John Watson
John had just separated from his parents. As far as he knew, and was concerned, they were not magical in any way. But they were very, very supportive of him, and they were actually incredibly happy to have John being a wizard. He boarded the train, as he had just dropped off his luggage, and was looking for a seat in a one of the carriages. He found somewhere vacant, and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with a little click. He settled himself near the window, looking down at all the people milling about. They had arrived rather early - about half an hour before they were supposed to leave. His parents had allowed him to get an owl - which was completely awesome, and strange, but it was just so he could keep in contact. It was a barn owl, whom he'd named Fugo. He didn't really understand how the whole 'owl-messaging' thing worked, but he figured he'd meet a more magical friend, and they'd show him how it was done.

(oh gosh i hope this is okay)

Sherlock Holmes
Sherlock had left his family as soon as he could, avoiding his mother's fussing by heading off straight away after going through the barrier. They had arrived just in time, held up by Mycroft. Typical. Sherlock was glad he had managed to get away from his older brother as well. Not that either of them wanted much to do with each other. Sherlock had, of course, grown up knowing that he would go to Hogwarts. He was from a pureblood family, his mother a Ravenclaw and his father a Hufflepuff. His brother had, of course, been put in Ravenclaw. Sherlock was sure the hat would want to place him there. He didn't want to go there. That would mean being in the same house as Mycroft and... no. He wouldn't let that happen. He dragged his suitcase behind him as he hopped onto the train, moving along the carriage in the hope of finding an empty one. Of course he was met with carriage upon carriage full of people. He ended up settling for one which contained only one person, sitting next to the window. Sherlock's gaze flickered over the boy, taking in his various features before he moved into the carriage. He didn't even ask to move in. Didn't see why he had to. He plonked himself down with a slight sigh his cat, Marie, moving from curled around his shoulder to lying on his lap.

(It's great :))

John Watson
John looked up as someone entered the carriage, and put on a cheerful smile. "Hello." He said, as in way of greeting. "I'm John." He held out a hand, meaning for a shake. "What's your name?" He asked. Maybe this person could help him out a bit? Maybe they could even be friend? That would be great! John adored making new friends, it was a one of his easier talents, as well as writing and taking care of people.
His mother had been sick for a bit, and while his father was busy working so they could continue to eat and keep a house, he had to take care of her. It kind of inspired him to become a Healer in the wizarding world. At least, he believed that;s what they were called. He'd done a bit of research since his letter had arrived, and got a bit of information, but he'd need someone who was used to this kind of thing to explain it further.

Sherlock Holmes
Sherlock stared at John for a few moments, completely ignoring the hand John held out when he reply. "Sherlock." He spoke quite curtly, resisting the urge to sigh. He had chosen the wrong carriage. He had hoped the boy was a fellow recluse who would not wish to talk but it seemed that that was not the case. Maybe he could scare him off. Although he found himself strangely intrigued by this John. He shouldn't be, he was nothing more than normal in pretty much every way. Ah well, Sherlock didn't do friends. Or talking to people. "I am sorry about your mother, I do hope she gets better soon," Sherlock spoke smoothly, eyes fixed on John as he did so. "And I am afraid I do know much about healers so I cannot help you regarding that. My brother will undoubtedly know more, he knows all sorts of useless information, but I would not bother him." He watched John carefully for his reaction. Most people reacted badly. Called him a freak, told him to go away (less politely than that). Although what he had said to John was mild. He hadn't gone into full depth about everything. Just his mother and being a healer. He hadn't even mentioned anything about his lineage, or the fact he was a mudblood. He put it down to slight excitement for going to hogwarts.

