"He's obviously hiding something," Harry said for the third time that day. Hermione huffed.

"Even if he is, he's a teacher. He's entitled to some secrecy," Hermione replied, hardly looking up from her book. The food on both their plates were hardly touched. Harry stared at her for a moment before rolling his eyes.

"He can try to hide them, but I'm onto him," Harry said, staring up at Severus Snape. During the first potion lesson, Professor Snape asked fairly difficult questions directed only towards him. It was almost like Snape had it out for him.

"This is probably the reason he doesn't like you very much, Harry."

"If he didn't have secrets I wouldn't need to expose him. And besides, he started it," said Harry. Hermione groaned.

"You're acting like a child."

"While I may be the protege of Sherlock Holmes, I am still eleven, Hermione. Cut me some slack." Hermione simply rolled her eyes and returned her focus back to her book. Harry diverted his attention away from the teacher and back to Hermione, "I'm going to go talk to Neville, would you like to come with?"

"I can't. I need to stop by Professor Flitwick's class. I still have a couple of questions regarding that cheering charm he taught us," Hermione said, snapping her book shut. Harry sighed.

"Oh well. I will see you later, my dear Watson," Harry said.

"I am not your Watson!"

Harry smiled and watched as Hermione marched defiantly out of the Great Hall. After she disappeared out of view, Harry stood and walked over to Neville.

"Hey Neville. How's your first few days at Hogwarts been?"

"Oh, hello Harry. They've been alright. Most of the teachers really know their stuff. Quirrell seems scared of his own shadow and Snape is just scary," Neville replied, gulping a little out of fear at the thought of Professor Snape. Harry definitely had it the worst, but Neville was definitely on Snape's radar as well. Apparently, he couldn't do anything right. If Neville said two plus two was four, Professor Snape would likely have tried to argue that it was actually five.

"I'm in there with you, Neville. That man is one of the most unpleasant people I've ever met, and I've talked to convicted murderers," Harry replied, patting Neville's back.

"You're Harry Potter!" a redheaded boy suddenly declared, pointing at Harry.

"Erm… yes I am. Did you not know who I was these past few days?"

"Well yeah, but I never got to meet you! I'm Ron Weasley," the boy now known as Ron said, extending his hand.

"And obviously, I'm Harry Potter. It's nice to make your acquaintance," Harry replied politely, shaking Ron's hand. Ron nodded and immediately began to work on his breakfast. The copious amounts of food he shoveled into his mouth reminded Harry of his cousin Dudley and Uncle Vernon. Harry shivered and decided maybe Ron Weasley was meant to stay just an acquaintance.

Suddenly, hundreds of owls swooped down from the open window. Out of the many, Harry picked out Hedwig fairly easily. The snowy white owl swooped down and landed next to Neville's plate. Another owl, a tawny brown one with hazel eyes, landed right next to Hedwig and stuck its leg towards Neville.

"What's that package the owl's got?" Harry asked. Neville unwrapped it and pulled out a clear sphere that suddenly turned cloudy and red.

"That's a rememberall. It turns red when you've forgotten something," a pale boy with an irish accent said, "I'm Seamus, by the way, Seamus Finnegan."

"Nice to meet you, Seamus. Interesting. It appears you've forgotten something, Neville," Harry observed. Neville blushed a little.

"The trouble is, I don't know what I've forgotten," he said.

"You forgot your robes. The stark difference between you and almost everyone else made it fairly obvious."

"Thanks Harry!" Neville said, "Once breakfast is over, I'll grab it on the way to classes."

Hedwig hooted impatiently and stuck out her leg. Attached was a pale purple envelope with Harry's initials written in cursive. Harry smiled.

Dear Harry,

If you ever send mushy gushy love again, I'll poison you. Other than that, congratulations on making a rival! I do hope that he will push you to do your best. You must learn everything you can in order to defeat this person! Good luck and do well, my protégé.

Don't worry Harry, Sherlock's not going to poison you. Please please PLEASE do NOT get expelled because of this rival! Competition is good and all but you should be doing this for you. Just remember that. By the way, we finally encountered Moriarty again. He's looking for you so when you come back, we'll need to strategize. For now, enjoy your time at school! We miss you and Sherlock's dating a sociopath. You two would probably hit it off. Much love, ~John

Harry, it's so good to write to you! It's so strange to write instead of text! Just when I'm finally used to the new gadgets that are coming out, suddenly I'm transported back to using pen and paper! I miss you very much and I hope you are enjoying your school, wherever it is! Sherlock and John are so secretive about it. It's very strange. Then again, it is Sherlock and John. Anyways, Sherlock is telling me to cut this short, so rude. I love you very much and you better be staying out of trouble young man! ~Mrs. Hudson

Ps. I am not dating anyone, John is just a romantic. ~S.H.

"Did your dad threaten to poison you?" Neville asked, half serious.

"He's a high-functioning sociopath. It's his version of a joke and saying, 'I love you too' at the same time," Harry replied. The Gryffindors all stared at him.

"What's a sociopath?" Ron asked, finally looking up from his meal.

The first lesson of the day, and one that both excited and terrified Harry, was flying. Apparently, the whole stereotype of witches and wizards using magic broomsticks was a real thing. Harry had always thought it was a strange choice of transportation for magical beings, but there he was, learning to fly on a broomstick.

