Chapter Text
The door flew open, and a tall young man with dark curly hair stood there. His presence immediately caused the class to fall silent and stare at him as he walked slowly into the room over to the front desk before turning and surveying the class, who were stood around or sat on the desks. His grey eyes skimmed over them again before he spoke in a quiet voice.
“Good morning. I am your new form tutor, Mr Holmes. I would appreciate it if you would all sit behind the desks rather than on top of them”
Everyone quickly scrambled to their seats, and within a minute, everyone was sat staring at their new teacher. Sherlock Holmes scanned them all again briefly before he took his own seat at his desk and opened the register.
“Answer your names” he said, and started rattling his way through the register. He would call the name, glance up, make a mental note of who had spoken and then continue. Some of the names stood out to him more than the others. Sebastian Moran seated next to the boy James Moriarty who had an Irish accent, Molly Hooper the little quiet girl near the front, and John Watson, the small boy hiding near the back. He finished the register, scanned them once again and sighed.
“As your new form tutor, I have the understanding that I must have a twenty minute mentoring session with each of you, in order to get to know you better... and guide you through your final year of school. This will start tomorrow, with the first three on the register, which is Jacob, Aimee and Liam. Also, if anyone has any questions or queries they wish for me to answer, I can be found in here at both break times and lunchtimes, although I am on duty Tuesday and Thursday lunchtimes. I will most likely have some experiments set up along the sides, and it is my number one rule that you do not touch them under any circumstances. Now go to your lessons. See you later” Sherlock said, waving them away, and everyone quickly scrambled to their feet and left. Sherlock rubbed his head and sighed. He had an entire day before he could stretch his wings again....
That evening, a loud roar and a scream sent John Watson to his window. He pulled the curtains aside to see an enormous dragon swooping across the sky. He stared in amazement, and the dragon blasted a column of flame into the sky. There had been rumours that a dragon had been seen in London before, around forty years ago. John’s parents still talked about it occasionally. He knew from the pictures that it was exactly the same dragon. He wondered who else from school had seen it.
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The next day, the entire tutor group were talking excitedly about the dragon, all except John, who was listening to the conversation from his place at the back of the room. Sherlock walked in, a couple of minutes late, and barked at them to sit down. The class quickly sat down, despite the fact that he looked absolutely exhausted and his voice lacked some of the authoritative quality it had held the day before. Only John seemed to notice the dark shadows under the teacher’s eyes.
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That lunchtime, John stood to the side by himself, as was his custom on Tuesdays when his friend Mike Stamford would have football practise. John hated football. It always seemed pointless to him, but he would still attend matches and cheer Mike on. John sighed inwardly as he leant against the wall, and did not notice the tall figure standing beside him.
“Afternoon, John” Sherlock said quietly, his hands in his coat pockets, his coat collar turned up against the cold. John jumped, and turned to look at his teacher.
“Um, hi Sir” he mumbled.
“You alright, John?”
“Sure, yeah, I’m fine” John replied.
“If you ever want a chat, if you’re feeling down or upset, come find me, okay?”
“Um... okay”