章 384: 0383 The Journey
BOOM!
A deafening clap of thunder reverberated through the mountains and valleys, making the world shudder!
In an instant, torrential rains enveloped the world. The formerly glistening lake surface was now turbulent under the onslaught of howling winds and pounding rain. Forks of lightning slashed across the layered towers of Hogwarts, casting an eerily pale glow on the gloomy castle.
The rainstorm rapidly raised the lake level, swiftly overflowing the banks. When the surging waters were about to reach Bryan and Dumbledore, who stood facing each other in the downpour, it automatically diverted and flowed to other places.
'Darkness stirring once again, remain silent?'
"You've decided?" Bryan thought back to his previous speculation. Harry had almost completed half his schooling at Hogwarts. At some point, in the future, Voldemort would seize the opportunity to return. And Dumbledore, apparently with a clearer view, had already sensed through various signs that the moment of this impending disaster could no longer be averted.
"What prompted you to make such a decision?" Before Dumbledore could answer the first question, Bryan asked the second one.
"In the two months you've been away from Hogwarts—"
Facing Bryan, Dumbledore saw no need to beat around the bush. He calmly stated, "Severus had been repeatedly warning me in private. His past secret magical connection with Tom allowed him to sense that Tom was growing stronger—"
"Secret magical connection?" Bryan's brow furrowed slightly. He knew Professor Snape had once worked for Voldemort, but what was this about a magical connection?
"The Dark Mark," Dumbledore explained concisely. "I think you've heard of this 'intimate' mark shared between Tom and his followers."
"Tom has clearly received some form of aid, which has helped him partially overcome his wretched, barely-existing state after the rebounding Killing Curse stripped him of his body twelve years ago, though his Horcruxes allowed him to linger on. Knowing him as I do, he would never be satisfied and would stop at nothing to regain his former power."
"What aid? Who is helping him?"
In the current wizarding world, if you ask who knows the situation of Voldemort the most, it is undoubtedly the old man who has stood in the world for a hundred years. In this regard, Bryan is far inferior to Dumbledore.
Bryan's gaze locked onto Dumbledore's brilliant blue eyes.
"I don't know everything, Bryan—" Dumbledore managed a faint smile. "But Tom has always found a way to obtain help, no matter the circumstances."
"What do you think he might do?"
"As I've said, Bryan, though my aging mind holds a lot of information, I am far from being omniscient. More often than not, I can only rely on guesswork to deduce the course of events—"
"Then hazard a guess, Headmaster Dumbledore. It won't matter if you're wrong," Bryan smiled, observing the helplessness on the aged face beside him.
Amidst the howling winds and torrential rains, Bryan's smile shone like a beacon, dispelling some of Dumbledore's worries and gloom. A head taller than Bryan, Dumbledore looked down at the young yet unusually composed face, his own brow unwrinkling noticeably.
"Very well, if you insist, Bryan—" Dumbledore's voice lightened. "Then let us speculate."
Pausing briefly, Dumbledore did not voice his guess. Instead, he asked back, "You are familiar with Horcruxes, Bryan. Surely, then, you must also know what methods a disembodied wizard with Horcruxes might employ to regain their former power?"
In an instant, Bryan scanned the vast expanse of magical knowledge stored in his mind, yet as that knowledge flashed before his eyes, his brow furrowed slightly.
Not because he couldn't find anything, but because there was too much!
Modern systems, ancient systems, complete and fragmentary—magic capable of helping a disembodied soul regain physical form was not at all unique.
No one dares to claim that he is proficient in all magical knowledge. Whether it is Dumbledore or Bryan, it is difficult to lock in a specific magic that Voldemort might use from these.
Bryan gazed deeply into Dumbledore's brilliant eyes, and suddenly, a thought struck him. "You think he might use Harry?"
"That seems most likely—" Dumbledore turned his gaze toward Gryffindor Tower. "I suspect Tom has spent these years trying to understand why his magic failed against Harry all those years ago. And now, he has likely uncovered at least some of the truth."
Dumbledore clearly did not want to explain further, but based on this information, he had already guessed it.
It was only natural, then, to understand Dumbledore's request for Bryan to remain silent about the potential events that might happen at Hogwarts the next school year.
