Hi everyone :) I'm back with a story I wrote a few weeks ago :)

Basically Sherlock, John, Mycroft and Lestrade at Hogwarts ( at the same time as the Golden Trio ). Hotson & Mystrade, don't expect a plot, pure fluff.

I feel that Sherlock could belong in Slytherin or Ravenclaw and John and Greg could belong in Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, but I had to make a choice :)

Enjoy ;)

Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling, the BBC and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

A/N: I'm not english speaking, but I hope this won't prevent you from enjoying the story.

Prologue

John followed his parents in the station, almost running to escape the pouring rain. He sure was going to miss London and its delightful weather, alas, he feared the climate wouldn't be much nicer in Scotland. According to Harry's tales, it was even worse up there. However, not even the fear of having his limbs ripped off by a troll could have made him want to stay home. Watching his sister board the Hogwarts Express a year ago had been tough, to say the least. Not that he had missed her, at all – all right, maybe just a bit – but today he knew he would get to go with her, and this fact alone was enough to make him feel a little light-headed.

"John, hurry up!" He heard Harry yell through the crowd.

He rolled his eyes and followed her as fast as he could, ignoring his parents' instructions not to wander off. He caught a glimpse of her as she ran through King Cross' wall to get to Platform 9 ¾. He let out a long, deep breath and risked a glance at his parents. He saw their trusting smiles, their quiet support and gripped his luggage a bit tighter. Then, he ran.

The sight that awaited him on the other side was enough to take his breath away. If only just a little. There were parents yelling, children crying and students all over the platform. Most – including him – had chosen to dress in their muggle clothes but he could spot a few of them already in their uniform. Owls were flying everywhere while their owners ran after them, trying to get them back into their cages, and John was almost sure he saw a toad skipping about.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?" His father whispered in his ear, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah." Was the only thing he could think of as an answer. He wasn't even sure words were enough to describe the mess the station was in. But what a wonderful mess it was.

He took a look around, trying to memorize every detail of the scenery. A mum was handing out sweets to her kids; another was stuffing clothes into her son's luggage. Older kids had come on their own but most parents were present, no matter how old their child was.

A whistle announced the oncoming departure and John gave his parents a last kiss before they ushered him onto the train. He waved them goodbye and moved into the corridor, preferring to avoid the awkward moment where he would just stand there waiting for the train to actually begin moving.

But as soon as he felt the machine start, he rushed into the nearest compartment without even looking up. He got to the window and caught a last glimpse of his parents still on the platform. Choosing to ignore the pang of pain he felt at the idea of being on his own, he turned his back to the window and finally noticed he wasn't alone in the compartment.

A young boy was seated on his right, almost frowning at him. John swallowed hard, realizing it wasn't a polite thing to do to burst into someone's compartment without even asking (and ignoring him all the while into the bargain). He nervously ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat, willing his voice to sound a bit more assured than he actually felt.

"Er. Do you mind if I sit with you?"

The young boy simply stared at him for a few moments and John felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze. He had piercing gray eyes and his features didn't show any sign of sympathy. Just as he was about to run for the door, the boy shrugged.

"I guess it's all right."

His voice was surprisingly low and controlled. John took a seat and risked a glance at his compartment neighbor. He had dark curly hair that contrasted with his pale skin. He was already dressed in his school uniform and John noticed that he hadn't been sorted yet. He breathed a little easier knowing he was also a first year.

John grabbed his suitcase and took out his own uniform a little hesitantly. Was he supposed to put it on now? He looked at the other boy hoping for an answer but he was already absorbed by the book on his lap. John let out a sigh and looked out the window. What if he wasn't any good at magic? What if the school had made a mistake sending him his letter?

He felt like a fraud. He wasn't anything special, he hadn't shown any special skill for magic and yet his parents seemed to have high hopes for him. He simply wished they didn't. It would be a lot easier on him. Merlin. What if – God forbid – he was sorted into the wrong house?

"Your parents won't care." The voice suddenly pulled him from his thoughts. He blinked furiously for a few seconds before registering where the sound had come from.

