Persos : John, Sherlock, Luna Lovegood.
Titre : The Case of the Unwelcome Owl.
Auteur : Pandarus.
Fandoms : Sherlock + Harry Potter.
Statut : One-shot.
Rating : PG.
Langue : Anglais.
Genres : Gen, humour, crossover.
Nombre de mots : 7458.
Résumé : L’histoire commence quand Sherlock vient emprunter à John son pistolet pour tuer un hibou. Dans laquelle Sherlock est un cracmol, et reçoit des nouvelles de sa famille.
Avis, par Flo Nelja : Pourquoi cette fic doit être lue ?
– Parce que j’adore l’idée. Quand on lit cette fic, on se dit que cela expliquerait beaucoup de choses sur l’attitude de Sherlock. Le passage où John découvre avec horreur qu’on lui fait jouer le rôle d’un elfe de maison est hilarant.
– Parce que Luna Lovegood en adulte est bien écrite, toujours excentrique et charmante, mais plus mature.
– J’aime beaucoup comment elle donne des nouvelles du monde de Harry Potter, comme ça, sans y penser (et John qui ne comprend strictement rien)
– Et même si la fic est gen Luna shippe plus ou moins Sherlock et John, ce qui est toujours réjouissant.
“I gather you’re a sort of – er – a witch?” John said, feeling his eyebrows darting up as if they couldn’t quite believe what was coming out of his mouth.
Luna nodded. “Yes.”
“And Sherlock knows this?”
“Oh, yes. Well, he’d have to,” she said, reasonably. “Everyone he knows is a witch or a wizard. Or – well, they were when we were children. They sent him away to a Muggle High School, though, when they realised he was a – um.” She looked embarrassed, and her voice dropped. “A squib.”
“A squib? Like a broken firework?” John could think of very few things that were less apt descriptions of his flatmate.
“Just like that! Although in hindsight it was probably for the best, in a way,” she added, peering over at the tottering towers of books with an expression of mild fascination. “Because nobody was ever as clever as Sherlock was, even when we were small. Or so fierce. He could have been worse than Voldemort, I think, in his own way. It wouldn’t have taken much. And that would have been such a shame – so maybe it was a blessing in disguise.” She reached up to scritch the owl gently. “Of course, I don’t think he really saw it that way.”
After knowing Sherlock Holmes for several months, John was fairly resigned to taking part in conversations where he understood about a tenth of what was being said, and filling in the gaps as best he could.
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