It's just a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Chapter 100 Going out to relax
While the car was driving, Sherlock took the initiative to ask.

"How is his health?"

The old housekeeper sitting in front said with a smile.

"Master's condition has improved. Although he still needs to be taken care of by professional medical staff, at least he won't be as life-threatening as before."

Sherlock nodded slightly.

Rich people don't die so easily, especially in a country like Britain.

The old butler glanced at Sherlock hesitantly, and he asked cautiously.

"Master, how is your memory recovery?"

"I can already remember some things."

"You want to see the master this time, are you ready to agree to his request?"

Sherlock didn't answer, but spoke softly.

"Let's talk about it when we meet."

The old butler was not inquiring, but he could tell from Sherlock's attitude that he didn't seem to want to compromise with his father, so he could only sigh helplessly.

The car drove from Devon to a large private hospital in London, and then the old butler led Sherlock into a small single-family building in the corner of the hospital.

This three-storey villa, which was three times bigger than where Sherlock lived, was the private ward where the Duke of Devonshire, Sherlock's biological father, lived.

They walked up to the second floor. Sherlock's father lived in the master bedroom on the second floor, and the third floor was where the medical staff who took care of him lived 24 hours a day.

The old butler took Sherlock to the door of the room, stood outside the door, and let him in alone.

Without hesitation, Sherlock pushed open the door.

The room was large, comparable to the living room of Sherlock's house, but after entering the door, his eyes fell on the haggard middle-aged man lying on the hospital bed.

Victor William Spencer Cavendish, the current No.11 Duke of Devonshire.

He didn't look very old, but he was terribly thin.

The pale skin is tightly attached to the bones, as if there is no muscle connection in the middle.

But even after he became like this, he could still see his handsome appearance. If he hadn't become like this due to illness, he would still be an extremely handsome man.

The original owner's appearance was obviously more similar to his father's, both blond and blue-eyed.

Victor saw Sherlock walk in, their eyes met, neither of them spoke first.

After about ten seconds, the middle-aged man lying on the bed spoke first.

"A year ago, I heard that you accidentally fell from the second floor and lost your memory?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Some things were forgotten at the time, but some things were not forgotten."

"I asked Brad to send you the will agreement. Why did you not find me until today after a whole year?" Victor's tone was very severe, as if he was asking.

Brad was the name of the old butler, Sherlock didn't hide it, he told the truth.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry approved my application for a professorship, and I went there as a teacher for a year."

After hearing what Sherlock said, Victor's expression suddenly became very bad.

He seemed to be squeezing out of his teeth one sound at a time.

"You! Are you hanging out with those wizards again?"

Sherlock frowned, he found that Victor's reaction was much more intense than he imagined.

"I am a wizard myself, besides my mother she"

"Shut up! Don't mention her in front of me!"

Victor suddenly flew into a rage, and then he began to cough violently, and soon the old housekeeper named Brad rushed into the ward with the doctor.

"Get out! Let him get out! He won't want to inherit my things in this life! Go hang out with those weird people! Never show up in front of me again!"

Brad pulled Sherlock's arm, persuading him and pulling him out of the room.

Outside the ward, Old Brad sighed: "Master, you haven't seen each other for several years, you shouldn't provoke him like this as soon as you meet."

Sherlock looked at old Brad, he frowned and asked.

"Did my father hate my mother too?"

Brad shook his head: "It wasn't like this before. At that time, your grandfather hadn't passed away. When the master was still the young master, he ran home excitedly saying that he had found true love. Your grandfather asked him to bring that girl home. He said the person he liked would not be willing to be a canary in a cage."

His eyes were full of memories, and he said with emotion.

"I still clearly remember his happy look at that time. He said that the girl had great ambitions, and they were going to do a big business in another place. After that, he disappeared from home for a few years, and when he came back, he was like Changed as a person."

"He inherited your grandfather's title and family property, and no one is allowed to mention his past. He became irritable and irritable. He liked to be alone in a daze, and then tortured himself painfully."

He sighed: "Later, his physical condition became worse and worse. Only then did we know that he still has a son like you."

Sherlock's frown deepened, and from Brad's words, he seemed to hear some insider information about the past.

"Give the master some time to recuperate and rest, young master." Brad persuaded him, "Don't irritate him anymore, his condition has begun to improve, and you can talk about it after he gets better. Bar."

