Choke On It
John had gotten used to things. The moving stairs didn't utterly baffle him anymore and he didn't get as lost as he did on his first week. Which was a relief because he was sure his teachers were about to string him up by his Achilles heel. He'd met some amazing people too. He'd met Molly, Greg, fleetingly saw Mycroft but only around Greg, and Mike. However, he hadn't seen the person that he had been wanting to see for quite some time now. The mysterious Sherlock Holmes.
John was rushing down said corridor to get to class. For some reason, the Slytherins thought it was a game to always make John Watson, the muggle born with muggle toys, late for class. One way or another, they always seemed to get in his way. This time, however, it was his own fault, as he had gotten caught up in chatting to Molly, who seemed to know a lot about Sherlock. Sure, they talked about other things but she seemed infatuated with Sherlock so John got a lot of his information about him from her. Not noticing the Ravenclaw coming down the corridor, he rushed right into him and knocked himself flat against the ground. Sherlock looked startled, but managed to keep his footing.
"Honestly, John, I had taken you to be smarter than the kind of people who run in halls." Sherlock sneered. He didn't even bother to help John up, not that John had expected it. John gathered his things and sent him a challenging smirk.
"Not everyone can be a genius, Sherlock." He stood, and grinned at him. It was almost friendly, their little banter.
"So, we finally meet again? And right when I have to get to class too. I hope to see you again soon, and hopefully when I have more time." He called as he rushed off.
As a result of their little run in, John was late for potions which was never a good idea. Sure, he heard that this professor was better than the one that had died before, Professor Snape, but they were still rather strict on being late, and he had been given detention. Ugh, why did the potions class room have to be down in the dungeons and so far from his previous class and the great hall? Honestly, it took so long to get there that they should have some sort of teleportation pad set up for them or something. He just hoped that detention wasn't too bad. He had heard that it had changed a lot, but he still wasn't looking forward to it. Then again, he actually might meet get to see Sherlock there. He'd heard that Sherlock wasn't exactly the most well behaved student, which really was not all that surprised.
The Slytherins and the Gryffindors spent an awful lot of time together for enemies , John noted as he stirred his cauldron and looked the class over. The houses were always against each other, and yet they shared so many classes. Naturally, when the Gryffindor boy entered late and tried to sneak into the room, he had gotten jeers from some of the Slytherins who took it upon themselves to alert the Professor. As a result the room was filled with a hostile aura as Slytherins and Gryffindors glared at each other. John felt oddly ashamed and responsible for this.
Despite all of this, John actually rather enjoyed potions. It was almost soothing, the way you could mix things together with the proper measurements and preparation and get something completely and utterly… well, magical. His next class was flying lessons, and to be dead honest, he was looking forward to those. Quidditch fascinated him. He'd love to join the team, at some point. He was sure first years weren't allowed to try out for it. John shook his head, and turned his attention back to the task at hand. When potions was over, he quickly packed his things and bolted from the room, not wanting to be late for yet another class. On his way he was joined by some of his new friends.
John was chatted animatedly to them as they made their way to the flying field. They were explaining the concept of Quidditch, the rules, the positions, and what you had to do. It sounded so enthralling. They stood there waiting for what felt like an eternity before the Professor appeared. She gave them a quick little speech, and then finally, it was time for them to put their lessons to test and see if they could hold their weight in the air. John's broom had no trouble lifting into his hand and he thought that was a good sign. He beamed, and got onto the broom like how it was taught to do. He flew into the air with seemingly no problem, however when he went to go forward, he ended up flipping over and landing on his back. He grunted as his head bounced against the ground. He tried to sit up and tell everyone that he was okay, but the world suddenly turned black…
John awoke in the infirmary, and was told that he'd just have to wait the rest of his flying class out that day, which really was ridiculous! All he had done was hit his head on the grass. He scoffed and rolled his eyes when the nurse left, but he did find the infirmary interesting. Soon, he found himself asking her questions about how she would diagnose something like a concussion. Magic apparently made it easier. Though magic wielding nurses still had their problems, especially with cures and the like. When John was finally free, he walked out, feeling sort of… happy? Maybe he'd get the hang of flying soon. He was on his way to the dorms when he remembered he had to be elsewhere.
John sighed as he approached the door for detention. To be honest, he felt apprehensive. He snorted at how ridiculous the fear was. How bad could it be? He doubted a lot of people got detention on during their first week of classes. Then again, look who he was talking about. He sighed and pushed his way through the obnoxiously heavy door.
Thankfully for John a detention hall had replaced the terrible idea of letting professors choose their punishments, or so he had been told. John was sure he didn't want to know what the other punishments would have been like. He decided to take this opportunity of time away from the rowdiness of the Gryffindor pranksters to actually get some work done. Then again, he kind of wished he was in his house's common room. It was always entertaining there, and here he was surrounded by people he didn't know. At least there was a teacher to preventing people from getting too loud or being rambunctious he thought but then Sherlock strolled into the room as though he owned the place. He gave his name to the professor who was in charge, and then surveyed the room. He quickly spotted John and took the free seat next to him. He gave a warning look to the boy in front of him who had turned around as though to say something to them.
