#acodnetwork

“Wh-what?” the blond stammers, turning slightly to face this new person but still refraining from fully gazing at Sherlock.

"I observed it. So many people don’t see what’s right in front of them.”

“What do you mean, you observed it? It’s … it’s not like I’m wearing a pin or anything.” The boy’s voice wavers at this thought, betraying just how nervous he is.

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about anyone else figuring it out unless you decide to tell them. Besides, a lot of the prejudices against squibs are unfounded, and if you weren’t qualified to attend Hogwarts you would never have gotten a letter.”

At that, John loses a bit of his tenseness. “That’s the same thing my mum said,” he murmured. “I don’t even know your name, and you already know so much about me. How?”

“Easy. First of all, you’re here alone, but you’re obviously accustomed to magic. When that fourth year set off the Mayhem Maker, you weren’t even startled, suggesting that you had seen one before. Familiar with wizard products, then, but also with magic in general I’d wager. Not enough that you grew up in a completely wizard household, mind, as you were still surprised to see some of the newer Explosive Enterprises products and you’ve likely only heard stories of this platform based on how you weren’t familiar with its layout. So, at least one member of your family is a wizard - a brother who’s significantly older, based on the style of that bag, which is clearly a hand-me-down that’s been kept for sentimental reasons because all of your other supplies are new. And he’s now estranged from your family, otherwise he would have brought you today. But why would you be so obviously nervous about a brother who’s a wizard? You wouldn’t. Your family pets are Kneazle hybrids, considering that you have hair from at least three different ones on your jumper. Of course, Squibs are known to breed these animals, but you didn’t bring one with you since you’re trying to distance yourself from that connection. Hence why you came alone - you didn’t want anyone to know that your mother is a Squib.” Sherlock takes a brief breath before continuing on. “The name’s Sherlock Holmes, by the way.”

John tries to act like he’s skeptical, but is in fact left in wonder at the panache of the boy beside him. “How’d you know it was my mum? Could have been my dad.”

“Nooope,” Sherlock says, popping the final consonant. “You were in a military school before your letter came.” Before John could ask, Sherlock explained. “Your trunk. Very obvious. It’s also got your name on it, J. Watson.”

“John,” the shorter boy provides.

“Mmm, yes. Well, John, military school was most likely something your muggle father insisted on, since your parents weren’t sure if you would have any magical talent like your brother.”

John just shakes his head and breathes out an “amazing.”

“It’s all about observing what’s right in front of you, something that most idiots have no idea how to do. Well, that, and I'm already an accomplished Legilimens and you’ve been thinking about your parents since you stepped onto the platform. I did get everything correct, yes?"

"Well, I do have an older sibling who hasn't talked to my parents in a few years because of the whole prejudice against Squibs thing. But it's not a brother. It's a sister."

"Damn! I figured the firecrackers would have been bought by a brother. Maybe I'm not that accomplished a Legilimen after all."

At that, John can’t help but laugh and finally looks up at Sherlock, captivated by the brilliance before him.

“Ah. Well. Um.” It was Sherlock’s turn to stammer after meeting the wonder in those eyes. “It seems, uh, that they’re boarding the train. Would you … would you care to share a compartment?”