonagall, that Sherlock, of course, ignored, the names began to be called.
"Ablent, Luke!" The boy went up to the stool and the hat was lowered on his head. Almost immediately, 'Ablent, Luke' was declare Hufflepuff by a booming voice.
"Acard, William!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
"Almun, Jenny!"
"RAVENCLAW!"
Then Anderson was called up. Sherlock hadn't paid attention to what his first name, all he heard was 'Anderson' and all he heard was an angry buzz. Anderson, after a short pause, was sorted into Gryffindor.
After him, 'Berns, Riley' was sorted into Slytherin, 'Corley, Daniel' was sorted into Hufflepuff, and 'Donnovan, Sally' was sorted into Gryffindor. The names after that just sort of blurred together, with 'Edgar, Harold' sorted into Ravenclaw, 'Frank, Bernard' sorted into Hufflepuff, and 'Garn, Jennifer' was sorted into Slytherin.
"Holmes, Sherlock!"
Holmes walked up to the hat and sat in the stool like the rest of the students had before him. As the hat was lowered onto his head, Sherlock's only thought was, Anything but Ravenclaw. Don't put me in Ravenclaw.