John gaped at him for a moment. But than he grinned widely. "How'd you so that? That was amazing!" He said. "Can all people here do that?" He asked. He hoped not - otherwise it would seem kind of stupid for him to get so excited over it. He was still kind of mystified how the boy had know that about him. Maybe he could teach him that trick? Did have something to do with magic? He hadn't seen a wand or anything. His blue eyes were still wide, and he wasn't embarrassed to say he was quite impressed. He was beginning to wonder if he could ask for him to do it again, on someone else. He kept his mouth shut though, just waiting patiently for a reaction at his outburst - hopefully it wouldn't be negative, or one of contempt or irritation. He was almost sure the boy heard it all the time.

Sherlock blinked a few times, looking at John in shock. He had to be joking. That wasn't how people reacted. He felt strangely... Pleased. Someone other than his mother or father had praised his abilities. It felt good. "No, not all people can do it," Sherlock scoffed, though there was a small smile on his lips. "It's nothing to do with magic. And I just... Took in the way you dress, the way you act, minute details that other people miss. I can't completely explain, but to me it was all obvious. It's kind of science... The science of deduction I like to call it. My brother can do it too." Sherlock made a slight face, eyes still fixed on John. They hadn't moved since he had entered the carriage. "Do you really mean it when you say it was amazing?" He ventured quietly, almost nervously. He was just waiting for it to be some kind of sick joke. Sherlock was... reasonably well known among other pureblood families. The Holmes were quite important and as such their children were known of. For Mycroft it was perfect. He had all the contacts and followers he needed. It wasn't so good for Sherlock.

John was still grinning. "Of course it's amazing! You've got to hear that all the time, right? I've never seen anyone do that." He settled back into his seat. "So do you know what's going to happen when we get there? I'm a bit skeptical about all of this." He said, but he still looked very much entertained just by looking at Sherlock. This kid was cool. How did he not have more friends? He was kind of intense, just the air around him, but a cool trick like that, he could be pretty useful for some of the other kids. But than, it wouldn't be very fun to be just a use, John supposed. But why wasn't he with a bunch of other kids? And he mentioned a brother. Sherlock didn't seem like someone to pull a joke, or feel sympathetic for someone and decided to sit by them because they didn't have any friends. So what was the deal?

Sherlock bit his lip slightly. "Eh, no... Most people have quite the opposite reaction." He shrugged. Although then again he hadn't gone quite into so much detail with John. And he had been nice. He wasn't exactly sure why. "We get off the train, obviously, and I believe we get in boats on the way to hogwarts while all the other years take carriages drawn by Thestrals. Then we are led into the great hall where the sorting hat will sort us into our houses," Sherlock replied in a matter of fact way. "And what are you sceptical about?" He tilted his head slightly. It was obvious that John was alone here because he hadn't had the chance to befriend anyone else. Sherlock was sure he would make loads of friends in whatever house he was sorted into. Which he doubted would be the same as him... Which was a shame. Sherlock found John quite tolerable which was unusual. There were few people he found tolerable. There was Molly Hooper, daughter of a good friend of his parents. But only because she did stuff for him. And he could occasionally put up with Mycroft and Lestrade. Only occasionally. Nobody else, though. John was quite the exception.

John nodded, listening very carefully to Sherlock's words. "Thanks. And I'm just.. skeptical about this whole magic thing." He shuffled a bit. "I'm a bit worried they made a mistake, is all, you know? I don't have any magic family members. It just doesn't make sense that I have this... potential." He looked up apologetically. "Sorry. I suppose it's kind of an insult to you that I'm doubting your... world or whatever. It just doesn't make sense. How do you guys hide it from... uh... regular people?" He asked, looking curious rather than accusing. He didn't mean to be skeptical - it just seemed a bit random, almost too good to be true, next to his normal and mundane existence. He was just waiting for this to be some kind of stupid and exaggerated practical joke, or at the very least a dream. John was so normal - he'd had a normal, loving childhood, nothing strange had ever happened to him - well, except that one incident... But that had seemed more like a coincidence than anything else. He shifted again, looking nervous and a bit uncomfortable. He looked outside - wait, when had the train started to move? He couldn't see any people or buildings - just a long stretch of green fields. He blinked in surprise for a moment, and than looked back to Sherlock.

