[Comprehensive] The Wizard and the Fugitive

William said this with a smile, and Watson also smiled, not taking it seriously.The topic went back to the case. Watson talked about the blank sheet of paper with no content and the murderer's accomplices, as if telling a suspenseful story. William listened with gusto, and made some conjectures of his own from time to time, looking very interested.

It's fun.

Sherlock looked at the two of them and thought of the word.When they first came to 220, these two people were also like this, talking and laughing in the kitchen to discuss the practice of Italian food.Now it seems that the two of them can chat if they change the subject.

Maybe Watson really needs a friend who loves to talk nonsense, Sherlock thought with a lack of interest, although William's interest at this time was mostly faking.This guy was not the kind of friend Watson wanted to play golf with on weekends and drop by after dinner with a bottle of Scotch.

Perhaps it's time to find a chance to mention Watson. Sherlock thought silently as he watched the two chat happily, but then thought that because of William's relationship, Watson rarely dated girls recently. Back to Baker Street by one o'clock.

It seems that making friends with William is not bad, at least it is better than falling in love with those girls who are full of romance.

"What are you thinking?"

Sherlock came back to find Draco staring at him.

"Case." He answered casually.

"Oh, I thought nothing was going on," Draco said dryly.

"Not yet."

"So there is still a discovery?"

Sherlock looked at Draco seriously: "Are you interested?"

"A little bit." Draco said pretending to be relaxed.Sherlock was looking at him, those eyes were too penetrating, and he began to regret taking the initiative to talk, for fear that he was eager and guilty.

William stood up at this time: "I almost forgot, I also made strawberry mousse."

"I'll get it." Draco said immediately, stood up impatiently, and almost ran into the kitchen.When he came back with the dessert, Sherlock didn't bring up the topic just now, which finally made him heave a sigh of relief.

The next day, London ushered in a rare sunny morning. With uncombed blond hair and freshly brewed coffee, William looked down from the window of the living room, his eyes seemed focused, yet careless.In his sight, a middle-aged woman was holding a letter in her hand, hovering at the door of 221b, and finally she seemed to have made a great determination, and as if getting rid of something that made her escape, she threw the letter into the door of 221b. In the mailbox, left in a hurry.

A few minutes later, Watson came out to get the newspaper and the letter. The letter, together with other entrustment letters, was put in the newspaper and brought into the gate of 221b.

William took a sip of his coffee and tapped his index finger on the window sill. The voice from the next door was heard clearly in his ears as if he had suddenly lost the cover of the wall.

He heard Watson throw the stack of entrustment letters on the table, then put on his coat and seemed ready to go out.

"What is this?" Sherlock's voice came.

"Today's entrustment letter."

Sherlock grumbled and complained of boredom, followed by the sound of letters being pushed away.

"I am leaving."

"Go to the police station, find Greg, and ask him to give me that paper."

"I am going to work."

"He's been around all day."

"Why don't you go by yourself?"

Sherlock didn't speak, and after a few seconds, Watson sighed in compromise: "Okay."

William smiled, watched the doctor next door go out, and hurried towards the subway entrance.

The sound of typing on the keyboard could be heard intermittently from the next door, as if Sherlock was looking up some information.

Maybe he was looking for clues to the shooting case, and even made some progress, William took a sip of coffee, thinking with some anticipation.

"Today's newspaper said that the murderer of the shooting was K, the best killer in the underground world." Draco waved the newspaper in his hand, interrupting William's messy thoughts.The news that was mentioned was right in the middle of the newspaper. There was a blurry surveillance photo. Below it was introduced that K was an American, from Ohio, 34 years old, and accompanied by a bloody love story.The orphan boy and the rich girl have disparity in status, and they are obstructed by their families.In the end, the girl married someone else, and the boy went away.

"This K, do you know him?"

"No." William raised his eyebrows, his eyes seemed to tolerate a child who lacked common sense.Draco is almost a child who lacks common sense at the moment, and Lucius and Narcissa's spare no effort to spoil him makes it take longer for him to adapt to the new life.

If it weren't for the fact that there was only one heir in this generation of the Malfoy family, William would have thought that the couple were playing a conspiracy of drowning.

"He's the best?" Draco raised an eyebrow.

"In a world accessible to ordinary journalists, maybe." William shrugged indifferently, drinking coffee slowly: "Have you finished your homework?"

"Not yet..." Draco replied weakly.The homework William said was to let him memorize all the spells in "Dark Spells", and said that this is the basis for every dark wizard, and he should be able to memorize them as early as 11 years old. Right now it's just tutoring.

William was dismissive of Lucius' way of raising him, but Draco was very grateful to his father for his tolerance.He is not as ruthless as most dark wizards, and he cannot learn the spells that require no mercy, which can be seen from the only mischievous fights between him and his nemesis Harry Potter. .

William must have found it hard to imagine that the only fatally offensive spell between him and Potter had come from Potter.

Draco didn't allow himself to immerse himself in the memory for too long, he pointed to a theater information in the literary section of the newspaper and said loudly: "There is an opera performance at the Royal Theater tonight."

"Oh?" William moved his lips carelessly.

"Uh...the wizarding world hasn't had opera performances for a long time, I haven't seen this one..." In fact, he has no interest in operas at all, he just wanted William to divert his attention and temporarily forget about the "Dark Spell" That's all.

"Really?" The tone was still lacking in interest.

Draco said the last sentence without hope: "Othello, are you interested?"

