Harry Potter: I am the Legend

Ten minutes later, Norber finished his meal, left ten pence on the table, and leisurely made his way toward the edge of the North Sea.

At the corner of the street, he pulled out his wand and tapped his face. "Facial Transformation."

In an instant, his appearance changed, making him look younger—a man with a scarred face and a bushy beard.

Only now did he feel slightly more at ease. The faint sense of being watched earlier had left him uncomfortable. However, the observer was clearly skilled in mental energy manipulation, leaving no trace for Norber to track.

He began walking along the coastline, hoping to find a cargo ship headed toward his destination. But after covering nearly ten kilometers along the shore, he found not a single vessel.

The sky was dull and overcast, a dim grayish-white. There was no sun, only oppressive clouds, creating an unclean and eerie atmosphere. The silence was unnerving—no bird calls, just the relentless crashing of the sea. The water wasn't the usual blue; it was a murky gray, frothy and tangled with black seaweed, like the turbulent waters of the Styx.

Gazing out at his distant target across the sea, Norber, frustrated, kicked a shell, sending it flying dozens of meters.

"Damn it! This is ridiculous!" he cursed habitually.

"Why are there no boats?!"

After venting his anger, he calmed down a bit, rubbing his chin as he muttered to himself, "Should I Apparate there...?"

The thought had barely formed when he vigorously shook his head. With someone clearly tracking him, he might not have been exposed yet, but using Apparition would almost certainly reveal his location. That wasn't an option.

Having made up his mind, Norber returned to the Muggle town and started searching along the inland rivers instead.

Before long, he arrived at an inland river dock. This place bustled with activity as Muggle ships loaded and unloaded goods.

He began asking around, trying to find a cargo ship that could take him to the island at the edge of the North Sea. However, no one was willing to go there. Some captains even waved him away the moment they heard the island's name.

Norber questioned every person he could, but no one agreed.

Frustrated and irritated, he finally sat down on a bench at the dock to think of another plan.

Just then, he noticed a rickety cargo ship chugging toward the dock.

Onboard, a thin man dressed like a Muggle policeman sat squatting on the deck, smoking idly. His face was gaunt, with dark circles under his eyes.

As the ship docked, another man, round as a balloon and wearing a filthy apron that resembled a chef's, began unloading wooden crates one by one onto the ship.

At first glance, the scene seemed ordinary. But Norber's sharp eyes noticed something off—the ship's waterline didn't change, no matter how much cargo was loaded.

This blatant defiance of physics made it clear—the ship was enchanted with a Floating Charm. It was a wizard's vessel.

Norber stood up and approached the ship. "Excuse me, where is this ship headed?"

The thin man glanced at him, turned away, and said nothing.

Norber stepped closer, undeterred. "Are you going to Rurles Island? If so, I'll pay you."

The thin man gave him a once-over but remained silent.

Norber looked around, then lowered his voice. "I have gold Galleons. A lot of them."

The thin man froze mid-puff of his cigarette.

"You're a wizard?"

Norber snorted in confirmation.

The thin man grinned, revealing blackened teeth and inflamed gums. "That place is haunted. We're not going there."

"Haunted? You're a wizard, and you believe Muggle rumors?"

"Wizard?" The thin man chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint, but we're Squibs, my brother and I."

Squibs.

Norber's gaze shifted to the rotund man loading crates. When the man turned around, Norber noticed his mouth was sewn shut with thread, emitting muffled grunts.

The thin man caught Norber's surprised look and smirked. "Guess why?"

"I don't know."

"He eats too much. If I didn't seal his mouth, he'd devour all my savings."

He cackled maniacally, then banged on the ship's side.

"Get a move on, you idiot! What's the point of feeding you so much if you're this slow?"

The fat man quickened his pace, frantically loading crates. Eventually, he collapsed onto the deck with a thud, gasping comically as drool seeped from his stitched mouth.

"Useless!"

The thin man stepped over his brother, stomping on him for good measure, before heading to the control panel. He started the engine.

The rusty cargo ship chugged to life, weaving nimbly through the crowded river like a slippery eel—far too agile for its decrepit appearance.

Norber had to grip the railing tightly to avoid falling. The Muggles around them seemed completely unaware of the peculiar little vessel, as if they couldn't even see it.

Once they reached the open waters of the North Sea, the ship steadied.

Finally, Norber released his grip on the railing and climbed to his feet.

At this point, the thin man steering the ship asked, "Hey, tough guy. How old are you?"

"Older than you," Norber replied indifferently.

"What's your name?"

"None of your business," Norber said warily. "Why, are you doing a background check?"

"Oh, no, no, just curious, that's all," the thin man laughed to himself, but Norber ignored him.

"You've got some impressive muscles. Not many people can stand steady on my ship—Teo can't even manage that."

Norber glanced at the large man named Teo, sprawled lazily on the deck, rolling back and forth with the motion of the ship like a clumsy dog.

"Don't mind him. My brother's a bit... slow," the thin man said with a grin, his eyes darting to the scars on Norber's face. "How'd you get those scars?"

Norber shifted his gaze away and replied casually, "From work."

"Oh? What kind of work?"

The thin man seemed overly friendly.

"Security," Norber said flatly.

The sight of the thin man's red, exposed gums unsettled Norber. He didn't want to engage with this strange individual any further.

"Security, huh? That's much better than our work, haha," the thin man said, letting out a few erratic laughs. "My brother and I don't have much skill, so we're stuck doing grunt work, delivering cargo."

"Cargo? Who do you deliver for?" Norber asked absentmindedly.

"Deliver? Do you even know what kind of ship this is?"

Norber: "No idea."

"Hey, Teo! What kind of ship is this?"

The fat man on the deck raised a leg and thumped it against a scythe-and-Reaper emblem painted on the ship's metal side.

"This..."

The thin man grinned. "This is a supply ship for Azkaban Prison."

Norber was startled. His hand instinctively moved toward the wand in his pocket, but slowly, he regained his composure.

"Wizard, if you're headed to Rurles Island, why not just Apparate there?" the thin man asked.

Norber turned to him and replied coolly, "Would you dare Apparate in Azkaban's jurisdiction?"

"If I were a wizard, of course, I would. I'm not a criminal," the thin man said.

He adjusted the ship's direction. At that moment, a wave struck from the left, causing the ship to shake violently. A cargo crate fell from above, and a fleeting shadow passed behind it.

Out of the corner of his eye, Norber noticed something unusual. He whipped his head around, his hand darting to his waist. He had distinctly felt a faint magical disturbance from the shadows. But upon closer inspection, there was nothing. This heightened his vigilance.

"And you? Are you a criminal?"

The thin man continued his chatter.

"No," Norber replied, turning to him.

"Is there anyone else on this ship?"

"No, just me and Teo," the thin man said with a grin. "This ship's run by the two of us—how could there be anyone else?"

Norber ignored him and reached into his coat. With his left hand, he drew a wand, and with his right, he pulled out a large-caliber alchemical pistol. He slowly made his way to the stern, where the waves were crashing.

He looked down but saw nothing—just the dark seawater churning white foam under the propeller's spin.

Holding his breath, Norber carefully observed for a moment before holstering both the wand and the pistol. Without saying a word, he returned to the bow.

The thin man, still steering, asked curiously, "Hey, buddy, what were you looking at?"

"Nothing," Norber said, though an uneasy feeling had taken root in his heart.

If the Ministry of Magic had sent someone else to hunt him down, this pursuer seemed far more cautious—and far more dangerous—than any before.

(End of Chapter)

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