Numerous thoughts raced through Bryan's mind, but ultimately, the words that escaped his lips were, "Have you considered the possibility that Harry might still die, Headmaster?"
Dumbledore fell silent for a long while before wearily replying, "I cannot foresee everything, but I will do my utmost to ensure Harry's safety, Bryan. This will also require your assistance. Perhaps you will think that sending a fourth-year student to face the most dangerous Dark wizard in history is an act of despicable cowardice—"
"No—" Bryan shook his head. "That is your most admirable quality."
As the clouds dispersed and the sun reemerged, bathing the land in its rays,
At the school gate, Sirius squeezed in from the big iron gate, and he saw Bryan and Dumbledore by the lake from a distance.
"Oh, Bryan—" Dumbledore suddenly spoke, glancing at Sirius trotting over. "I don't know why you insist on visiting Azkaban without using the Ministry's channel, but regarding the prisoners there, I hope you will refrain from interfering with their peaceful lives as much as possible."
"I'll be mindful of that."
Bryan strode forward with a smile, waving at Sirius with keen interest. "I hear you went to negotiate with the Dursleys. How did it go?"
"Do you even need to ask!" Displaying no signs of dejection from being forced out of the professorship, Sirius trotted over with a broad grin. "Harry was right—that Muggle family is utterly unpleasant."
Sirius glanced past Bryan's shoulder at the distant Dumbledore and lowered his voice. "I threatened that nasty bunch. If Harry receives any targeting or unfair treatment while at their house, I'll personally blow it to smithereens!
I told them I'm an escaped convict, so I don't care about adding a few more lives to my tally. You should have seen their reaction, Bryan! That boy, practically the size of a baby whale, wet himself out of sheer terror!"
Truth be told, Bryan did not entirely approve of Sirius's approach, but he refrained from voicing his own opinions, and simply chuckled casually.
"How are your preparations coming along?"
"Ready to depart at any time!" Sirius said happily.
Neither Bryan nor Sirius wanted this adventure to be delayed for too long, but in reality, they were still delayed for two days.
Suddenly, a letter arrived for Sirius from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was from Remus. After months of recuperation, the werewolf virus within Remus's body had finally subsided to a safe level. In about a week's time, he would be discharged from the hospital.
Remus, who had been stuck in the hospital for almost half a year, impatiently wrote inquiring about Sirius's recent plans.
Remus certainly hoped to have the company of his old friend when he was discharged from the hospital. However, Sirius needed to go on a journey with Bryan, which conservatively estimated, could take twenty days to a month. So, Sirius made a special trip to the hospital to apologize to Remus.
Nevertheless, there was something to look forward to.
After their return, the 422nd Quidditch World Cup would be just around the corner. Sirius planned to join Remus in picking up Harry from the Dursleys' home, and after reuniting with Harry's friends, they would go to watch the World Cup together.
The two sincerely invited Bryan to join them, but he had never been particularly interested in this kind of sport except muggle football.
The first half of this journey was generally comfortable.
They chose to travel by Muggle means, first taking a flight from London to the northern port city of Aberdeen in northeast Scotland, one of the major cities in the Scottish region.
The ferry from Aberdeen to the Shetland Islands typically departed at 7 PM and arrived the following morning at the port, meaning Bryan and Sirius would need to spend the night on board.
Despite the impending summer season in late June, the temperatures here were not scorching. Instead, a slight chill permeated the air.
BOOM—
In the dead of night, as the ferry sailed through the dense fog over the sea, it suddenly plunged from a height of four or five stories into the trough between the waves, causing violent turbulence that terrified the Muggle tourists sleeping in their rooms. Even Bryan was awakened by the commotion.
To be honest, Bryan wasn't particularly good at handling these less comfortable modes of transportation.
But there was no choice. When the destination wasn't precise, using Apparition wasn't a good option, and broomsticks demanded too much physical exertion, so wizards wouldn't normally choose them for long-distance travel.
Opening his sleepy eyes, Bryan glanced at the bed beside him; Sirius wasn't in the room.