"What?"

The young boy let out a deep sigh as if explaining himself took him more willpower than he possessed. "Your parents. They won't mind the house you get sorted into."

"Wh- How would you… What?" John stammered.

"On the platform I saw them wave at you. Your mother, obviously a muggle, was wearing a gold-and-crimson scarf. Probably because your older brother or sister was sorted into Gryffindor. Your father was a Gryffindor himself, I suppose, judging by his proud smile and posture."

John stared at him, gobsmacked, but the young kid wasn't done yet.

"And there is the annoying fact that you've been sighing since the train started, tightening and relaxing your grip on your school uniform." He raised an eyebrow and John stopped immediately.

"I could tell your parents were proud of having another wizard in the family, and neither of them seemed like the demanding sort. So I would suggest you stop torturing yourself in vain. Besides, you're distracting me from my reading."

John stared at him for at least ten seconds before realizing he was gaping. He shook his head before throwing his uniform out of reach. "How did you know?"

"I didn't know anything. I merely observed."

"That's… Well, that's amazing." John finally answered in a smile.

The young boy's eyebrows shot up and John frowned at him. Had he said something wrong? The kid grabbed his book again but John could tell he wasn't reading a word. You could almost see his brain work behind his eyes, and apparently there was something he couldn't understand. After a few minutes of silence, he snapped his book shut, frustrated. He cleared his throat and looked a bit sheepish as he asked:

"Do you really think so?"

It was John's time to look surprised. "Of course! It's brilliant! Is it so surprising that I could be impressed?"

The young boy sat back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, looking away. "No. It's just not what people normally say."

"And what do people normally say?"

"Piss off."

John let out a laugh and saw the other boy relax a bit. Apparently he wasn't used to this kind of response, and in a way, John found that idea really sad. He reached out his hand and gave the boy a soft smile.

"I'm John Watson."

The boy seemed to hesitate for a second before shaking his hand, but when he finally did, his whole body seemed more relaxed than before. "Holmes. Sherlock Holmes."

John sat back. "Sister, by the way." Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "She's a year older than me, and she is a Gryffindor."

Sherlock nodded but remained silent. However, John didn't really mind, he could tell the young boy wasn't used to talking and even less to having people talk to him. It was fine really. That didn't mean he was going to give up though.

"So, do you know anyone at Hogwarts? An older sister? Or a brother maybe?"

Sherlock focused his gaze on John, apparently deep in thought. When he finally answered his voice was a bit sharper than it had been before. "No."

Before John could think of anything else to ask, the compartment's door burst open, revealing an older boy in his Slytherin uniform. His features seemed to suggest he wasn't much older than they were but his eyes literally screamed 'maturity'.

"Really, Sherlock. There's no need to deny my existence. After all, we'll be living under the same roof for the rest of the year."

"Have you been spying on me?" Sherlock hissed through gritted teeth. "Again?"

The older boy tilted his head and sent him a playful smile before turning towards John, extending a steady hand. "Mycroft Holmes. Sherlock's brother. Nice to meet you."

John gaped at him for a moment before shaking his hand. "John Watson. Nice to meet you too."

Apparently very pleased with himself, Mycroft slid the door open before turning towards his brother. "Try not to traumatize poor little John too much." Sherlock simply glared at him before kicking the door shut.

He sat back and crossed arms and legs. "So, that was my brother."

"Yes." John cleared his throat, still trying to make sense of what had just happened. "He seems… nice, I guess."

"Mycroft is many things. Nice isn't one of them."

"I was going to say 'weird' but didn't want to sound rude."

Sherlock chuckled softly and relaxed a bit. John smiled back, he felt warm knowing he could make the young boy laugh. Apparently this was a rare occurrence.

"So you already know which House I'm hoping for. Do you think you'll be in Slytherin too?"

Sherlock looked thoughtful for a moment. "We'll see."

John and Sherlock were climbing the stairs to the Great Hall, when an old woman stopped them. John was trying to listen but he felt way too nervous to hear a single word.

