Sherlock smiled. They walked further from the classroom to throw their cups in the bin.
"Did I get anything wrong?"
John's cane clicked on the floor as he walked. "Harry and I never get on, never have...The accident was about three months ago, still hurts a bit, and it was after a camping trip. Can't drive to save my life...and Harry is a drinker."
"Spot on, then. I didn't expect to be right about everything."
John chuckled and shook his head. Sherlock and John made their way into the chemistry lecture hall, filing in along with a slew of other students. John took the seat beside Sherlock, center second row. The middle-aged professor stood on a stool behind his desk, overlooking a pile of papers that threatened to spill over onto the floor if not tended to. He had a hawk-like nose and a face that has never seen the sun. The professor spoke once the room had quieted at his echoing call.
"Well, then. Good morning. I'm Professor Linus Dmitri, and I've been teaching chemistry long enough to know that once you start reading a book about helium you'll never be able to put it down."
The students erupted in chuckles, and John noticed a mildly amused Sherlock.
"Sense of humour."
"Hm."
"I'm going to teach you how to look at problems in different ways, and soon enough you might see that the difference between an optimist, a pessimist, and a chemist is that to us, a glass is never half full or half empty but simply half air and half water." Dmitri downed his own half-air-half-water glass and seemed to look about the room in contemplation. "The seats you have chosen will be yours for the rest of the year. Back rows, I have my eyes on you; that is not to say I won't be watching you too, front rows. Anyone caught chatting, eating, or sleeping during the lecture will be dismissed without question. When you step foot in here your time is not your own until you once again step out." Dmitri paced the room and proceeded to pick random students to introduce themselves and discuss a chemical element after which the professor would elaborate. It was in this way the lecture was given over the hour before. Each professor seemed to have their own ways of keeping the students engaged and learning, and John found it interesting.
The next two lectures that followed after chemistry was the biology of cells and materials science. John and Sherlock remarkably enough took the same classes. It wasn't until lunch that the pair spoke much more after that astounding event before lectures started. John found that the more time he spent with Sherlock the more he was left wondering. After supervisions, the professors more group-focused sessions, John collapsed onto his bed.
"Whoo. What a day."
"It was intriguing."
John heard the fridge door open.
"Do you want anything, John?"
"Sure. Anything to eat?"
"Plenty thanks to my brother. Pasta?"
"Fine." John shuffled over in his socks to the bathroom to shower.
"I'm going out. Don't wait up. Pasta's on the stove."
John poked his head out the door to catch Sherlock slipping out through the door with yet another bottle of that sporting drink. John sighed and rose his eyebrows with a chuckle. A few minutes later he emerged in fresh clothes and jumped to find Sherlock sitting on an armchair looking at him.
"I thought you were going out." John ran his hands over his spiky, wet hair.
"You want to be a doctor."
"Yes."
"You don't mind being around blood or cadavers, then?" Sherlock stood and ambled towards his new acquaintance.
"I can handle it. Comes with any future training and experience I might have."
"You would like to get some now?"
"God, yes."
Sherlock smirked.
And so the pair set out locking the door of the dorm and racing down the stairs before jumping into a cab that was there as if by magic.