So here is some Potter!lock for you all! Now I'm explaining this now, Harry Potter and everyone else still exists here. They are in the same year with Sherlock but (for example) in the books, Harry was the youngest Quidditch player, now it's Sherlock. But it's not like that everywhere. Like Sherlock solves the mysteries, explains them to Harry which helps Harry fight the Dark Lord (no I'm not saying his name). Let's crack on then.

Mycroft Holmes always had a plan. Always. As he dragged his younger brother towards King's Cross station, he realized his plan was failing miserably. Never had he thought that his younger brother would decline going to the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The boy was brilliant at magic! He was quite brilliant at everything, but Mycroft Holmes would never admit that. Now, he had to suffer through everything passing through his younger brother's mind after he had agreed to go to the school. Of course, mother and father would never take no for an answer, especially from the reckless, trouble making boy but they wouldn't want to break his spirit by forcing him to go. So they had their eldest son manipulate the boy into going.

Sherlock Holmes huffed as he finished explaining the life stories of every incompetent Muggle passing by them. The only reason he had agreed to go to Hogwarts was because, in a way he wouldn't admit, he owed Mycroft. His brother had taught him how to deduce people properly. It's not like he wasn't able to. He just wasn't able to formulate an answer through all the facts he was observing. But Mycroft had taught him a great talent, one in which he excelled in, better than Mycroft himself! Instead of stuffing his face with treacle tart like some people, Sherlock focused on his magic, his deductions and everything else he deemed useful. One activity in particular (it irked Mycroft, which made it even better) was Quidditch. Sherlock was somehow drawn to the game because of it's quick thinking strategies. If you weren't quick witted, you lost. When Sherlock got his first broomstick, the Nimbus 1700, he was over the moon, quite literally as he flew over the moon and back to their mansion.

"Now Sherlock, remember, Quidditch is only for second years. You will only be learning to fly this year so please, just try not to show off" Mycroft said sternly. Sherlock nodded but didn't seem to be listening. Mycroft sighed and kept pushing his own cart with his trunk and owl, always keeping a keen eye on his younger brother. Who knows where the boy can scamper off to when he's not being watched. At 11 years old, Sherlock Holmes can either act more mature than the wisest of men or more immature than a toddler. But Mycroft had noted that his younger brother had become more self aware of the others around him. He has learned, like any other Holmes, that caring is not an advantage. He was a sociopath, and a high functioning one that is. Mycroft almost pitied his younger brother as he got strange looks from other children when he walked around the neighborhood. One thing Mycroft Holmes did not understand was how at times people could be ignorant of a young lad, dressed in black, with dark, shaggy curls and porcelain white skin, walking about on his own in the shadows of town. But other times, watch him like a hawk because he stands out for being alone a somewhat creepy, as the Muggles would say. People decide to pay attention when attention is unwanted. When attention is wanted, they don't show it. But why?

"I'm a show off that's what we do!" Sherlock exclaimed as they walked past various platforms.

"Not unless you actually have someone to show off to" Mycroft stated. The boy glared at him, opening his mouth for a rather nasty insult but closing it again. Mycroft would probably tell mummy and she wouldn't let him play Quidditch anymore. Mycroft smiled smugly at his younger brother before stopping him between platform 9 and 10.

"Right then. There are separate carriages for the prefects, so you shall be going on your own. Do you think you can manage without causing a commotion?" Mycroft asked.

"I'll be fine, Mycroft" Sherlock spat.

"And what of the ones surrounding you? Will they be fine as well?" Mycroft asked, hinting Sherlock is absolutely not allowed to turn anyone into toads. Or worse.

Sherlock glared at his older brother before pushing past him and charging towards the wall with his trunk as well as the cage that held his black cat. He sunk into the bricks and emerged on the other side. On the side of the Wizarding World. Mycroft emerged right after him, pushing his cart towards his prefect buddies. He would have to embarrass Mycroft some other time. He ignored all of the people around him, with their hugging and crying because their children were leaving. Uh, sentiment!

Sherlock sat in his cabin, alone, flicking his wand, and changing the color of the kitten from coal black to red to yellow and so on. The cat meowed from it's seat on the opposite bench. There was a knock on the door and Sherlock quickly changed the kitten back to black before anyone caught an under-aged wizard using magic.

"Excuse me, do you mind? Everywhere else if full" Said a sandy haired boy, a bit short. Sherlock quickly scanned him: slight limp, probably broken ankle, hasn't slept in days, so the ankle must be hurting enough to disturb sleep, how did he break his ankle? Holds himself quite neatly, cropped haired, clean jumper, jeans, loafers, not rich but not entirely poor, well mannered considering he asked Sherlock's permission to come in.