(I'm back :3)

"They didn't make a mistake," Sherlock replied with quite a lot of certainty. "First of all, they never do, and you're obviously a wizard. So don't worry about it, okay." He tilted his head slightly, just watching John in a curious manner. He did find the other boy... Interesting. It was all weird to him. He wanted to be nice to John, he wanted to be his friend. Sherlock didn't have friends. He had acquaintances and people that were useful to him and not friends. "And I'm not insulted. Others will be..." He trailed off. "Some wizards don't like people like you, John. Because you're... The term is mudblood. You know, not of a wizard family. I thought it would be nice to warn you." He shrugged. "And it's quite easy. There's rules about performing magic in front of muggles. Also, underage magic. We're not allowed to use magic out with of school so that generally saves any spells that are a mistake. Also there are spells to remove the memory." He noticed that John was obviously nervous and also uncomfortable... He wasn't sure what he should do to make him feel any better.

There was a knock on the door before it was opened and a boy stuck his head in. He was obviously older and seemed to already be in uniform, wearing a prefects badge. "Hey, Sherlock, thought I'd just check in on you while it was my turn to patrol the corridors," Greg smiled at the two in the carriage, to which Sherlock scowled in reply. He had been quite enjoying just talking to join and now that had been ruined. Greg turned to look at John with a friendly grin. "Well hello! I'm Gregory Lestrade, though I prefer to go by just Greg. Who might you be?" Considering that he was still in the carriage with Sherlock he had not been scared off yet. That was definitely a good thing. Greg would have to tell Mycroft when he got back to the Prefects carriage when his turn to patrol was done.

John nodded, listening carefully to what Sherlock was saying. He smiled as he finished. "Thank you." He tipped his head just a little, though. "And why don't they like people who are born from... muggles?" He asked, testing the word a bit to see how it tasted. It was strange to have to learn all these new terms. "I mean, like you said, I'm just as.. magical as they are. That doesn't seem fair." He said, not looking angry just... curious.
He looked up as Greg came into the carriage, looking just a little surprised, but he grinned. "I'm John, John Watson." He said, extending his hand lightly to shake, still grinning happily. This was interesting, meeting a lot of new people. Sherlock was very interesting, and definitely cool. And Greg looked to be someone he could trust. Maybe they'd all be put in the same 'house', or whatever Sherlock was talking about. He still didn't really understand what that was about. Was it a team? Did they have rivalries? Shouldn't the school be teaching students to get along with each other, not to argue because of petty difference? That was how his muggle school taught, anyway. Which was a bit childish, he supposed, because that definitely wasn't what it was like in the real world.

"I don't know, it all seems irrelevant to me and rather idiotic of them," Sherlock shrugged. He truthfully didn't know. He could see how logically the best wizards should come from those with pureblood but if a brilliant wizard had two muggle parents then that was no different. Just probably less likely to happen. But it did happen.

"Nice to meet you, John," Greg smiled, shaking his hand. "I'm assuming you're a first year as well as Sherlock? Let me just say welcome to Hogwarts. Also, word of warning, Sherlock has a tendency to get bored so he may seem sort of nice just now but he will get more annoying later on in the journey." He shot a fond smile in the direction of the dark haired boy, who just scowled again. "I'm a prefect at the school so if you have anything you want to know just ask me."

"Or me, and you'll probably get a more intelligent answer," Sherlock put in, From what he could tell about John he would be sorted into Gryffindor which would mean he would be in the same house as Greg, or he would be sorted into Hufflepuff. The first one could be advantageous because Sherlock would be able to get to Gryffindor through Greg so he could see John... And Greg would watch out for John. Although Sherlock found it weird that he wanted someone to look out for John and make sure he knew what was what. He was still confused about the fact he wanted a friend.

