[Comprehensive] The Wizard and the Fugitive

Muggles.

It can be seen from the address that wizards treat ordinary people with a high level of superiority in their bones.Hundreds of years ago, the upsurge of witch hunts drove wizards to a desperate situation and had to hide, and wizard villages such as Hogsmeade came into being.However, even so, wizards still regard Muggles as weak. In today's era when wizards' magical power is far inferior to that of the Big Four, and Muggle technology is developing rapidly, this inexplicable self-confidence is even more exaggerated than in any era.

"Especially in England." William stood at the door of 220 with a large paper bag in one hand, motioning for Draco to open the door?There was a bit of casual sarcasm in his tone: "The greatest white wizard of this century and the Dark Lord who tried to destroy Muggles?"

Draco pouted, thinking of the great achievements of the Dark Lord, and feeling that William took Muggles too seriously. 800 meters is not too far. If it is the Dark Lord or William himself, he can definitely easily do what the gun does, and it looks more beautiful.

They went upstairs one after the other, and William put the paper bag on the dining table and slowly put the things in order. "Are you thinking that I take Muggles too seriously?" He glanced at Draco and continued, "I'll take you to North Africa in two days to see what a real Muggle war is like. The first lesson of my apprenticeship, getting to know Muggles correctly."

apprentice?Draco froze in the living room, staring stupidly at the kitchen wall.They did mention the apprenticeship, but wasn't that an excuse to deal with Sherlock?

"What's the problem?" William's voice came from the other side of the wall.

Draco came back to his senses and immediately said, "No! No."

"Very good." William threw the empty bag into the trash can and came to Draco: "According to the rules of the Schiller family, the mentor will give the apprentice a welcome gift. What do you want?"

"whatever?"

"whatever."

This is a very tempting answer.Draco knew that there was very little in the world that Schiller couldn't do.What was difficult for him was nothing more than a breeze for William.Like getting revenge on those damned Ministry of Magic officials, like reviving the Malfoy family, like settling his status as a fugitive.

For a moment, Lucius receiving the kiss from the dementor, Narcissa crying, and the indifferent faces in the Wizengamot court all came to mind.The faces of those people who were eager to get down and down were so disgusting, Draco remembered how his mother begged in a low voice in front of them, but only received hypocritical sympathy and cynicism, those people who were rushing to curry favor with them at the ball in Malfoy Manor were all far away Dodge far away, for fear of being involved.

Now, there is an excellent opportunity...

Draco shook his head, his eyes fell on the direction of the cloakroom, what he wanted was in William's coat pocket.

"I want that rifle."

"Are you sure?" William asked, his voice low and seductive: "I can say anything."

Draco nodded.

William smiled and looked at Draco intently with amber eyes: "Well, it's yours."

……

The next morning, when William went downstairs to get the newspaper, he saw yesterday's murder written in huge red letters on the front page, with photos and detailed descriptions of the deceased under the headline.The doctor next door also came out to get a newspaper at this time, and it could be seen that he had just woken up not long ago, and his hair was still messy.

"Good morning, William... Oh! Shooting... The law and order in London is not very good recently." Watson flipped through a few pages and complained in a non-serious manner.

William smiled: "Sixty floors, one-shot death, this kind of death can only be enjoyed by big people."

"That's right." Watson deliberately made a dangerous expression on William: "You have to be careful, Your Excellency." William raised his hands cooperatively, and the two laughed together.

They chatted a few more words, and then went home and closed the door.William started making coffee for himself and Draco, roasted tomatoes and bacon, sausage and bread were already on the table, alone and ignored.He glanced at the living room, where the boy was still trying to figure out what to do with a table of parts.After getting the gun, Draco took it apart excitedly and curiously just like when he got the first broom, but the parts that covered a whole table were much more complicated than the broom, which made him completely unaware How to put it back.William had been waiting for him to ask for help, but he didn't expect Draco to be more stubborn than expected, and he still refused to give up.

Watson next door was also bothering about breakfast, but what he had to do was much simpler. He only needed to bring the finished product Mrs. Hudson put in the kitchen upstairs.

"Sherlock, don't bother with the newspapers, come over for breakfast." He put the tray on the table in the dining room, thought for a while, then walked to the living room with the tray, placed it directly in front of the detective, and looked at the unresponsive roommate He coughed hard.

Sherlock raised his head: "Are you sick?"

Watson pointed to the breakfast on the table with his eyes: "Do I want to feed it into your mouth?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, took a piece of toast from the plate, and continued staring at the newspaper.

"What's in the newspaper?" Watson asked with a frown. He had already flipped through everything just now, and there should be nothing that could interest Sherlock.

