It has been nine years.
Sherlock has grown to look very similar to his old self except for his Avada Kedavra green eyes, round glasses, and lightning shaped scar he gained from a certain dark wizard.
Sherlock has hated his new 'home'. He had tried to find out more about the wizarding world to no avail.
The muggles have been awful to him. They call him freak and make him do their jobs. He still solves cases, but under an alias.
Well its not really an alias since it's his name. Sherlock Holmes the famous detective that the world never knew was actually a ten year old boy. He started taking cases when he was only five. Get a wheelchair and put a mask on and they can't tell what your age is. People are idiots.
"Freak pull the weeds out." Sherlock is snapped back from his mind palace.
Sherlock grumply complies.
At school Dudley bullies him and he is expected to have lower grades than him. He often just skips school entirely, but makes sure it's not enough that his 'parents' have to meet the principal.
He also experiments with his own magic. Sherlock helps the flowers grow and weeds to disappear, dishes washed, and floor scrubbed. It makes his job easier so he can quickly finish and solve crimes. Mainly to solve his boredom.
When ever is that letter to Hogwarts going to arrive?
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June 23rd,
"Wake up Potter! We're going to the zoo!"
Dudley's birthday how could I forget? Getting up I open my door only to be roughly shoved back into my cupboard. I stand back up and make my way to the kitchen.
"Take the bacon and try not to burn it."
"Yes Aunt Petunia."
"I want everything perfect for my birthday boy!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"I'm warning you now boy, any funny business any at all, you'll have no meals for a week."
Sherlock had been squashed to the left of Pier and Dudley. It was extremely uncomfortable and the worst part was that the two bullies kept shoving him into the car door.
When they got to the zoo the bullies each got large chocolate ice creams. He only got something because the kind ice cream lady asked what he wanted and Vernon got him a small lemon pop.
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"Make him move," Dudley angrily orders.
"Move!" Vernon says tapping his knuckles on the glass.
"He's boring," Dudley says finally giving up and walking away.
I turn to long python and say, "Sorry about him, he doesn't know what it's like. Lying there day after day, watching people pressing their ugly faces against the glass. Why am I talking to a you? I gone sentimental haven't I?"
The snek raised its head and blinked at me.
Can wizards talk to animals?
"Can you hear me?" I ask.
The snek nodded its head.
"Fascinating, have you talked to other wizards?" I am curious. Everything from 'my' world is incredible.
The snek shook its head.
"You're from Brazil aren't you? Was it nice there? Do you miss your family?" How does one hold a conversation with a snake? We should be learning this instead of the useless junk they teach at school. Who needs to know the earth revolves around the sun?
The snek pointed with its head at a sign that said Bred in Captivity.
"That's me too, my parents died when I was young. Younger than I currently am at least."
"Dad look the snake is moving!" Dudley screams as I am shoved aside.
Annoying twat.
The glass shatters.
Dudley falls in and the snek slithers out.
"Thankss amigos," The snek says.
"Anytime," I reply.
"Brazil here I come." The python then playful snaps at some passing people's heels and vanishes.
I smirk to myself before meeting the gaze of three unhappy Dursleys.
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July 25,
I collect the morning post, then I see the letter.
Finally.
"Whatcha doing boy? Checking for letter bombs?" Vernon chuckles to his lame joke.
I sneak my letter into my cupboard and deliver the rest of the post to Mr. Walrus.
"Marge is ill, ate a funny whelk," Vernon comments.
"Excuse me, Uncle Vernon? Could I be excused?"
Vernon grunts in reply.
I take this as a yes and dash to my cupboard. I look over letter. It's written in green ink by a carefully trained hand. I can't tell whether it was written by a man or woman. I sniff it. Has the faint trace of cinnamon, a unrecognizable tea, and cat. Parchment not paper. Wizard must be old school to use quill and parchment. Also faint tears in paper would suggest a bird of prey was delivering it. Small owl feathers, so an owl.
Mr. H. Potter,
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
I open the letter.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
~~~~
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva Mcgonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Mail is delivered by owls in the wizarding world. I store that piece of knowledge away into my mind palace. I get out of my cupboard and walk to the kitchen.
"Aunt Petunia, could I have some paper? Mrs. Figg says she needs some to mail a letter and she's run out. She needs money to fix her broken leg and is asking her brother. I've only just remember. "
Petunia looks down at me and shoved a piece of paper into my hand giving me a papercut.
I snatch a pen from the table and go outside to 'deliver the paper to Mrs. Figg'. I sit near the crazy cat lady's house and began to write my answer.
To whom it may concern,
I would very much like to attend Hogwarts, but I have a few problems that need to be sorted out. Such as I have no transportation or money to buy my school supplies. I also have no idea how to get to your school. If you could help me with these, I will gladly go. At school I would like to be called Sherlock, not Harry.
Yours sincerely,
Harry Sherlock James Potter
Current resident of 4 Privet Drive
I folded the letter, wrapped twine around it, and wrote on the back Hogwarts. I walked over to the post box and sent it.
I flop down onto my 'bed' it's been a long day.
YOU ARE READING
Sherlock's Story (A Harry Potter and Sherlock crossover)
Fanfiction"People usually leave a note don't they? When they . . ." Sherlock didn't mean to die. Something happened to his carefully thought out plan. At least he assumes he died. After all how else would explain awakening to find one's self in the body of a...
