Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

The contents of the envelope are not thick, it looks like there is only one sheet of paper.

But this time, Sherlock, who had fallen into a fantasy life without shame and no shame, woke up.

He didn't pay attention to the letter that fell on the ground for the first time, but looked up at the owl hovering above his head with wide eyes, thinking uncertainly in his heart.

Training owls to deliver letters?

Is this a traditional custom among British nobles?

Like the ancient Chinese flying pigeon biography?

After all, he was not an expert in studying foreign history and customs. Without trying to understand the reason, Sherlock shook his head and bent over to pick up the letter on the ground.

When the owl saw that he had the letter, it stopped lingering in the sky.

Because it didn't get the reward of food, it glanced at Sherlock, who looked a little stunned, and then flapped its wings and went to the nearby woods to catch mice.

Of course, Sherlock didn't know what the owl was thinking. He was frowning and studying the letter in his hand.

The envelope was made of heavy parchment, the address was written in emerald green ink, and there was no stamp on it.

[Mr. Sherlock Forrest, 13 Magnolia Road, Surrey]

The name on the address was Sherlock himself. He turned the letter over and saw a wax seal and a coat of arms on the front.

The capital "H" is surrounded by a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake.

The emblem composed of four animals looked unexpectedly familiar, but Sherlock couldn't remember where he had seen this emblem.

Knocking on his head, he shook his head, not in a hurry to open the envelope as soon as possible, but held it and the will in his hand, intending to go to the house to talk about it.

The key to the door and the key to the house were strung together and returned to him by the hospital along with his other personal belongings when he was discharged.

The rusted door made a screeching noise as it opened.

The yard was overgrown with weeds, and he liked to look neat and tidy, and Sherlock, who was slightly obsessive, frowned.

But of course he didn't have the time to take care of it at this time, and walked directly along the path surrounded by weeds, all the way to the front of the house.

Just when he continued to use the door key to open the door, a long "squeak" sound suddenly sounded from the old wooden door.

Sherlock didn't even have time to insert the key into the keyhole, and the dilapidated door opened by itself.

He was stunned on the spot, feeling inexplicably as if a cold wind was blowing by his side.

As an outstanding youth cultivated by Huaxia's nine-year compulsory education and seven years of high-quality education, Sherlock was a standard materialist in his previous life.

Although there was a bizarre event that made him travel to the past and possessed a soul that could not be explained by science at all, but for a while, his thoughts had not changed.

Haunted house?

Sherlock shook his head and smiled.

How can there be ghosts in this world?

Just like adults use magic to deceive children, ghosts are just fantasy products made up by adults to deceive other adults.

It must be that the door was not closed before, and a gust of wind just happened to blow it open.

Having found a scientific reason, given ample excuses, and received appropriate comfort, Sherlock pushed the door open and walked into the house as if nothing had happened.

In marked contrast to the clutter in the yard, the living room of the house is surprisingly neat.

But the overall environment in the room was a little darker.

The sky is clear and clear outside, but there is not a few rays of sunlight that can shine in the house, making it look like a medieval castle with a depressing atmosphere.

Sherlock put the will and envelope on the shoe cabinet beside him.

Then he took off his coat and was about to throw it on the sofa, but suddenly found that, at some point, there was a coat hanger beside him.

He stopped the movement of his hands and looked suspiciously at the clothes hanger that was just a step away from him on his right.

Just now, this thing is here?

Of course, it was just a simple suspicion. From the beginning, Sherlock's attention had been on the furnishings in the living room, and he didn't pay too much attention to whether there were hangers by the door.

He hung his coat on the hanger and walked into the living room with his will and letters.

And just after he turned around and entered the room, the hanger hanging on his coat suddenly seemed to come alive, moving its position silently, returning to the inconspicuous corner from the front of the door.

Sherlock, with his back to it, was unaware of its actions.

After he entered the room, he first checked all the rooms in the house.

Except for the poor lighting, this is a very ordinary and clean house.

It's just that the owner's taste is a bit retro, and the furniture in the house is mostly European medieval style, coupled with the dark environment here.

It makes people feel that this is not a modern residential house, but a dark fortress of some medieval lord.

But aside from these, this house just looks a bit shabby from the outside. uukanshu. The facilities in the com are perfect and the space is large. The living area on the first floor and the rest area on the second floor are perfectly separated.

For someone like Sherlock, who had the ultimate goal in his previous life, he didn't dare to expect to have such a suite.

Even without the legacy of that cheap father, this suite alone made him lucky enough.

However, just as he was checking the bedroom on the second floor, a strange door at the end of the hallway on the second floor caught Sherlock's attention.

It was a gray-black wooden door. If it wasn't intentional to stare in this direction, combined with the dark environment in the house, it would not be easy for ordinary people to find this door.

Moreover, the whole door is bare, except that there is no pattern, not even the door handle.

If Sherlock hadn't inadvertently noticed the metal hinge connecting the door to the wall, he would have even subconsciously ignored the room.

Up to now, he has not noticed anything wrong, and this strange door has also been attributed to the strange hobby of his original body.

Just like when he renovated his home into an "old witch's secret base".

Partly out of wanting to have a thorough understanding of where he will live in the future, and partly out of curiosity, Sherlock stood in front of the door, stretched out his hand and gently pushed the wooden door without a doorknob.

The door was pushed open a tiny gap, revealing a soft warm yellow light from inside.

At the same time, a sharp female voice suddenly screamed from behind the door.

"Xia! Luo! Ke!"

The unsuspecting Sherlock was taken a few steps backwards by the scream, his back was close to the wall, and the hair on his body exploded!

In this room...

someone!