A/N: Hello! Sorry it's taking so long to upload, school is gruelling :P

Anyhow, hope you enjoy the chapter! Thanks for the support :D

"Holmes, Sherlock!"

Sherlock dared a quick glance at John, who gave him a small smile, before stepping forward and walking towards the small man holding the old tattered hat.

He sat on the small wooden stool, which was in front of the entire school, and waited for the hat. Darkness closed around him as the hat covered his eyes, and a voice said, "Hmm, what an interesting mind."

Sherlock smirked, but the hat couldn't tell.

"Oh yes, very intelligent, very intelligent indeed, like I've never seen… Brains for Ravenclaw, but such ambition and so cunning, yes, and a pureblood… A good candidate for Slytherin house too… Yes, they'd like you…"

The hat took a few more minutes of pondering. People around them must have been wondering what was happening.

"Have you made up your mind yet?" Sherlock thought at the hat, annoyed at the unnecessary wait.

"Oh, so difficult, so many ways this could go…"

"Ravenclaw or Slytherin, yes, such a difficult decision, effectively affecting my entire future, I realize. But this is taking a very prolonged time and as the one who's future is at hand, do I not get a word in this decision?"

"Oh, yes. I suppose you do, what do you say then?"

"Ravenclaw or Slytherin? I hardly care what house I'm placed in. Either way it will be just as dull, and both houses will be just as self-loving and unpleasant as the other, just curious. Even so, this is really becoming ridiculous, so make up your mind quickly."

"Oh yes, I see, a bit sardonic too, are we? Well then, it will have to be…"

"SLYTHERIN!" the hat roared.

It was removed from his head and a great applause burst from the Slytherin side of the great hall. He sauntered to the Slytherin table and sat next to his brother, a seventh year prefect.

"Well done little brother, dear, come to join me then? That did take some time for that old hat to decide."

"Oh shut up, Mycroft."

"Watson, John!"

Sherlock watched him as he walked to be sorted. He walked confidently, but Sherlock could see his nervousness and John knew it. He sat down and he was enveloped in darkness. A voice spoke out, it sounded like it was distant, but in his head, like a thought, "Oh, yes, very curious."

This startled John a bit, not exactly what he was expecting, but he already knew the hat could talk from its merry Hogwarts song earlier, but he felt somehow violated, with it in his head, him mind.

"Hm, another difficult one. Intelligent, loyal, oh and, yes, brave… Loyalty is very important don't you think? But, no, that's not for you… Oh, brains, but not quite right for Ravenclaw… Guess it will have to be…"


The Gryffindor table erupted into applause, and John nearly fell as he stumbled to his house, looking and feeling a bit dazed.


Sherlock groaned. John was not only, not in the same house as him, but also in the opposing house. Mycroft gave him a quizzical look, but Sherlock ignored him.

The Headmistress gave a speech about unity or something equally as dull and repetitive. She finally stopped with a last, "Enjoy the feast!"

Everyone began to dig in. Mycroft placed a cloth on his lap and ate like an absolute prince, the prat. Sherlock begrudgingly put a beef sandwich on his plate, and nibbled along the bread's edge, so that Mycroft would not nag him about his eating habits. Sherlock tried not to look at John, but he couldn't help himself. He quickly glanced up to the Gryffindor table, to see John laughing with another first year. He felt a pang in his stomach, not from hunger, but ignored it, and looked away, into the distance, thinking and pursing his lips into a thin line.

When the feast had finally ended, Mycroft and another female seventh year lead all the Slytherins to the common room. It was underground, in the dungeons, dim and all the shadows had a green tint, from the lake above, only separated by glass and what Sherlock suspected were several strengthening and protective charms, as to not fall in on them. It was all right, as far as common rooms went. He did not complain. Mycroft kept giving him concerned glances. Sherlock really wished he'd stop doing that.

9 o'clock finally rolled around and all the first years were ordered to bed. Sherlock was assigned to a room of five. He quickly deduced all of his room mates them.

First one: divorced parents, half-blood, and anger management issues, all brute no brains.

Second: closet gay.

Third: a rich, arrogant, dim-witted, proud pureblood, self-loving bastard.

Fourth: nervous to be in Slytherin, muggle-born, quiet, average intelligence, slow to make friends.

