Let Us All Make History

The Beauxbatons Boys

Sherlock POV: It was annoying to hear everyone's excited voices as the castle veered into view, it was annoying to get stepped all over as all those girls clad in blue pushed to the window in an attempt to see what they would soon be approaching all the better. It wasn't that big of a deal, there were plenty of castles in France, why didn't they just ogle at those more rather than stepping on Sherlock's polished shoes?
"Crétins." Sherlock whined, pulling his feet out of the way and refusing all temptations of giving them all a good kick in the behind. It was just a castle, it really was no rush! And yet there went Molly, trying to drag Sherlock's hand so as to pull him along to the window of the carriage with all the rest of the bumbling girls.
"Sherlock come on, there's no use pouting about." Molly insisted in a whiny sort of way, finally giving the pull that lifted Sherlock from his chair so that they could both look out the window at the lake, the castle, and all the forest sounding it.
"So that's Hoggywarts then." Molly breathed impressively, staring fixedly at the towers and torrents of the brown structure. It was impressive due to its size and purpose, however from this height it looked rather run down and upsetting. Sherlock had almost expected something of marble, with statues all about, columns and pillars and whatnot. This castle certainly didn't meet his expectations.
"Hogwarts Molly." Mary Morstan corrected rather rudely from beside them both, fixing her hat proudly on her head and giving Sherlock and Molly quite the glare. Sherlock just scowled at her, while Molly was obviously trying to figure out a method to kill her with kindness. When her efforts failed, however, Molly reverted to scowling, Sherlock's method of solving problems without getting scolded. He looked back at where Victor was sitting, saving their seats by stretching his long arm across the couch so as to get a good view of himself in his little pocket mirror. He was such a narcissist when it came to his appearance, and that would be understandable if he was just a little bit more beautiful...and yet maybe he was just trying to hold himself up to the expectations of being around Sherlock all the time. Victor never liked being the lesser of the two, and on the beauty spectrum that was indeed where he fell.
"Well come on then Victor, there are other views than your eyebrows!" Molly scolded, pushing past some of the girls so as to drag Victor to his feet as well. Sherlock just grinned, for when Molly bossed Victor around for a change it certainly was pleasing. Sherlock looked towards the castle once more, seeing that it was coming closer, they were descending.
"Everyone to their seats, please, buckle up!" Madam Maxine shouted, waving her gigantic bejeweled hands through the air so as to get everyone moving. Sherlock sighed heavily, just as he was beginning to appreciate what he was looking at he was forced to return to his little couch, honestly this was just how his life worked these days. And nevertheless he took his seat, for Madam Maxine scared him more than potentially falling out of the now rocking carriage, and he sat down on the couch and pulled his seatbelt across wearily.
"This is going to be amazing; oh can't you boys feel it? It's going to magical!" Molly exclaimed with a little optimistic squeal, making Sherlock and Victor shrug carelessly.
"Everything's magical in our lives Molly." Victor reminded her, to which Molly just shook her head in exasperation. There really was no cheering these two up when they were in their contrarian moods.
"I'm excited just for the opportunities this little school will hold. British boys are quite dashing." Sherlock admitted with a cheeky little grin.
