A Study of Scarlet Witch [Sherlock at hogwarts]

The corrospondence

As Sherlock went to the infirmary to visit John, he was met by a horde of people. Apparently John had become very popular in Gryffindor by his stupid act of bravery of saving the Slytherin girl. News spread fast in hogwarts. So Sherlock kind of stayed at the back, looking around the magical hospital. It looked like a normal one, but pleasanter. It was big and sunlight streamed through many big windows. There was another older girl there, asleep and Prof Sudol was there too, her head bandaged so much that her bright hair was covered. On the table besides her were kept the sticks Peeves hit her with. Nobody was visiting her. Sherlock went to her, asking how was she.

Sudol looked flustered. "I'm fine, I'm fine," she said, trying to sit up.

Sherlock frowned. In the class, Prof Sudol had spoken in perfect British accent. But now her accent changed, sounding very Eastern European. Sherlock knew because he had a Eastern European neighbour back home who insisted on giving Sherlock her family special treats.

"You aren't British, Prof Sudol?" He asked.

Sudol flushed dark red. "Uh no," her British accent was back. But she didn't elaborate any further. Feeling awkward, Sherlock looked around, at the sticks. They were deep red, a very different wood than Sherlock had ever seen.

Madam Pomfrey, a short stout nurse thankfully came in with a stern face and shooed them all away. But John insisted that Greg and Sherlock should remain with a pleading face and Madam Pomfrey conceded.

His leg looked better. John said it had broken in three pieces but Madam Pomfrey was magical with the mend-a-bone potion, literally. It would heal in two-three hours. But John would have a slight limp for a day or two.

"Ugh I'm going to have a limp now. How will I attract girls?" John moaned. "Girls don't like limping boys."

"Boys do," Sherlock said.

"What?"

"Yeah. Little boys mostly look up to soldiers of the country. They think they're the coolest. And many soldiers have scars or limps of some kind. It's the sign that they survived a battle. You should be proud, John," Sherlock said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Speaking of soldiers, what are you going to be when you're older? I'm going to be an auror," Greg said, pushing his chest out. "It's like wizard police but more elite," he explained for Sherlock's benefit. 

"I don't know what to become. My dad wants me to be a doctor like him, but my mom wants me to do a wizarding career of some sort. Some maternal aunt in her family was in the Ministry. She's very proud of it," John said.

"You can become the magical doctor," Sherlock shrugged.

"Oh yes, you can be a healer at St. Mungo's," Greg said. "You're smart, Sherlock."

"Thanks, I didn't know," Sherlock replied and only John laughed. Greg just looked at him in confusion.

...

Despite being in different houses, It wasn't very difficult for them to keep the friendship. They had all the classes together. Plus getting in Gryffindor common room was relatively easy. The Gryffindors were very welcoming and rambunctious.

Since the DADA incident, Sherlock had become a popular figure, much to the distaste of his scholarly housemates. It wasn't as if Sherlock cared much for their opinion. But the cold Ravenclaw hospitality was a strong contrast to warm Gryffindor welcome. So he spent any hour he could spare from his reading and studies with John and Greg. He often helped them in studies. He was quickly becoming proficient in History and Potions. Other subjects except Astronomy and Defense against dark arts, he managed well.