"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."
"Sherlock here just told him where it is," Ron said wand still raised.
"Oh, are you doing magic? Go on then," the girl said. "Let's see then."
Ron cleared his throat and began.
Sunshine daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!
This obviously wasn't going to work yet the bushy haired girl felt a need to rub it in. "Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? I've only done a few simple ones myself, but they've all worked for me. For example, Locomotor Mortis."
She spoke rather quickly and poor Ronald had been struck with the curse whereas Sherlock's skilled mind informed him dodging would be wise.
"WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM?!" Ron roared when he realized his legs were stuck together.
"Finite Incantatem," the castor replied confidently.
Nothing happened.
"I don't understand? It worked before?"
"You mean you can't undo it?" Ron's voice dropped dangerously low. Lower than Sherlock thought possible.
"Even if she can't she's still a first year. The curse should stop in less than an hour and even so. . ." Sherlock flicked his wand at Ron's legs, "Finite Incantatem."
The glued legs were able to move again. The brunette sniffed haughtily, "I'd put on your robes if I were you we'll be arriving soon." And with a final sniff for good riddance, she left with her nose in the air.
Ron thanked him and then began on about stupid girls and Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle at a few of them. He never did understand them. Almost an entirely different species.
Then a certain blond came in with such dramatic flair Sherlock was sure his nemesis would be jealous. "Oh it's you," his eyes narrowed. "C'mon Crabbe, Goyle, we're in the wrong compartment. There's no Harry Potter here." Anderson's reincarnate left in a manner nearly as dramatic as his entrance.
"Git," Ron said voicing both of their thoughts.
"Bet he's a squib too and his father had to buy him his letter," Sherlock said amused.
The boys were changing into their robes when a voice echoed through the train. "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train it will be taken to the school separately." The train slowed and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. The air was cold and the trees cast dark shadows everywhere the sky was barely visible. A booming gruff voice called out that Sherlock recognized.
"Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there Sherlock?" Hagrid's big face beamed over a sea of heads. "C'mon, follow me-any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
They followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path. Gerald no longer toadless kept sniffling.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."
There was a loud "Oooooh!" The narrow path opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
"No more'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Sherlock and Ron were followed into their boat by Gerald and another first year. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then-FORWARD!"
And the little fleet of boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.
"Heads down!" Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; Everyone ducked except Sherlock who was grinning at them. "Why'd you duck?" he asked still grinning. " He's an 8 ft tall giant of course he has to duck." The other three blushed as the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face.
They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to take them right underneath the castle, until they reached an underground harbor with the dock made white brick. Hagrid checked that everyone was safely onto the platform and they walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around a huge oak door.
Hagrid double-checked everyone was there, raised his fist against the wooden doors, and knocked three times.
YOU ARE READING
Sherlock's Story (A Harry Potter and Sherlock crossover)
Fanfic"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...
