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Deductive Reasoning >> Marauders Era!Sirius Black X Reader

Title: Deductive Reasoning

Paring: Marauders Era!Sirius Black X Reader

Warnings: deduction, fluff, cute

Spoilers: slightly, but no. They're for Sherlock Series 4, which I still haven't seen. Had to go and spoiler myself on Wikipedia, didn't I? 

Requested By: Ravjal 

Author's Note: This was a request for "...little Sherlock crossover the reader is in Gryffindor and has the same abilities as Sherlock" I won't go on since the prompt is the whole fic, but that's what this fic is about. *Professor Quirrel voice*: Thought you ought to know

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The main reason people did not like you was that you were an asshole. There was no denying the truth; you weren't very nice sometimes. Maybe it was because you had a way of seeing people and places and things for exactly what they were. The other reason people didn't like you was that you were Muggle-Born, and back in primary school you'd made Marjory Mallory's hair turn blue after she told you that you were a freak. It was fair payment, though, because you'd just told her that her mother was cheating on her father with the headmaster's assistant.

It was these reasons that you had little to no friends. By little, you really meant the only other pests to the order and grand scheme of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry – four Marauders, and a red-headed Gryffindor Head Girl. James, Peter, Remus, Sirius, and Lily. While you were an asshole because of your tenacity and ability of rational reasoning, they were alienated by their will to be different; there was James and Sirius, brothers from separate mothers, Peter, plodding through life to get through another day, and Remus, suffering once a month with the disease he was forced to live out. Lily was a perfectly normal person, but like you, were Muggle-Born, and to the eyes of the supremacists, was therefore subpar.

But friendless or no, you had your fellow Gryffindor associates, and whenever there was a lack in homework (you often finished it before deadline, or even before class ended), you would help the gang of friends with as much mischief as they could manage. Of course, the transfiguration professor, Professor McGonagall was not a fan of your posse losing house points to turn the enchanted ceiling in the great hall into rain clouds (last October) and the incident of the slippery staircase in the Astronomy Tower (last April). Was it worth it? Yes. Mainly because your knowledge and dedication to your studies quickly regained all lost points.

"I was thinking of flooding the Slytherin dungeons..." James grinned, peering over his half-done homework for History of Magic. His glasses were covered in fingerprints, and you wondered how the boy could see out of them even with his terrible eyesight.

Lily coughed into her fist from across the common room, and catching on from his Charms practice, Remus shot a glare at his good friend James. "I don't suppose it's necessary, is it?" He asked him. "Unless it'll give you extra credits. You're going to fail Professor Binn's class, and he won't like that."

James laughed. "What'll he do to me, yell 'boo' at me?"

You glared at James. "No, he'll force you to repeat the grade again. Your lack of sleep to follow unauthorised extracurricular activities as of late have led to a lack of sleep, which has in turn, led to a lack of motivation and ability to perform in class," you tell him. "I advise you to sit down, shut up, do your homework, and go to sleep at a reasonable hour, and not taunt the late professor."

Sirius chuckled from his corner of the common room, but because you were spot on with every part of your observation, there were no more words shared on the subject, and indeed, James sat down, shut up and finished the four feet of parchment required by Professor Binns. Peter sat beside Remus, looking at notes from a Ravenclaw friend for his Herbology essay, but seemed to have trouble with the handwriting. A minute passed within the room in silence, including the students milling in and out from the Fat Lady to their beds upon the late hour. And then, another minute after that.