Potter!Lock Johnlock fanfic
John was struggling to cope. He was looking around with wide eyes and his jaw slightly slack. Wow. He didn't know this whole…world existed. He was completely flabbergasted. It made his mind reel to think that this had always existed. It put him in awe and shock. He finally stumbled into a nearly empty compartment. He said nearly because of the fact that there was a boy with an… oddly wicked grin on his face that normally would have made him shudder, if it were directed at him. "Any of these taken?" He asked. The stranger's grin quickly vanished from his face and was replaced with his emotionless scowl.
"Well, if you would take the time to observe, you would have noticed that they are indeed, unoccupied." He replied, not bothering to hide the tone of disdain in his voice. Honestly, why was it so hard for normal people to see the obvious?
"Er, well they could be away, getting something they may have forgotten." John pointed out with a raised eyebrow. This must've been the type that Harry had warned him against. The stuck up…pureblood(?) type. Was that the word he was looking for? Anyway, he just put his luggage under the window and sat down, diagonal and across from the other boy. He gazed out the window, and sighed. Apparently, his parents had been…wary, as usual, of crossing the barrier of platform 9 ¾ . He ran a hand over his face and took a long breath. It was going to be a long seven years, knowing absolutely no one.
John just sort of looked out the window, sort of eavesdropping on other conversations. Finally, he couldn't take the silence anymore. "Which house do you want to be in?" John asked him, looking to the strange boy. Just because he might be scorned for the try at a friendly chat, didn't mean he couldn't try it. What was the harm if they would just end up parting ways anyway? Not to mention he could stand up for himself. He wasn't some shy weakling. He could handle whatever the other preteen could dish out. The boy glared at him.
"Ravenclaw, obviously. I do not care enough for other to be a loyal Hufflepuff, nor would I bother to try saving someone like the noble Gyrffindors. I certainly don't have the time, or the patience for the cunning guile it takes to be a Slytherin and I hate lying. No, I will be a Ravenclaw. You, no doubt, will be a Gryffindor, though you are loyal enough to be a great Hufflepuff. You show a great amount of bravery though. It must have taken a great deal of bravery to run through a wall when you did not even know magic existed until you received a letter from Hogwarts. Your father was the least surprised though, because the English military was warned when Voldemort was alive. They were sworn to secrecy, so he did not tell you until that point. He was a bit disappointed though because had high hope of you following in his footsteps. You have been trained to be a warrior." The stranger said while staring right into John's eyes.
John was hit with this sudden…life story of his own and he tilted his head. Huh. Spot on, actually. His father told him all about the secret he had to keep from him and his mother. Harry had known, seeing as she was a witch at that time, so it didn't matter if she knew. He sort of just sat back and looked at the boy with the startling unique hue for eyes. They held such intelligence. Not to mention that dialogue. Of course he would be Ravenclaw.
"That…was amazing." He told him simply. What else was he to say? He was being honest. It was the most…astounding thing he'd ever seen, despite magic of course. Magic would still be brilliant in his eyes. He looked to the genius.
"How did you…know all of that?" He asked him. He did not reply at first. Instead, he sat there in a momentary state of shock, though John did not know this at the time. To him it just seemed like he was sitting there glaring at John.
"It's elementary, my dear Watson. A simple power for deducing really. Everything about a person, from the clothes that they wear to the way that they sit gives away even their deepest thoughts and desires. I simply observed." He explained.
"For instance, I know your last name, because it is on your bag. I do not know your first name though." John blinked and was sort of left reeling for a grasp on all this information.
"Bloody Hell. No wonder you're so certain you'll be in Ravenclaw. You can tell all that just from the way someone sits and their clothes?" John was utterly entranced now. This was fascinating. He leaned forward, wanting to know more.
"You know, it's rude to ask for a name, and not give your own." John told him and smirked. Finally. A piece of information that this boy /didn't/ know, and that he could withhold if he so desired. He crossed his legs, one over the other, as he waited for a reply. John could be smart when he wanted to be.
"Indeed, but I have never been known to be a polite man. Though at the very least I suppose that I could make it even. My last name is Holmes."
