Next morning they were enclosed in a private jet that Mycroft had provided and were heading to Paris. Hermione is excited. Rose was safe with Ginny, the case was going somewhere and she always wanted to come to Paris. Perfect.
Sherlock is pensive. The case was heading in a new direction. Millicent was dead because she knew something. Plus he now had a new worry. Hermione had her wand, he had his gun, but would that be enough? He is worried for her. And for himself. But mostly for her.

They check into their hotel and Hermione moans of a headache. They decide to start investigating tomorrow.

A taxi takes them to 5th Arrondissement Latin Quarter the next day, the address on the paper. A row of charming apartments greet them. They get down from the taxi and look for Pansy's abode.
They are unable to find 201. Sherlock tries asking people nicely but no one can give them a proper answer. It baffles him greatly. Sherlock crosses his arms and looks up the street with a stormy expression Hermione chews her lip and shakes her head. Suddenly she realizes, "Fidelius Charm!"
"What?" Sherlock says.
"The flat must be locked by the Fidelius Charm. It hides a secret within a person. That means the location of Pansy's flat is known by some person and the location won't be revealed unless the charm is lifted."
"Great," he mutters.
"Are you looking for Pansy?" a blonde woman in her late twenties asks them in an accented voice.
Hermione frowns, "How do you know Pansy? We are looking for Dahlia!"
Sherlock stared the woman down suspiciously. She laughs, "I know Pansy since she was eighteen. I am a witch too. I have been looking for her. You see my mother helped her with the shop and I work their part-time. The Parkinsons were our family friends. I live nearby and have been coming here every few days to check if she has come back."
Sherlock asks, "What is your name?"
"Marianne Zabini Bernard. So do you know where she is? I have been looking for her everywhere. I don't even know who is the secret keeper."
Hermione's head was spinning, "Wait? Your mother was a Zabini?"
"Oui. Why?"
"Uh. Nothing. It's just I knew Blaise Zabini from school."
"Oh yes my late uncle. I remember my grandparents left our ancestral mansion after he died. Quelle belle maison, il etait…"
Sherlock and Hermione exchange a look. An abandoned mansion. An abandoned ancestral mansion sounds like the perfect hiding spot. Sherlock steps down from the curb to hail a cab after he learns the address.
Marianne asks, "Why does he want to go there?"
"He loves old mansions," she says. She remembers something, "Do you know anybody named Sebastian? Someone Pansy was seeing?"
"Oui. He was an ex-boyfriend she said. Oh sorry ex-ex-boyfriend!"
Hermione laughs along with Marianne.

The address they got takes them to a posh area in Paris. They get down and walk towards the dilapidated mansion. The iron gate is locked with the sign 'FOR SALE' hanging from it. Hermione takes out her wand and says, "Cover me. I can open this." Sherlock does as she says. Then she mutters, "Reducto."
The lock gets blasted and the gate is pushed open. Sherlock smiles, "I am starting to love magic."
As he struts before her, she grabs his sleeve and stops him. "Wait. Homenum Revelio." When it indicates there is no human presence, she says, "There is no one here."
"How?"
"It is a spell to reveal human presence."
"I feel we still need to look inside."
Sherlock nods as they enter the mansion. Hermione decides to look downstairs while Sherlock explores upstairs. She walks into what is the ballroom and spots a large cauldron and some furnishings. She walks to the cauldron and peeps inside. It is almost empty and contains a muddy liquid. She knows what it is. She had made the same thing in that haunted washroom twenty two years ago.
"Sherlock!" she shouts after coming back into the hall.
Sherlock hears her and goes down. He says, "I found clothes. Different kinds and different sizes. Both male and female outfits. And in this other room I found an assembly of junk objects. Also I found a drawer filled with hair of different colours. What does that mean?"
"That means Blaise has been hiding in plain sight all these years. And this is why he needed Pansy. And he has been travelling without air miles."

Later, when they go back to their hotel for lunch, Hermione explains, "Lacewing flies are used for making Polyjuice potion. This potion can make you change your complete appearance. From your height to your skin colour. That is why he needed clothes of various sizes. And a key ingredient in this potion is a part of the person you want to look like. A hair strand, a nail clipping, etc. That is why he had hair samples in that drawer."
Sherlock listens to her silent awe. Had he met her two years ago, faking his death would have been much easier.
Sherlock asks, "The junk?"
"He has been making Portkeys. These are objects that help you cover large distances."
Hermione looks down at her half-eaten sandwich and says, "I wonder…I mean…"
"What?" he asks.
"He has already exposed himself, why would he still make the potion? And for making Portkeys you need someone on the other end."
"Maybe he wants to keep doing what he has planned to do. And he is not alone."
"And what is that?"
"He seems to want to hurt his friends. Pansy, Draco and now Millicent."
Hermione thinks Sherlock could be right. But his explanation does not satisfy her. In fact, Sherlock himself is not satisfied with his theory, there is something they are both missing.
Hermione sits up and says, resting her elbows on the table, "Hey Sherlock. I know this is horrible timing, but can we go to the Eiffel Tower when it's darker? I want to see the lights."
Sherlock down at her eyes shining with repressed excitement. He knows this is bad timing, but finds himself saying, "Okay."

They go see the Eiffel Tower that night in all its shiny glory. Hermione stands mesmerized as she stands in front of it. She sighs happily. She loops her arm around Sherlock's arm and rests her head on his shoulder.
Sherlock startles when she puts her head on his shoulder. When he looks at her contented and happy expression, a smile makes way onto his face. He releases his arm from her hold and puts it around her shoulder.
Hermione snakes her hand around his waist. Surprised by this sudden movement, she keeps quiet. This moment now is perfect. It will never come back. She rather not speak and destroy it. Better yet, she thinks, he rather not speak and destroy it.
Unbeknownst to her, the tiny voice in the detective's head was saying the same.

A/N. Hello lovely readers! I am going on a mini-vacation, so I will not be able to upload regularly! So I leave you with two chapters in a day (I am nice like that!). Now for some sun, sand and sea! Ciao!