Chapter Text
It was at precisely 10:55 am on September 1st that eleven year old John H. Watson boarded the Hogwarts Express, lugging his trunk behind him and turning to wave to his family, who he could barely make out through the crowds of people. He walked down the train, searching for an empty compartment but only finding ones packed with people. Finally, at the end of the train, he found one with only one other person occupying it.
Knocking on the door, he peeked his head in and said "Mind if I share? Everywhere else is full"
The other boy looked up from the book he was reading and with calculating, icy green eyes, and said "Not at all" before going back to his book.
"All right then" John said with a nod, hoisting his trunk onto the shelf above the unoccupied bench and slinging his book bag beside him, a few papers fluttering out onto the seat.
"I'm John. John Watson" he said, thinking it polite to introduce himself.
"Sherlock Holmes" said the boy across from him, not taking his eyes off his book.
"It's rather exciting isn't it? Going through the wall, I thought I was going to crash right into it!" John said after an awkward pause, trying to fill the silence. He pulled out his wand, cherry and unicorn hair, and twirled it in between his fingers.
He's determined to make conversation, thought Sherlock wearily as John's voice interrupted his reading once more. "Exciting? I suppose" Sherlock replied, looking up and scanning the room quickly to see what he could use. This will shut him up, he thought, happy with his plan "Battle of Astronomy Tower or Hogwarts ?"
"What?" replied John, a confused look on his face
"Your mother. I would think it to be The Battle of Hogwarts, but one cannot be sure"
"Yes, Battle of Hogwarts" There was another long moment of silence, as Sherlock went back to his book triumphant, thinking there would be quiet, only to be yanked back out of his mind palace by John's voice once more.
"It's kind of scary, you know. Coming here, not knowing anyone, or anything about anyone, but knowing that you'll be with them all for the next seven years"
Sherlock, now feeling slightly impatient, said "But you see, I know everything I need to about you already" John was looking at him quizzically, so he continued, speeding up his pace "I know that you're a halfblood, that your mother was the magical parent, a quidditch player but died during the Second Wizarding War. You're athletic, you play a muggle sport. Baseball, if I'm correct. Well, I'm basically always correct. You have a brother. A younger brother. You're restless, and like adventure. You're excited to go to Hogwarts, but at the same time you're scared it will bring up memories of your mother. That enough to go on?"
"How did you-did you research me or something? Read my mind with some type of magic?"
"Occlumacy? No. I just observed. It's written all over you."
"All over me? How?"
"I just deduced everything I know about you by merely looking and listening. For example, your wand. It's second hand, about 20 years old, a parent's wand. A parent wouldn't give their child their wand if they still needed it. Thus, a deceased parent. The Holyhead Harpies badge on your robes say that they were a quidditch supporter, and your last name is one of a famous quidditch beater from a little while back. Holyhead Harpies are all girls, so it was your mum who was the magical one, thus the one who died. Your arm muscles show that you're athletic, the callouses on your hands are from gripping a baseball bat. Perhaps you're trying to feel closer to your mum by playing the muggle sport closest to hers. The twitch in your leg and the way your eyes glance around the room every five seconds shows that you're restless, that you seek adventure. You're obviously halfblood because you don't know anything about magic. Only a non magical parent would shield their child from it. I knew about your brother's name from the card" he pointed to a good luck card which had fallen out of John's book bag. "It's signed 'Love Dad & Harry' This means an older or younger brother. You said that it was your first time going through the wall to platform 9 3/4, so you hadn't accompanied an older sibling there. I mean, he could be a squib, but highly unlikely. Oh, and the Battle of Hogwarts? I can read that on your face a mile away. Pain, guilt, mingled with hope and yearning. You want to see the place where she grew up, but you're scared, very scared, because it's also the place where she died."
"That was...amazing."
"You think so?" Sherlock said, sounding genuinely surprised.
"Of course it was. It was extraordinary. It was quite extraordinary"
"That's not what people normally say"
"What do people normally say?"
"Piss off" he grinned as John chuckled. Everyone thought that what he did was incredibly annoying, but John seemed to find it interesting. Maybe he wasn't so bad. "Did I get anything wrong?"
"No, except, Harry is my sister"
"Sister!" Sherlock cried out, slamming his book closed "Sister! I should've guessed! There's always something!"
"Ah well. What are you reading?"
Sherlock held up to book, which had the title Standard Book of Spells: Year 7
"Blimey! That's for seventh years!"
"Yes. The title indicates that, doesn't it?"
"You've read through all the course material for seven years?"
"Yes. It was rather simple"
"Sure." John said, giving up on trying to emphasize that it was not in fact normal to find coursework six years ahead of your own easy. Just then, a boy their age with close cut brown hair ran into the compartment.
"Sherlock!" he said, "come quick! We need you!"
"Hullo Lestrade" Sherlock said, sounding utterly bored
"C'mon Sher-oh!" he excaimed, stopping mid sentence when noticing John for the first time "Hi there!" he said genially, holding out his hand to John "My name's Greg"
"No it isn't" said Sherlock, looking at him sceptically.
"Yes it is. You've known me for years! How do you not know my name?"
"Oh...well, this is John"
"Hey" he said, shaking this Greg Lestrade's hand.
"Nice to meet you. Sherlock, some third year just lost the Herbology class toad that she was supposed to take care of over the summer. She's a wreck because she doesn't want to upset Professor Longbottom. Supposedly it was his toad when he went to Hogwarts, and he's rather fond of it. Can you-"
"Oh, all right." said Sherlock tiredly, getting up with a sigh.
"Great! I'll go tell them you're coming!" announced Lestrade as he ran out of the compartment
"Yes!" Sherlock exclaimed, leaping into the air, clenching his fists victoriously, the moment Lestrade was out of sight. "This will be fun!" he shouted happily, and loped out of the room, with John staring after dumbfounded.
He pulled out one of his new spellbooks, marvelling over the eccentricities of Sherlock Holmes and the quirky scene that had just unfolded before him. How can someone read people like that? They must have deep emotional awareness, but then again, he didn't even know his mate's first name.
He started reading the first page of his History of Magic textbook, already losing focus, when Sherlock appeared at the compartment door.
"You coming?" he said with a smirk, and that was all John needed. Jumping up, he followed Sherlock eagerly through the train as they tried to deduce where Trevor the toad had disappeared to.