This is a Sherlock and Harry Potter crossover, and therefore anything you recognise belongs to JK Rowling, Arthur Conan-Doyle, or the BBC. However, while have taken the concepts for the characters, I have also tried to add my own twist to them, so they may not be the traditional perceptions that people are used to. My Sherlock and John are still growing up, making friends, discovering their talents, and finding their places in the world. This is the first instalment of what will hopefully become a series, and I decided to start right at the beginning: first year. Some avid Sherlockians will notice some rather big deviations from the originals. For instance, Mycroft is only five years older than Sherlock, and Harry Watson is younger than John. I have also not completely followed the plot-lines of the originals, for what I hope are obvious reasons. This story is very loosely based on A Study in Scarlet.
It is set five years after the war, and while a lot of characters from the original series do appear at some point, they are not the main focus of the plot.
Feel free to comment and I will be happy to answer any questions. The story is now on the last chapter in notebook form, so I hope I will be able to update regularly!
It was the first of September, and the first years were gathered in a frightened huddle by the staff table, highly aware of the eyes of the school that were scrutinising them. Amongst them was a John Hamish Watson, who couldn't help feeling a bit overwhelmed. It had been a very strange day, and he had already realised that the magical world was very different to the 'muggle' surroundings he was used to. He took a deep breath in as the hat finished singing, and felt the comforting weight of his father's pendant against his chest. He hadn't taken it off since his death. A tiny little wizard clambered onto a chair, and pulled out a sheaf of parchment longer than he was. He began reading out names.
The girl sat on the stool, and pulled the hat onto her head.
'Anderson, Fred', and 'Brown, Elizabeth' went to Gryffindor too, but 'Camu, Rose' became the first Slytherin, and the green and silver table exploded with cheers. John breathed deeply again, and tried not to panic. Mary Morston, a girl from the train had attempted to explain the house system to him, but he had to admit that he hadn't fully grasped it. He turned his attention back to the names.
This time he recognised the face. The boy on the stool had sat for a while in their compartment, muttering about 'Mycroft's personal opinions. He was an odd looking boy, pale and thin, and he had not spoken directly to either him or Mary at all. There was a very long wait; the hat seemed to be facing a hard decision. The boy's green eyes were flickering across the hall, surveying the students.
"SLYTHERIN!" screamed the hat. The green and silver table cheered again, but the boy threw a triumphant glance at the Ravenclaw table before taking his seat. The sorting continued without a hitch. When 'Morston, Mary' was called, John gave her an encouraging smile, which she returned as her blonde hair vanished under the hat.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" it called immediately.
The names continued to come, and soon there were only a few people left.
John sat on the stool with trembling legs.
Hmm, tricky. Nerves of steel, but not reckless enough for Gryffindor. Ooh, another one. Well, isn't that interesting…
John scurried gratefully to sit next to Mary, who gave him a friendly smile. Very soon the sorting was over, and headmistress McGonagall got to her feet.
"Welcome!" she smiled. "There are a few start of term notices, but for now, let the feast begin!"
Food materialised on the plates before them. John had never seen so much food in one place, and certainly not recently. He piled his plate, listening to his fellow first year's conversations.
"Well I'm a pureblood," Mary was saying. "But my whole family has been in Hufflepuff."
"Lucky you," said Peter miserably. "My parents were both in Slytherin, dunno what they'll do to me now."
"I didn't even know about magic until I got my letter," said Jenny.
"Same," chanted the twins, Edward and Emily. "We were very surprised."
"Me too," said John, joining in for the first time. "I thought mum was gonna faint."
The others laughed, and the chatter continued until the food vanished off the plates, and Professor McGonagall stood up once more.
"Now, just a few notices… will the first years please note that the forbidden forest is strictly out of bounds for all students. I would also like to announce some staff changes for the coming year. As you may know, Madame Pomfrey has decided to retire, and I would like to present the new school nurse, Mrs Hudson."
There was scattered applause.
"Also, our old caretaker Argus Filch has also decided to leave us, and so could you please give a warm welcome to Mr Carson."
There was more clapping, but this seemed a little more enthusiastic.
"Lessons begin tomorrow morning. Dismissed!"
As one, the school rose to their feet, and began chattering excitedly. A tall boy with a yellow prefect's badge on his robes darted down to the first years.
"First-years! Hufflepuff first-years! Everyone here? Good! Follow me!"
As they left the hall, John caught a glimpse of the skinny boy who had taken so long to sort. He was being badgered by a slightly pudgy boy with a Ravenclaw prefect's badge. He seemed rather cross about something. Around them, people were snickering.
Sherlock glanced around curiously as he entered the Slytherin common room. Older students brushed against him, and he memorised the scents instinctively, as his eyes picked up the tiniest details…
"Okay, listen up!" the prefect called. "This is the Slytherin common room."
"The girl's dormitories are down that corridor, and the boys are the corridor opposite. Boy boys, don't try and get into the girl's dorms, if you do you're in for a nasty surprise! Now if you need anything you can come to me, or my lovely girlfriend here…" he indicated a girl standing quite close to Sherlock. She waved back at him in a sickly fashion. By the time the prefect blew a kiss back, Sherlock had had enough.
"She's sleeping with the Quidditch captain," he announced to the room. The whole house went deathly quiet. Without another word, Sherlock stalked out to find his dormitory. It was the first door he reached, and labelled 'first-years'. His trunk was already next to a bed, and he rummaged inside for pyjamas. After a while, the door creaked open, and the other four boys flooded in.
"A huge fight's broken out in the common room," Flint informed him in amazement. "How did you know?"
"She was wearing his deodorant," he sighed. "It was a simple deduction."
He climbed onto the four poster bed and drew the curtains shut, sincerely hoping that they wouldn't expect him to make conversation every night.