Harry Potter, Sherlock 1. At King's Cross Station

**A/N: Sorry this is only 600 words. I'll make the next chapter longer!**

Young Sherlock Watson shuffled his feet dolefully, a used trunk and his brother John at his side, silently waiting for the Hogwarts Express at Platform 9 3/4, King's Cross Station. He was surrounded by a flurry of middle-grade children socializing and saying teary goodbyes to their parents. He felt very alone. Suddenly, the large red clock mounted on the wall across from him ticked loudly and an old-fashioned steam engine appeared out of nowhere on the tracks. The mass of teenagers and scared-looking first years fought their way into the train until only a few parents, forgotten pet frogs, and packets of potion ingredients remained on the platform. Sherlock lowered his head and slowly trudged back away from the tracks as the clock chimed 9:00 and the Hogwarts Express shot away into the English countryside, with John Watson on it. Sherlock slipped back through the magical barrier and met up with his parents, the Watsons.

The drive back to Sherlock's home in Little Whinging, Surrey, was quiet. Sherlock had put on his favorite black trench coat and was playing with one of the buttons on it. He twisted it back and forth, back and forth, until finally the ferocity with which he was twisting was too much for the button and it popped off his coat with a ripping sound.

"Figures," the eleven year-old muttered to himself.

"What was that, Sherlock?" his mother said, turning around in her seat of the car to look at him.

"'That'? It's a word in the dictionary, Mum. Comes after 'thanks'."

"Sherlock!"

"Well, what am I supposed to say?"

"You're supposed... to be happy for John, not moaning and groaning like you are!" cried Mrs. Watson crossly.

"I don't care!" Sherlock replied, and dug his face into his ripped coat for the rest of the ride. It took a strong tug on his arm for Sherlock's father to get his son up when they pulled into their driveway. Sherlock walked quickly into the house, not looking back, with his head held stiffly high but one tear dripping down his face.

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><p>Sherlock entered the room that he had used to share with John. He gazed at the blank walls that were once plastered with posters of football teams and reached for his picture of the periodic table that John had never let him hang. He got a piece of tape and stabbed the picture onto the wall with all of his might. It fell to the floor.<p>

_What's so special about John? Why couldn't I go too?_ he thought to himself.

He snatched the poster off the cold hard-wooded floor and ripped it in two.

_I bet there's no such thing as magic. There can't be._

He ripped it again, this time with more force.

_I can tell anything about anyone. Everyone says so. They say I'm the smartest kid in Britain._

He shredded the paper with his lean, nimble fingers but gasped in pain and started nursing a paper cut.

_But he goes to a magic school and not me? What's wrong with me, then?_

He fell backwards onto his bed and curled into a ball. _I know what's wrong with me. I'm not one of them. Who knows where my real parents are? I can't go to Hogwarts because nobody wants me but John and Mum and Dad. Now one of them is gone. And he'll never want to come back._


	2. On the Train

**A/N: Chapter two. Here we go!**

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><p>John grabbed his trunk, making sure that his wand was still safely stowed in his trouser pocket. It was amazing to have a wand, a <em>real magic wand<em>, that he could do _anything_ with! He could make ice cream whenever he wanted it, and win all his football games, and...and...make the mean kids at school leave Sherlock alone!

Sherlock, he remembered. He leaned out the door of the rapidly accelerating train and waved goodbye before the Hogwarts Express sped away.

It was just amazing, going to Diagon Alley, seeing that woman carrying dragon scales in her cart like it was the natural-ist thing. He had stepped into Ollivander's, and been in awe of the shelves and shelves _completely_ full of wands. Mr. Ollivander had been muttering incoherently, like he was in a trance...it was a bit frightening, actually... but then John tried the right wand, and it had shot green sparks without him doing anything at all! _Willow, 10 1/2 inches, with a dragon heartstring core,_ Mr. Ollivander had said. It sounded perfect.

John turned around, facing the inside of the train, where he could hear hundreds of teenagers laughing and talking. He walked cautiously up the aisle, trying to find a compartment. The first one he walked into held two older boys. John opened his mouth to speak nervously.

