[Comprehensive] Sherlock's Secret

Su Fu smiled: "Obviously you have made a decision—I can assure you that you know what I did on St. Mary's Street."

"Not very clear." Mycroft resumed his reserved, gentle and elegant smile, "It's just that the clerk of your government came to inform that one of their very capable... Hidden danger, and Miss Frank happened to be here that night."

The Ministry of Magic again...

Su Fu waved his hand annoyedly: "Since you know everything very well, there is nothing to say. Let me tell you the truth, I moved to Baker Street because another reaper had tried to seize Sherlock's body several times—— Presumably you already know very well how the parasitic worm survives, and Sherlock, no matter how high his IQ is, he can't fight and escape a mature reaper, so if you don't want your brother to become a puppet controlled by the virus Monster, please don't interfere with me."

Mycroft was silent for a moment, and said half-truth, "Miss Frank is really kind to Sherlock."

Su Fu said sarcastically, "It's better than you."

"As far as I know," Mycroft said slowly, "Your government is also trying to eliminate these hidden dangers. I don't know where Miss Frank belongs to?"

Su Fu raised his eyebrows and looked at him for a while before saying, "I don't belong to any party."

Mycroft's expression was a little strange: "So, Miss Frank went to pursue and eliminate the mutants entirely out of a sense of justice in her heart?"

Su Fu was startled, choked by him, speechless.

Justice is Proteus that floats on the bottom of the water. She also pursued it persistently, but she didn't know how to judge what happened afterwards.

She coughed twice: "it's not important, if you finish talking, I'm leaving."

"No, no, of course I didn't finish," Mycroft said, "I said it at the beginning. I came here to find Miss Frank today to discuss Sherlock's affairs."

"What kind of negotiation law?"

"We all know that the 'murderer' in this dismemberment case is unusual, and Sherlock is obsessed with finding the perpetrator and the truth, this case will definitely not come to fruition—"

Su Fu raised his eyebrows again: "So?"

Mycroft showed a thoughtful smile: "So..."

……

After half an hour.

Su Fu looked at McCoff with complicated eyes: "...Mr. Holmes, I take back what I just said about you not being a competent brother."

"I'm so pleased," Mycroft said calmly, "I'll trouble Miss Frank for help."

Su Fu nodded slowly: "It should be... But have you ever considered that if one day Sherlock finds out the truth——"

"Winful deception will benefit his growth." Mycroft said, "So, is it convenient to leave a contact information?"

"You're welcome, you must have saved all my contact information in your phone."

Mycroft smiled: "One last thing, I would be very happy if Miss Frank would tell me about Sherlock on a regular basis."

Su Fu: "..."

She wants to send out the retracted words just now!

She said viciously: "If Mr. Holmes is used to me sending letters with an owl, or if he suddenly appears in your fireplace, or if he is willing to have a relationship with a witch—oh, I know you don't want to say this word—the witch's guardian The words of God's conversation..."

Mycroft finally showed a puzzled and vigilant look on his face: "Patron saint?"

Su Fu tilted his head and smiled at him as a signal, then turned and left, walked a few steps and suddenly pulled out his magic wand and waved: "Expecto Patronum (calling God to guard)!"

A huge silver Newfoundland white wolf roared and galloped through the air, and in an instant it was in front of McCoff. His pupils shrank slightly, and he immediately took a few steps back with his black umbrella.

There was a light rattling sound all around, Su Fu knew it was the sound of a gun being loaded, she turned her head and smiled: "That's it, would Mr. Holmes want to see it every day?"

After speaking, she walked briskly out of the factory.

……

She still went to Diagon Alley.

There were not many people in the Leaky Cauldron at this time, and Old Tom, whose head looked like a wrinkled walnut, was standing behind the bar, slowly wiping a few goblets, and when he saw someone coming in, he looked up slowly He glanced down and lowered his head again, as if realizing something, suddenly raised his head again, his voice hoarse and terrified: "Lai——Miss Frank!"

Pai Su Fu has long been used to his behavior. Obviously she is not a dementor, but old Tom has lived for many years and has seen many things that young people never know. The past has long been drowned in dust, but some remaining memories, But it never fades away.

She can't change anything.

Su Fu's tone was helpless and cold: "Please prepare two bottles of mead for me, I'll come and get them later."

She took out two silver Sickles and put them on the bar, Old Tom said tremblingly: "You don't have to—"

Su Fu had already turned around and went to the backyard.

She changed the lapel windbreaker into a wizard's robe, and then knocked twice on the third brick from the left above the trash can, and the pale blue bricks began to move, and finally an arched doorway appeared.

It's not the school season now, and the weather today is not good. Diagon Alley's cobblestone-paved streets meander into the depths. From time to time, scattered wizards come and go in and out of the shops on both sides. On the glass of the store, occasionally someone whispered, pointing to the wanted notice pasted on the wall by the Ministry of Magic.