His gaze penetrated the cabin walls, which had already let in some seawater, and Bryan easily located Sirius's position. After a moment's thought, he put on a coat, opened the bedroom door, and entered the narrow corridor filled with the scent of sea and rust.
Everything in view was chaotic. At the end of the hallway, a slovenly Muggle sailor had secured himself to the railing with a safety harness and was resting with his eyes closed.
The seemingly careless sailor was more alert than expected. When Bryan's palm touched the icy doorknob, the sailor immediately opened his eyes, gripped Bryan's wrist, and fixed him with a wary gaze through his disheveled hair.
"What are you doing?"
"I have a friend on the deck, and I need to find him."
"Don't lie!" The sailor bluntly called out this 'lie.' Straining his voice to reach Bryan's ears, he said, "I've been guarding here the whole time, sir. No one has passed through, and besides, there's a hurricane raging outside with waves as high as several stories. If your friend is really out there, he's definitely not on the deck. I reckon he's probably feeding the fish at the bottom of the sea!"
A hint of helplessness flashed in Bryan's eyes. "You're really unlucky tonight, brother. I hope getting hit with two Confundus Charms doesn't scramble your brain."
"What?"
Before the confused sailor could ask anything further, the world before his eyes suddenly became hazy, and his mind grew foggy as well.
Click!
The sailor unlatched the door, opening the heavy iron portal for Bryan. Ignoring the raging storm, he cheerfully said, "What lovely weather, sir. The sunshine is brilliant, and the sea breeze is gentle. I hope you have a pleasant journey!"
"Thank you."
Bryan politely nodded, stepped over the threshold, and unsteadily climbed the steel ladder to the deck.
*******************************
For More Chapters; patreon.com/FicFrenzy
章 385: 0384 Sirius's Struggle
Bryan politely nodded, stepped over the threshold, and unsteadily climbed the steel ladder to the deck.
In the midst of the raging waves, this sizable ferry rocked like a small boat, rising and falling with the surging tides. Bryan could constantly hear the ominous groan of straining steel, as if the ferry might disintegrate in the terrifying waves at any second.
The ferry seemed to sail through the netherworld itself. The night sky was pitch black, the sea a deep inkwell shade, and some otherworldly force appeared to swallow lights emitted by the ferry.
This is the might of nature!
The thought suddenly occurred to Bryan as he gazed at a wave cresting higher than the ship's bow.
It's not that he has never been to sea before, but it had always been for missions requiring secrecy. He basically would not use the transportation methods of wizards or Muggles, but chose the more flexible flying broom instead. This was Bryan's first time using Muggle maritime travel, and from a Muggle's perspective, the power of nature was truly terrifying.
Not just Muggles—even wizards couldn't withstand the forces of nature.
The waves crashed onto the deck, sweeping away a few buckets that were not fixed.
Sirius had used a bit of magic to secure himself on the deck but hadn't cast a water-repelling charm, so his figure was submerged in inky waves.
Hum.
A hidden magical barrier clung to his body as Bryan floated over to Sirius's side.
"Looking for a thrill?"
"Just reminiscing," Sirius wiped the seawater from his face, a tinge of sorrow in his smile. "After escaping from Azkaban, I drifted alone at sea for several weeks. It seems it was around this season too. Heh, less than a year has passed, but it feels like many years ago."
Bryan pursed his lips, giving a slight smile but did not speak.
"I was so desperate back then." Sirius closed his eyes, letting the cold seawater slap his face.
"I carefully avoided sirens and merpeople. When the winds were calm, I'd find some fish from the sea to eat. Sometimes, there was no rain so I went several days without a drop of fresh water and had to make do with drinking the blood of larger fish. When strong winds picked up, I couldn't control my movements at all and was tossed dozens of feet into the air by the waves or slammed into the depths of the sea. Countless times, I thought I was doomed."
Reliving those moments made the memories more real and vivid, causing Sirius to shudder violently a few times.
Bryan knew that Sirius needed someone to talk to, so he remained silent. Fortunately, Sirius quickly regained his composure, took a deep breath, and buried his emotions.
"No one knows Azkaban's exact location. The rumor is that it's located above the North Sea, so we could only take it one step at a time."