John had already settled down with his homework, but with Sherlock next to him he wondered if he would be allowed to do so without distractions. He couldn't help but wonder how long detention was. He gave a polite smile of greeting to Sherlock. This of course was all the permission that the genius needed to begin speaking to John.
"Can I see your phone?" He whispered, earning him a questioning glance from John. After a few moments off thinking it through John shrugged and slipped it from his pocket, handing it to him underneath the table. Really, it was surprising that Wizards didn't have something even better than a cell phone by now, because it was honestly really ridiculous. If they took an initiative to mix magic and technology… it would be mind blowing. Oh well. He was sure Sherlock probably thought the same way, especially judging by the look on his face. Sherlock carefully took out his wand and began to whisper a spell.
"I have put up a barrier so that the Professor thinks that we are sitting here silently working. I want to duplicate your phone and see if I can make a wizard version. Goodness knows we need one." The Holmes boy explained.
"I agree. How could you contact someone in an emergency? There aren't fireplaces in every room." He agreed, turning towards him and sitting his quill down. It was rather entrancing, watching his phone duplicate. It similar to a cell going through mitosis actually.
"Whoa. Does that have all of my stuff on it too?" He asked, a bit worried that Harry might text him and Sherlock answer. Oh wait. That would be hilarious, never mind. He took his original phone as Sherlock slid it towards him.
"Yes, but it won't receive anything that you add after its time of creation. I didn't duplicate the data service, and I'm not sure that I could without them noticing." He explained.
"I intend to do a factory reset though, so that I can use it as a blank slate." John wondered just how much information Sherlock had learned while looking his phone over on the train. Maybe the genius had other sources. John sure hoped so, because it had taken him forever to find out what a factory reset was, and he had been on the phone with his phone companies help center when he learned it.
John slid his original phone into his pocket. When Sherlock was done with the factory reset, he made sure that there were no unnecessary programs downloaded. When he was done deleting them, he held his hand out.
"Wand." He said to John in a monotone voice. John had seen Sherlock slip his wand into his robes, so he could only stare at Sherlock with a 'really?' look until it became clear that Sherlock was being serious.
"Isn't it right in your pocket?" John asked him with a raised eyebrow of disbelief. However, when all he got was a stare, he scoffed and rolled his eyes. He reached into the pocket that he had seen the wand go into and pulled it out, handing it to him.
"There." He turned back to his homework as Sherlock began to weave what seemed to be a complicated spell, but his eyes kept flickering over to what Sherlock was doing. It really was fascinating, watching him work and seeing the things that he could do with a wand. He moved and even looked with such purpose and intelligence, it was very intriguing. John hoped to be able to befriend this other boy.
After a while it began to look as though Sherlock was making the spell up as he went. John doubted making up a spell as one went was very safe, but what did he know? It wasn't as if he was well versed in the terms of magic. He brushed the thought off and tried to concentrate on his homework. It was hard to do though, with the Holmes boy working right next to him. When Sherlock was apparently satisfied with the results, he ended the spell. As soon as the magic stopped, the phone's screen lit up with a bunch of different colors, and then turned off again. Sherlock picked it up and turned it on. Instead of showing the usual phone company logo as it loaded, it showed a wand, slowly lighting up. When it was done loading, a screen similar to the phones normal lock screen came up, but it could only be unlocked if it were touched by the wand of its master.
John was fascinated. He knew that technology mixed magic could come to something extraordinary but even with a phone? It really was captivating. He leaned over to take a closer look.
"How…?" He asked, raising his eyebrows up at him, "That is utterly brilliant." He told him simply and moved away. Sherlock might just be trying to show off, but it was still bloody brilliant.
"Really now, it's actually elementary, my dear Watson." Sherlock replied a he unlocked the phone. It kept the same basic background features, but like wizard pictures and live wallpapers, it moved.
"John Watson." Sherlock said to the phone. It came up with images of different people with different variations of the name, but it listed them in order of how close they were to Sherlock. He tapped the picture of John, and then typed out a text. On John's own screen, a tiny icon of an owl clutching a letter began to fly around. It was only the weather forecast for the day, but John was surprised that the two phones could interact with one another.
"I need to take down the barriers." Sherlock said to John, motioning towards the Professor who had suddenly found the two boys to be interesting.
"Then let's put these phones up and actually get some work done, yeah?" John told him sternly and went back to his homework. However, he was sure from the glare that he received that this would not be the case. Sherlock pulled his books out, and then took the spell down while the Professor was looking away, and then quickly hid his wand. He took out the phone, hid it behind the book that he was holding and began messing with it. John couldn't help but watch in amusement as Sherlock began to surf the internet. He blushed when the genius found his blog.