"Fine." John pursed his lips and frowned. He had to think of a way to get him to tell him his whole name first.
"If you don't…deduce… my first name by the time we get to school, then you have to tell me your first name first. And, if I feel like it, I'll tell you mine." He smirked. He kind of liked the idea of the stranger being in the dark. However, he wasn't an unfair kind of person. He just wanted Holmes to question if he would actually tell him or not. Hopefully, his plan wouldn't completely and utterly fail.
"Even if you don't I'll hear it during the sorting, but I never turn down an interesting challenge." Holmes said after taking some time to think it over.
"Watson, what is a good name that goes with Watson, something that a soldier would name him. Something strong, sturdy, and old fashioned. Is it Peter?" Well he was on the right track, it was Biblical and strong after all.
"Mmm, no. Try again." John grinned. This was going to be a very interesting train ride to say the least. He crossed his legs, sitting back as he heard his phone give a notification he had been texted. Looking at who it was from, he immediately rolled his eyes and set it to the side. His sister. She had sent him a picture, apparently. He definitely didn't want to see that then so he put his phone away.
"Jordan, James, Simon, Mark… What was that thing?" Holmes asked, his features suddenly going from emotionless to highly intrigued.
"Was that the device that Muggles call cellular phones?" He asked, staring at John's hands where the object in question had been previously.
"No, no, no, and no." John hummed, leaning back to look at Sherlock and tilted his head.
"I prefer to simply call it a mobile, but yes. Wizards do have cell phones, right?" It was ridiculous to think they didn't. Honestly, what did they communicate with? Surely not something that would take a long time. What if there was an emergency?
"Of course not, we use owls and fire places." Holmes scoffed.
"Can I see it? Michael?" His face went back to the normal stoic mask, but eagerness could be seen in his eyes.
"Well, props to you. However, I'm not a junior, sadly for you. You guessed my father's name." John couldn't help but laugh at the owls and fire places.
"How do the owls and fireplaces work?" He tossed him his phone, because why not? He didn't have anything incriminating on it. The boy ignored his question in favor of toying with John's Phone.
"Your father… Yes that suits him. Ah, it's a gift from your sister, Harry?" Holmes had removed the back and was looking at the phone's insides.
"She was sober when she gave it to you but it was so that she could call you when she was in trouble, or to drunk to move properly." He observed. He put the back back on, and looked surprised when the front lit up and showed a locked screen.
John was a bit confused about why Holmes started taking his phone apart, however, he didn't really say anything. He just simply nodded. Well, everything that he had said was right after all. Also, apparently, Harry thought it was funny to send him idiotic text messages and phony links. He chuckled softly.
"Ah, you could say that. Next guess or do you give up yet?" He teased.
"Solomon, Judas, Daniel? Fascinating." Holmes had managed to unlock the phone, but he wasn't snooping through it. Instead, he was on a drawing program that John had. When it suddenly went off, he jumped and almost threw it but he managed not to and held it out to John.
"No, no, and no. I also can't give you a hint." It would be too obvious then. He couldn't help a soft snicker working its way out as Sherlock jumped from it going off. He took it, rolled his eyes, and dismissed the message. He put it to the side again. If Sherlock wanted to use it again, he was sure he'd ask.
"You should probably be careful with that device. If the Slytherin's see it they will break it and torment you for the rest of your time at the school."
"Why should I care about that? I can stand up for myself." However, he did slip the phone into his pocket. Not like Harry kept her phone a secret either. It would be a bit obvious he'd have one too, considering that he was her brother. He really had no choice at this school if they knew he was a muggle born.
"Thank you for the advice though." He smiled softly.
"Timothy?" The boys obvious stubborn streak just couldn't let it drop. John chuckled softly and crossed his legs.
"No," He yawned, almost in a bored manner, "Not even close." He smirked and leaned back to look at him. Holmes was…intriguing. Absolutely fascinating, actually. He could tell he could get easily frustrating though. Well, who couldn't? However, there was something different about it. Well, he had already figured out he didn't really have a filter of any sort.
