Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

When Sherlock left Hogwarts, the sun had already reached its highest point.

From last night's Quidditch World Cup final to today's noon, he didn't get much rest, and he didn't even have time to take a bite of food.

But Sherlock didn't feel tired at all now, he just walked the streets of Hogsmeade with a heavy heart.

To be honest, Sally's story is indeed magnificent, but the current Sherlock is not the original Sherlock, and he should not have such direct feelings.

However, Sherlock, who has completed two soul fusions, is no longer truly carefree, even if the consciousness that traveled through time is always dominant.

Shylock and Sherlock are indistinguishable from each other.

The two have long been integrated into one body. Sherlock has experienced another life as the original owner of this world. Naturally, he has to shoulder the responsibilities and obligations that he should have shouldered. Not to mention that he can reach this point today. , and even more relying on the things Sally left for him.

He stood in the middle of the main road in Hogsmeade, looked up at the scorching sun in the sky, and subconsciously narrowed his eyes.

"It's nice to be loved."

Afterwards, his figure disappeared into the streets of this small town.

The next second, Sherlock suddenly appeared in a hidden alley in London.

He took off his wizard robe, revealing his normal attire in Muggle society. He soon found a phone booth on the street, took out a note from his pocket, and dialed the number on it. Got the phone.

Not long after, the call was connected and he opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm Sherlock. I'm near Portobello Street now. I want to meet you. Please don't let him know."

After a long silence, the slightly trembling voice of the old butler named Brad came out.

"I'll be there right away, Master."

After hanging up the phone, Sherlock didn't wander around. There were many shops on this street. He sat under the awning of a cafe, gently stroking the wand he always used frequently.

He didn't wait long, and soon an inconspicuous black car slowly parked on the side of the road, and the old man in a meticulous black suit got out of the car.

"Master."

No matter what Sherlock's father's attitude was towards him, the old butler was always respectful and treated Sherlock as a serious heir to the title.

Sherlock had never dealt with these family servants, whose wealth and status were considered top in the world, and he had never meant to sneer at the old man because of his respectful attitude. Instead, he asked him to sit down first. .

Two cups of coffee, which he couldn't tell whether they were hand-ground or instant, were brought to them. Neither of the two people sitting here had the intention or mood to taste them.

After a long silence, Sherlock asked softly.

"How is his health lately?"

The worry on the old butler's face is not a disguise. He has served as the butler of three Dukes of the Cavendish family, and he has a loyalty to this family that should not be doubted by anyone.

"There is no way to cure my master's disease. The situation is not bad but not optimistic either. The doctor said that this is the best result."

When Sherlock heard what he said, he seemed to be thinking or hesitating. In the end, he decided not to interfere with his mother's arrangements, but he would not do nothing.

He took out seven bottles of transparent potion from his pocket and placed them on the table.

"Grandpa Brad..."

The old butler said quickly: "Just call me Brad."

Sherlock did not dwell on this title, but continued.

"You should know that there are some differences between me and normal people."

As he spoke, in front of the old butler, he controlled everything on the table, floated gently, and fell back to where it was after two seconds.

Then the button on the old butler's sleeve suddenly turned into a ladybug, and then changed back to its original shape.

Just such a simple little trick has shocked the old butler who thought that he had seen many big scenes with the three dukes and nothing would shock him again.

He had also vaguely heard from Sherlock's father, the current Duke of Devonshire, that Sherlock was hanging out with some strange people.

He had always thought that those people whom the Duke called "wizards" were just a bunch of charlatans, and he had always wanted to find an opportunity to persuade the "young master" who was addicted to them to let him turn around.

But today, he realized that the "wizard" he understood and the real wizard were completely different things.

Sherlock simply showed some magic that wasn't even a spell in front of him.

The Ministry of Magic's enforcement of the Statute of Secrecy is stronger than any other law. Even if there is no heald, there will be other weird things around to monitor it.

They can detect any fluctuations in magic power.

Fortunately, he had met a lot of old people in the market, so Brad was not provoked to the point of shouting and showed that he was unwilling to admit it. He quickly looked at Sherlock hesitantly.

"Master, does he know that you have this ability, young master?"

"My mother and I are the same kind of people."

Hearing what Sherlock said, the old housekeeper sighed. He thought that by letting Sherlock show such magic in front of his father, the conflict between father and son would be resolved.

But what Sherlock said made him understand that the Duke had always known that magic and wizards were real.

"There are actually other hidden things about him and my mother." Sherlock just said this and did not reveal more. "I reveal this to you because I want you to know that the things I come into contact with are different from those of normal people." Same thing. The same goes for these medicines. If you take these and give him a bottle every other month, although it won't completely cure his disease, it can also greatly alleviate it."

As he spoke, Sherlock picked up a bottle of potion made from fragments of the magic stone from the table in front of him, and drank it himself.

"If you still have concerns, you can try it on other people, but don't tell him about this. He will definitely not drink these things after knowing it. Leave me an address. If the potion runs out, I will Then use the owl to send the new one."

The old butler nodded solemnly. He looked at Sherlock and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak, Sherlock spoke first.

"I know you want to ask, can he and I ever get to know each other one day?"

The old housekeeper sighed again and nodded.

Sherlock looked at the various passers-by on the roadside, his eyes a little dazed, and a smile appeared on his face.

"I'm waiting for that day too."

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