This would be just fantastic. Sherlock smirked, and without introducing himself to anyone, lay in bed and closed all the curtains. He did not sleep.

The next morning Sherlock dressed quickly in his robes, before any of the other boys, but did not go down to breakfast. Instead he sat in the common rooms, alone, thinking. He wondered what John was doing. Probably laughing with the other Gryffindor first years. He pursed his lips, not pleased at the thought.

He left the common room at the latest time he possibly could without missing class. He collected his schedule, first period, potions with Gryffindor. Perhaps he was with John. A small, involuntary smile played on his lips.

Sherlock entered the classroom, so far empty besides the teacher in at the front. He sat near the back. Students began to pour in. He ignored all of them. Dull, no one remotely interesting. He let his face form into its usual look of annoyance and an intense glare. He sat alone.

John rushed down to the dungeons, desperate not to be late to his first class. He just made it in time so that the teacher would have no reason to get him in trouble, but Professor Snape was annoyed nonetheless. He pointed him to the only seat left, next to a lanky, dark figure, with a severe look of distaste. Sherlock.

John gathered his things and sat next to him. Sherlock glanced up, clearly about to say something insolent but at seeing it was John, he stopped and contorted his face into what one might call a sly smile.

"Hello, John."

"Sherlock," he nodded. He already could tell this would be an eventful class. He was not disappointed.

Professor Snape was a bit intimidating, but despite John's almost tardiness, seemed to leave John alone. It was definitely better than what other got. He was a very strict teacher, but John was, to his surprise pretty good at potions so was left to continue without criticism. Sherlock on the other hand was, brilliant, of course. He managed to make a perfect potion on the first try, and he probably would have gotten full marks too, if he hadn't experimented on it by adding several drops of sulfuric acid, where he got it from John had no idea. Sherlock ended up blowing up the class. Thankfully, no one was hurt, a few people who were closest to the bang had grown an extra ear, and many were irritated, even Sherlock, but that was mostly due to his failed experiment. John thought it was hilarious, but Snape was not amused. He did not deduce any points from Slytherin though, the biased bastard. John didn't really care much though.

John's next class was Herbology with Hufflepuff. He eventually found his way to the correct green house and was greeted kindly by Professor Sprout. It was interesting, but really, how interesting could plants get, magical or not? It felt uneventful after that morning, and he found himself wondering where Sherlock was.

After a grueling first lesson of divination, which in Sherlock's opinion was one of the stupidest things he had been forced to witness, it was time for lunch in the great hall. He would of normally skipped lunch, he didn't need food, or at least he didn't think he did, it was a waste of time, but he wanted to see John again, though he didn't like to admit very much.

He did not want to sit with the rest of the Slytherins. They were all ambition, no brains, as well as all arrogant prats. Sherlock knew he also was not the humblest, kindest of people, but he couldn't bear people who thought themselves the best, when they were just morons with rich, pureblood parents. At least Sherlock was they way he was because of his intellect, not his ancestry.

He kind of wished he'd chosen Ravenclaw, not very much, but at least their common room was filled with books, and most people were decently intelligent. Though, the books were filled with things he already knew and hardly card about, what he really wanted to know about was muggles, and their muggle inventions. Science, something that muggles used, interested him; he needed to know more, but was never aloud to do so at home. His curiosity in muggles was part of the reason he wanted to see John so badly, but only a small part.

John entered the great hall; Mike chatting his ear off, ranting about some wizard thing John pretended he understood. He wasn't listening, not really. He caught himself looking around and realized he was searching for a particular tall, pale, dark haired boy. Where was Sherlock?

He couldn't see him anywhere, scanning over all the Slytherins. He sighed and sat at the Gryffindor table with Mike, who had stopped talking, giving John a strange look.

"Looking for someone?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"I- uh, no," John spluttered.

"Yeah okay, whatever."

Suddenly, the empty long tables were filled with food and plates. John was starting to really like magic. He, along with the rest of the Gryffindors, began to eat, piling their plates high with sandwiches and potatoes and sausages, accompanied by a small plate of treacle tart. Then John heard some one clear their throat behind him. He turned, but was surprised to see Sherlock. John couldn't stop himself before his face broke into a goofy grin.

"Hi Sherlock."

