Chapter 1

111 2 1
                                    

Hi guys,
So this is it, my first ever attempt at a multi-chapter story. I started this story back when I was 15 so I apologise for that in advance! I've been off and on adding new things to it for years now - forgetting about it and then picking it up again dozens of times. I am so nervous about this but I'm hoping you all like it as much as I've enjoyed writing it!
As I said, I started this a long time ago, so forgive me! I also just totally forgot to publish on this platform as I was exploring the story, so you guys are gonna get the whole thing quite quickly! I hope that's okay :)
Let me know what you think! <3
________________________________

Sherlock Holmes often questioned what in his brilliant mind persuaded him to become a teacher, worse than that, a high school teacher. He didn't sit through years of university for his additional chemistry and physics degrees to watch pre-pubescent boys spitball each other across his classroom. He couldn't understand how such mundane things could entertain their minds so much. He had never before heard covalent and ionic bonding described as the different forms of sexual intercourse. It wasn't even as if he'd purposely picked a run-down school, he worked at one of the most prestigious private schools in the entire country, if not the most prestigious, yet he still had to sit through hours of year 7 and 8 boys snickering at words like 'penetrate' and 'bonding'.

But, even he had to admit, it wasn't all bad. Every so often, a spark of hope would step foot into his classroom, pupils with a passion for his subjects who actually care for what he teaches. He had a couple at the moment, a young Sally Donovan and Philip Anderson in 10A (Philip was most definitely cheating on his girlfriend Jeanette with Sally, but Sherlock had learnt to bite his tongue in that department), who had a particular interest in the forensic side of his sciences and enjoyed asking him questions about his side business of being a consulting detective. They religiously followed the blog run by Sherlock's best friend, John Watson. The same best friend that had married Mary Watson, a woman whom Sherlock found surprisingly tolerable and whom he actually liked and appreciated. She understood him almost as much as John did, which was a respectable feat in itself. And the two had produced the miracle that is Rosamund Mary Watson, a small human who he thought would be repulsive, but even Sherlock himself couldn't deny that he was mesmerised by his tiny goddaughter. He enjoyed playing with her and vowed to get her involved with the sciences when her Father deemed her able, an age which Sherlock was sure he could lower with enough puppy dog eyes and helpful jobs, and possibly the rare compliment. He had once thought that 221B would be unbearable with anyone else encroaching on his space, but since John had moved out, he found that he missed him. He even felt lonely at times, but still relished in the silence after hours trapped in a noisy science classroom.

The deafening blare of the bell and the chime of his email sounded at the same time and Sherlock's half-smile dropped from his face as he opened up the slow system to read the message from the headteacher, a slight lady who, in Sherlock's eyes, would make a perfect match for a certain detective inspector Gregory Lestrade. He would see into setting the two up if he weren't such a ninny when it came to relationships. The email informed him of not only a new student but a new teacher, both with the same last name. A Molly Hooper and a Louise Hooper. The world was rarely lazy enough to produce such coincidences, so he would determine the state of their relationship after meeting them. He enjoyed deducing new people, it kept his skills intact and alert.

The door to the classroom creaked open and he looked up to greet 11A, a favourite class of his. Every child in the room had more than goldfish brain functioning abilities and each one had chosen triple sciences off their own backs, so each one wanted to learn and would cause no hassle for the curly-haired teacher, whom they all loved for his brain alone. His students admired him immensely, and although he could be harsh at times, with this class he had never stepped over any lines or even raised his voice. He had to admit that he would miss these children when they leave and move on to the big and bright futures that are awaiting them. He'd had them since year 9 when they started their course and he had formed bonds and inside jokes with every child. Every child but the brunette sitting in the back corner, tugging nervously at her right sleeve, clearly left hand dominant. Her long hair was curled naturally into cascading, loose ringlets and her nose was upturned at the end. The brown hair and brown eyes combination suggested a dominant allele gene in the family, so the chances were this Molly Hooper would look very similar to her relative. The girl felt the teachers eyes on her and lifted her head.

"Morning, Sir." Her voice was clear with soft tones, but her nerves were obvious due to her shaky breaths.

"Louise Hooper, I presume."

"Yes, that's me, sir." She smiled, perking up at the fact that she wouldn't have to introduce herself. She had missed a term, but Sherlock could already see from the colour coded binders in her rucksack that he would have no problems trying to catch her up. She peered at him from under her eyelashes, seeking his approval. He smiled at her and walked to her desk.

"I'll come chat to you in a minute when I've set the rest of this lot off on some halogen work."

"Okay." She smiled again.

Sherlock did as he said he would and then pulled out the empty wooden stool next to Louise's.

"So Louise-"

"Loo, Sir, please." She asked politely.

"Loo," he smiled (he didn't need a false face with this class, aided by the fact he rarely wore it since he met John), "what brings you up here to London? You've clearly come from the Devon area, Plymouth I'd say, but you're also not unfamiliar to the London way of life, so you lived here before you left for the countryside." He paused for her to elaborate. She giggled.

"I'd ask how you know all that, but I know who you are. I read your doctor friend's blog. I tried to get my sister to read it before we came but she was always so busy with her old job. She doesn't really know anything about you as a result but I know your life is quite the spectacle, Mr Holmes." - Sister! That's the relationship between her and this Molly. He was a bit nonplussed that he didn't get to figure it out himself but information was information. He smiled at the girl's spunk.

"That it is I'm afraid. So, what's your story, Loo?" As much as he wouldn't admit it, he did take an interest in the lives of his cleverest students. He liked to know they were safe, looked after and well nurtured so that that their futures could be the same.

"Well, we moved to Plymouth when my Mum left, but we lived in London before that. That was when I was 8. Dad moved us to where he grew up. It was nice there, I liked it." She took a breath, steeling her gaze on the desk for her next words. "Dad died recently, and Grandpa's house and wage just weren't big enough to support the three of us. So, Molly got a new job with better pay and, well, here we are."

"Interesting, so your sister, I haven't met her yet, what does she teach?"

"Well, she's my half-sister. Same Dad, different Mum. We both look like him." She smiled at her memory of her Father, "Molls' Mum died when she was 10, Dad met my Mum when she was 13 and I was born 3 years later. She specialises in biology, but she teaches all the sciences. She's been teaching me all I could ever need to know since I could talk." Sherlock's mind was soaking in all the information about this interesting new character. Her sister's influence explains the organisation of the binders and her eagerness toward education, "She didn't teach down in Plymouth though, she was a pathologist in one of the hospitals." She suddenly turned scarlet, "oh god, please don't tell her I told you that, she'd kill me. She thinks everyone will think she's weird if they find out about her old job." Loo nervously laughed by his side.

"On the contrary, Loo, I think it's quite fascinating and a very interesting career path, I'd enjoy talking to her about it." The girl looked at him with hope and admiration in her eyes, she was clearly worried about her family making friends here, now that it was only her and her sister with a Grandpa to FaceTime every so often. He smiled down at her (she was quite short, no taller than 5 foot 1, so it was likely her sister was small too, depending on the difference in mothers). "Let's see how far your sister's knowledge has gotten you then."

And with that, he opened her textbook and began establishing what she already knew. As it turned out, she knew the full course, some of it almost as well as he did. Sherlock's anticipation to meet this Molly character kept growing.

Mr Holmes and Miss Hooper - a Sherlolly StoryWhere stories live. Discover now