If Sherlock went to Hogwarts (Fanfiction)

William Sherlock Scot Holmes

William looked out the biggest window in his large bedroom and gazed at the countryside. The birds were tweeting. The trees were swaying. The river was flowing. The wind was whistling softly and the sun was shining. But the look in William's magnificent grey, blue-green eyes were not that of happiness but of disappointment.

William was long and lanky yet somehow muscular, he was the young age of eleven yet inside felt that he was rather grown up due to his high intellect. He was sitting on the window sill and had the look of a young man who was waiting for something interesting to happen. Or rather, wishing it.

He hadn't bothered changing from his pajamas which were as dark as his curly mop of hair which hung lazily about his high cheekbones. His mother had always said he should go and cut it yet the thought had been lost as he hadn't been listening to her. He had had other things on his mind.

His eyes tore away from the green scene outside and looked about his room: At the model of the human brain on his bedside table, of the periodic table stuck on his wall and at the skull on his small mantelpiece above a miniature fireplace. A fire that already was blazing annoyingly merrily even though it was still early hours- one of the maids must have made it.

Then he looked at the mound of red- brown that lay on his bed. It moved up and down as it inhaled and exhaled gently. He hadn't wanted to wake up Redbeard so had been careful not to collide his long legs with his beloved dog which meant he had to be careful how he slept and as William had trouble doing this he hadn't slept much yet he felt it was well worth Redbeard's comfort.

As the sun moved steadily west its light shined through the gap in the curtains, making Redbeard's coat shine like copper coins as he stirred peacefully. William hopped off his perch and came to run his slender fingers through Redbeard's glossy hair. The dog's face nuzzled William's and let out a yawn in his ear that William interpreted as, "Morning Sherlock." Sherlock was one of his middle names and he had always preferred it to his rather common first name. In his head Redbeard had called him Sherlock, unlike anyone else.

Sherlock remembered then when Redbeard had been a puppy. Sherlock had thought him irrelevant and unimportant and thought Redbeard irritating when he would constantly whine at night while he had been trapped in the living room. Sherlock opened the living room door one night so whatever the small creature wanted to accomplish would happen soon a cease the whining. Redbeard had followed Sherlock to his room and didn't make a noise the entire night.

It was only then did Sherlock release that the animal was merely lonely and that perhaps animals- or at least this one- could be more human than humans themselves.

It is not needed to say therefor that Sherlock and Redbeard developed a neutral understanding of love yet Sherlock never used the word, much less to admit to it.

A knock came from the door and Sherlock knew it was Mycroft, his older brother, because Mycroft had been irritating enough only to give a single knock, for some reason making Sherlock want to punch him in the face. Redbeard gave a high whimper- he had always been afraid of Mycroft.

"William can I come in?" Mycroft's voice was slightly muffled by the door.

"You could." Sherlock sniggered to himself.

"Yet you don't want me to?"

"No." And as he said it he smiled down at Redbeard who in his mind returned the gesture.

"You're so childish." Mycroft sighed and as he did Sherlock couldn't help thinking that the reason why he acted like a child was because he was one yet he did not voice this as it may prove Mycroft's point. To Mycroft childishness and other informal emotions were considered weakness. And Sherlock would not present himself as being weak. Especially not to Mycroft. "Breakfast is ready."

"I'm not hungry." And it was true, Sherlock hardly ever ate, it seemed to slow down his thinking and in the puzzle that was his world and the people lived this would not do at all.

"Your dog might be." Mycroft always knew what got Sherlock. His weak spots. And since he had found out that Sherlock did not only think of Redbeard as an animal but as a friend this particular pressure point had been used most frequently.

Sherlock heard Redbeard's tummy rumble and sighed as he heard Mycroft turn to leave. There was no point for him to stay now that he knew he had won. Sherlock could not deny Redbeard breakfast yet could not leave him to venture by himself. The mere suggestion was incomprehensible – Redbeard and he went everywhere together.

At breakfast Mycroft sneered at Sherlock as he fed his dog. These were one of the times where Sherlock took to ponder just how much he hated Mycroft. Mycroft had turned eighteen long ago yet still lived in the family house. Sherlock thought he must be doing this precisely to annoy him.

He had left his boarding school and had decided to work there which was good as Sherlock didn't get to see him for months on end yet Mycroft was persistent in coming home every term meaning playing with Redbeard had to be done in secret and that Mycroft would return to his on-going aim in making Sherlock's life as miserable as possible.

After Redbeard had finished his Breakfast Sherlock took him for a walk. Unlike Sherlock Redbeard seemed to like the countryside and was a good excuse for Sherlock to go for long periods of time away from Mycroft and by the time they had got back it was already dark and dinner time.

At dinner time and indeed other meals of the day conversation was limited. Mycroft and their parents would refuse to talk about Mycroft's line of work as it was apparently 'top secret' yet Sherlock knew enough to keep him far from curious: Judging by the time it took for Mycroft to leave Kings cross station the school could only be in Scotland, Sherlock had discovered on the internet the narrow scale of boarding schools deducted what he was looking for by the weather stains ( though it was faint by the sun's ray or splatted by rain ) on the letters Mycroft frequently sent home. Yet what was so secret about Oakmoor school for Boys, Sherlock didn't know. And indeed would never know.

(A/N: Sorry I tried to post this in 'Open dyslexia font' but Wattpad wouldn't let me so if you're dyslexic like me I'm sorry but if you haven't downloaded it for free on the internet then go do it now because it's great for editing stories on word. Also I used Redbeard as not only for cute points but coz I wanted Redbeard to represent how Sherlock feels inside. And yes I changed the reference to calling him from William to Sherlock on purpose so no one point that out in the comments! I'll post every week, maybe tomorrow even because it's all in my notebook I just need to type it up. Thanks for reading. If you would like to comment of even vote please do because I love to hear from you beautiful people. Have a lovely day and goodbye for now

Phoebe x)