"Oh get your head out of the clouds Sherlock; there are more important things than boys!" Molly insisted, slapping Sherlock's hand softly before sitting back and her seat and listing off all the other things Hogwarts could hold. She was going with all the boring options, of course, such as education and socialization. And of course she was going on even more about the tournament, talking about it as if one of them would be chosen for 'eternal glory'. She really seemed set on the idea of her getting chosen, however Sherlock and Victor both understood that was never going to happen. The champion, most obviously, was going to Mary Morstan, for she won anything. She was rich, pretty, perfect, smart and cunning and downright horrible! If anyone would get something everyone else wanted, well then obviously it would be her. She wouldn't do half bad in the tournament either, that was part of the tragedy. It would be something of a tragedy if the insufferable Mary Morstan got the cup, however Sherlock was still hoping she would be selected to compete. It would be absolutely wonderful to watch her fail completely, to get beaten up by some monster in front of the entire three schools, humiliated and finishing in last place. Now if anything would steady out that witch's ego it would be that. And yet Sherlock didn't interfere in Molly's ramblings, for sometimes it was refreshing to talk about the future in the most cheerful of tones. She acted as if their lives hadn't even begun yet, and when the wheels touched down at Hogwarts they would find everything they had looked for and more! Well for Sherlock his greatest desire was obvious, obvious and mirrored by Victor. Beauxbatons admittedly housed barely any males, and as nice as the testosterone levels were very low, however there were barely any potential suitors in the classes. Sherlock and Victor always daydreamed about finding that special someone, and of course they hadn't had much of an opportunity in France. And so they did their research and found that Hogwarts was a fairly even ratio of girls and boys, encouraging them enough to write their essay and land themselves on the carriage. It wasn't much competition, for Madam Maxine had wanted to bring boys from her school to show some diversity, and most all of the boys in Beauxbatons were ashamed to admit they go there, and so they had undoubtedly been apprehensive to roll up in front of those burly Durmstrang boys in their baby blue robes. And so Sherlock and Victor had gotten the ride to the UK quite easily, much to Molly's delight. The poor girl never really made any female friends in Beauxbatons, not because she was unsociable or anything, however the girls here were all quite snippy. They all thought they were the best, hung around in cliques and talked about their friends behind their backs, they were nightmares! And so Molly had stuck with the only rather sane people on this carriage, the boys. The wheels finally touched down with quite the clatter, bouncing the carriage around on the runway and shaking everyone around quite effectively. No one seemed to mind, however, for as soon as the carriage came to a halt the entirety of the students jumped to their feet, rushed to get their bags, and pounded on the door in a rather pathetic escape attempt. Sherlock, Victor, and Molly all sat rather calmly in their seats, waiting for the ruckus to die down before they could grab their things and get moving. Madam Maxine pushed through in an exasperated sort of way, throwing around insults in French all while the girls backed away respectfully. It was obvious that they had to make a good impression, and if they all fought to be the first one out of the carriage then that wouldn't be that glamourous. Finally the doors opened, and after a long, horrible ride in close quarters with all of these heavily perfumed women Sherlock was able to get a breath of fresh air. Madam Maxine made her leave first, to which a large bout of applause started up from the Hogwarts students. Well obviously they would be amazed; it wasn't every day you got to see a half giant! Then the girls filed out, Mary Morstan in the lead as ever, marching with their little hats on and their blonde hair pulled up into the most magnificent buns on their heads. That was just another thing that set Molly apart from the rest of the girls; she was one of the only ones with brown hair. And it was beautiful, of course, and yet she had been very self-conscious about it when she first went to school. Sherlock learned that before they had befriended each other Molly had tried to die her hair magically, in turn dying not only her hair but her skin, teeth, clothes and presumably her internal organs all the same color of glistening gold. Sherlock really wished he could've been around to see that, for as depressing as the motive was the aftermath sounded plenty amusing.
"Well we should get a move on then, give the girls some eye candy as well." Victor said with a little chuckle, getting to his feet and moving towards where all their luggage was stacked neatly in the back.
"As if." Sherlock muttered, thanking Victor as he handed him his little trunk and starting out the door with his posy. The air was damp and warm, making Sherlock worry about the curls he had worked so hard on before he arrived. And yet there was enough of a distraction as it was, for as soon as he stepped out with Molly and Victor at his heels everyone started to applaud once more. Sherlock sighed heavily, knowing better than to wave and lap in all the fame for surely some of it was sarcastic; however all the students looked relatively friendly, and relatively diverse. Unlike in Beauxbatons where almost all the girls were mirror images of each other, the Hogwarts students sported the same robes and yet completely different faces, skin colors, and hair styles. Some of the boys were burly and impressive looking, wearing green badges on their robes and clapping without much enthusiasm. Some girls were sweet looking with brown hair, thin as a stick and sporting yellow badges on their robes, batting their eyelashes immediately as Sherlock stepped out onto the stone runway. He would rather the green boys; however he knew better not to stare. There must be some sort of system here, color coordination or something like that, not something you'd find at Beauxbatons. Hogwarts seemed to be a substantially bigger school as well, for the black robed students filled most all the spaces around the runway, with the shorter first years in the front and the taller, more annoyed looking seventh years in the back. The horses whinnied behind them as Sherlock and the gang started down the runway, following the large shadow cast by Madam Maxine as she stooped over to let an old bearded man kiss her hand. He looked very friendly, trustworthy even, and yet his pointed wizard hat made him look a little bit silly and so Sherlock couldn't respect him all that much.
