What We're Born to Do: A SuperWholock AU

Chapter Four: Sherlock

“He was going to smash right into that barrier and then he’d be in trouble- leaning forward on his cart, he broke into a heavy run- the barrier was coming nearer and nearer- he wouldn’t be able to stop- the car was out of control- he was a foot away- he closed his eyes ready for the crash- It didn’t come… he kept on running… he opened his eyes. A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o’clock.”

(Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, page 95)

“John, honey, hurry up or we’re going to be late!”

His mother’s voice echoed through the hallways, and John looked up from the book he was reading. Shit. He’d forgotten what the date was!

“Just a few minutes!” he called back, hastily pulling out his trunk and shoving a pair of socks into it. His mother had told him that he should’ve packed earlier, why didn’t he listen? The checklist she’d told him to make was sitting on his desk thankfully, the words scrawled on it making a perfect timesaver.

Pants, sweaters, shirts, ties, shoes, socks, trousers, scarves, gloves, pajamas, anything and everything he could find that he might possibly need got shoved in there. The trunk was almost overflowing, and he still needed to put in his supplies.

Looking over his shoulder to make sure his mum was nowhere in sight, he pointed his wand at his clothes and whispered “Reducio.” The clothes inside shrunk slightly, leaving just enough room for his schoolbooks and anything else he’d want with him. He was grateful for the tiny amount of things he could get away with having a witch mother, since her magic disguised any small amounts he used. She didn’t need to know about it, of course. How he could clean his room in record time was to remain a mystery to her.

Once he figured he had everything, he looked over his school list one more time. Robes, check. Uniform, check. Muggle clothes for weekends, check. Wand, check. Books, check. Summer homework… John’s face paled. Now that he thought about it, he really shouldn’t have left some of that for the last minute. Oh well, if the whole business about the prefects meeting didn’t take too long, he always had the train ride. And if all else failed, well, who needed sleep on the first night anyway? He’d witnessed the older students frantically getting through whatever homework they hadn’t done the first night back for pretty much every year since he arrived.

He wondered what Sherlock would think if he found out John had barely done any of his work. At first he figured he’d be annoyed with him, but after a moment’s consideration figured he probably hadn’t either. That was what had happened the past few years, after all. He showed up to the train with no homework even touched, but always managed to show off and get it done before they were halfway to the school. John had no idea how he managed it. Second year he was absolutely amazed at that; third and fourth were a different story. He’d known Sherlock long enough that showing off was just what he did. He could probably face off against the giant squid and win just for the sake of proving to everyone how much better he was than them. He really had no idea how he was able to put up with him. Even Sherlock questioned it. Then again, busting a group of seventh year Slytherins all on their own in their first year is something that would lead to a close friendship.

After he’d managed to shove everything into his trunk, he awkwardly lifted it to try and take it to the car. When he was younger the trunk was nearly as big as he was; it was a welcome change actually being able to lift it. Having his mother carry everything for him until he could grab a trolley had been quite embarrassing.

John made it out to the car in record time, well, in what would have been record time had he not nearly tripped going down the stairs and having his belongings fly everywhere.