Sherlock characters Hogwarts houses (Opinion list)
Always that disclaimer of “disagree If you must, just don’t think I care enough to argue about it”. Enjoy.
Sherlock: I’ve gone over this many times but I guess I’ll go over it once again. A lot of people assume that he is a Ravenclaw because he’s smart. False. Sherlock Holmes is a textbook Slytherin. Yes he’s smart, but he’s smart about what HE likes to know. In the books for example he doesn’t care to even know that earth revolves around the sun & he even goes as far to say that he doesn’t care to even remember the fact. A Ravenclaw would NOT act like that. Sherlock is just a snarky, sarcastic, SOB who has very singleminded goals and aspirations. He isn’t a bookworm if the book doesn’t pertain to what he’s doing at the moment.
Mycroft Holmes: He’s fantastic for a sarcastic one liner. He’s like Sherlock but he’s even more of an asshole in my opinion. He and Sherlock constantly try to one up each other, but they don’t have similar goals necessarily so it never gets too rough. Totally a Slytherin.
Mary Watson: Two words… DECEIVED EVERYONE. She’s fantastic. Also very resourceful and has straightforward goals / aspirations.
John Watson: He’s brave, daring & it takes a bit of recklessness to follow after Sherlock. Absolutely brilliant friend. I just feel like Gryffindors would do the John thing and just make faces if they disagreed 😂
Greg Lestrade: Also a very obvious Gryffindor. Courageous and daring. He’s very friendly and seems like he would be popular with other humans.
Mrs. Hudson: She’s just a cute little puff. Ya gotta love Mrs. Hudson. Fave. PLUS she just kind of loves Sherlock & that’s just a cute little like family Slytherin/hufflepuff thing ya feel ❤️
Molly Hooper: This is only based on the show BECAUSE THERE IS NO MOLLY HOOPER IN THE FREAKING BOOKS. Anyways… she’s like a mix between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. She’s absolutely brilliant at what she does so I’ll credit that to Ravenclaw. She’s got hufflepuff traits too though like she’s loyal (even when Sherlock is awful to her lol), she’s a hard worker, she’s V PATIENT (with Sherlock again lol). Like idk she’s both in my mind. She doesn’t fit in just one house.
Jim Moriarty: This is gonna be an unpopular opinion to many because he’s the bad guy… but I wouldn’t say he’s 100% Slytherin. Like yes his goal is to beat Sherlock, but he’s kinda brilliant and he’s got the cocky thing from Gryffindor. So like he’s a Gryffindor/Slytherin/Ravenclaw. He’s so calculated and ingenious, but again he’s a cocky bastard & he’s very straightforward with his goals aka he has one goal in a sense.
Anderson and Sally: I loath them. They don’t deserve to go to Hogwarts.
Summary: an American forensic psychologist hired by Mycroft Holmes. You thought it would be more interesting and fulfilling than your previous job with a law firm in London but you had no idea how much it would change your life. Or really, how much one person would change everything.
Word Count: 3575
The last few weeks had been tough on you. The signs of Christmas were everywhere and impossible to ignore. You hadn’t been affected like this in years and yet you were missing your parents so much, you were wound up too tight. You had to calm yourself and clear your mind almost every morning once you got into your office, calling on techniques your favorite Psychology professor, Patrick Harding, had given you after your parents’ sudden death during your senior year at the University of Pennsylvania.
You had learned that you could survive more than you thought but it took a toll. Professor Harding ended up being the one to pull you from your funk and get you moving again. He brought books and tons of pamphlets of other psychology programs that fit your interests. He helped you through the stages of grief and guided you toward your saving grace; something to live for.
He brought Shelley by to see you and as hard as you tried to lock up your grief to keep from hurting her, you couldn’t do it but she sat down next to you and rubbed your back. She had learned to control it to a certain extent and she wanted to thank you because if you hadn’t reached out to her and listened then she never would have gotten this far. It had only been three months and you were amazed by her progress.
You left for Oxford only two months later and never left England since except for the few visits back to your alma mater. You had flourished in the new environment and fell in love with the culture that was so much like what you grew up with and yet completely different. That first Christmas had been rough but since then, you had handled it well except for a few stray Christmas Eve’s here and there when you didn’t have work to distract you from the traditions you held with your parents.
This year, however, the heavy feeling in your chest had started earlier than ever and work didn’t seem to make it go away completely. You tried to sort it out and only came up with two conclusions, either you were more worried about this Moriarty business or the thing you thought you were handling was handling you. Either way, you weren’t as in control as you usually were and you were beginning to feel it.
Mycroft hadn’t said a word about Moriarty since you confronted him and you didn’t know if he was still holding him. It was a classified matter and you weren’t needed at the time for any further consultation. You noticed Mycroft’s scrutiny ever since that confrontation as well, especially whenever Sherlock’s name came up. It wasn’t very often but enough for you to take notice and for you to keep your mouth zipped about the fact that Sherlock knew of Moriarty already.
Even though you had done your meditation technique before your appointment with Sherlock, Mycroft was still on your mind as you sat in your chair across from the couch. Sherlock was sitting with his left leg crossed neatly over his right knee. Luckily, his attention was elsewhere as he had rambled about his most recent case but only half-heartedly before he grew quiet and stared toward the window. His face wasn’t in its usual blank slate though because his brow never relaxed.
When Mary went
up, she found her cousin sat on the edge of the bed; the letter still in her
hands. Her pale hands gently held the paper, which contained barely half a page
of writing. Mary hurried forward, sitting beside her cousin. The paper fell
from Molly’s fingers with ease against the touch of Mary’s hand. Reading the
words, Mary felt her mouth go dry. She shook her head, folding the letter away.
“He loved me,
Mary,” she murmured, her voice so small against the space of the room. “I was sure of that.”