Harry Potter: I am the Legend

Elsewhere, in a third-floor hotel room,

the ticking of a clock echoed with rhythmic precision.

Tick.

Tick.

Every second was measured with mechanical accuracy.

Ossivia lay on the bed, her hands resting flat over her chest like a corpse, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on the dark ceiling above.

For some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

That first-year Ravenclaw boy, adept at Transfiguration, had agreed to her request far too readily.

Having spent several years at Hogwarts, Ossivia knew Ravenclaws were the smallest group in the school, yet entirely self-centered.

They weren't rule-breakers like Gryffindors, nor ambitious schemers like Slytherins, and they certainly weren't as grounded and unassuming as Hufflepuffs.

Would a poor Ravenclaw willingly forgo an opportunity that worked in his favor?

No matter how she thought about it, the answer seemed like a definitive no.

The memory of her last conversation with the boy two hours earlier surfaced in her mind.

"Wait, Senior Ossivia."

"What is it?"

"I wanted to ask—when are we going back?"

"Between mid-July and August, after I finish my business here."

Suddenly, Ossivia bolted upright as if propelled by a spring.

No!

Why did he ask me when we're going back?

A sense of unease gnawed at her. Sitting on the edge of the bed for a moment, she quickly slipped into her slippers, the sound of her hurried steps echoing through the room as she crossed the living area. She stepped over the hissing green snake sprawled on the floor and arrived at Hoffa's door.

Knock-knock-knock!

Knock-knock-knock!

She pounded hard on the door.

"Hoffa, are you in there?"

There was no response.

The unsettling feeling grew stronger. Though her protective enchantments hadn't been triggered, something felt very wrong.

"Hoffa, are you asleep?"

Still no reply.

Without hesitation, Ossivia turned the handle and opened the door.

She flicked on the lights.

The bed's blanket was raised high, seemingly covering someone underneath.

Had she been mistaken? Narrowing her green eyes, she strode over and yanked back the covers.

Underneath lay a pillow shaped like a human body, with large letters scrawled across it:

"Bye-bye, see you in mid-July!"

Transfiguration!

Ossivia clutched her head, biting her lip in frustration.

"Damn you, Ravenclaw!"

Cursing aloud, she stormed into the living room. The green snake shrank rapidly, coiling itself around her neck to form a shimmering necklace.

That boy wants to get to Spain. He can't have gone far!

She was right—Hoffa hadn't gone far. He was downstairs.

Under the soft glow of old tungsten lamps, surrounded by green trees in the parking lot, moths fluttered relentlessly, crashing into the bulbs with such fervor it was as if they wouldn't stop until the glass shattered.

Hoffa carried a heap of luggage, while the boy with only a functional neck sat in a wheelchair, rolling alongside him. As they moved, the boy rattled off instructions:

"We'll drive to Tangier Port near the Strait of Gibraltar, then take a boat to Spain. I've got another car there. Just get me to Barcelona as fast as possible."

"Hopefully."

Hoffa had no understanding of these geographical terms but sensed a tension in the air.

After setting the bags down, Hoffa picked the disabled boy up from the wheelchair. He was astonishingly light—so light he weighed less than 11-year-old Aglaia.

"Which one's your car?" Hoffa asked, carrying him toward the parking lot.

"That one—the Alfa Romeo."

"Which Alfa Romeo?"

"Ugh! Don't you wizards know anything? The red one with silver rims—the convertible. The keys are in my pocket."

As he spoke, Sylby stuck out his tongue, pointing toward a sleek, red two-door vintage car with his tongue.

Hoffa was momentarily taken aback but quickly approached the shiny red car. Retrieving the keys from Sylby's pocket, he opened the door, carefully placed the boy inside, and adjusted his position for comfort.

"This is the 8C 2900B," Sylby said enthusiastically from the passenger seat. "A 2.9-liter inline-eight engine with 220 horsepower. The latest Muggle sports car. Ever seen one?"

"Nope, no idea," Hoffa replied curtly.

He opened the trunk, stowed the luggage, and looked around warily. His sharp instincts told him he needed to leave as soon as possible.

"You really should pay more attention to Muggle technology, Mr. Bach. I believe the beauty of machinery will dominate the world for a long time to come."

"Hmm."

Hoffa responded dismissively as he climbed into the driver's seat.

He could drive, sure, but handling an 80-year-old vintage car? That was a first for him. Well, vintage wasn't exactly the right term, as the car was cutting-edge for its time and stood out among the dozens of vehicles parked outside the hotel.

As Hoffa inserted the key into the ignition and fiddled awkwardly with the controls, Sylby's tone turned skeptical.

"Mr. Bach, I'm starting to doubt whether you actually know how to drive."

"Don't distract me. I'll get you to Spain safely," Hoffa snapped, the sense of unease in his chest growing steadily stronger. What was causing it?

"Then perhaps you should start by buckling my seatbelt, shouldn't you?" Sylby quipped from the passenger seat, sprawled limply.

Realizing his oversight, Hoffa silently cursed himself. Leaning over, he reached to secure Sylby's seatbelt.

But at that exact moment, the hotel's glass doors burst open with a loud bang.

A woman in a light green robe stood at the entrance of the parking lot, glaring at him furiously and shouting,

"Hoffa, stop right there!"

