John woke up with a start. It was finally September 1st, and he was going to Hogwarts today. The last two months had been agonizingly slow, him finishing his books in one month and re-reading them the second. Normally he would have gone outside and played with Harry, but she refused to speak to him because she thought that he was a freak who shouldn't be around normal kids. By the time John and his mother were ready to head to the train station Harry had still not come down to say goodbye and John stood in the doorway still hoping. His mom motioned for him outside from the taxi and John whispered, "Goodbye, Harry" as he closed the door and headed out to finish loading the cabin.
Dumbledore had given John very specific instructions on how to get onto the platform so finding nine and three quarters wasn't as bad as it could have been. John hugged his mom goodbye and got her help loading the trunk. With one last wave he and Arya got onto the train to look for a compartment. John had been one of the last people there so he had to walk all of the way down to the end of the train to find an empty compartment to sit in. John stored Arya in the overhead compartment and pulled out his dad's copy of Hogwarts a History. It was the only book that he hadn't reread and he needed something to occupy the time.
After the train started moving John heard a loud commotion outside. He stuck his head out of his compartment and saw a small boy with raven curls on his head being pushed into the train wall by two other students. The raven-haired boy spat to the girl, "Well, Donovan, you may call me a freak but at least I'm not attracted to that idiot Anderson." When he said Anderson he made eye contact with the other boy that was pushing him against the wall. John couldn't take anymore and he crossed the gap between himself and the fight at lightening speed pulling out his wand and trying to remember the spell he learned about. He had never tried it before but now was the time to try. "Wingardium Leviosa" he slicked his wand and much to his and everyone else's disbelief the kids named Anderson and Donovan were being lifted into the air. John raised them up as high as he could and let them fall, landing a punch on the face of the boy before he cold regain himself. They both screamed and went running off to their compartment-yelling freak.
John put his wand back in his pocket and turned to the raven-haired boy. He extended his hand to help him up. After a moments hesitation the boy took his hand. "Want to share a compartment with me? I'm the only one in there," he offered. The boy sharply nodded his head and went to pick up his things. With John's help they were all settled in. John sat down next to the boy and put his hands on the side of his face. "This might hurt a little bit." He warned. He screwed his eyes shut in concentration and let only thoughts of what he boy would look like healed run through his mind. He felt a surge of power go through his hands and when he opened his eyes the boy was healed. He smiled satisfied and went back to his own side of the compartment.
"I'm John Watson by the way." He offered as he stuck out his hand in greeting.
The boy eyed his hand as if he was deciding whether or not he should shake it, but he finally took John's hand, "Sherlock Holmes." John smiled; maybe making friends wouldn't be too hard after all. "So why were you in a fight with those kids?" John enquired. Sherlock shrugged his shoulders, "We've known each other since we were kids and they think that I'm a freak because I can deduce people. For example." He took a deep breath before rattling off, "You're a half-blood, but you had to have someone come to your house because you didn't know about the wizarding world, most likely because your father died in a muggle war when you were seven. They would have sent Professor Sprout to your house seeing that she is the head of Hufflepuff House, which your father was in. You have an older sister, but you two don't get along, but that's just recent. Oh, and you've come into a large sum of money recently." Sherlock leaned back in his chair and wore a bored expression on his face, as if that was something normal.
John sat in his seat with a dumbfounded expression. "Brilliant!" he exclaimed grinning from ear to ear, "Simply fantastic! How'd you do it?" Sherlock looked taken aback at John's enthusiasm but explained nonetheless. "Easy," he smirked, "I could tell that you were a half blood because of the way you look at magic. No child who has grown up with it all of their lives reacts that way. Now, you aren't a muggle born because of your textbook and the scarf that is peaking out of your bag, clearly from Hufflepuff house, but old so not a friends, a parents. The only reason that your father wouldn't tell you about magic was if he wasn't around in your childhood, and based upon your posture I can tell that he was a military man, so the obvious conclusion was that he died in action. I said age seven because that's the date written on the back of the picture that you have in your pocket. You used to be good friends with your sister. I can tell because those are her old shoes, but you haven't been outside in a while seen by your lack of tan, which means you were cooped up, she didn't want to talk to you, probably out of jealousy. Now, they would have sent Sprout because in a lot of Wizarding families most members are placed into one house, so they would want to acquaint you with your potential head of house. Now, about the money. All of your things are new, your robes, your text books, and you have a pouch of money in your bag-heard it jingling around-but you didn't go overboard, you still have your old school bag and tattered shoes which means you didn't have this money until you found out about being a wizard." Sherlock took another breath when he finished and sat back waiting for the explosion.
John opened and closed his mouth a few times. "Well that was ruddy amazing!" he exclaimed excitedly. Sherlock couldn't help but let a smile creep onto his face. "That isn't what people normally say." "Well, what do they normally say?" John asked confused. "Piss off" Sherlock shrugged. The next thing they knew the two were erupting in a fit of giggles. Once they had calmed down Sherlock patted himself on the back, "Well, I didn't expect to get everything right." John smirked at that, "Well, you got nearly everything right. I am a half blood, my father was in Hufflepuff and he did die in a muggle war in Afghanistan, and they were supposed to send Professor Sprout to come pick me up." Sherlock looked confused, "supposed to?" he questioned. John merely shrugged his shoulders. "Yea, they sent Dumbledore instead, he wanted to talk to me about my magic." Now that, that got Sherlock's attention. He smirked, "Finally, someone interesting." He smirked.
He and John spent the rest of the train ride acquainting themselves with each other, John explaining his interaction with Dumbledore, Sherlock filling John in about the things he hadn't been able to read about. By the end of the train ride the two had become, well friends. The train came chugging to a halt and Sherlock swiftly stood up, "Come along, John, we don't want to be the last ones to the boat." John followed Sherlock out of the train after ensuring that they were supposed to leave their belongings there. After having settled into a train with a boy named Carl Powers and another named Mike Stamford they moved forward, the boats piloting themselves. Nothing in any of his books had prepared John for the wonder that was Hogwarts. He couldn't help but stare in child like awe at the magnificent castle. Sherlock, however, just looked as bored as always.
They were finally in the entrance hall fixed up in a line, Sherlock and John next to each other, of course, when a tall woman walked through the large oak doors. "My name is Professor McGonagall, and in a few moments you will be sorted into your houses. At Hogwarts your house will become your family. Any successes will win points and any rule breaking will lose points." At the lose of points Sherlock snorted earning himself a sharp glare from McGonagall. "Now, the four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. We are ready for you now." John gulped as he entered the Great Hall; it was time to be sorted.