John glanced between the two of them, smiling. Thank God he had decided to become friends with two of the more experienced students. "Thank you." He said to Lestrade, and looked to Sherlock again. "And you, I suppose." He said, smiling teasingly. It was probably not a good thing to tease Sherlock, was it? Considering they were just meeting. He didn't even know if Sherlock called him a friend, although he knew Greg probably considered him one. He looked up again as another older boy came into view, looking at them all with amusement and what seemed to be a glitter of suspicion.
"Gregory? What's taking so long? You really shouldn't have stopped to talk to Sherlock." He said, but he was smiling a little. He looked to his younger brother. "Hello, Sherlock. Making friends?" He asked, nodding to John, who was looking at him with a bit of confusion. So he's Sherlock's older brother? He thought. Well, they both definitely have a 'commanding presence'. "I'm John." He said, smiling a little, although he was beginning to feel and look pretty nervous.
Mycroft blinked, looking him over slowly, like he was reading him. "He hasn't chased you away?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes slightly but smiled at John's teasing. Unusual, for him. But John made him smile. Sherlock liked John. He wanted to be his friend. But... They definitely wouldn't be in the same house. Sherlock didn't particularly want to be a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw so that left one option... Slytherin. And if John was in Gryffindor things wouldn't be too good. Everyone knew about the rivalry there.
"Just wanted to check on him, make sure he wasn't causing mischief yet," Greg replied to Mycroft with a smile and a shrug. Although what he had found was quite... Nice. Sherlock had been talking to someone and it hadn't been in a particularly nasty manner either. Greg had known Sherlock for a while, through Mycroft, and never had he seemed to have anything close to a friend.
"That's none of your business, Mycroft," Sherlock glared at his older brother. He knew Greg popping in was bad news and undoubtedly heralded the coming of Mycroft. Greg was like... Some kind of Mycroft magnet. Sherlock returned his gaze back to John. "Just ignore anything that my older brother says... He thinks he's very important and knows everything but he isn't and doesn't and nobody likes him very much."
"I like him, Sherlock," Greg sighed slightly, folding his arms.
"You don't count, Lestrade."

John laughed. "You guys are hilarious." He managed. "Do you argue often?"
Mycroft rolled his eyes. "One would say too much." He said, sighing heavily. He reached down and took Lestrade's hand. "Come on. We need to get back." He said quietly, although it was more of an order." John watched in shock. Wait, what?
He looked to Sherlock, completely confused, but he held his tongue, and just said. "Yeah, bye. I'm sure I'll see you two around." He said, smiling broadly again. Were Mycroft and Lestrade dating?! Or did people in the wizarding world just... hold hands like that? Or did Mycroft like Lestrade? Or - now, this one seemed the most likely - did Mycroft know that Lestrade fancied him, and was abusing this knowledge t manipulate him? The thoughts circled around his head, and he watched them curiously - but he obviously wasn't like Sherlock, and couldn't read the two prefects worth anything.

"He is so insufferable that it is necessary," Sherlock scowled. "But I do not think that it is hilarious, John." He tilted his head. How could John find they exchange between Mycroft and him entertaining? How could anything to do with Mycroft be entertaining.
"It gets quite annoying for those around them," Greg added with a slight face to go along with his words before smiling at Mycroft, squeezing his hand slightly. "Of course we do. This is going to be worse next year when you are actually the head boy, won't it? All the bossiness." He didn't seem at all upset about it, though, still smiling. "Bye, John. And yes, hopefully I will see you again." He smiled. If John became something like a friend to Sherlock then that was a definite.
At John's confused look in his direction Sherlock just made a slight gagging motion. It wouldn't answer John's confusion but it was basically his reaction to Greg and Mycroft's whole relationship. Then again he wasn't really one who had any understanding of something... romantic. It was all too sappy for him and disgusting and at the moment at the age of eleven he had no wish to even think about it. The possibility of being friends with someone was bad enough.