"Is this seat tak─" he said.

"Get out of here, first year!" they barked.

"Sorry?" he answered, backing out of the compartment as the teenagers went back to playing Exploding Snap─yet another new wizard's game that he had learned about in Diagon Alley. He had bought his first Exploding Snap deck at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and played a few hands with Sherlock on the car ride to London. He hoped no one would notice his missing eyebrows.

John stepped towards the next compartment. He let out a deep breath, seeing that it was empty. He slid open the glass door and placed his trunk on the floor, stretching and yawning loudly.

"OUCH!" someone cried.

"Agghhh!" screamed John, scared. "What was that?!"

"By _that_ do you mean _me_?" said the voice, as a small boy's body appeared in front of him, rubbing his foot mournfully. "I'm Albus."

"Hi!" said John brightly, now that he had gotten over his shock. He closed the glass door. "Well...what's your... full name?"

"Do I have to?" said Albus. "It's not exactly fair for you to walk in here, drop a trunk on my foot, and then demand to know my name."

"Oh, I'm sorry," said John anxiously.

"Nah, it's okay. I'm Albus Severus Potter."

"Merlin! Really?! Your dad? He's the coolest..the awesomest...wow!"

"See, _that_ was why I didn't want to say it," grumbled Albus.

"It's okay, I won't tell anyone," John reassured him. "So..what was that? The disappearing─I mean, appearing thing? Is that _normal_ for wizards?!" he asked, incredulously. He raised his eyebrows, doubtful that his newfound friend was in any way normal. Not that John minded, or anything; he knew what 'not normal' felt like, after being _Sherlock Watson_'s brother. _Sherlock_... John felt another brief pang of homesickness, but it quickly disappeared.

"All right. You know, I wouldn't tell anyone...but, you know, since you're pretty cool..." Albus teased him, dragging out the words as slowly as he could.

"Tell me!" yelled John excitedly.

"I have an Invisibility Cloak!"

"Blimey, Albus," said John seriously. "I didn't know those were real. There was something about one in my school books, but I─"

"Oh no. You're not a teacher's pet, are you?! I hate that," said Albus, cross.

"No. Just excited, I guess."

"Well, I got mine from my dad. Bet you didn't know he had an Cloak of Invisibility when he was at Hogwarts?" Albus said curiously. John shook his head.

"So can I try it?"

"Umm...well...Dad said not to use it too much, but...after what _he_ did..."

John laughed.

"All right," said Albus. the two of them spread out the cloak on Albus's lap and lifted it over their heads. John looked down at his feet excitedly, expectantly.

"They're gone!─my feet, I mean."

"I know," said Albus, grinning broadly. "Mine too."

Suddenly John heard footsteps from the corridor.

"Get it off!" he whispered urgently. He and Albus quickly balled the cloak up and shoved it behind Albus. The silvery cloth, shimmering with rainbow colors, was concealed behind his Muggle jacket just in time, as the train's cart lady appeared by their compartment door a moment later.

"Some sweets, dear?" she inquired. "There's pumpkin pasties, lollies, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum..."

She widened her eyes, waiting for an answer.

"Oh, we're fine," said John. "In fact, we'd best be getting our robes on now..."

"We what?!" cried Albus. "Is your brain rotted?! Of course we want some!"

He pulled out a small brown money purse in his pocket.

"One of everything, please."

The cart lady gaped.

"I can't take any," said John politely, as she rolled onward, having given them their sweets. He only had a few Galleons for the whole year, and wanted to spend them wisely. The Watsons weren't exactly rich. John couldn't blow all his new wizard money on sweets, but he was too proud to accept anything from the obviously wealthy yet nice boy named Albus.

"Oh, shut up," said Albus, and slid over the towering pile of food. "Hurry, now, I want to try some spells before we have to get changed. Don't you?"

"Anything!" said John happily. "I can't wait to get there!"