Bryan asked curiously, "Why didn't we go straight into the North Sea from Aberdeen but went to the Shetland Islands instead?"
"Because that's where I came ashore," Sirius explained. "The currents carried me to a location not far from the mainland. By then, the waves had calmed a bit. I did fairly well in Astronomy at Hogwarts, so I used what I'd learned from Aurora about planetary orbits and trajectories to determine my position and adjust my direction. But it was still very difficult. By the time I could see the shoreline, I was completely exhausted."
A smile tugged at the corners of Sirius's mouth. "I couldn't maintain my Animagus form and transformed back into a human. Then an old fisherman named John pulled me out of the sea. He fed me and took care of me when I was exhausted. Thanks to him, I was able to quickly regain my strength and continue sneaking along as my Animagus form. I promised John I'd come back to visit him when I could."
"So where does this fisherman live?" Bryan asked gently.
At that moment, the raging winds tore through the layered storm clouds, allowing a shaft of moonlight as pure as holy light to bathe a distant island.
In the distance, a small light flickered amidst the crashing waves.
"Ah—" Sirius exclaimed in joy. "He's right there!"
...
*Scenebreak*
...
Archaeological evidence suggests that human activity on the Shetland Islands dates back to around 3000 BC. Over the centuries, these islands have experienced various shifts in control and influence.
For centuries after the Roman Empire, the Shetland Islands saw significant Norse influence. During the 8th and 9th centuries, Viking settlers from Scandinavia began to arrive, and by the early Middle Ages, the islands were effectively under Norse control. The Vikings ruled the Shetlands until the 15th century.
In 1469, King Christian I of Norway and Denmark pawned the Shetland Islands to James III of Scotland as part of a dowry payment for his daughter Margaret's marriage to the Scottish king. This transaction ultimately led to the Shetland Islands becoming part of Scottish territory, where they remain today.
These northernmost British islands have always been sparsely populated. Even today, only 15 of the scattered islands in this archipelago are inhabited, with a total population of less than 30,000 people.
If it weren't for the influx of wealthy tourists seeking remote destinations in recent years, which has brought some economic benefits, the remaining inhabitants would likely have migrated to larger cities long ago.
Old John was not a native of the Shetland Islands, nor even from Aberdeen.
He hailed from Newcastle in eastern England. During World War II, he was conscripted into the military and ended up battling invading enemies in these waters. That brutal battle left one of his legs weakened; in damp, cold weather, the injured leg would ache and stiffen terribly, making it difficult for him to sleep.
Nevertheless, Old John never complained.
After all, in order to resist the invasion, his unit at the time fought an obscure battle in these waters that resulted in complete annihilation—he was the sole survivor.
After the war ended, John returned to Newcastle. He had expected to live a happy, peaceful life, but when he arrived at his long-awaited home, he found not only his wife in the bedroom but also another man with a very white butt.
Old John only remembered the man's white butt, not his face, because the moment he saw that scene, he pulled out his gun and blew the man's brains out. After taking one sad look at his screaming wife, Old John fled his home.
It was all fate.
Old John came back to the place where he had once fought. Using his military pension, he bought a house in the town nearest to the coast. However, over the years, he hardly lived in that house, preferring instead to hole up in the lighthouse standing at the edge of the cliffs.
Lighthouse keeper—this was the job the townspeople arranged for him after learning he was a veteran soldier who had fought the enemy.
In previous years, this job served a purpose; he could light the way home for fishermen lost at sea. But these days, the townspeople seldom went out to sea anymore, preferring instead to serve the tourists visiting the area. This work was safer and more lucrative.
Knock, knock, knock!
The frigid, roaring sea of the previous night seemed like a dream. After the sun rose, the boundless ocean regained its gem-like azure hue. Golden sunlight spilled onto the beach, and seagulls soared freely along the coastline.
The rust-mottled iron door rattled with knocking, waking Old John, who had suffered a night of leg pain and hardly slept a wink.
"You little brats, if you don't settle down, I'll shove my gun barrel up your asses right in front of your parents!" the bearded, disheveled Old John roared as he crawled out of bed.
