Chapter 401: Do You Think This Is an Insult? (4k)

Chapter 401: Do You Think This Is an Insult? (4k)

Sherlock used Apparition to bring Draco to a hidden alley.

It was clearly a Muggle city. Through the alley, they could see many Muggles strolling along the street.

"What are we doing here?"

Draco asked curtly.

He certainly didn't think Sherlock had brought him here to investigate anything related to the Death Eaters. Lucius's reputation was well-known, and while he hadn't officially appeared in the conflicts between the Death Eaters and the Aurors, no one could fail to see the connection between him and Voldemort.

As Lucius's son, Draco had been deeply influenced by his family's values. Even if Sherlock were as foolish as they come, he wouldn't involve Draco in any actions against the Death Eaters.

"Just follow me, relax a little. We're not going to a torture chamber; you can consider this a regular outing."

Sherlock said this as he led Draco out onto the street.

This was a small city in England with a modest population, but it had well-developed infrastructure.

Draco seemed to be experiencing a Muggle city for the first time. He felt a natural aversion to everything around him but was also curious, especially when he saw the glowing signs in the shop windows along the street.

Even when they went to Diagon Alley in London to buy school supplies, Lucius always took him either by Floo Powder or Apparition, and they never properly explored the Muggle streets of London.

Because Lucius held Muggle things in contempt, Draco, influenced by his father, also found them repulsive.

However, Draco was only 16 years old, an age when most people are just starting high school and are naturally curious about their surroundings.

Sherlock didn't pay much attention to Draco's mood as he led the way, observing the shops around them. He soon chose a target.

It was a men's clothing store, lit with warm yellow lights.

Even before they entered, Draco showed a subconscious resistance.

"Are you buying clothes for someone, and that person is a Muggle? Are we going to visit a Muggle next?"

"No, you're overthinking it. I want you to change into a new set of clothes", Sherlock said casually.

Draco's expression became even more disdainful and repulsed.

"Me? I will never wear Muggle clothing! It's an insult to pure-bloods!"

Draco's robes had already attracted the attention of several passersby. However, given his age and the rebellious aura he exuded, most people assumed he was just another teenager trying to stand out, perhaps in some wizarding cosplay. While it caused some attention, it didn't create a significant stir.

Sherlock looked at him calmly.

"Don't forget our agreement before we came here. I won't harm you and will ensure your safety, but you need to follow my arrangements in certain matters. Or do you actually enjoy being stared at like a monkey on display?"

Draco averted his gaze after just a two-second stare-down with Sherlock.

From a young age, Lucius had instilled in him the idea of Voldemort's invincibility and power. Despite Lucius's opportunistic nature, he still held a basic respect for Voldemort, both publicly and privately. This had instilled a sense of awe in Draco from a young age.

After Sherlock stabbed Voldemort in front of a group of Aurors and Death Eaters last semester, some of that awe had unconsciously shifted to Sherlock. Draco hadn't realized this himself until he was in Sherlock's presence.

Draco gritted his teeth and, without further resistance, followed Sherlock into the men's clothing store.

The shop owner was a distinguished middle-aged woman who greeted them warmly. Upon learning that Draco needed to pick out clothes, she immediately recommended a few options.

Sherlock didn't bother to choose, just letting the shopkeeper pick something that looked decent, as long as it wasn't some bizarre, non-mainstream style and was suitable for a normal person to wear.

Soon, Draco emerged from the changing room in a new outfit.

It had to be said, the Malfoy genes were still quite impressive. Even though Draco's face was as arrogant and pompous as ever, the new clothes made him quite a head-turner on the street, attracting quite a few admiring glances from the opposite sex.

His arrogant demeanor might even hit certain people's sweet spots, and it wasn't entirely out of the question that someone might ask for his phone number on the spot.

Draco, however, felt a bit uncomfortable. The clothes fit perfectly, but he still harbored a deep aversion to Muggle items, feeling that wearing them dirtied him.

Sherlock didn't pay any attention to Draco's mood. Seeing that Draco wouldn't be mistaken for some non-mainstream style while walking down the street, Sherlock first bought some fruit from a nearby fruit shop, then hailed a taxi and pushed the reluctant Draco into it.

"Why do we have to take a Muggle taxi? Can't we just go directly?"

Even in the car, with the driver in front, Draco had no qualms about speaking openly. In his eyes, Muggles were incapable of understanding their conversation.

Draco's strange remarks naturally drew a curious look from the taxi driver, but Sherlock completely ignored the problem child. After confirming their destination, Sherlock struck up a conversation with the driver, discussing football, politics, education, and anything else that came up.

Most taxi drivers, regardless of the region, are quite talkative, and Sherlock chatted all the way. In Draco's eyes, this former magic school professor, who had once almost killed the most powerful dark wizard in the Wizarding World, didn't have the slightest air of a powerful wizard. Instead, he seemed like an ordinary Muggle.

This scenario left Draco feeling utterly bewildered.

Even if Sherlock didn't have the pride of a pure-blood, in Draco's mind, a person of great power should always have a certain arrogance. How could someone like Sherlock, who was talking to a Muggle taxi driver, a job considered lowly in the Muggle world, have anything in common with such a person?

Yet, they seemed to be enjoying their conversation the whole way.

