Harry Potter: I am the Legend

At dawn the next day, the distorted sunlight once again burst through the clouds, appearing out of nowhere as if skipping the entire process of sunrise and sunset.

Hoffa ventured into the forest once more, this time accompanied by two men. One had golden hair and a rugged appearance. His name was Aldo. Though hot-tempered, he had an almost childlike fear of insects.

The other was a red-haired man named Anker, whose sharp, narrow eyes and delicate features gave him a sly demeanor. He was the one who had tried to trip Hoffa up while fleeing through the sea of bugs—a subtle but unmistakable troublemaker.

Forming an alliance with enemies from different factions was far from ideal but became a necessity in their current situation. It reminded Hoffa of the Battle of Hogwarts over fifty years later. If not for Voldemort, Gryffindor and Slytherin might never have worked together.

As they re-entered the forest, the three men were on edge after the previous day's encounter. Clutching wooden sticks, they moved cautiously, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Within the forest, curtain-like fungal plants draped from branches. Giant flowers bloomed in muddy pits and floated on stagnant pools. The arthropods they had seen yesterday were now hidden, while massive slugs squirmed on tree trunks, leaving glistening, mucus-like trails behind them.

Hoffa and Anker maintained their vigilance, bracing for any lurking danger.

Aldo, however, struggled to cope. His teeth chattered as he muttered, "This damned island is revolting. Every creature here is utterly repulsive."

"Pull yourself together, Aldo," said Anker. "It's just a few gastropods."

"Don't care what phylum or class they are—bugs are bugs, and I can't stand them," Aldo grumbled.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a half-meter-long slug fell from a tree and extended its slimy, toothy tongue toward him. Acting on reflex, Aldo swung his stick and smashed it to the ground. Even after being struck, the creature's body continued to writhe.

Aldo retched and then rasped, "Creatures this size are unnatural. Could they be magical beings?"

Anker crouched to inspect the slug's body. After poking it and licking his finger, he spat in disgust.

"No magic detected. This isn't a magical creature."

The revolting gesture nearly made Aldo faint.

Meanwhile, Hoffa stroked his chin, lost in thought. "Don't you find something strange about this island's location?"

"What do you mean?" asked Anker.

"The English Channel is one of the busiest waterways in the world. In a place like this, every inch of the seabed has probably been mapped. How could an untouched, primitive island exist here?"

Anker immediately retorted, "How can you be so sure this island formed naturally? Maybe it's an ancient wizard's secret domain, hidden with Muggle-repelling charms."

"It's not a secret domain," Hoffa stated firmly.

"And how would you know that?" Anker challenged.

"I have my ways of identifying secret domains. I don't owe you an explanation. Just take my word for it—this isn't one."

"Sorry, Mr. Bach, but I'll stick to my theory. In a natural environment, such bizarre creatures couldn't exist."

"Could you two stop arguing? Are we going to find LeMay or not?" Aldo interjected impatiently, leaning on his stick. "At this rate, she'll be nothing but bones by the time we get there."

Hoffa and Anker dropped their debate about the island's origins and pressed on deeper into the jungle.

Anker led the way, clearing a path, with Hoffa in the middle and Aldo bringing up the rear. After wading through a sinister swamp littered with animal carcasses, Anker suddenly raised his arm, signaling the group to halt.

"Look, there's a house," he said.

Hoffa and Aldo joined him, and sure enough, in the riverbed ahead stood a crooked, three-story wooden cabin. Its windows were covered in cobwebs, its chimney partially collapsed, and its moss-covered walls gave it a decrepit appearance. Isolated in the leaf-strewn forest, the house seemed eerie and out of place.

"I knew it!" Anker declared confidently. "This must be the work of the wizard who created this secret domain."

Gazing at the peculiar structure, Hoffa couldn't help but wonder. Could this really be a wizard's secret domain? Yet his system hadn't provided any clues.

"Let's check it out," Anker said, beckoning Aldo toward the house.

"Don't go in," Aldo blurted out suddenly.

"Why not?"

"Just... don't go in," Aldo stammered, lowering his head.

Anker looked puzzled. "What's wrong, Aldo? You've been acting strangely since yesterday."

"That's... my childhood home," Aldo said, his face pale as a sheet.

His words stopped Hoffa and Anker in their tracks.

Anker: "Your house? Are you kidding me? Aren't you from Berlin? How could your house end up in a place like this?"

Aldo: "I'm not joking, Anker. These walls, this chimney, this yard—I wouldn't forget them even fifty years from now."

Anker cursed under his breath, "Damn it, are you losing your mind? What's going on in your head? How could you mistake something like this?"

Hoffa, who had been silent until now, spoke up. "He's not lying. There's something seriously wrong with this island—everything about it. The bricks, the architecture—they're unmistakably from the early 20th-century Weimar Republic. This house belongs on a Berlin street, not in a primeval forest."

Anker's expression darkened as he silently listened.

Hoffa began to circle the house slowly, observing every detail.

"If this place was created by a wizard," Hoffa said, "why would they leave a Muggle-style residential building here? It makes no sense—unless this house was put here specifically for someone to see."

Anker: "Aldo, tell me what's going on."

Aldo's legs trembled as he stammered, "Nothing… Let's just go."

"Why leave? Is LeMay inside this house?"

"How would I know?!" Aldo snapped, his voice rising in agitation.

"Then why don't we go inside and find out?" Hoffa suggested.

"No way! Look at this place—it's falling apart. How could anyone be in there—"

His words were abruptly cut off as though an invisible hand had gripped his throat. A short, trembling sound escaped his lips.

Inside the dilapidated house, a warm, orange light suddenly flickered to life. The glow of candlelight illuminated the interior, its cozy ambiance chillingly out of place in the eerie setting.