"Not at all" Sherlock replied, putting on a fake smile. The boy tucked an owl cage in the small compartment and sat down near the kitten, who jumped into Sherlock's lap.

"I'm John, by the way. John Watson" He said, stretching out a slightly tanned hand.

"Sherlock Holmes" Sherlock stated, quickly shaking his hand before recoiling in his seat while the kitten jumped off his lamp and curled up on the seat next to him.

"Are you from the Holmes family!?" John asked.

"Um yes" Sherlock said a bit awkwardly. There weren't that many Holmes in England.

"All I heard in Diagon Alley is Holmes and Harry Potter" John explained. Well his family was famous. They were one of the richest pureblood families in the wizard world.

"Who's that?" John asked suddenly, pointing at the furry creature.

"Thanatos" Sherlock said, scratching the kitten behind the ears.

"Like the Greek god?" John asked. So he was partially intelligent.

"Minor Greek god. Thanatos it the god of peaceful or torturous death" Sherlock explained.

"You named your cat, after...death? Why" John asked.

"Why not?" Sherlock asked. He studied John and noted his expression: surprise.

"How's your ankle?" Sherlock asked suddenly.

"What? How did you-" John began but Sherlock cut him off.

"You were limping slightly when you walked in. Also the fact that you place your injured foot over the other, not wanting to put weight on it. As well as the fact that you haven't slept in a while, which is from the pain of the injury not the stress of going to a school full of wizards after you've only found out your a wizard" Sherlock explained all too quickly.

"How did you know?" John asked.

"I don't know. I notice" Sherlock stated.

"That was brilliant. Absolutely amazing!" John suddenly exclaimed. Sherlock stared at him. Nobody has ever complimented him on his deductions. He usually got beat up. Actually, he never got beat up because he was reckless enough to fight back.

"You think so?" Sherlock asked quietly.

"Of course I do. That was fantastic!" John concluded.

"That's not what people normally say" Sherlock said.

"What do people normally say?" John asked.

"Piss off" Sherlock answered. John looked at Sherlock with a concerned expression but it vanished as soon as they broke into grins.

"How did you know I just found out I'm a wizard" John asked.

"You were staring before you walked in while I was changing Thanatos to different colors" Sherlock stated.

"Wow" John said.

"What about your owl. What's her name?" Sherlock asked, glancing at the barn owl above them. Barn owl, typical, he couldn't afford better.

"How did you know it was a her? You know what, never mind. Her name is Tea" John said proudly. Sherlock cocked an eyebrow. He might have to rethink the partial intelligence that this boy showed because he clearly lacked creativity.

"Why Tea?" Sherlock asked, clearly curious at the unimaginative name.

"Because she's the color of the tea that my mum makes" John stated. Sherlock smiled lightly at the small joke before turning his attention towards the landscape, passing by in a blur of greens and blues.

"What kind of wand is that?" John asked, pointing at the wooden stick Sherlock was fiddling with.

"Holly wood. 12''. Dragon Heartstring" Sherlock stated. He remembered how he had caused chaos at Ollivander's when he was picking his wand. But this one had picked him.

"Cool" John said. Sherlock glanced at the wooden stick poking out of John's pocket. Dark wood, must be an elm. About 10'', judging by how deep it goes into his pocket. Has a silver glint to it, unicorn hair then. Sherlock turned his attention back out the window.

He had probably been staring out the window for a few hours because next time he was aware of his surroundings, he heard the wheels of the tea trolley coming their way. There was a knock on the door and plump lady pushing a cart filled with different types of sweets stood there, smiling kindly at them.

"Hungry dears?" She asked. John was staring at all the candy while Sherlock merely rolled his eyes, pulling out his pouch a gold Galleon and a few silver Sickles. He handed them to the woman and plucked a few Chocolate Frogs from the cart.

"Enjoy!" She called before walking down the corridor to the next cabin.

"What's that?" John asked, looking at the green packets with wide eyes. Sherlock handed him one without replying.

"Don't let them get away" Sherlock warned as he opened the packet and quickly caught the frog as it jumped out. It stilled at his touch and turned into chocolate. John cautiously opened his own, catching the frog before it jumped away. He grinned as it turned to chocolate and took a bite out of it. Sherlock glanced at the card on the back as he ate his own Chocolate Frog: Dumbledore. Obviously, the old bloke was on all the cards. He winked at Sherlock before disappearing.

They ate the rest of the Chocolate Frogs before John fell asleep. Sherlock blocked everything out, slipping into his Mind Palace. He would do something productive till it was time to change into their robes before they arrived at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Sherlock will be meeting Harry and the gang! Everyone will be interacting with everyone, just like in the books!