Sherlock nodded. He came here just to find out what the original owner's father's attitude was towards wizards.

At present, his attitude can be regarded as clear at a glance.

Sherlock declined Brad's offer to send someone to send him back, and walked out of the hospital alone, walking aimlessly on the streets of London.

Although Sherlock is not the real son of the original owner's parents, he can now understand why the original owner has such a withdrawn character.

A mother who constantly abuses and insults herself, and a father who hates his favorite magic.

Neither of them even assumed responsibility for his upbringing.

Sherlock shook his head and smiled, he felt sorry for the original owner.

In such a family environment, it is extremely rare for him not to grow crooked, and to develop in a bad direction.

No wonder the Weasleys, Kingsley, and Professor McGonagall care so much about him.

Randomly found a hidden alley, Sherlock used Apparition, and went straight back to his study.

He sat on the chair and stared at the portrait covered by the red cloth in a daze for a while.

When he came back to his senses, he blinked at the portrait, and the piece of red silk flew up from the portrait of the original owner's mother, Sally Forrest.

Before the curse of the witch in the portrait started, Sherlock spoke first.

"I'm going to go out and relax."

Sally froze suddenly, as if she hadn't expected Sherlock to say this suddenly.

But Sherlock didn't care about her reaction, he said to himself.

"Your story seems a bit too sad, which makes me feel a little bad now, so going out for a few days is a good choice."

"You still want to hang out! Disgusting thing! Trash!."

As soon as Sally came back to her senses, as soon as she started to scold, Sherlock put the red silk cloth on the portrait again, covering her voice.

Then he stretched and stood up from the chair, and lightly hooked his fingers to his desk drawer, the drawer opened by itself, and at the same time, two letters flew out of it and slipped into Sherlock's pocket .

He walked out of the study room, the door of the bedroom opened by itself, a few changes of clothes and daily necessities were folded neatly by himself, and then flew into the suitcase.

When Sherlock walked into the living room, the suitcase floated to the door, waiting for its owner to take it away.

Sherlock didn't wear a wizard's robe, but a regular summer suit in the Muggle world, with a light long trench coat outside.

After everything was ready, he opened the door and walked towards No. 4 Privet Drive.

4 Privet Drive.

In the place where the famous Harry Potter in the wizarding world lives every day, his aunt and uncle's house.

Harry's uncle, the unusually fat Vernon Dursley, answered the phone with a grunt.

"I'm Vernon Dursley."

Harry, who happened to be in the room at the moment, froze when he heard Ron's voice answer.

"Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? I'm looking for Harry Potter!"

Ron yelled, and Uncle Vernon, startled, held the receiver a full foot away from his ear, staring with a look of fury and horror.

"Who are you?" he yelled in the direction of the receiver, "Who are you?"

"Ron Weasley!" Ron roared back not to be outdone, as if shouting to Uncle Vernon on the other side of the football field, "I'm a friend from Harry's school!"

Uncle Vernon's small eyes turned to Harry, who stood rooted to the ground.

"There's no Harry Potter here!" he roared, now holding the receiver at arm's length from him, as if afraid it might explode, "I don't know what school you're talking about! No more Call me! Hear no bastards!"

He threw the receiver back onto the phone as if he were throwing a venomous spider.

Then he turned his furious eyes to Harry.

"How dare you give your phone number to someone like you!" Uncle Vernon yelled, spattering Harry all over the face.

Ron was clearly getting Harry into trouble, but Harry didn't care one bit.

He was already used to the Dursleys' attitude towards him.

In Hogwarts, he was one of the heroes who cracked the secret of the Chamber of Secrets and defeated the Basilisk, but these things had no effect on his life in the Dursleys. Harry was always the type of person they hated the most .

"Go and wash your socks! We'll give you food and clothing, not for you to eat at home!"

Harry nodded perfunctorily.

"Okay, I see, let's go now."

Just as he turned to wash the Dursleys' smelly socks, the doorbell rang suddenly.

　Sorry, I was too excited to sleep last night. This chapter was updated a little late. The next two chapters are all [-]-word chapters. By the way, I will make up the [-] owed yesterday.

　　Also, edg is awesome! ! !
　　
　
(End of this chapter)