"Uh, yes, hello," he paused, "As you know I'm not the best in social situations, so I don't know if it's considered appropriate to ask, if perhaps I could sit here instead? Frankly, I'm finding the all the other Slytherins to be moronic and infuriating." A boy across from John murmured in agreement, but Sherlock ignored him.


"Of course if you don't wish me to…" he started uncomfortably.

"Oh no! That's not it at all. It's just, I don't actually know if people are allowed to sit at other houses' tables…" John turned back to Mike and the other Gryffindors, but they all just shrugged. Apparently no one knew. "Well, I suppose it's okay." He scooted down the bench a bit and patted the space next to him.

Sherlock cautiously sat down, clearly uncomfortable sitting with the other Gryffindors. John continued his meal, as did the students around him, but Sherlock just continued to sit very straight and still, not touching anything, looking into the distance.

"Sherlock, aren't you going to eat anything?" John asked him.

"What? No, it slows me down. I have no need for food."

"That's contradictory, you need energy. When's the last time you ate?"

"What day is it, again?"


"I'll be fine for another day," he said dismissively.

"Another day? Sherlock, you have to eat!" John exclaimed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but begrudgingly accepted the plate of bread and cheese that John forced in front of him, and began to nibble.

A few minutes later, which Sherlock had stayed silent during, something that John was not used to him being, Sherlock said, "That boy's just stolen from Professor Snape." He almost said it to himself, but then realized that John had heard.

John followed Sherlock's eyes, onto a teenage Slytherin boy.

"What? How could you possibly know that?" John said doubtfully.

Sherlock groaned as if it was painfully obvious how he could see. A small Gryffindor girl sat across from them asked, "Did you see him do it?" and then half the people at the table, who were near them, were listening.

"No I did not see him in the act of stealing the boomslang skin, in person, but I know."

"How? You can't know unless you saw him," accused another.

Sherlock sighed again, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he then launched into explanation, "I did not have to see him steal it, because I can clearly tell from just looking at him. Look, he appears smug, as well as some of his friends, mostly him though. He's accomplished something, but not something he's willing to share with everyone, but impressive enough to be proud. Obviously it has to be something against the rules, otherwise it wouldn't be kept and he's a Slytherin, who have the best, or worse, depending on how you see it, reputation when it comes to trouble. He is still nervous, so it's just happened. Lunch is always a good opportune to make trouble with less chance of being caught. Also, see how he keeps uneasily glancing to the teachers' table? He still is worried about being caught, but more than that, he's done something to one of the teachers. Professor Snape. He's the only one who's really got anything worth stealing, restricted ingredients, and if he did find out, he'd let them off easier because he is their head of house and would want to take to many points off of his own house, so less of a risk for the amateurs, which he clearly is, being a 3rd year, and an idiot. He's got flakes on his robes too, and not from any food. Look at the coloring and texture of the flakes, obviously boomslang skin, which would be something valuable to steal from Professor Snape's personal potions cupboard," He finished simply. The others gaped. "It's hardly a difficult deduction, child's play."

John was at a loss for words, as well as everyone else who'd been listening.

"How can you do that?" he asked amazed.

"John, I'm simply observing, nothing more," Sherlock shrugged.

"That's- that's amazing!" John said, practically beaming.

"You think?" Sherlock said, suppressing a smile. It was rare that anyone appreciated his deductions.

"Of course it was!"

Sherlock had been quelling his observations so far for John's sake, which he would never normally do, for anyone, and he was finding it difficult, but he was a bit afraid it would scare him off, so he did. He was definitely not expecting this reaction at all, but he liked it. From now on he would not be repressing any of his thoughts. He smiled to himself. This would get very interesting very fast.

A/N: SHAZAM! There you go, the second chapter! Hope you didn't think Sherlock was out of character. Of course our Sherlock would never repress his observations for someone else, but I think this version might. He's still young and more open to the idea of friends, he wants to be liked, just like any other kid, he's just still a bit social inept. He's began to give up, but John might just yet change that. The regular Sherlock we know I think gave up a long time ago when he was young, but this is before that. SO HOPE IT WAS ENJOYABLE.

Please review and all that awesome stuff! :)

And I'm sorry (not really) but I just need Sherlock to sass the hat. Just seems so Sherlocky. :P