When they arrived at their destination and Sherlock paid the fare, the Muggle driver even generously waived the change.

To Draco, this was a form of humiliation. It was just a bit of Muggle currency; did they really think they'd be so stingy?

But Sherlock actually looked pleased and thanked the driver, showing no sign of irritation.

Draco had often spoken ill of Sherlock behind his back, but today was the first time he truly interacted with him.

He didn't sense any pretentiousness from the Defense professor. Even in the Wizarding World, Hogwarts professors were always respected wherever they went.

Yet, in the Muggle world, Sherlock could easily chat with anyone.

Draco looked at Sherlock with a strange expression, but Sherlock didn't seem to care about his feelings. After getting out of the car, he led Draco straight to a large courtyard.

They were now in the outskirts of the city, where the population was sparse, and this courtyard was the largest in the area.

The yard contained some old slides and trampolines, covered in thick layers of snow from a recent storm. The old buildings were adorned with withered branches, giving the place a desolate feel.

The yard was enclosed by a wooden fence with no sign or nameplate.

Sherlock had Draco carry the fruit and walked with him to the gate.

Draco thought that Sherlock might be visiting someone, probably a powerful wizard living in seclusion in the Muggle city, and he was just there to play the role of a doorman.

The yard was dilapidated, with no doorbell or other means of calling for someone. The only way to get attention was to bang on the rusted iron gate.

Soon, someone inside the house noticed the commotion, and an old woman with a blue headscarf emerged.

She saw Sherlock and Draco and frowned.

"What do you want?"

Draco looked up at Sherlock, a bit puzzled. It seemed that Sherlock hadn't informed the owner of the place in advance.

As the old woman came out, Sherlock silently activated his Control Field and used a Confundus Charm on her with his Control Magic.

"Hmm, Mrs. Chris, have you forgotten about me? I called a few days ago, and I’m here today with my nephew to do some volunteer work."

Mrs. Chris finally wore a look of realization. She walked to the door and helped Sherlock and the others open the iron gate.

"I’m sorry, sir, I do seem to remember something like that, but I forgot your name."

"That’s no problem, Mrs. Chris. My name is Sherlock Forrest, and this is my nephew, Draco Malfoy." Sherlock introduced himself warmly, as if he and Mrs. Chris were indeed acquainted.

Draco’s face showed a hint of suspicion, but he didn’t dwell on it. After all, Sherlock hadn’t used a wand when he cast magic earlier.

From what Draco, the young Malfoy, knew, wandless and non-verbal spells were extremely advanced casting techniques. Even if Sherlock was among the top wizards in the Wizarding World, it would be unlikely for him to use a Confundus Charm with such a technique, which was already a moderately advanced spell.

What Draco was most concerned about now was Sherlock’s introduction of their relationship.

"Nephew? I’m—"

Just as he was about to deny this fabricated relationship, Sherlock grabbed his arm, preventing him from continuing. They followed Mrs. Chris into the courtyard.

"I mentioned it on the phone, Mrs. Chris. My nephew has been spoiled at home and is going through a rebellious phase. His parents have specifically asked me to bring him here this weekend to experience life."

Mrs. Chris led the way, occasionally glancing back at Draco, who was following Sherlock.

His arrogant and surly expression indeed resembled that of a street thug, causing her to frown slightly.

"Mr. Forrest, I don’t know if I emphasized this on the phone, but I must repeat it here. I welcome your use of volunteer work as a means of education, but I do not want to see any rude or impolite behavior towards the children."

Draco’s face darkened. He could clearly tell that Mrs. Chris was referring to him. For a pure-blood Malfoy, it was unbearable to be spoken to in such a manner by a Muggle.

Before he could react, Sherlock squeezed his arm slightly, and their eyes met.

Sherlock didn’t say a word, but his smile was reassuring. Draco couldn’t withstand Sherlock’s gaze and averted his eyes, lowering his head.

"Rest assured, Mrs. Chris. Although this boy is used to acting without restraint, I can still keep him in line. If anything unpleasant happens, I promise to take him away without you having to say a word."

With Sherlock’s assurance, Mrs. Chris seemed more at ease. Some people could easily gain others’ trust upon first meeting.

They entered the old two-story house and made their way to a room that looked like a classroom.

"The children are currently doing crafts. Please help supervise them. There are a few older children assisting as well. I need to go prepare lunch now."

Sherlock nodded at Mrs. Chris.

"Leave it to us. I have experience with volunteer work."

Satisfied with his assurance, Mrs. Chris left.

Only then did Draco have the chance to ask the question that had been on his mind.

"Where are we, and why are we here?"

Sherlock didn’t rush to open the door but instead smiled at Draco.

"Haven’t you figured it out yet? This is a Muggle orphanage. The lady we just spoke to, Mrs. Chris, is the sole person in charge here. We’re here to do volunteer work."

"Volunteer work!" Draco’s voice rose involuntarily, his shock and anger momentarily overriding his respect for Sherlock.

"Yes, volunteer work. Or do you not understand what that means? It’s simple: it’s unpaid, voluntary labor."

"I understand it! But you brought me here today just to be a volunteer for a bunch of Muggle kids! Professor Forrest, you can insult me in any way, but not like this!"

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at the visibly agitated Draco.

"Oh? You consider this an insult?"

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end