Hoffa and Anker exchanged a glance. Aldo's legs twitched, his face turning ghostly pale as he stood frozen like a statue.

"Someone's in there," Anker whispered, taking a cautious step back. "Staying here isn't a good idea."

Hoffa shot him a disdainful look, thinking, This guy was just questioning why Aldo wouldn't go in, and now that there's someone inside, he's the first to back away.

Still, Hoffa himself began to retreat as well. Until things became clearer, keeping a safe distance from this bizarre house seemed wise.

But as Hoffa and Anker stepped back, Aldo appeared to fall under some kind of spell. His sweat-soaked face remained tense as he slowly moved toward the house.

"Aldo," Anker called softly from behind, "I was just joking earlier. Let's survey the area first before going in."

Aldo didn't respond. He kept walking, step by step, growing closer to the house with the glowing candlelight.

Suddenly, the door creaked open.

A woman wearing a headscarf appeared in the doorway. Her features were plain, her hands large and rough. She had the look of a typical European housewife.

"Aldo, you're back?" she said warmly.

"I'm back," Aldo rasped.

"Come in. I just finished making lunch."

"I have two friends with me," Aldo said, gesturing behind him.

"Friends? Wonderful. They're welcome too," the woman said, enthusiastically inviting Hoffa and Anker inside.

The bizarre scene made Hoffa's skin crawl. Seeing that the person in the house wasn't Chloe, all he wanted now was to leave this unsettling place.

But a thick, inexplicable fog began to roll in from all directions, swallowing the forest around them. The once-vast woodland faded away, leaving only the eerie, decrepit house standing as if it were the last structure in existence.

Sweat streamed down Hoffa's face. He glanced at Aldo, who was nearly inside the house, and gritted his teeth. "Damn it!"

He rushed forward, trying to intercept Aldo, but before he could, the middle-aged woman grabbed his wrist. With a cheerful smile, she held onto Hoffa with one hand and Anker with the other, pulling them both into the house.

Farther away, Anker was already panicking. He tried to flee, but no matter which direction he ran, the only thing visible was the swirling white fog. No matter how far he went, when he turned around, the house was always there, unmoving and unchanged.

In the end, with no other choice, Anker braced himself and followed behind Hoffa and Aldo into the eerie house.

Once inside, the middle-aged woman warmly welcomed the three of them, offering drinks and snacks with enthusiasm.

But despite her genuine smile, the atmosphere in the house was disturbingly strange.

Aldo's expression was a mix of nostalgia, hatred, and melancholy. Anker's eyes darted around uneasily, his face alternately grim and anxious. Hoffa, meanwhile, kept his head low, idly spinning the cup on the table.

None of the three commented on the bizarre situation they were in.

The woman placed a box of fruit candies on the table and bent down to hug Aldo's head gently.

"Your father and I are divorced now," she said softly. "No one will hit you anymore, Aldo. Please don't run off like that again."

Aldo nodded mechanically.

The woman released him happily and turned to Hoffa.

"You look about the same age as Aldo. Are you his classmate?"

Hoffa thought to himself that he clearly didn't look the same age as Aldo—if anyone did, it was Anker.

Still, in such a strange environment, he wasn't inclined to dwell on these inconsistencies.

He nodded. "Yes."

"And you?" The woman turned to Anker. "Were you the one who found him?"

Anker forced a strained smile. "Yes, yes, I found him."

"That's wonderful. You're such kind people," the woman said, tears of gratitude welling up in her eyes. "I always knew there were more good people in the world. Come, let's have a meal together. I made beef and potatoes. It's simple, but—oh, right, Aldo, yesterday there was a very kind girl helping me hand out flyers in Berlin to look for you."

Aldo's vacant eyes stared forward as he responded in a hoarse voice, "Really?"

The middle-aged woman looked upstairs and called out, "Chloe, sweetheart, come down for dinner. My child is back!"

From the second floor, the sound of quick footsteps echoed as a girl with long red hair and light purple eyes ran down the stairs.

Before she even reached the bottom, her eyes landed on Hoffa sitting at the table. She immediately covered her mouth and gasped in shock.

"You—how are you here too!?"

Hoffa shot to his feet as if electrified. Anker also stood up, both of them instinctively eyeing the kitchen where the knives were kept.

The fragile semblance of peace shattered in an instant. Both of them had the same thought racing through their minds—whoever grabbed the knife first would have the upper hand.

But Aldo quietly grabbed Anker's hand and whispered, "Not here."

There was a rare hint of pleading in his voice.

Anker was unmoved. He shook off Aldo's hand, standing as still as a statue, his predatory gaze flicking back and forth between Chloe and Hoffa.

Eventually, Hoffa abandoned the idea of grabbing a knife and sat back down. Letting out a long sigh, he murmured, "I understand now."

The middle-aged woman emerged from the kitchen, carrying a pot, and cheerfully invited them to sit.

"Come, everyone, sit down. Chloe, after dinner, I'll take you to the local police station."

Chloe ran to her side and asked incredulously, "Who's your child?"

The woman pointed at Aldo. "Look, he's exactly the same as the picture on the flyer. Isn't he adorable?"

Chloe exclaimed, "He's practically your age!"

The woman stared at her in confusion, as if she didn't understand what Chloe was talking about.

"Shut up, LeMay!" Aldo suddenly shouted, his tone harsh. He then turned to the woman and said, "Can I have a private word with my friends?"

The woman looked mildly surprised but quickly nodded with a smile. "Of course, dear."

She stepped out and closed the door behind her.

The moment the woman left, the tiny kitchen became a whirlwind of chaos, teetering on the edge of complete disarray.

Anker was the first to erupt. "Damn it, Aldo! Is that your mother? You told us she died a long time ago! So what the hell is that woman—some kind of ghost?!"

(End of Chapter)

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