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><p><strong>AN: And... scene.**

**So─that was chapter two! Thoughts? I know its been awhile, but I hope this chapter was satisfactory. It looks like I'll be alternating between Sherlock (angsty fail writing for now) and John (happy fun days─_oh wait, I'm missing my best friend and brother, Sherlock_). Unless─UNLESS─something really important happens and I need to have two of the same POV in a row. But that probably won't happen. :)**

**You're going to review...and favorite...and follow...right? I said, RIGHT? *threatens pathetically with fists* No, I won't force you, (*sighs*) but if you do, I'll be your best friend and give you cookies! Yay!**

**-Love from, Myc**


	3. Letters from Home

**A/N: A series of letters from _Sherlock to John_. Not all letters sent are shown, for space reasons...**

**Enjoy! Review please! Constructive criticism, praise, suggestions: I like it all!**

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><p>Dear John,<p>

This is the first day I'm writing you. Before I couldn't stand it and I tried to forget you but I couldn't. It feels so surreal I can't even explain, not having you here. I just realized that you've gone off to be a wizard and you're not coming back.

[I hope this gets to you all right, we put it in the post with three air-travel stamps just in case.]

Why did you go? Why did you get the letter and not me? Why did you leave me?

When are you coming back?

─Sherlock

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><p>Dear John,<p>

I went to school today. Mother had been trying to make me go to school for a week but I said no. Finally I went because I couldn't stand to be in our room all day long without you there too. Remember when we pretended to have the flu so that we could skip? We ran around to get our foreheads hot and lay in bed like we were sick. Mother didn't believe us then, but now she has let me stay home even though my forehead's cool, because she knows it's real this time.

Now I'm sitting here on the bed, but I'm on the bottom bunk. Mother took off the top bunk of the bed today because she said we wouldn't need it anymore, and I'd have more space. Now I have to sleep on the bottom bunk where you used to. The only one I talk to is Demosthenes, the skull on the bookshelf. I'm lonely.

Dad finally stopped putting out a plate at your spot at the table at night. He had been for a week and now it's just the three of us, eating pork chops and asparagus. I never touch my plate and he doesn't say a word about it.

It's like they're trying to forget about you.

Come back, John.

─Sherlock

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><p>Dear John,<p>

What do you even do there?

Transfiguration? That's impossible. Matter is never created or destroyed. There would be lots of missing matter if you suddenly made an elephant into a mouse. Where does it all go? ...Charms? You can't make things fly. I was looking at your textbook before you left and it said 'Wingardium Leviosa' made things fly. Well to fly you need an engine and lots of fuel, not some stupid little stick of wood!

It seems so impossible that you're going off to a castle to learn magic things. When we went to Diagon Alley I was so excited to see the wand shop, and the apothecary, and the big wizard bank. But it's all so far away now it feels like a dream.

If your wand is so great, then why can't you use it to bring me to Hogwarts with you?

─Sherlock

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><p>Dear John,<p>

I've written and I've written but you don't reply. Why not? Am I not good enough for you anymore? Did you find some other friend that you like more than me? If you'd only come back I'd stop doing experiments for a month. I mean it! Please?

I had a dream last night that I could do magic too. We were both at school and learning things and being together. But then someone kicked me aside and everything disappeared. I was back here in my bedroom. It was years later and you had never come back.

Why didn't you, John?

─Sherlock

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><p>Dear John,<p>

I hope you like your dumb magic school. Today at school I got beat up by the Crowley brothers. I got a sprained wrist and my head hurts. We're going to the doctor tomorrow. Didn't you used to want to be a doctor someday?

Hope you're having fun leaving me with those kids for a year.

─Sherlock

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><p>Dear John,<p>

In Latin we had to say three sentences about our best friend. I talked about Demosthenes.

Everybody laughed. I cried.

Please please please write me back?

─Sherlock

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><p>John:<p>

I give up. I've tried, and tried, and you never answered me. I've written thirty letters and you never responded. I guess you don't care about your family at all. You know, every week I used to write a fake letter from you to give to Mother and Dad. So they wouldn't worry. But I won't do that anymore. They should know that their son isn't the nice little wizard he says he is.

Goodbye, brother. I hope you have lots of friends up in the castle of yours. After what you've done to me, I'm certainly no longer one of them.

─Sherlock


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Harry Potter, Sherlock, Friendship, Hurt-Comfort