"There's no need to panic." Sherlock whispered at his side.

John turned to him and arched an eyebrow. "Easier said than done."

Sherlock shrugged before taking John's hand in his own, stopping him from clenching and unclenching it. John looked up at him with a questioning look but Sherlock had already let go and appeared to be focused on Professor McGonagall's speech. Clearly this boy had absolutely no notion of personal space or privacy. But then again, John didn't really mind. Somehow he felt a bit safer knowing that Sherlock was by his side.

The Deputy Head then lead them to the Great Hall and John could hear a little girl ramble on about a magic ceiling a few feet away.

"Muggle-born." Sherlock softly murmured. John raised an eyebrow and the other boy knew it meant he had to explain himself. "Her uniform doesn't have a single wrinkle on it. Her posture is a little too stiff to be natural and she's been shoving her book-learned knowledge down everybody's throat."

Impressed as he was, John didn't smile this time. He nervously gripped his shirt and turned towards Sherlock. "And does it matter? Being muggle-born?"

Sherlock looked at him for a few seconds, his cold gray eyes boring into John's. Then he looked away and put his hands inside his trousers' pockets. "No. It doesn't."

John let out a sigh, relieved, as Professor McGonagall began calling students for the Sorting. He absent-mindedly noticed that the muggle-born girl was sorted in Gryffindor. Then came Sherlock's turn. His steps were calm and graceful and John was impressed he could stay in perfect control of himself, knowing the whole school was staring at him. And the Headmaster's blue playful eyes weren't helping either.

Sherlock climbed on the stool and John half expected it to yell 'Slytherin' without a second thought. But it remained silent for a few seconds. Sherlock's eyes were tightly shut and he was apparently deep in thought. Then John remembered what Sherlock had told him on the train: the Sorting Hat took your opinion into account. Maybe the Hat wasn't sure and Sherlock had to persuade it to send him to Slytherin. John was under the impression that the boy's family had decided on his House a long time ago.

"Ravenclaw!" The Hat finally yelled.

John simply stared at Sherlock's satisfied smirk as he went to sit at his table. He risked a glance at Mycroft and noticed his half-amused-half-reproachful expression. He supposed Sherlock was smart enough for Ravenclaw, but he hadn't been expecting this. Then again, he didn't think he could ever predict Sherlock's actions.

A Gregory Lestrade got sorted into Hufflepuff and then a few more students were called up.

Most of the students had already been sorted now. Only three of them were left. John, a red-head who looked ready to pass out and a boy who glared at everything that moved.

"John Watson." Professor McGonagall announced.

John readied himself and walked up to the stool, willing his legs not to shake. He sat down and readjusted the Hat when it fell in front of his eyes. He could see every gaze in the room on him but he tried to ignore them. He searched for Sherlock at the Ravenclaw table and found him staring at him, looking curious.

Ah, let's see. You're brave, and loyal too. Hufflepuff would be a good choice for you, but you don't seem to be the kind to abide by the rules… John could almost hear the Hat chuckle inside his head. No… I think you would do well in…

"Gryffindor!"

John let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and let Professor McGonagall take the Hat back. He rose up and walked towards the Gryffindor table, smiling as his new Housemates cheered. At the Ravenclaw table, Sherlock shook his head and smiled, but John didn't turn in time to see it.

The end of the meal was approaching and John was ready to leave now. He was full and exhausted, but most of all, he was intrigued. Dumbledore rose from his seat and gave them a new set of instructions. As soon as he was done, John jumped up and looked for Sherlock. He spotted him near the doors and practically ran in his directions.

"Sherlock!"

The young boy turned on his heels to face him, his eyebrows raised in question.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you? You asked the Sorting Hat not to be placed in Slytherin."

Sherlock smirked. "Well observed." John smiled proudly, though he didn't exactly know why. "Would it have made a difference though? If I had been sorted into Slytherin?"

John didn't even need to think about it. He slowly shook his head. "No."

I'll post two chapters a day, and there are 7 in total, so this will be fully uploaded in 3 days ;)

Please review, I live on those.