Molly Hooper had taken notice of him. He was a year older than her. She'd noticed him during her Sorting, when she looked to the Ravenclaw table. Her mother had always hoped she'd be a Hufflepuff, like her, and her dad knew she'd be a fantastic Gryffindor, but Molly had known in her head that she was destined for brilliance. And that she was destined to sit next to that curly-haired boy with the bright eyes who watched her intently.
"RAVENCLAW!" The Sorting Hat boomed across the Great Hall. Molly shakily set the hat on the stool she was perched on and made her way to the table, as "Hope, Gregory" took his place. She slid into the seat next to the boy. He turned to her.
"Congratulations. I knew you would be in Ravenclaw. Obvious choice for you. Although at first glance you could be a Hufflepuff. One of your parents must have been one."
"Oh, um…" Molly wasn't sure how to respond.
"Sherlock Holmes, by the way." He extended his hand.
"Molly Hooper." She shook. His fingers were icy.
"I know. They just called your name."
"Oh. Right. Sorry."
"You're still a bit nervous from the Sorting, clearly. It won't be so bad. And the Sorting Hat is never wrong. It made the right choice. Of course, I practically Sorted myself. "
"What?" Molly was already confused within five minutes of meeting Sherlock Holmes.
"Oh, I just figured out where I needed to be on my own, and told the Hat so. It thought I should be in Slytherin. Of course, then I wouldn't have met my best friend."
"Oh, who's that?" Molly looked around.
"Him, over there. " Sherlock pointed to a blonde-haired Gryffindor who was clapping for the new Gryffindor who had just been sorted. "John Watson. If I were a Slytherin, so-called 'house rivalry' would probably have made our paths never cross."
"Good friends, then?"
"Well, he puts up with me. And we sort of share a loathing for that Slytherin over there. "Sherlock pointed to a dark-haired boy. "Moriarty. Jim Moriarty. Can't stand him. I'd avoid him if I were you."
"Oh. Thanks." Molly didn't speak for the rest of the feast, but listened to Sherlock telling her which teachers were good, which ones to lay low in, shortcuts to classes, and which students could be trusted. Oddly enough, he and John were the only ones he listed for the last one.