John had never had anything to post on his blog, if truth be told, until he met Sherlock. He may seem like a schoolgirl with a crush, but really, Sherlock was brilliant. He had described how he could tell him his whole life story, except for his name, which, he thought was absolutely hilarious. However, he had left out any and all magic and the questions about his mobile.
"Really John, must you over romanticize everything?" Sherlock asked as he read the blog over. This having been spoken at a normal speaking volume level, echoed through the room as though it had been shouted, and earned Sherlock and John many odd looks and a glare from the teacher.
"Do the two of you wish to be in detention again tomorrow?" The Professor asked.
"Will it be less dull and mind numbing than it is today?" Sherlock asked in retort. John elbowed him, rather hard, in the ribs to get him to get the hint to shut up. Really, they could talk about this later. He did not want to end up in detention again. He was done with it. His blog was his to write, so Sherlock could bugger off of that. He'd write it how he wanted it. However, the looks from the other students were a range of disbelief, raised eyebrows, and snickering. He sighed softly. People would talk.
"I apologize, Professor that was very unbecoming of me." Sherlock said, and then glared at John as though he owed him for that as far as the Holmes boy was concerned.
"It is alright lad, just don't do it again." The professor replied, and then he continued making his rounds. Sherlock slumped down in his chair with a huff, and then pulled out his phone.
I could have handled it. I know his whole life story, remember? I could have even gotten us out of here now. –SH
John sighed and looked at his phone and once he read the text he rolled his eyes. He decided to text him back instead of voice his irritation.
Yet you could have gotten us in even MORE trouble and got us detention for the rest of the week –JW. He shook his head with a tsk. For a genius, he didn't think things through a lot. Sherlock huffed at the text and replied.
You don't understand John; I have DIRT on this Professor, something he would definitely NOT want getting out! – SH. John sighed softly, and ran a hand through his hair. Well, he was right, they weren't getting actual work done! He quickly texted him back.
Either way, I'd rather not end up on a professor's bad side for my friend knowing things about him. A bit not good, that. –JW. Then he watched in amusement as Sherlock attempted to reply, but the screen faded out and he growled. Finally, he turned back to his homework, but he snickered softly at Sherlock's phone problems. He wondered what was wrong with it. Slipping his own phone back into his pocket, he gave his friend a pat on the head in an almost teasing manner. Then he went back to his essay that he had to write for potions. He was actually quite good at that class, which he was pleasantly surprised at.
Sherlock felt his face burning by the time John got back to work. No one had ever patted him on the head like that before. His parents, being perfectly average pureblood wizards, would always tell him that he had done well and all, but by the time he was old enough to crave their praise, Mycroft had pretty much scared them out of doing so. Since Mycroft did not like physical contact, it was assumed that Sherlock did not as well. For the most part this was fine for him, but everyone craves contact from those they love, so Sherlock had been conflicted as a child. Should he live up to his brother's expectations, or be true to himself. He sighed realizing that this was something that he still struggled with.
John was surprised when he got his work done rather quickly. It wasn't too much, just a page or so in 'muggle paper'. Apparently the wizarding world was too good for that too and had to stick to parchment, which was rather odd in his opinion. Once done, he turned to Sherlock, who had folded his arms up and rested his head on them, and gently poked him in the side. His parents had always been rather physically affectionate, with pats on the tops of heads for a good deed or in his mother's case kisses to cheeks. He had picked up their habits, naturally. Sherlock turned his head towards John, but did not lift it off the desk. He opened his eyes and looked up at him in a bored fashion.
"What?" He asked in a sleep laced voice. It was obvious that he was not entirely too pleased with being awoken. John was rather surprised at the fact that Sherlock had been asleep to begin with. He didn't seem the type to fall asleep in detention but… then again… He shook that off and sighed, leaning his chin on his hand, elbow on the desk.
"Mind explaining what you have planned for the phone?" He asked him quietly, feeling that it was okay to do so now that he was done with his work.
"Well I have to work on it clearly; this one is just a beta version. When I work out all the issue I plan on introducing it to the ministry and they will most likely take the project over from there. That way I can spend my time doing more important things." Sherlock replied like it was the most stupid question ever. John raised an eyebrow at that.
"More important things? You could be the one to actually make the wizarding world catch up with the muggle world." John knew most wizards thought it was reversed, that the muggles were using technology because they couldn't use magic, but magic would just make technology easier and more efficient. Combining the two was a rather big breakthrough but John knew he wouldn't be the one to do something like that. He was mainly thinking of doing something dealing with people, but he didn't really know what yet.