William raised his eyebrows, finally willing to come over and take a look.With one hand propped behind the sofa, he bent down to read the performance information in the newspaper, and he didn't seem to notice that the boy who happened to be in his arms became stiff all over.

"I thought you read it wrong." He said casually, the blond hair on his shoulders fell down and brushed Draco's neck, itching and soft, making him unconsciously retreat into the sofa.However, William didn't move just because he flinched back. The two of them had their heads pressed against their chins, and Draco could even clearly feel William's breathing.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

"It's a very classic opera, I just can't believe you haven't seen it. If that's the case, I'll have to give you something else besides magic."

It's really lifting a rock on your own feet!Draco thought with a toothache that he meant to make William forget about the teaching plan for a while, but instead added a new class to himself.

"There are so many things you need to learn. It's a good idea to start with the opera tonight." William put a hand on Draco's shoulder, straightened up and stepped back a little, those falling on Draco's neck The blond also left, making him quietly relieved.

"I'm going to book two tickets and go out early tonight. There's a nice French restaurant over there. Let's go there for dinner."

Opera performances in London, a city full of art, will undoubtedly attract a large number of audiences, and the signboard of the Royal Theater will always make the performance more famous, more expensive, and harder to get tickets.At 8:[-] in the evening, when William appeared at the entrance of the theater with Draco in a white dress, he saw several big names in Downing Street who could talk.

Draco's life-saving face was undoubtedly too beautiful, the white dress set off his aristocratic pale complexion and soft platinum-blond hair, and a slender waistline was full of seduction.His appearance attracted a lot of attention, but when those people saw clearly the crest on his dress, they immediately dispelled any thoughts they shouldn't have.

No one would want to provoke a Schiller.

William took Draco to find their place, and the person sitting next to them happened to be an acquaintance.William nodded with a smile: "Good evening, Mr. Holmes."

"Good evening, Your Excellency, it's a pleasure to meet you here." Mycroft's face was full of surprise and joy, the two exchanged a few words, and McCoff will bring several French officials who came with him Introduced to William.

Draco looked at them curiously.William had just called one of the men Mr. Holmes, which, if he remembered correctly, seemed to be the surname of the detective next door.

"This is Draco Malfoy, he lives with me." Just as Draco was thinking about things, the topic had already come to himself.William didn't make any further introductions. After saying something ambiguous like this, he wrapped his arms around the boy's waist.Draco reacted quickly, and immediately realized that William was acting, and leaned against him in cooperation.

In front of McCoff, the so-called hermit family's tricks are obviously not perfunctory. The best way is to say less and make less mistakes, half-truths and half-false, and let him find the answer by himself.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy." Sure enough, Mycroft glanced at Draco's beautiful and young face, only politely said hello, and then looked away.

"Who's that?" Draco whispered into William's ear after the opera started.

William turned his head and said close to his ear, "Sherlock's brother, Mycroft Holmes, a member of the British government."

The sound of the music overwhelmed the whispered conversation between the two, and the dim light made it difficult to see each other's expressions.Draco moved closer. "He doesn't look like Sherlock, I mean, our neighbor isn't much of an art admirer."

"Nor is he," William said, raising his eyebrows.McCoff appeared here to entertain the French. Of course, the possibility of "coincidentally meeting" his brother's neighbors was not ruled out.Who doesn't know that guy is a terrible brother-in-law, as long as he is around Sherlock, he has to use his privileges to investigate. Draco's blank file will definitely make him restless.

But now, Mycroft will probably think that everything is the fault of the Schiller family.

William turned his head slightly, just in time to see Mycroft also turned his head slightly, looking at this side, he smiled, and hugged Draco's body that was too close.The boy was stunned for a moment, then his face turned red, and he tried to break free as if he had been electrocuted, but William held him firmly in his arms.

In the darkness, no one spoke, only Draco's rapid breathing rang in the ears of the two.

They hugged for only a few seconds, and after Mycroft looked away, William let go of his hand, but Draco felt as if it had been a long century, and just felt the strength in his waist relax, and immediately bounced back Sitting upright in my own position, looking forward, I stammered an apology: "Yes, I'm sorry, I didn't notice just now, that's why..."

"It's okay." William raised the corners of his mouth and lightly shook Draco's clenched fist: "I'm taking you to the opera, don't ask about Mr. Holmes any more."

Compared with the excitement of the Royal Theater, Baker Street is much quieter.When Watson came back from get off work at the clinic, he saw the light on 221b from a distance.On a humid London night with rain, the light that symbolized home and warmth was delightful.

"It's so late today," complained Mrs. Hudson, who opened the door for him, with a smile.

"A troublesome patient came when I got off work." Watson explained, "Where's Sherlock?"

"He's upstairs and hasn't made a sound all afternoon. I really don't know what he's doing."

Watson walked upstairs quickly, opened the door, and saw Sherlock sitting upright in front of the computer, like a sculpture.He put the evidence bag with white paper on the table: "Here you are."

Sherlock just glanced down and pushed it away. "Look at this." He pushed the computer in front of Watson: "These cases were all shot, and the victims all received such a blank sheet of paper before they died."

"Wait! This is the FBI's internal files, what are you doing this afternoon!"

Sherlock pretended not to hear, and continued: "These cases were done by the same person. Every time before, he did it cleanly, except for a piece of inexplicable blank paper, leaving no trace, making it impossible for people to get started. But This time, he brought a rookie, why do you think?"

Watson thought for a while, then shook his head: "I don't know."

Sherlock smiled. "I think maybe he wants an apprentice."