John watched them leave, and than turned to Sherlock. "Are they... dating?" He looked back at the doors. "Greg seems a bit too... nice to be dating Mycroft." He looked at Sherlock hesitantly. "No offense, though. I know he's your brother and all, he just seems very... demanding. And intimidating" He scratched the back of his head, looking a bit nervous. God forbid he insult Sherlock when he's just become his friend. He'd just become friends with him, and learning things about him, he didn't want to make an enemy.
For some reason, John wanted to learn about Sherlock, and his cool powers. He also wanted to just be his friend, because judging from the other two it looked like for whatever reason he didn't have any. It kind of made John sad. He wondered if Sherlock was bullied in his hometown, or wherever he lived when he wasn't at Hogwarts. Wizarding students had to go to school for those 11 years, didn't they? There was no way that school just started at age 11. How did they learn math or how to read or any of the boring, 'muggle' stuff?

"Yes," Sherlock made a face. "Just... blech, no. I don't like the whole dating concept." He shrugged. "And I would not describe Lestrade as nice... But he is certainly nicer than Mycroft. And better. And no offence taken, I don't like my brother much. So talk about him however you want to." He tilted his head slightly, watching John. "And he is demanding... He wants to go into the ministry and then run it undoubtedly. At least what Lestrade wants to do is a decent enough job. And there's no need to look nervous, not much will offend me." It was true. He'd been through enough bullying in his muggle school to be able to just ignore most things. But then again he was sure if John... Said something nasty to him it was more likely to affect him. He was already beginning to see John as a friend. He had generally avoided having friends. He didn't get on with many people, they were idiots to him and they all found him odd. And after a while he'd tried to cut himself off so he wouldn't get hurt any more. He may only be eleven but he was already pretty good at just ignoring his emotions. Pretending they weren't there and stuff. He glanced out the window, not really interested by what they were going past. He didn't see why people got so amazed by their surroundings. It was just landscapes. "I wonder when the food trolley will get here... I could do with some sugar."

John smiled, feeling a wave of relief. It still kind of made him sad, though - what could he have possibly gone through that he was so used to being offended, that he didn't care? John didn't want to ask about it, though. It definitely wasn't his place to know that kind of thing about Sherlock's personal life.
John looked at him, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. "Food trolley?" He asked, and just as he said that there was a knock on their door, and a little old lady with a kind smile poked her head in. "Anything from the trolley, dears?" She asked, motioning towards the little cart covered with different kinds of treats. John's mouth practically watered at all the food. He'd had breakfast this morning, a big one, but... he was a growing boy, dammit! He needed food.
However, he hesitated. "I don't have any money, sorry." He said, and settled back against the window, looking a bit putout, though e didn't mean to. He was quite hungry, though, and he was well aware he had no reason to be.

Sherlock rummaged around in the pocket of his coat, pulling out a small bag with coins in it. His parents had given him a small amount for food on the way there and then he'd managed to steal some off Mycroft, so he had plenty. "I'll have a box of every flavoured beans, two cauldron cakes, two pumpkin pasties, a bag of jelly slugs, two liquorice wands and six chocolate frogs." He quickly counted out the money, quite thankful that he had enough, and handed it over to the lady. He took the food he was given and place it on the table next to the window. He pushed one cauldron cake, a pumpkin pasty, a liquorice wand and three of the chocolate frogs over to John's side, taking his own and leaving the beans and jelly slugs in the middle for them to just take.
"Most of it is good, but the chocolate frogs hop about a bit so make sure not to lose them... Also there are some pretty nasty flavoured beans so I'd be wary..." He trailed off, taking a bite out of his pasty. He was surprisingly hungry, something that didn't happen too often. Sherlock wasn't one for eating for the sake of it. Slowed him down so he only really did it when necessary. Now seemed necessary. He was eating with John. And he had bought John food, which made him feel good. He had decided not to commnt on the fact John didn't have money... It was probably not the best thing to talk about. Sherlock, after all, was pretty well off.