"Noah?" He said after a while. John actually laughed. Should he tell him he got the number of letters right? No. That would be too easy. He knew Holmes would also take offense to that. Especially since he considered himself a genius. John leaned back and shook his head. "Nope. Try again." He told him. He didn't even know this other boy's name yet he was closer to him than anyone he'd seen on the train so far.
"Heaven, Alexander, David?" Holmes named off some more names, and while he was doing so, a woman with a cart full of treats knocked and entered their compartment. Holmes ordered a few things from her. John waved her off, and she soon left.
"No, no, and no. Who would name a boy Heaven?" John asked with a soft chuckle. He didn't have any…sickles? Was that what they were called? Either way, he had eaten at home, so he wasn't really all that hungry.
"Running out of ideas?"
"Hardly. Heaven was the name of one of my father's clients. Goliath, Salamander, Fig?"
"No, no, and no." John hummed out and looked out the window.
"Fine, one hint, alright?" He was honestly wondering if Holmes could guess his name without a hint, which was a surprise, due to the fact that he could tell him his whole life story, but not his name. It was quite funny, in John's eyes.
"No, I don't want any." Holmes snapped as he unwrapped his chocolate frog. He tossed the card that was in it to the side.
"Gabriel?" Sherlock asked.
"Absolutely not, but not to completely off, actually." John looked to the card that was tossed away and tilted his head.
"What's that?" He asked, and moved over to take the card. He wasn't going to sit next to him, due to the fact that it would be quite awkward, especially because there was so much room with just the two of them.
"Collectible card. All chocolate frogs come with them." There was a degrading and unimpressed tone in Sherlock's voice when he replied. Perhaps it was due to the fact that he was not used to talking to other people his age in a civilized manner, or so it seemed to John. Either way it didn't seem like Sherlock cared too much about angering people. Seem like he enjoyed it actually.
"Like those baseball cards that-HOLY SHIT DID IT JUST WINK?!" He screeched. He wasn't exactly used to pictures moving so he may have freaked out a little bit. He dropped the card, as if it had burnt him. What the hell was that? He took a step back from it. Was he just imagining it? Surely not...he didn't have that good of an imagination. Pictures just didn't move though. It wasn't possible. Was it? Holmes just sat there staring at John with a confused look.
"Of course it winked; they tend to do that from time to time. What do you expect, for them to stand around in there and not do anything all day?" His voice was definitely condescending at this point.
"Wait, that's…that's normal?" John was utterly and completely confused.
"That is…utterly insane." Somehow, he found the situation funny. Possibly from embarrassment. However, he found himself laughing softly at his own stupidity. He picked up the card and moved to sit back down.
"Next guess?" he asked, mostly trying to distract himself from the moving image. Sherlock didn't answer. Instead he stared at him.
"What do you expect them to do?" he asked again, this time sounding intrigued.
"Do you have a muggle photo to give me an example?" Holmes asked.
"Oh! I have one of all my family together." John smiled as he went to search his wallet for it. Of course he had photos of his family. He handed the picture to Holmes. There was him, his sister, his mother, and his father in the picture. Harry was leaning fully against John, who looked like he was struggling to stand and his father was chastising Harry. His mother looked resigned but happy.
Holmes's brow furrowed and he tapped the picture. When that failed he tried speaking to them, much to John's amusement. When that failed, he pulled out his wand, a mahogany seven inch wand with a vampire blood core, and tried tapping the picture with it
"They really don't move?" He asked, "Oh, and Jesus?" It was a bit farfetched for an English family, but why not? John started to snicker.
"No, that's not it either, and yes. They don't move. At all. Ever." He made sure to get his point across. John's wand was made of lignum vitae with a unicorn hair core. He didn't get what that said about himself but he preferred to brush it off and not think about it.
"Give up yet?" He asked in a slightly teasing tone.
"No. Peter, Corinthians, Julius?" He handed the picture back, " and your Mother is defiantly guilty of having a few affairs while your father was gone, but his father knows, and has not entirely forgiven her. Also I'll you a fair warning, here in the wizard world, pictures move, and they talk Al of them. They can leave their frame at will, and tend to visit their neighbor pictures." As he spoke, John got the feeling that he was observing him, as if to see his reactions.
