#gryffindor!john

“What are you hiding from me, John?”

“Can’t you guess?”

“I never guess! I’ll deduce it, just give me a second...”

Happy Birthday @hopelesslybenaddicted!

Another year, another Ravenclaw!Sherlock ♥ (I may also have been inspired after binging on @alexxphoenix42‘s potterlock fluff this week!) ~ Glitterati version below the cut *^_^*

MYCROFT: My brother has the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, yet he elects to be a detective. What might we deduce about his heart? JOHN: I don’t know. MYCROFT: Neither do I ... but initially he wanted to be a pirate. (x)

Sherlock is a Hermione case. John is also, obviously, a Gryffindor.

A Harry Potter/Sherlock crossover

Summary: Slytherin!Sherlock and Gryffindor!John didn't know they both went to Hogwarts until sometime after they moved into 221B Baker Street. The Marauders were 2 years above John, Sherlock was the year above John. (small references to a later story)

Hogwarts was a large place and Sherlock didn’t mingle with other houses, let alone years. In fact he barely socialised amongst other Slytherins. So he never noticed John Watson (or Bond if you knew him before he fell into a cover) his later flatmate, a half-blood wizard in Gryffindor at all. Sure he noticed that band of idiots in the year above. He had even deduced that three of the five, though very few new of there being five, were related in some way and that they weren’t human. But that’s another story.

Sherlock had spent all of his 7 years at Hogwarts being completely bored, as was his brother who was 3 years older than him (although he hid it better than Sherlock). Mycroft, his Ravenclaw brother, had gone on to take a job in the muggle government of Britain. Sherlock had also decided to go into the muggle world for employment, as had John but he didn’t know this. He had become a Consulting Detective, the only one in the world, his primary focus was on the muggle side of things he did get some wizard cases as well.

He had gained knowledge of the muggle world and with this knowledge decided to rent a flat in muggle London.  However he needed a flat share with someone to be able to get it without Mummy’s help, or Mycroft’s.

He told has ‘friend’ Mike as such the morning of one boring day.

John Watson was too focused on his school work, being a half-blood raised in the muggle world he had never seen anything like his studies before, so he never really got time to fit in with other Gryffindor’s, let alone outside of his house. He did however become fast friends with a group of Gryffindor’s that called themselves ‘the Marauders’, they were 2 years older than him. This didn’t stop them from helping him with his homework, well Remus and David helped him the other 3 just messed around.

When he graduated he decided to join the muggle army and he went off to Afghanistan to fight on the front line. He came home after being shot in the shoulder. Now he had a limp and serious psychological issues. He had had his wand removed from his care until he got over it. His mother hadn’t thought he had a gun so she didn’t take that. That day, after a visit to his psychiatrist, he was very close to shooting himself with that gun. A blog, his psychiatrist had told him to write one, was the last thing on his mind. He really needed to get a flat, and an army pension wasn’t going to pay for one, nor were his Galleons that he had got from the Marauders after school. Harry had said she would help him, but he had refused he needed to do this himself.

Later on that same day, John was walking through the park when he was shouted.

“John?” Mike had said. Mike had been a friend of his in college before he joined the military.  “John is that you?”

“It’s me,” John said, holding his hand out and looking confused.

“Mike,” Mike said. “Mike Stanford.” He took John’s hand.

“Oh, right,” John said.

“Last I heard you were overseas getting shot at,” Mike said. “What happened?”

“I got shot,” John stated gesturing with his cane.

The two sat and caught up for a short time before the topic of housing came up. “I don’t know Mike, who’d want to share a flat with me?”

“That’s funny, you’re the second person to say that to me today,” Mike said.

Still Later that day, Mike introduced John and Sherlock at St. Bart’s. Somehow Sherlock knew everything about John, bar one small detail. Excluding the fact he was a wizard, as not even Sherlock would be able to guess that.

After a while John decided to correct that detail, “Harry’s short for Harriet.” John never told Sherlock of his actual history, well until he did...

After his mother, not his real one she was dead, had found out about his change in psychological standing, she gave him back his wand. With the return of his wand he decided he could embrace his wizarding life again. Sherlock was shocked when John came down the stairs in a Gryffindor scarf. It was even more of a shock for John to see Sherlock wearing a Slytherin scarf.

“Who would’ve thought that,” John said.

“Indeed,” Sherlock said. “Year below me I believe…” Sherlock had gone on to muse about many other things before coming back and saying. “I would’ve thought you’d be a Hufflepuff…”

“Yes well I would’ve thought you were a Ravenclaw...” John had countered.

“The sorting hat had said the same thing until he found something, or rather couldn’t find something, in my head that he thought a Ravenclaw would know.”

“Oh, what’s that?” John said.

“The Solar System,” Sherlock said. “And Mycroft was in Ravenclaw.”

“Wait,” John said, ignoring Sherlock’s attempted subject change. “You actually don’t know about the Solar System?”

“No, John,” Sherlock replied. “I find the information unnecessary, useless.”

“But its Primary School stuff!” John countered.

“There are no Primary Schools in the Wizarding world John,” Sherlock said.

“What…?” John said. “Oh right, you must be pure blood… My Dad was confused about the concept of Primary School.”

Sherlock’s sorting

William Sherlock Scott Holmes stood in front of the teachers table in the Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry waiting with the other first years for his name to be called. He briefly turned to the Ravenclaw table and caught sight of his brother. The smallest trace of a smile crossed Mycroft’s face as he nodded at the 11 year old. As the boy turned back to the front he smirked. Mycroft was expecting him to be put in Ravenclaw, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Holmes, William.” This was it, he was going to spite Mycroft once and for all! He was going to avenge Redbeard!

Sherlock approached the three legged stool and sat down. The Sorting hat was placed on his head.