Still fussing with the seatbelt, Hoffa turned his head to see Ossivia, storming toward him under a date palm tree. She hadn't even bothered to change out of her sleepwear or slippers.

His face darkened. Of course, this sharp-witted Slytherin senior wouldn't let him off easily. She had figured out his ploy before sunrise.

Striding purposefully, Ossivia drew her wand and commanded, "Get out of the car. Now."

Hoffa had no time to waste. Abandoning the seatbelt, he stomped on the gas pedal. The bullet-shaped vintage car belched a puff of blue smoke and roared to life.

"Whoa!" Sylby exclaimed as the sudden acceleration slammed him into the seat, his tongue lolling comically.

"Hold on!"

Hoffa gripped the polished wooden steering wheel, making a sharp turn as the car sputtered toward the hotel exit.

"You're not getting away!"

Furious, Ossivia waved her wand. The ground in front of Hoffa began to twist and warp, forming a series of obstacles.

But Hoffa wasn't fazed. He entered a meditative state, his mental force field spreading over the path ahead. The obstacles buckled under the pressure of his mind, flattening back into the ground.

Simultaneously, Hoffa floored the gas pedal and yelled back, "Why does it bother you if I make money? What are you, some busybody?"

Ossivia didn't reply. Her strides quickened as she broke into a run, her form shifting rapidly.

Hoffa caught sight of her shadow on the wall—it elongated unnaturally, morphing from human to serpentine. A chill ran down his spine. Trouble was brewing.

She's an Animagus, he realized. And a snake no less.

The girl's transformation unfolded before his eyes. Her shadow grew larger, and with a flash of green light, glistening scales emerged, until she had become an enormous serpent, easily eight or nine meters long.

"What the—hey, is that your girlfriend?" Sylby shouted excitedly, his voice brimming with amusement.

"Girlfriend? Are you blind? Look at me, then look at her!" Hoffa bellowed.

"Oh? Then is she your sister? Your aunt, maybe? How about introducing her to me? I'll trade you this car for her!"

The car jolted violently as it sped over the uneven terrain. Sylby's limp body flopped back and forth with each bump, yet his mouth kept spewing cheeky remarks.

"Shut up!" Hoffa roared.

Hoffa had no time to dwell on his employer's status as he quickly shifted gears and increased speed.

In the rearview mirror, the massive dark green serpent slithered like lightning, coiling around a tower column before darting to the rooftop. Perched high above, it flicked its tongue menacingly, locking onto Hoffa's position. Moments later, Ossivia disappeared into thin air with a sharp crack of Apparition.

A surge of magical energy rippled from up ahead.

Hoffa's scalp tingled as he yanked the steering wheel and slammed the brakes. The car veered sharply, skidding over a strip of greenery and plowing into a side road.

Ossivia reappeared just in time to be hit by a spray of dust and gravel kicked up by the car's tires. Her frustration boiled over as her chest heaved with fury.

The car bounced violently over the uneven terrain, yet the paralyzed boy in the passenger seat burst into loud laughter.

"This is amazing!" he exclaimed, craning his neck—the only part of his body he could move—to glance at Ossivia, who stood disheveled and enraged.

"Come on, miss! Step it up! At this rate, you'll never catch us!"

Hoffa was stunned. This guy's actually provoking her?!

"Can you shut up?" Hoffa snapped.

"Shut up? Bro, this is what life's about! Ha! I knew finding you was the right choice!"

Ignoring the deranged boy, Hoffa checked the rearview mirror. Ossivia was already aiming her wand at them, her face contorted with anger.

The air shimmered with magical energy.

To make matters worse, Hoffa realized he'd taken a wrong turn into a dead end.

A beam of cyan-colored light from a Petrificus Totalus curse shot through the air toward them.

Trapped—dead-end ahead, and spells behind.

Clenching his teeth, Hoffa's golden eyes gleamed with determination.

Shattergrasp!

The ground trembled and heaved as massive stone pillars erupted skyward, forming a ramp-like structure.

Hoffa shifted gears, and the vintage car roared as it climbed the slope. Beside him, Sylby bounced like he was strapped to a jackhammer, cackling maniacally.

"This is insane! Hahaha!"

Hoffa gritted his teeth and reached out to steady the hysterical Sylby, preventing him from flying out of the car. With one hand on the wheel, Hoffa maneuvered the car onto the rooftops of a nearby residential district.

Behind them, Ossivia was both stunned and furious. She hadn't expected this first-year graduate to be such a formidable opponent.

Stomping her foot in frustration, she morphed again—this time keeping her upper body human while her lower half transformed into a massive serpent's tail.

Like a half-human, half-snake banshee, she slithered with terrifying speed toward the red vintage car navigating the rooftops.

Hoffa scanned his surroundings, heart pounding. This senior was relentless, sticking to him like a shadow. Meanwhile, the car could barely maintain speed on the rooftops and had no clear way down.

Ossivia's serpentine agility gave her a significant advantage.

This won't work. She'll catch us in no time.

Eyes fixed ahead, Hoffa's focus intensified.

The magical energy in his body began to drain rapidly.

Under the influence of his mental force field, loose tiles and stones rearranged themselves, forming a new path. A makeshift road of debris appeared mid-air, as if drawn together by an invisible magnetic force.

Hoffa turned the wheel sharply, driving onto the temporary floating roadway.

(To be continued)

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