"And why should I have to be the one to do that? Muggles are far more interesting anyways. Especially when I don't even have to waste my time with magic, and can still figure out more then they! Scotland Yard takes weeks to do something I can do with one glance. They do suspect me half the time though." Sherlock said. A piqued interest really isn't a good thing to have around Sherlock Holmes, John decided, as he wondered if he should ask him what he could find out in one glance that took Scotland Yard so long. Finally, swallowing down the apprehension, he did ask the question with a tilt of the head.
"I know you can find out someone's life story from just looking, but what else can you find out and how can it possibly help the Yard?" He asked after the initial question. Sherlock blinked before answering, looking a bit sheepish.
"I solve cases for them. They call me a consulting detective." He explained. Yep, John's previous thought was proven right and his interest grew.
"Do you really? What all do you do?" John asked, almost in a fascinated ton, which he truly was, seeing this boy actually solved bloody cases. Actual murders and put people in prison. It was fascinating to say the least.
"I examine the bodies, and then I tend to capture the culprit before the Yard has even had a chance to prove that the evidence I found was indeed valid. Then they get angry with me, and say they will never use me again. Then the moment that someone turns up dead they call me again. It's annoying really. They know that I only want the interesting cases, and I could use a doctor because their medical examiner can't tell a finger bone from a toe bone."
"Well, my dad has taught me a few things. I'm not sure if I could tell the difference between a whole lot of things, but I'm thinking of going in that direction in life, yes." John wanted to be the one to help out, because that sounded utterly fascinating and…exciting. It wasn't often John got himself into something dangerous.
"Wait, how do you do that while on grounds?" He asked. Sherlock laughed. Of course John, perfectly strange amazing John, would want to help solve murder cases.
"Oh, I have my ways." He replied with a blank look on his face. The look however, did nothing to hide the glint in his eyes. John frowned at that glint but found he was rather too excited to really care. However, he would soon learn to never, ever underestimate that glint in Sherlock Holmes' eyes, especially if it was trying to be concealed with a blank look.
"Well, alright." He nodded. Sherlock grinned and sat up straight. He stretched and stood up. Most of the kids in detention had already left and the professor in charge was glaring at the ones who were lingering. John stood as well, sliding his books into his bag smoothly. He winced because his legs were rather stiff. He stretched, closing his eyes and sighing.
"Well, what now?" He asked as he was soon leading the way out of the room. He looked back to Sherlock with a raised eyebrow.
"Have you eaten today?" He asked noting that the boy really was thin. Sherlock raised an eyebrow and looked at him.
"I ate yesterday. That is all the energy that I require." He replied with a dismissing wave of his hand.
"Ah ah. No, come on, we're going to the Great Hall, and I will feed you myself if I have to." John told him sternly, looking at him with narrowed eyes. He wouldn't let him fall into malnutrition. He'd seen it happen and he'd rather not watch Sherlock go through it.
"John, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself thank you." Sherlock replied flatly. He was about to say something else when John turned and shoved a biscuit into his mouth and covered his lips with his hand. He gave him a rather forceful glare.
"Eat. It." He told him firmly, not planning on moving an inch until he saw/felt him swallow the biscuit. Sherlock glared at John, but made no move to swallow or to try and resist John. This of course earned the boys the attention of their passing peers. John ignored them and kept his hand over his friend's mouth and he raised his eyebrow up at him.
"I'll shove it down your throat if I have to. I'd rather not have to be violent but if you push me that far, I will." Not to mention intubation would be a better option. Sherlock narrowed his eyes into slits in response. By now a small crowed had formed and people were whispering to each other. John heard Sherlock's stomach growl and he smirked. He knew he would win this but Sherlock wasn't going to go down without a fight. The crowd was proof of that. It made John feel a little self-conscious but really, what were they even staring at? It wasn't as if he was snogging him in the middle of the hall. He just had his hand over his mouth.
Sherlock held out for a few more minutes before his damn body finally overruled his mind. He swallowed, and then glared at John. John smiled and removed his hand.
"See? Now was that so hard to do?" He rolled his eyes. Honestly, Sherlock was so damn stubborn sometimes. It was annoying but endearing in its own odd form. If that wasn't an odd thought, he didn't know what was.
Sherlock did the only indignant thing that his body seemed to be able to do at that moment. He pouted. The staring students around them began to gawk at the sight. Sherlock Holmes, a genius who could figure out your life story with one glance, had been reduced to pouting! John smirked and nodded.
"Good. Now, we're going to the Great Hall and you're going to eat, whether you like it or not." He told him simply. He wouldn't back down. He could be just as stubborn as his friend and so he grasped his bicep and proceeded to drag him to the Great Hall.
((A/N: SPOILERSPOILERSPOILER.
Dear Readers, John is going to be the nephew of Hermione Granger because Emma Watson.
We are going to say that her parents had a child after the series ended. There is a huge age gap, about seventeen years, but oh well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.))