Blessing Potion [Comprehensive British and American]

Sherlock has grown a lot taller than last time, and looks a bit like an adult.

At this moment, he was wearing a dark windbreaker and slim-fit trousers. The collars on both sides were turned up flamboyantly to cover half of his chin. His curly dark brown hair was half-length on both sides of his cheeks.At this moment, a finger was placed on his lips, silencing Cyril.

Cyril understood and nodded restrainedly.Trying to suppress my rapid heartbeat just now and the surprise of meeting my little friend again, I followed Sherlock and quietly approached the kitchen door.

The voice inside was loud and quiet, and Cyril could barely hear it when he leaned against the wall.

"If you want me to say it's just tonight, there's been a rush over there. It's been a month... In case, my lord... we here... you don't want to see..." A deep voice said.

"No, no, no! Not tonight, it's a good day when it rains, obviously you can delay it any longer, can't you?"

Another thin voice interrupted forcefully.

Cyril recognized that the voice belonged to the owner of the inn.

The little man sat behind the bar this morning, taking money in a high-pitched voice.

"It was good to send it because of the rain. Maybe when the messenger is happy, he will say something nice to the adults, and we will have nothing to do this year!"

That deep voice was full of delusion.

"Then... I'm not sure how long those people will stay. In case... I can't..."

Apparently the phrase "nothing to do in a year" was very tempting, the shrill voice weakened, and there was hesitation inside and outside the words.

"I believe you can keep them...Old Terry always has his way, doesn't he? If it doesn't work...just take that medicine, I don't need to teach you about it..."

"No, no need. There is still medicine, you go first, don't be seen. I will contact you when I get it..." The owner of the small hotel called Old Terry replied tremblingly.

"Then...see you at the old place?"

"Ah."

After the conversation stopped, there were the sounds of footsteps walking away and doors being pulled.It means that there is a back door in the kitchen.

Sherlock silently dragged Cyril away from the kitchen door, and the two of them climbed up the stairs stooping, and stopped at the semi-central bend between the first floor and the second floor of the stairs.

……

Within a minute, Old Terry, the owner of the small hotel, came out of the kitchen in a wobbly manner.The restless head turned back and forth, with a typical guilty conscience.

Sherlock made a gesture, and Cyril followed his footsteps and walked down carelessly.

"Oh, you're from Scotland?" Sherlock asked casually but clearly.

Cyril glanced at the back of the dark brown head in front of him and rolled his eyes: "Yes, yes. What about you?"

"I'm from London. I went to visit my aunt in Great Hangleton, and I passed by here to rest, but it caught up with the rain. By the way, I know a Scottish friend, maybe you do." Sherlock stepped on the wooden stairs as he spoke. Loud.

"Oh, really? You can talk to me when you come back." Cyril cooperated with Sherlock to increase the messy footsteps.

"We can talk in a moment, what's the weather like in Scotland?" Sherlock stepped on the floor from the stairs one last time.

"It's cooler than here." Cyril followed closely on the flat ground.

Then the two saw Old Terry who was wiping glasses in front of the bar without saying a word.

Sherlock leaned against the bar with a natural face, and made a loud noise again, probably because the shoe hit the wood of the bar.Old Terry's wrinkled eyelids trembled convulsively.

"The boss has three drinks, and they will be delivered together..."

"Send it to 314, come and have a drink with us, and talk about your Scottish friend by the way." Cyril took over the conversation, looking like a warm invitation.

"Yes. It just so happens that I live in 315, next door." Sherlock nodded casually, looking like a kid.

Old Terry was finally willing to raise his head from his cup, revealing his small but bright eyes, staring closely at the two teenagers in front of him.

Swallowing, black fingers put the dirty cup on the table, and said slowly: "What would you like to drink, distinguished guest?"

The voice was uncontrollably shrill, and the ending was a little excited or hysterically trembling.

"Three cups of hot milk tea, all sent to 314." Cyril said calmly.

"Okay... wait a minute... I'll send it to you in a while." Old Terry said, then turned and walked to the kitchen.

Sherlock and Cyril looked at each other, then walked upstairs together in silence.

Stopping at the door of 314 on the third floor, Sherlock glanced at his friend and found that he was frowning, and knocked on the door casually.

The door opened from the inside, and a tall black-haired man blocked the door.