The atmosphere is not very good.

Su Fu subconsciously put his hand into the pocket of his robe, and held the wand.

When she walked to Ollivander, she hesitated for a moment, and finally pushed the door open.

There seemed to be no one in the shop.

Su Fu shook the old and mottled copper bell, and a soft voice came from inside: "Someone came to buy a magic wand before the time?"

"No," Su Fu said loudly, "I just came to ask you something."

Ollivander came down from the high ladder, he bent his back, his silver eyes looked like two chaotic moons in the dark storefront: "It's amazing, Miss Leichter, even after so many years, I still remember very much. Clear—oh, eleven and one-third inches long, very precious silver fir, thestral feather core, I remember every wand I've ever sold . . . "

"Your memory has always been astonishingly good, and——I'm Frank," Su Fu said dryly, "I'm here today to ask, since the wand can channel and regulate the magic power of wizards, besides the wand, Are there any other utensils... um, that can hold a wizard's magic?"

"Magic props have always existed in the world, and have been used by wizards for various purposes..."

"No, no, you often say, 'It's not the wizard who chooses the wand, it's the wand who chooses the wizard', so in a sense, the wand has its own independent thoughts? Other magic tools, such as a book Will the specially made book have its own independent thought just like the magic wand?"

"Oh Miss Frank," Ollivander laughed inscrutablely, "Your understanding is biased, the wand does not have independent thinking, every wizard comes, he is destined to have a wand, not so much the wand Choose a wizard, rather than a wand looking for a wizard, they are all destined."

Su Fu was confused. No wonder she had only met Ollivander, a wand maker, in so many years. This nima is so knowledgeable that normal people wouldn't catch a cold, okay?

"You just need to go back to me. Is it possible for other magic tools to have independent thoughts because of the wizard's magic?"

Ollivander blurted out: "This is impossible, magic tools are not magical creatures, how could they have independent thoughts?"

"I think so too..." Su Fu said wrinkledly.

But actually, Tom Riddle, he did it.

That diary not only has its own thoughts, but is also incredibly smart, can talk and lie, like a holographic projection, it's almost like going to heaven.

Coming out of the wand shop, Su Fu felt that the weather seemed to be getting worse again. The Sirius in the wanted poster on the wall roared silently, looking extremely ferocious.

She bought a few bottles of the dark green ink she used in the stationery store, and when she paid for it, she saw the color-changing ink on the shelf labeled "New arrival, as beautiful as a rainbow", so she bought another bottle of color-changing ink.

Although she didn't like this fancy ink very much, it would be nice to buy it back and play tricks on Sherlock. Watch him experiment with a dropper beaker and a triangular bottle to analyze why the magic ink changes color... Well, it seems very interesting.

Going forward is a pharmacy and a dorami owl shop, all kinds of rustling, low, high-pitched chirping and flapping sounds can be heard endlessly, Su Fu raised his eyebrows, and then walked into this shop with an old-fashioned smile.

==

"Hey Sherlock, I've brought you a new friend!"

Sherlock's slender body was curled up on the sofa, facing inward, and he didn't move when he heard her voice, and said listlessly: "Coffee shops, Charing Cross Road, bars with a decadent smell, flower and bird market... Sue, Your itinerary today is really rich and varied."

"It's Su, not Su Yi." Su Fu corrected him.

"Whatever," Sherlock buried his curly head in the sofa pillow, "Michael Smith's social relations are as simple as his sad little head, and his widowed middle school teacher mother has been emphasizing—"

He changed his tone into a shrill, hysterical voice, "'Mike is a good, gentle boy, and he won't feud with anyone'—and yet the irony is that no one who has spoken to him in a year has even More than ten, so who broke through the window in the middle of the night and killed him, and took part of his body..."

Su Fu put down the package in his hand, and said calmly: "There is always no reason to commit a crime."

"Oh Sue—"

"Thank you, Sue."

"How can there be no reason for a crime? Zoe, can you use your brain, you were a bit smarter yesterday..."

"IQ is owed, I forgot to rush when I went out today," Su Fu went over and poked him on the shoulder, "Don't worry about the case, as I said, I brought you a new friend—"

"It's a stupid stupid bird, it's useless to keep it in a glass enclosure except to show off its head—" He turned his head, and the unfinished words suddenly got stuck in his throat.

Because the nearly half-meter-high arched iron cage in Su Fu's hand contained not what he had imagined—the so-called orioles or parrots with colorful and colorful feathers, but a snow-white feather. The edges of the wings are as black as ink, the eyes are as sharp as jewels, and the beak is sharp... an owl.

Sherlock: "..."

The author has something to say: I saw a girl in the comment area asking about Su’s age, so I’ll give you an inoculation in advance. She lived a relatively long time... I won’t say how long because it involves spoilers, but of course she looks very young , Yan value is a must.

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