"That's Albus Dumbledore there, their headmaster." Molly whispered, getting so close that her luggage accidentally swung into the back of Sherlock's knee, making him stumble about for a moment and glow a horrible shade of magenta.
"Come on Molly, not now!" Sherlock hissed, finally regaining his balance and, despite the laughter, carried on as if nothing had happened. He was prettier than all of these pasty British kids anyway; they should looking up at him not laughing at him. The ceremony for the Beauxbatons' arrival was short lived, however, for as soon as Sherlock was starting to feel like a celebrity a single gasp from the masses of Hogwarts students announced the arrival of the other school. It was a ship, a single mast at first, sporting a large surprisingly dry sail, raising from the depths of what must be the lake that Sherlock had noticed earlier. It was considerably farther away from the runway, and yet the Hogwarts students stayed still, as they were undoubtedly instructed to do. However it turned out that distance wasn't a problem at all, for the ship that rose from the muddy depths was large enough to see in plain detail from where they stood on the runway. A large plank was laid down from the hull, and soon a file of what appeared to be fir covered men started marching down to the shores, causing a stir of excitement from the Hogwarts students that surrounded them.
"Now this is more like it." Victor muttered excitedly, looking as though he was going to start squealing when the burly men finally came into view. It was quite a march for the sons of Durmstrang, and yet they were sporting large walking sticks that doubled as firecrackers, supposedly, for every time they hit against the stone sparks shot out from the ends. It was a very impressive ordeal, of course, and as the boys veered closer it led the trio to sigh heavily. Those boys certainly were dashing. And yet it wasn't just boys, there were some fearsome looking girls amount the midst, clad in fir like their male counterparts and looking upon the Beauxbatons girls as if they were planning on devouring them. Now those were some admirable females.
"They're really scary." Molly whispered, ducking behind Sherlock and Victor as if they were in some way going to protect her from the boys that marched past in something of a Scandinavian parade.
"Oh yes...I'm shaking. For the wrong reasons of course." Victor murmured to Sherlock, who grinned in agreement and watched as the Durmstrang boys followed their leader to the old bearded man and Madam Maxine, all who greeted each other like good friends. Of course they couldn't possibly be friendly, for every five years they brought their students to go head to head, however they did an excellent job pretending. Even as the boys went by, however, Sherlock didn't feel some sort of spark of true love. Molly went on and on about true love, and so Sherlock was half expecting to know what it felt like when 'the one' strolled past. Maybe he just wasn't a member of Durmstrang, maybe he was hidden among the masses of the black robed Hogwarts students, which might even be preferable. As beautiful and attractive as these boys looked they had the startling sense of being very straight. Sherlock was rather worried if he tried to approach one so as to ask him out he wouldn't just get jinxed, but punched as well. Which might be pleasing in itself, however Sherlock wasn't all that keen on playing with his life like that.
"I'm quite chilly; I hope we can go inside soon." Molly whispered from behind the two boys, still cowering away from the masses of fur clad boys.
"Well just ask one of those lovely gentleman to lend you his coat, I'm sure he'd be..."
"No don't even suggest that Victor. That's scary." Molly snapped, silencing him with nothing more but a string of rather offensive words.
"Yes of course." Victor agreed reluctantly, shuffling in his silken robes as if he would be ever so interested in asking for a coat. However before Victor could get himself killed the troops of kids began to move, Beauxbatons retreating first, following the very easily spotted Madam Maxine, while Durmstrang followed behind. There was quite the procession into the large oak doors, leading into the castle's entry way. It was a much more dazzling structure from in the inside, for the walls and stairways were constructed entirely of stone, with large doors opening up to what must be some sort of dining hall, laden with golden dishes and goblets. There were many passageways leading off in different directions, however Sherlock was becoming increasingly interested in what was hidden up that magnificent looking staircase. 