"Hitman."

Watson raised his eyebrows: "Isn't it a vendetta? Or something like V Stranger? That old guy has always been very controversial."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "It's not a novel! And I thought it was obvious in the papers. There's nothing Greg can do about it. The guy's a veteran. I guess his price must be quite expensive."

Watson ate his breakfast in silence with a wooden face.Well, it's obvious!He punched the detective's long face hard in the heart.

The London police's ability to handle the case was just as Sherlock expected. Three days later, Officer Greg, who had no clues, knocked on the door of 221b Baker Street again, and took Sherlock and Watson to the scene of the crime with a look of reluctance.

Sherlock walked around the meeting room, and finally came to the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking down at London below him.

"How?" Greg couldn't help asking.

"He's a master, I think it couldn't be more obvious." Sherlock rolled his eyes and said, "Why don't you take me to the sniper spot to see."

Greg rubbed his face, barely suppressing the irritability caused by staying up all night: "Next. It's there." He pointed to another building two blocks away.

"Let's go, what are you waiting for." Sherlock turned around immediately, blowing out of the meeting room like the wind.

The opponent this time is extraordinary, and Sherlock is ready, but the clues left by the sniper point are even less than he expected.The man was very careful, no footprints, no fingerprints, and no cigarette butts like some scavengers do.Sherlock remained silent, squatting on the ground lost in thought, Greg could only spin like a spinning top, glanced at Sherlock who was squatting almost like a statue from time to time, wishing to pounce on him immediately, grabbing his collar and forcing him to name the murderer name.Fortunately, Watson happened to be on the top of the building at this time, interrupting Greg's mania. "I saw William on the surveillance camera just now." He sighed.

"Oh?" Sherlock moved his mouth casually.

"He went to the 12th floor to order clothes for Draco. I think it's extravagant to think that there are more than 3 floors here."

"Nobleman!" Greg's irritability was immediately transferred to his credit card bill, and the few police officers who had seen William also stopped paying attention to Mr. Schiller, who was full of inferiority complex, out of a subtle psychology.

"There won't be any clues in the surveillance." Sherlock said, "This is a professional killer...the perfect professional killer...should be very expensive. Greg, do you know anyone in London who will pay a lot of money to hire a killer to deal with the victim? "

Greg sighed: "Our victim is not a likable character, I will find out who among the people who want his life can afford a high price... Oh yes! The victim died before It's kind of weird to show a terrified expression at a blank piece of paper, I don't know if it counts as a clue."

Sherlock nodded: "There is still a little more." He finally stood up and took two steps forward.If Draco had been here, he would have been surprised to find that he had been in this position to have watched William pull the trigger a few days earlier.Sherlock tapped the ground with his feet: "There was still someone here at the time, and he brought a rookie."

A blank piece of paper and a mysterious rookie, this is all the findings so far, and there is almost no clue to solve the case.In the past, this kind of difficult case would always make Sherlock so excited that he couldn't sleep, but today he is very calm, which is abnormal.

"The case is not going well?" At the dining table, William looked at Sherlock who was eating seriously for the first time, and asked casually.Draco, who was sitting next to him, was taken aback by the question, and his body froze.

Sherlock raised his eyelids and glanced at him: "Are you nervous?"

"Of course! I was there when he killed!" Draco said excitedly, his fork making an ugly noise against the plate.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I won't catch him."

Watson looked over unexpectedly: "You said you couldn't catch him?"

"I can't catch him, for now." Sherlock said, putting down the knife and fork: "Look, Greg can find a lot of rich people who want the old man's life, and even if I can find an employer from among them, the guy will not be able to catch him." He definitely doesn't know the true face of the murderer."

Watson thought for a while: "We can at least catch the employer?"

"We have no evidence to support the conclusion of a professional killer. The jury will not convict based on reasoning alone. Those fools who have no brains, even if the facts are in front of them, they can't see clearly."

William always maintained an elegant smile: "I quite like the current results. Your victims have blocked a lot of business from the Schiller family in the past few years, and we are not the only family that is dissatisfied with him."

Watson was frightened by William's indifference, he stammered and said, "But, but he won't die for this. I mean, it's just business, isn't it?"

William smiled. "Dear doctor, you think so because you don't know what business I'm talking about. Don't pity him, or the people who died because of him will be unhappy."

"What do you mean?"

"No one is clean who would provoke a professional scavenger."

Watson was silent for a while, and suddenly came up with an unreliable guess: "The employer can't be you, William."

William laughed and shook his head: "Of course it's not me. If I want someone's life, I won't bother others to do it."