In the past, returning fishermen would come here and offer gifts from the sea as a gesture of gratitude. But since this tradition, stretching back thousands of years on these lands, fell out of favor, Old John rarely received visitors anymore, save for the occasional mischievous boys from town who would come to pester him for fun.
These little shits would steal the dried fish he had laid out on the rocks to sun, using them to feed the seagulls, or they would pelt the old gas lamps atop the lighthouse with stones, shattering them.
Knock, knock, knock!
The knocking sounded again, but this time it raised a flicker of wariness in Old John's eyes.
If those brats really were causing trouble again, they should have been scared off by his earlier shouting and would not dare knock on his door again so brazenly!
Old John grabbed the hunting rifle hanging on the wall, bent over, and limped down the spiral staircase, finally positioning himself behind the iron door.
Click!
The bullet was loaded, and Old John swiftly pulled open the iron door. Before uttering a word, he raised the rifle barrel menacingly, aiming it squarely at the knocker's head!
"You lot better—oh!"
A cry of surprise joined the ethereal cries of the seagulls soaring into the distant, blue sky.
Perhaps due to the dim lighting, the ground floor where Old John's living room was located appeared quite messy, scattered with all sorts of odds and ends. The dried fish hanging overhead also filled the room with an unpleasant fishy odor.
"This place is pretty much like Hagrid's hut—"
With no chairs in the room, Bryan lifted the edge of his coat and casually sat on the blackened stairs, looking at the surroundings with interest.
"Hagrid?"
The water on the stove had already boiled, gurgling nonstop. Old John limped over, lifted the kettle, and prepared tea for Sirius and Bryan. Hearing Bryan's comment, he gruffly asked, "Is he a lighthouse keeper too?"
"Oh, no—" Sirius smiled as he answered the question. "Something similar, though—he's the gamekeeper at Hogwarts."
"Hogwarts? It doesn't sound like a decent place!"
"Indeed—" Bryan couldn't help but laugh as he observed this rather gruff, scruffy old man, both in appearance and personality. "It's really not very decent—it's a school for Troubled Teens. Quite a few of the little rascals ended up in prison after graduating due to criminal behavior."
Sirius rolled his eyes at Bryan. All this time, Bryan's power had unconsciously caused everyone to overlook his age. Sirius had always regarded him as a peer. But in this moment, Bryan's demeanor while interacting with this kind Muggle old man made Sirius suddenly realize that he was just a young man in his early twenties.
Although quite elderly, Old John's mind remained sharp. He could tell the young man with gray hair was just joking, and he let out a few rough laughs. As he poured Sirius's tea, he squinted, studying Sirius carefully. After the cup was full, he nodded with satisfaction.
"Looks like you've found your way in life, young man—"
"Yes, though I've had some setbacks, the end result turned out alright, I suppose—" Sirius took a deep breath and said, smiling at this robust eighty-year-old man as he caressed the cup's rim. "How about you? Does your leg still give you trouble?"
"This old ailment will probably follow me to the grave!"
After pouring tea for the gray-haired young man as well, Old John tossed the kettle onto the table. Looking around and finding nowhere to sit, he plopped his backside directly onto the table's edge.
"So, what brings you back here this time, young man?"
"Just call me Sirius—I promised you, John, that I'd come back to see you if I got the chance. After all, you saved my life—"
"Still full of lies, just like before!" Old John muttered, his blunt remark causing Sirius's cheeks to redden slightly with embarrassment.
"You seem more honest, kid. You don't look like one of those slick-tongued fellows!" Old John turned his gaze toward Bryan.
Kid...it had been a long time since anyone called him that—
Bryan let out an unintentional laugh. But considering this man was a World War II veteran, being addressed that way based on age difference didn't really bother him. Bryan scratched his cheek.
"Well, you see, Mr. John, we're planning to set sail from here—"
"Set sail?" Old John interrupted, smacking his lips. His weathered, aged face furrowed deeply with concern. "This isn't a good season for sailing. Storms could arrive at any moment. Unless you're here to commit suicide, I wouldn't advise it!"
*******************************
For More Chapters; patreon.com/FicFrenzy
週次パワーステータス
200+ 推薦
ランキング 
28 推薦
チケット あなたも好きかも
段落コメント