Snape opened his thin lips tightly, as if he wanted to say something, but when he saw Sherlock at the door, he fell silent again.

Cyril inexplicably felt a little powerless and guilty, and tried her best to squeeze into the crack of the door with a smile on her face.

"Severus, this is my friend I just met downstairs, Sherlock."

"..." The black-haired and black-eyed wizard frowned, still firmly holding on to the door, and didn't mean to let him in by turning around.

"Severus, let's go in first, the situation downstairs is complicated."

Cyril boldly stretched out his claws to Dean Snape, and slowly pushed him behind the door.Sherlock stared at the black-haired man with a bad face at the door with great interest, walked sideways into the room unceremoniously, closed the door and put on the chain lock by the way.

Snape walked back to his sofa chair without saying a word, and sat down in a civilized and elegant way, leaning back, leaning on the soft cushion behind him, touching his fingertips lightly, Lay loosely on your lap.

"You always bring surprises to people from time to time, even if you go downstairs to bring a glass of water, you can find someone..."

The black-haired wizard continued his last cultivation, and swallowed the word "trouble".

Sherlock looked around unceremoniously, and stayed on the sniffling who was sleeping like a scarf for two more seconds, and then spontaneously sat on another chair (the one where the professor put his feet before).Cyril had no choice but to sit at the foot of the opposite bed in aggrieved manner.

"Severus, I overheard some bad things when I went downstairs just now. It may have something to do with us, and then I happened to meet Sherlock." Cyril explained.

"What's the matter? And what's your little friend doing?" Snape seemed to have calmed down, slightly raised his chin, and asked.

"I think people in this village want to leave us to do something or hand it over to someone...?" Cyril said vaguely about his intuitive feelings.

"I'm here to investigate the case, and I'm currently an 'intern detective'. There have been missing persons in this village for a year in a row." Sherlock stared closely at the aura-filled man next to him, and introduced himself.

"I am Sherlock Holmes. Cyril's friend. Your Excellency?"

"Snape, Cyril's ... friend. Mr. Intern Detective."

Every word that came out of Snape's mouth was soft, but Cyril felt that the headmaster said the word "internship" very slowly.

"We're not very interested in your little detective tricks... as long as it doesn't involve us. To be honest, we can leave tonight." Snape continued, staring into Sherlock's gray-blue eyes.

"It's possible...it's not up to us to decide." Sherlock made a half-smile expression, and several creases were drawn on his young collagen-filled face.

The next second, there was a knock on the door of the room.

"Room service, bring drinks." Old Terry's shrill voice came from outside the door.

Sherlock gave Snape a meaningful look.Snape turned his head and ignored it, neither of them had any intention of moving their feet to open the door.

"...Here we come." Cyril stood up feebly, and opened the door to pick up "drinks".

The old Terry at the door was originally short, but now he bent his waist extremely low. When Cyril opened the door and looked straight up, he almost thought that someone had used the floating spell to bring the milk tea directly.

"Thank you." Cyril took the tray and stuffed a handful of tips (pounds from Dad Benny before leaving the door).

Old Terry seemed to be extremely nervous, and stuffed a handful of money back in trepidation, and took away the extra cup of milk tea in the tray with his bare hands, and carefully took away five pounds, claiming it was money for milk tea.

Xi Ruier stared at the little middle-aged man who quickly walked down the corridor through the corridor and downstairs with a milk tea, and he seemed to be running away.

After closing the door and turning around with the milk in hand, Cyril casually placed the three cups that seemed to be filled with ingredients on the high table at one side, and then sat back to his original position.Within 2 minutes of his leaving, it was obvious that neither of the two men spoke again.

"Then we..." Cyril rubbed his hands together and pointed to the three cups of milk tea on the table.

"Mr. Holmes, no matter what your purpose is, I want to tell you that there are a hundred ways for the two of us to get out of this ghostly place. The most important thing is that we don't have to participate in your home game."

Snape spoke suddenly, and it was the longest sentence he had said in an hour.

"Mr. Snape, you have a purpose for coming here, right? The transportation is inconvenient, and you finally arrived after a long journey, isn't it a pity to leave like this?" Sherlock was not affected by Snape's intimidating aura at all, and asked back .

Snape turned his face blankly, and stared at Cyril who had just sat down.

Cyril looked blank: "...Huh?"

