Harry Potter: I am the Legend

Hoffa didn't linger long in the depths of despair before the pursuit arrived like a shadow following his every move.

Footsteps echoed from the narrow stone steps of the alley nearby.

Soldiers were coming!

Ossivia barely had time to process her astonishment. Snapping out of her daze, she swiftly stepped forward, grabbing hold of Hoffa and Silby's wheelchair.

Snap!

With a surge of intense magical energy, Hoffa felt as though his entire body was being shoved into a rubber tube, his limbs and features compressed into his torso.

They spun through the void, vanishing from the alley and reappearing on the rooftop of a six-story building nearby—Ossivia had Apparated them to safety.

The moment they materialized on the rooftop, a squad of soldiers charged into the alley below.

They prodded the fallen baguette on the ground with their Mauser rifles, speaking rapidly in a language Hoffa didn't understand. The leader gestured sharply, and the soldiers fanned out, heading off in different directions to search.

Ossivia watched the scene below intently. Once the soldiers dispersed, she released Hoffa's wrist, stepped back with her arms crossed, and fixed him with a cold glare.

Hoffa only then realized he was still in his disguise. With a shiver, he swiftly dispelled all the Transfiguration spells.

It took him a moment to gather his thoughts before he finally stammered, "Ossivia, senior... let me explain. It's not what it looks like."

But Ossivia merely cast him a lifeless look. Though the term "pervert" didn't yet exist in this era, the way she looked at him unmistakably conveyed that sentiment.

"Whatever hobbies you have are none of my business," she said icily.

Hoffa nearly stumbled.

At this point, no one was more desperate than him to end this wretched journey. He longed to return to London, sever ties with these two, and pretend this entire ordeal had never happened.

Silby interjected with a drawl, "Honestly, I think that outfit suited you, Hoffa. If we had the chance, I'd love to take you to the World Expo like that."

"Shut up."

"Enough nonsense."

Ossivia and Hoffa cut him off in unison.

Ossivia said, "I've already checked the routes. If you want to get to Barcelona, the fastest way is to travel from Granada to Valencia and then to Barcelona. Following the Mediterranean coast, it should take no more than a week. If we move quickly, we can get there in three days."

As she spoke, she produced a slip of paper covered with meticulous notes on several travel routes.

Hoffa glanced at it briefly before sighing. "Driving is out of the question. Our car is probably impounded at the German military headquarters by now."

"What?" Ossivia frowned in displeasure. "Muggle soldiers impounded your car? What do you mean?"

Silby, with an air of smug bravado, recounted their earlier escapades to Ossivia, embellishing the story as if it were a tale of heroism.

When he finished, Ossivia pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"You disguised yourselves as German officers just for a meal?"

Silby replied, "What else? Starve to death?"

Ossivia sneered. "Is your stomach more important than your safety? Why didn't you wait for me to return?"

Silby shot back, "You abandoned us first!"

Sensing the brewing storm, Hoffa quickly intervened to steer the conversation away. "There are other options, right? We could take a train. There are plenty of trains around here."

"If we're taking a train, we need to move quickly," Ossivia said. "Impersonating military officers is a serious crime. Rumor has it the German Muggle leader is in this city right now. With what you've done, the Gestapo might lock down all train stations at any moment. If that happens, we won't be able to leave the city."

"We leave now?"

Ossivia nodded. "There's no time to waste. Get ready immediately."

Hoffa knew she was right. From their vantage point atop the building, they could see soldiers running in all directions below.

A few soldiers were shouting in incomprehensible Spanish nearby.

"But how do we leave?" Hoffa murmured. "Can we Apparate straight to the train station?"

"No," Ossivia said firmly. "Apparition requires precise knowledge of the target location. I've never been to this city's train station, so I can't Apparate us there."

Ossivia paused for a moment and then said, "Didn't you hear what those Muggle soldiers just said? They're looking for a boy pushing a wheelchair. The way you two look now, you'll be spotted the moment you step out."

"Hoffa could dress as a woman," Silby suggested enthusiastically.

Hoffa smacked him on the head, gritting his teeth. "Say that again, and I'll push you off this roof."

Ossivia remained expressionless. "No matter how you disguise yourselves, you and your wheelchair are too conspicuous."

"Then what do we do?"

The three of them fell silent.

"I could ride on your shoulders, maybe?" Silby suggested, looking at Hoffa. "Then cover us with a robe, and we'd look like a single adult."

"Really?" Hoffa turned his head slowly, a cold smile on his face. "You can't even control your bladder. Do you think I'd let you ride on my shoulders?"

Silby rolled his eyes.

"Fine," Ossivia said. "Just carry him. Do whatever it takes—just no wheelchair."

Carry him?

Hoffa reluctantly agreed. He lifted Silby out of the wheelchair, grasping his cold, shrunken arms, and hoisted him onto his back.

Ossivia then pulled a pair of gloves from her pocket, put them on, and picked up Silby's blanket, draping it over Hoffa's back.

Next, she took out her wand and tapped Hoffa, transforming the blanket into a white Arabian robe.

Silby's muffled voice came from beneath the blanket. "You really despise me, don't you?"

Ignoring him, Ossivia pulled a few makeup brushes from her bag and applied some to Hoffa's face. With a flick of her wand and a soft incantation, she said, "Transform and conceal."