"Wow." Molly breathed, taking a short turn so as to see everything this hall had to present to her. The entirety of the foreigners were oohing and aweing, the Beauxbatons girls were practically fluttering in excitement while the Durmstrang kids were making very deep grunts of satisfaction. Sherlock, however, was much too proud to show his emotions, and so he gave a huff of indifference before looking around nevertheless.
"It's huge in here, mon Dieu." Victor murmured, spinning about and sharing Molly's rather obvious expression of amazement.
"English Victor, remember we're to be speaking in English." Molly reminded him in a tut-tut motherly voice. Sherlock just rolled his eyes, for the reasoning behind the single language was quite pathetic. It was to be sure that they weren't 'plotting' anything. As if they would discuss the downfall of the Hogwarts students out loud in a language that was readily understood by half the literate population of Europe. Nevertheless Victor gave a murmur of apologies and silenced himself, for he knew better than to challenge Molly. They were herded into the dining hall to sit at one of the long tables, arranging themselves around large empty platters and dishes.
"Well I can only imagine how long this is going to take." Sherlock grumbled, sinking onto the stone bench rather moodily before looking about the dining hall with some interest. There were large banners displaying four obnoxious colors, green, yellow, blue, and red, all decorated with different sort of animals and crests. He could only imagine that these colors corresponded to the robes he saw the kids wearing on the run way, for that would be the logical assumption.
"Oh keep your head up Sherlock, come now it's not all that bad." Molly insisted, looking around in awe at the brand new surroundings.
"Look at the ceiling!" Victor announced excitedly, bending over nearly backwards so as to stare at the ceiling above. Sherlock mimicked him, just about to make a large complaint about the practicality of the building structure before he saw that despite the grey clouds that hung above them there was obviously a ceiling, for great big beams were noticeable throughout the artificial sky.
"What an odd way to decorate." Sherlock murmured, however Molly went on about the ingenious of such a simply spell in such magnitude. She really was a nerd. When the Durmstrang students seated themselves at the other end of the hall the Hogwarts students finally filled in, much to Sherlock's nervousness for he realized that one of them would undoubtedly attempt to sit next to him. The ones with blue patches all flooded their table, all fighting for the seats closest to the foreigners and in turn nearly fighting each other for the honor of seating themselves next to Sherlock. In the end a boy seated himself down, holding up his knife so as to threaten anyone that might come up and steal his seat, and to Sherlock's great disappointment he wasn't even cute. To be quite honest he was the opposite of cute, he had rather large ears and a mad array of freckles that followed no sort of pattern across his face and neck. However he smiled excitedly at Sherlock, smiling with uneven teeth and holding out a sweaty hand to shake.
"Hello! My name is Henry, you must be from Beauxbatons!" the boy said excitedly, speaking loudly and slowly as if he didn't think Sherlock spoke much English.
"How ever did you deduce that?" Sherlock wondered sarcastically, to which Molly just kicked him in the foot, sitting between the boys and undoubtedly listening in on their conversations. Or at least Sherlock's conversation, because Victor was apparently too scary looking to have anyone start a conversation with him.
"Well I don't know you, and you're certainly not Durmstrang." Henry said rather obviously, chuckling as if thought Sherlock was joking with him rather than mocking him.
"Yes, very good. I thought I could blend in...but evidently not." Sherlock grumbled, wincing as Molly's heel came down even more painfully on his toes.
"It's the blue." Henry said obviously. Sherlock just chuckled, just about ready to change his seat, when he decided that this was evidently what Madam Maxine had wanted, international magical cooperation. He was supposed to make friends, and so maybe he could at least pretend to be friendly with these foreigners. He could only hope, however, that they weren't all this intolerable. Thankfully Henry was interrupted when Dumbledore got up to the podium to speak, and of course a collective grumble went through all those who were starving. Their plates were empty and of course this old man was going to ramble on and on about making friends and being honest and what not...well at this rate they'd never get to eat!