"Oh, by the way, this cup of milk tea should have added ingredients to make us unconscious or something. So, what should we do?" Cyril was stunned for a few seconds before continuing to sell those cups of milk tea.

Sherlock stood up, took out a cowhide bag from the windbreaker, took out a small test tube, and directly began to test the composition of the unknown liquid.

"It's true that something was added, but I haven't seen it..." Sherlock whispered after testing it with the simple tools he carried with him.

"Huh? Haven't you seen it? Let me see." Cyril picked up a cup without hope. In fact, his knowledge of Muggle medicine is limited to Chinese herbal medicine.

The boy brought it up to his nose casually and sniffed it.

Wait, this smell...

He could smell the powdered sunflower root and the infusion of absinthe.

"Yuan... Severus, look?" Cyril brought the milk tea over.

"Water of Life and Death?" Snape frowned for a moment and immediately said the main point.

"How come there are things from ours in here?" Cyril asked in a worried voice.

However, Sherlock's ears are very sharp: "What is your thing?"

Cyril glanced at his dean, and finally could only bite the bullet and explain: "My friend and I researched some... cutting-edge... pharmaceuticals, which are in there."

"Frontier... potion?" Sherlock narrowed his gray-blue eyes, then turned his head away without further questioning.

Cyril often breathed a sigh of relief.Then he picked up three cups of milk tea and poured them directly into the toilet.Ever since Snape discovered the Water of Life and Death, he had been frowning and thinking, not knowing what he was thinking about.

At this time, Zhaocai woke up and threw himself at Xi Ruier's leg, and Xi Ruier hugged him up.

Sherlock stared at the strange mole in his friend's hand with great interest, but did not speak.

"Then what should we do now?" Cyril said worriedly, Zhao Cai was still leaning towards the Riddle Mansion persistently.

"We'll just have to see what's going on. But, Cyril and I won't pretend to be stupefied... stunned by trouble. Let's get out of here now." Snape got up suddenly and said gloomily.

"Leave through the main entrance? Or do you have any other options?" Sherlock asked calmly, but if you look closely at his expression, you can see the excitement in his eyes.

"Go to your room, at the top of your room, through the side window." Snape grabbed the suit from the chair and threw the backpack to Cyril.

"Pack up your things and set off right away. The water of life and death will take effect within half an hour, so they probably have to take action."

Sherlock opened the door first, looked around, then took out the key and opened the door of the next room.

Cyril stuffed the Niffler into the backpack twice, then turned into the next room, and Snape was the last one to come in and close the door.

As soon as they walked in, they heard heavy footsteps coming from the corridor.

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" From far to near.

Every time I feel like stepping on the heartbeat of three people.

Cyril dared to bet with the fortune in his arms that the person outside was definitely a big man with a build comparable to Hagrid.

"Quick." Snape mouthed silently, cast a one-way silence and warning spell on the door at an angle that Sherlock could not see, and then took the lead in opening a small window on the side wall.

Cyril was surprised that the dean still knew that this building had small windows on the side, and below it was a one-person-wide path between the two houses.Fortunately, the house next door has no windows on this side, so you can't see the scene here.

Snape probed down and looked down. The three-story building said it was tall or short, and it was all because of bringing a Muggle, so he couldn't just take Cyril to jump down.

The wizard is slandering inwardly, is it possible that he wants to follow the example of a stupid Muggle, tying curtains and sheets and moving down stupidly bit by bit?

"Boom! Boom! Boom!" The sound of footsteps getting closer, the sound of the key unlocking, the door next door was about to be pulled open.

"Clatter!" - the sound of the chain lock shaking, and the door opened.

"No one." A low, hoarse voice muffled.

"Where is the person?!" A sharp voice came, it was Old Terry.

Cyril had already started tearing the sheets on the bed.

"Come on, go to the next door to see! Did you go to that kid's room? You're definitely still here if you didn't go through the main entrance!" Old Trifork came here with a bunch of keys in his heart.

Cyril had barely torn a crumpled gray sheet off the bed.

The alarm spell that Snape had just cast began to flash red lights all over the door, indicating that an unknown "object" was approaching.

Snape frowned fiercely, and had no choice but to pull up the curtains on the wall angrily.

"I said... don't you guys know how to fly? Can't... take me with you?" Sherlock who was standing by the window and packed his things and backpack suddenly asked.

One sentence made the air in the whole room stagnate for a moment.