So young Mr Holmes, quite the Ravenclaw aren’t you?

‘No,’ Sherlock thought. ‘That’s my brother.’ The word brother was spat by the boy’s inner voice.

Well, we’ll have to see about that, quite a Slytherin as well aren’t you. I see you would so anything to achieve your means, am I right? But you are very intelligent, more so than your brother in some respects my dear boy. But what’s this?

Sherlock grinned from under the hat, he knew what was coming next! Mycroft was going to be angry! The grin widened.

You don’t know of the solar system? Any Ravenclaw would know that! You best fit the house of “SLYTHERIN!” The hat shouted out loud.

Sherlock almost skipped to the green clad table, almost. He was more dignified than that though. Mycroft was glaring from the Ravenclaw table and Sherlock shot him a happy smirk. ‘Take that! For Redbeard!’ Sherlock thought.

John’s sorting

Johnathan Hamish Bond shuffled around amongst the other first years. There was nearly no one gone and John was very nervous, being a ‘B’ he would be close to first. He felt sorry for whoever came before him. They would be even more nervous than he was. That girl who was first was visibly shaking. “Bond, Johnathan.”

This was it! John told himself as he took a deep breath and stepped forward. On the outside he was perfectly calm, but on the inside he was panicking. He took a second deep breath to steel his nerves and settled down on the stool. The hat fell over his eyes and he held his breath.

Oh young Bond! I see such loyalty within you, and so much bravery.

John nodded slightly. ‘Thank you,’ John thought to the hat.

And manners! Very few Pure-bloods have the courage to thank me, let alone half-bloods. You my boy would do well in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, which do you feel you fit best?

John tilted his head ‘Why are you asking me?’

Well, now my boy, I think you deserve an opinion, don’t you?

‘Well, yes,’ John replied. ‘But I thought you were supposed to sort the students?’

Oh, I generally take into account the preference of the student.

‘Okay,’ John frowned. ‘I don’t mind which house I go into…’

Ah, I see, well, in that case your future lies with “GRYFFINDOR!”

The hat was removed from his head and John strode over to the cheering table in red and gold. He sat down next to a 3rd year boy with black hair and round glasses.

“Names James Potter,” The boy said sticking his hand out to John.

“Nice to meet you,” John replied, taking the hand. “I’m John Bond.”

“Well, John allow us to welcome you to Gryffindor house!” A boy with shaggy black hair across from them said. “I’m Sirius Black! This here is David, and Remus and that one over there is Peter. Hey Peter stop hiding behind Remus and say hello!” David and Remus each said hello to John when they were introduced but Peter was trying to hide behind Remus, unsuccessfully.

“Sometimes,” started James. “I wonder how you got into Gryffindor.” A cob hit the side of his head. “And then you do something like that!” The five laughed and John joined in.

James’ life

James Bond wasn’t at all jealous of his younger brother, John. James didn’t at all want to go to Hogwarts. He didn’t want to be a wizard.

Well okay he did, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t a wizard. He would never be a wizard. He would rather be a pirate! Being a pirate would be awesome. Much better than being a wizard.

Of course, he never managed to be either of them. Him and John were both well on their way to being secret agents now. If John hadn’t got his letter 2 years after their parents died the two of them would have been 100 percent inseparable. You wouldn’t have seen James without John, or John without James. If you did you could be sure the other wasn’t far behind.

However, when John was at school James could often be seen waving sticks around and waiting expectantly for something to happen, of course nothing did. He wasn’t born for magic.

When John graduated, he stayed with James in MI6 until he was 23. After that he decided he would leave. That was when he fell into his cover of John Watson and James pretended his brother had died on their last mission.

You would think that a big strong Gryffindor wouldn't be scared of anything. He was Captain of the Quidditch team. He had beaten vampires, monsters in the forbidden forest that he kept insisting they go into. But where was this Gryffindor? John was hanging onto the curtain of his bed, a wand in his hand, a strong flame coming from his pear wand, and he was shaking, pointing it. "Die! Why won't you die?" John shouted, holding on so tightly that his knuckles were starting to turn a pale white, the rest of his hand a red. The flame was barely controlled, and a small alarm was going off, which of course was what tipped off a certain Ravenclaw best friend.  "John?" Sherlock called out, looking around, it taking a little bit of a convincing for the portrait to let him in for the fifth time today. But he knew the password -actually he knew the password for next time too but not important- "John!" Sherlock entered his room, noticing how scared his best friend seemed to be. "John what is it...?" Clearly not seeing anything, he had no idea what his friend seemed to be afraid of. He wasn't even scared when a vampire had backed him up against the tree and was threatening his life. So what could he be scared of that was seemingly invisible. "T-That!" John squeaked out and Sherlock nearly chuckled. It was adorable how he squeaked that out. He was just so adorable when he did that. But was there something there? "Oh... This?" Sherlock said, leaning over.  "Sh-Sherlock don't...!" But it was too late he had already scooped up the little Daddy Long Legs into his hand, and it was a rather small one as well. Probably wasn't even full grown- either that or someone had been using it to practice spells on.  "It's alright John, they aren't even venomous. They don't have the glands for it." Sherlock chuckled, looking at it. "Harmless. Actually, did you know that they breathe through their-" "Kill it!" John pointed his wand at it, and Sherlock shook his head. 

"Honestly John. Enough with the fire before you light your eyebrows on fire again." Sherlock walked over to the window, putting it outside, and closing the window. "There. It's gone." Sherlock said and John finally came down. 

"They've been around 400 million years, and are completely harmless, and breathe through their feet- oh." John's arms were wrapped tight around him, and he hugged him back. "Shut up. I just wanted you to kill it." John mumbled and Sherlock chuckled, resting his head on John's.