Hoffa instantly felt lines forming on his face. Catching his reflection in Ossivia's compact mirror, he saw that he had been transformed into a hunchbacked, elderly man.

Four disguises in one day, Hoffa thought, his mind flashing to the image of a shapeshifting character.

"This will do," Ossivia said, taking off her gloves. She tapped Silby's wheelchair with her wand, turning it into a large suitcase, which she tossed to Hoffa.

"Follow me to the train station, and don't say a word."

She grabbed Hoffa's shoulder, and snap!They Apparated to the street below.

Ossivia led the way, while Hoffa hunched his back and followed behind.

The streets were lined with German and Spanish soldiers conducting checkpoint inspections. Thanks to Ossivia's meticulous disguise, no one managed to see through Hoffa's transformation.

The trio passed through the layers of security unscathed, eventually reaching the Granada train station nestled in the mountain valley.

However, the station was already swarming with German soldiers, their rifles slung over their shoulders as they patrolled back and forth. Hoffa could also faintly sense a subtle, familiar trace of magical energy in the air.

The magical aura was peculiar yet vaguely recognizable.

Ossivia frowned and said quietly, "There are wizards among these Muggle soldiers. Apparating in will definitely get us caught."

"Walk in? I can't buy tickets like this," Hoffa whispered.

Ossivia stood on her toes, observing for a moment before replying, "Follow me, and don't make any sudden movements."

Hoffa stayed put as Ossivia stepped forward, her wand tucked under her arm. Approaching two guards at the gate, she spoke rapidly in a foreign language, gesturing occasionally toward Hoffa.

The two guards immediately grew suspicious, their eyes narrowing. But Ossivia gave a slight flick of her wand.

A faint white light flashed, and the guards' bodies jerked momentarily before their faces softened into vacant smiles, their eyes glazed as if their souls had been stolen.

Ossivia beckoned Hoffa forward.

As they passed the entranced guards, Hoffa whispered, "Was that the Imperius Curse?"

"Don't speak," Ossivia said curtly.

Hoffa shut his mouth, his view of Ossivia shifting once again. It was becoming clear she wasn't an ordinary student destined for a mundane post-graduation life. She must have undergone specialized Auror training—there was no other way she could wield the Imperius Curse with such ease.

With Ossivia's help, the trio advanced smoothly.

But just as Hoffa stepped onto the rickety train platform, his eyes caught sight of a trampled flyer on the ground.

The flyer was brightly colored, standing out starkly against the green floor.

At first, Hoffa didn't pay it much attention. But after taking a couple of steps, he couldn't resist turning back. There was something strangely familiar about it.

He crouched down.

Sure enough, on the tattered flyer, Hoffa saw a vaguely familiar image—a king's head surrounded by machinery and weapons.

The flyer had the words in English: "Believe in the Half-Blood King, Gain Infinite Power."

Hoffa furrowed his brow deeply.

He was certain he'd seen this flyer in London before, yet here it was again on a train in Spain.

How could this be such a coincidence?

Wasn't English forbidden in Spain? Why would anyone be distributing English flyers here?

Before Hoffa could think further, Silby, perched on his shoulders, was jostled as several passengers carrying large bags bumped into him.

In a low voice from behind Hoffa, Silby grumbled, "What are you looking at? Get moving already."

Hoffa slowly stood up and caught up with Ossivia ahead, but his mind kept circling back to the image on that flyer.

Ossivia led Hoffa and Silby through the train's corridor, finally stopping at the third-class section at the rear of the train.

The area was packed with farmers carrying heavy bags and bundles, and the air was thick with the damp, earthy scent of mud. The seats were basic wooden benches.

Ossivia found a spot, pulled out a handkerchief and her wand, and cleaned it before sitting down with one leg crossed over the other.

Hoffa didn't care about the seating. He lifted Silby off his back, set him down across from Ossivia, and took a seat beside him.

But Silby muttered in a low voice, "Why are we sitting in this filthy section? Don't you have a cleanliness obsession?"

Ossivia replied calmly, "This is the most crowded and therefore the safest place. If anyone is looking for you, they'll need more time to find you."

"You're paranoid. Who would come looking for me?" Silby sneered.

Before he could finish his sentence, a newspaper came spiraling through the air and landed with a smack on Silby's face.

"Paranoid?" Ossivia said coldly. "Take a look at this—it's a paper from two days ago. Now, tell me, who exactly is chasing you?"

Both Silby and Hoffa leaned forward to look.

It was indeed a newspaper from two days prior. On the front page were several black-and-white photos.

As Hoffa examined them closely, his expression shifted to shock. He immediately grabbed the paper.

Even though the photos were in black and white, they couldn't conceal the overwhelming sense of bloodshed that seemed to leap off the page.

The words on the paper were in a language Hoffa couldn't read, but the context was clear enough:

Moroccan Massacre!!

In one of the photos, the corpse of the wizard Raymond Lebrun—who had introduced Hoffa to the job—lay limply in a basement. There was a large hole in his forehead, and dried blood stained the floor beneath him.

The date on the paper was from two days ago.

Raymond had been shot and killed the very night Hoffa left Morocco!

Hoffa felt a chill spreading through his limbs.

Another gunshot killing.

It was just like the murder of the Soviet Ministry of Magic official three months ago.

"What exactly are you looking for with that key?" Hoffa set the paper down, his face pale but resolute. "Does this have something to do with it?"

(End of chapter)

Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon

https://patreon.com/Glimmer09