BOOM. The sound rang out like a cannon. BOOM. Someone was knocking on the door. Vernon came down with a broken vase and a white-faced Petunia. Sherlock poked his head out of his cupboard.
"Whoever's out there I'm warning you I'm armed!" Vernon shouted at the door.
BOOM. With on final heavy knock the door swung clean off its and and came to a rest beneath a purple walrus.
"S'rry 'bout that," The giant apologized and turn heaving the door back into its frame.
Vernon's head shook as he exclaimed, "I demand you leave at once! You are breaking and entering!"
The giant ignored him and turned to Sherlock. "Ah there's Harry! I hav'nt seen you since youse was a baby!"
"And I bet you haven't seen Sirius either have you?" Sherlock said.
Hagrid looked shocked, "How didja yah know that? Oh well I suppose they told you didn't they?" He nodded gruffly in the Dursley's general direction. "C'mon we better get a move on."
"No," Sherlock said, "I mean I want to go of course I want to go, but they didn't tell me anything. They thought if I didn't know and through abuse I would have magic stamped out of me."
"Dursley!" Hagrid yelled.
"He will not be going. I will not have a crackpot fool teach him magic tricks," Vernon said feeling rather brave.
Hagrid's voice dropped dangerously low, "Never insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me." He pointed his umbrella at him like a knife. "C'mon then Harry, best get a move on. Unless you'd rather stay of 'course," Hagrid said walking out the door.
Sherlock glanced at Vernon whose ears were rather pink and on top of his head for some reason. Sherlock trotted after him, "Hagrid, please could you call me Sherlock?"
"Sure thing Harry-er-Sherlock wait a minute," He looked down at him, "How do you know my name? I hav'nt told ya my name yet."
Sherlock smirked, "Magic."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"It's a famous place, The Leaky Cauldron," Hagrid said as they walked into the pub.
For a famous place Sherlock wondered it sure isn't crowded in fact it seemed only him and Hagrid were able to see it. More magic?
"Hello Hagrid, usual I presume?" The bartender asked.
"S'rry Tom, I'm on official Hogwarts business. Taking young Harry here to buy his supplies," He chuckled clapping Sherlock on the back.
"Bless my soul it's Harry Potter!" Tom announced.
Everyone turn and stared. If I going to be famous Sherlock thought it should be for what I've done not because I didn't die. How to make them see?
"I'm so sorry to waste your time, but I am afraid the Harry Potter you all are looking for is rather late. He should be here in about an hour, good day to you all," Sherlock said grabbing Hagrid's hand and waving good bye. They made their way through the crowd before Hagrid stopped him.
"Hello Profess'r, Sherlock this'is Profess'r Quirrell he'll be one of your teachers at Hogwarts. Fancy seeing you here profess'r."
The pale skinned teacher stammered, "P-Potter c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you." Professor Quirrell grasped Sherlock's hand in a meek handshake.
Something is definitely off about this man Sherlock thought. His turban isn't worn for religious purposes. The stutter is obviously fake and his scent is as if he took a bath in garlic. He's trying too hard not to appear as a threat why? Sherlock decided that he carefully watch his professor.
"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"
"D-Defense Against the D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, Potter?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment,I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.
Vampires? Yes, the magical world is definitely more interesting than dodging punches from Dudley.
"Must get on," Hagrid said, "lots to buy. C'mon Sherlock." He frowned at Sherlock. "Why didn't you let them know who you are? You're famous," He said as he led them out into a smaller walked courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.
"If I'm going to be famous then I want it to be for something that I've done. Not something I didn't."
"Makes sense, now where's me umbrella?" They stopped and Hagrid began to count the bricks on the wall above the trash can. "Three up . . . two across . . ." He muttered. "Right, stand back, Sherlock."
He tapped the wall three times with the tip of his umbrella.
The brick he had touched quivered. In the middle, a small hole appeared and grew wider and wider. A second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.
"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."
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...