"No, no, and no." John hummed out, "Seriously? They can leave their frames?" Oh, that was…kind of horrific, actually. He just hoped that none of the pictures could actually physically interact with anything. Talk about horror movie like. He sort of shuddered at that thought.
"Only to travel to other frames. They can't step out into the real world. Rumplestilskin?" He was about to say something else when a prefect opened the compartment door and walked in. Holmes literally hissed at the intruder.
"Sherlock, brother dear, I have come to inform you that we will be arriving soon. You and," The looked at the John, and John felt like he was once again being deduced, "John, will need to change into the school robes if you have not already done so." His gaze lingered on Sherlock though, and John couldn't quite read the meaning, but he could tell that Sherlock could.
"Oh! The Baptist! Damn I should have known that!" Sherlock cursed. The prefect raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow, clearly not amused at his younger brother's antics.
"No shit, Sherlock." John smirked softly. He liked the ring of that. He'd definitely use that more often, "Yet, you didn't. Interesting name by the way." He looked up to the prefect.
"Wait, he said, you…have a brother?" He looked to Sherlock and chuckled. Well, more surprises every minute, wasn't there? He stood to go change into the robes for school.
"Indeed, he has a brother. I'll see you after the sorting, brother dear." The brother in question said, and turned to leave.
"Maybe, unless your pet gold fish demands your attention." Sherlock smirked at the glare his brother sent him and John almost sighed in relief when the prefect slammed the door shut.
"His name is Mycroft, and now thanks to you he will probably be saying 'no shit Sherlock' every chance he gets." John snorted at that.
"Well, I'm still using that line. It's almost as if it's made for you." He couldn't help but laugh. He took the robes into his hands and made his way to the door but froze. Where was he supposed to change, exactly? Sherlock was already unbuttoning his normal robes. He smirked at John and then pulled the curtain over the compartment door's window.
"No need to be so shy John, I'm sure no one will walk in at this point. They're all probably rushing to get ready. Silly really, we have plenty of time." He explained. John's face was probably brightening in color but it wasn't as if he hadn't changed in front of others before. He shrugged. It was harmless, really. Like when he used to play rugby. You kind of had to shower after that. So, he slipped his jumper over his head, which mussed up his hair quite a bit.
" 'Suppose you're right. " He shrugged once more.
"Of course I am." Sherlock replied with a smirk that made john want to slap himself in the face. Way to stroke the guy's ego. John looked around, having lost the belt. Instead, his eyes caught the lean back of the other male and he blinked in surprise. Shaking his head, he went back to changing. He shrugged the button up shirt on.
"So, your brother is a prefect? How does the sorting thing work?"
"Yes, unfortunately. It's simple really. They put the sorting hat on your head, he discusses which houses would be best for you, and then he puts you in the house that the two of you agree on. After that, you join your house at their table." Sherlock explained. He waved his wand and his buttons did themselves up for him, and then he pulled on his robe and turned to face John.
"So, you practically choose your house? Or does he just decide between what he thinks is best?" John tilted his head as he had a bit of a struggle with his buttons. They didn't want to stay straight so the shirt ended up a bit crooked. He wished he knew how to make them button themselves. Maybe he could ask Sherlock at some point. He finally got it right, smoothed it out and made a face.
"That part is a secret." Sherlock replied, smiling to himself, "But you shall find out in about 2.5 minutes, because we are arriving." Around that time, the whistle blew and students could be heard moving about. Through their train window, the sight of the huge would be daunting tower came into view. The mist grew thicker, and a lake came into view. As the train slowed to a stop, Sherlock turned to John one last time.
"It was a pleasure deducing you my dear Watson." He said. Then he turned up the collar of his cloak and strolled out.
"Er, see you later then?" He called after him. Hopefully, he would see him again sometime soon. Turning his eyes back to outdoors, he realized that he probably should be leaving. So he left the compartment, and made his way to the exit.
~End Prologue~