"Welcome to your first flying lesson, everyone! I am Madame Hooch, your flying instructor. I know many of you THINK you know how to fly, but believe me, you don't. No, if any, except for maybe one or two of you, decided to go out and fly, you'd break your necks! Now, let's not spend any more time talking. Stand next to your broom and hold out your hand over the broom and say 'up!'" Madame Hooch said.

As soon as Harry said the magic word, the broom leapt into his hand like an overenthusiastic puppy. Hermione was struggling with her broom. It rolled around and did almost everything but jump into her hand.

"It's a little bit like a puppy. You've got to be confident in your words. Otherwise, you just confuse it," Harry said. Hermione made a face.

"Since when have you been the broom expert?"

"I'm an expert at everything," Harry said confidently, although he had no idea where his advice came from. It just spouted out naturally.

"You are not. But I don't suppose it'd hurt to try… Up!" Hermione commanded. The broom jumped into her hands almost as eagerly as Harry's did.

"Wow," Hermione said.

"Now I want you to kick off the ground when I count to three. We'll float around for a bit and then touch back down," Madame Hooch said. She counted down and Harry and Hermione floated up. Soon they were about twenty feet in the air. Harry did a quick circle and smiled.

"I like this. I like this a lot," Harry said.

"I don't. I'm af-fraid of h-heights," Hermione stuttered. Harry smiled and floated next to her.

"Don't worry, my dear Granger. I'll catch you if you fall," Harry said. Hermione groaned and gripped her broomstick tighter.

"That still implies that I would fall, which I would like to avoid altogether, if at all possible. Also, calling me your Granger is not much better than Watson," Hermione said. Harry laughed.

"Alright, Hermione. I'll stop for now since you're scared."

"I'm not scared! I'm just very nervous."

"I think those are the same thing. Either way, let's touch back down. Sound good?"

Hermione nodded and together, they both floated down. Harry squeezed her shoulder and Hermione smiled.

"Thanks Harry."

A month passed and Harry loved Hogwarts with each passing day. He'd finally almost completely memorized where his classes were and even the staircases were beginning to be predictable. He thought he'd miss the appliances and technologies of the modern age but after a month, he hardly thought of them at all. His only connections with the muggle world now were his letters to and from Sherlock, John, and Mrs. Hudson.

He'd also made more friends than he'd expected. Neville, Hermione and him were closer than ever. When Harry or Hermione were around, Neville seemed to be more relaxed and talkative. Hermione appeared to take her head out of her books more often and Harry didn't try to analyze every little detail of everyone.

Halloween was approaching and cool wind blew through the autumn air. Harry and Hermione stood outside the potions classroom, waiting for class to start, when Draco, Crabbe and Goyle strode up to them.

"Good morning, Mr. Watson, Ms. Granger," Draco said politely. He'd really taken the friendly rival thing to heart and Harry loved the distraction. At first, Draco had underestimated them and openly challenged him to a midnight duel but Harry quickly put a stop to that nonsense.

"You're going to have to try a lot harder than that, Draco. I'm not stupid," said Harry, not even turning to face his's challenge. Draco huffed.

"Can't make it easy for me, can you? Fine. I'll see you around, Mr. Watson," Draco replied.

Draco snapping his fingers in Harry's face interrupted him from his memory.

"It's polite to acknowledge your betters. Even Ms. Granger said hello," Draco teased.

"You're not my better magically or academically," Hermione replied. It was well known amongst the first years that Draco and Hermione were in serious competition with one another in both aspects. Recently, Hermione got the upper hand by being able to cast Wingardium Leviosa before Draco could. She also got a perfect score on the transfiguration essay while Draco misspelled equability.

"Whatever," Draco said, his face turning a light pink. Harry personally enjoyed watching them compete as it allowed for him to sneak to top in the class without them knowing.

"Are you excited for the Halloween feast, Draco?" Harry asked, trying to ease the tension. Draco perked up immediately but Hermione was still scowling.

"I am, indeed. Father has told me all about the feasts. He says even Dumbledore couldn't muck up something as good as the Halloween feast," Draco replied, smirking. Hermione frowned but before she could say anything Harry cut in.

"We can only hope."

Just then, Severus Snape opened the door dramatically and gestured for the class to enter. Harry and Hermione took their place in front of the class. Draco and blonde girl by the name of Daphne Greengrass sat at the table next to them.

"You are to create the boil curing potion within the hour. Time begins now," said Snape. With a flick of his wand, writing appeared on the blackboard at the front of the room. Hermione glared over at Draco.

"We need to beat them, Harry."

"I'm pretty sure it isn't a competition, 'Mione."

"Draco makes it a competition. Also, 'Mione? Is that your most recent stupid nickname for me?"

"What, you don't like it?"

"It's better than Watson or Granger, so I'll allow it. Now let's get brewing!" Hermione said with determination. Harry laughed and pulled out his potion ingredients.

Sherlock awoke in a stupor.

"John? John!" he shouted. John opened the door to Sherlock's room and peeked in.

"Goodmorning Sherlock. Glad to see you're awake. I think Lestrade took some pictures, though."

"Where's the woman?"

"What woman?"

"The Woman, woman!"

"Oh yeah, Irene Adler. She disappeared, Sherlock. No one saw her go."

"She was here."

"She couldn't have been. She never came or left 221b."

With that, Sherlock slumped back into his bed. On his nightstand was a letter from Harry. A lipstick stain in the shape of a pair of lips decorated the top. There was also a small bit of writing.

A son eh, Mr. Holmes? I'm so excited to meet him. Give him my love in your next letter. XOXO, Irene Adler.