Snape, the Sunshine of Hogwarts.

Chapter 160 A Few Things About Britain

"If, if it were merely a curse..."

Luo Er swallowed hard as he looked at Little Barty.

"A mere curse doesn't mean anything. The master probably wants to protect this treasure that represents his family's status."

Barty glanced indifferently at Rolpe, who was considered not stupid among the Death Eaters, but still not particularly intelligent.

"This is by no means an ordinary treasure; it is merely a precious artifact that can prove the bloodline of the master's family."

He spoke in a fascinated voice.

"Since I got it, I can feel a familiar presence inside! Although I can't communicate with the consciousness inside yet, I'm sure the owner has been reminding me of things through his methods!"

Seeing Little Barty like this, Roel couldn't help but shudder.

He certainly had loyalty to the Dark Lord, but this loyalty was mixed with the premise of gaining benefits, and was far from the unconditional loyalty of people like Barty the Younger.

So sometimes when he sees these people, he feels an involuntary tension.

It felt like being with a madman.

"For example, how about..." he asked cautiously.

"Ever since I got this ring, I've been having dreams about certain things every night."

"Then, maybe you didn't sleep well last night."

"Didn't you get enough rest?" Barty just stared at him coldly. "If I didn't get enough rest, would I see the scene of Master leading people to Hogwarts to find Dumbledore, wanting to get the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor?"

"If I haven't rested well, will I see him disposing of an old locket in a cold, damp cave, and then ordering a house-elf to drink poison?"

"If I don't get enough rest, could I see a witch named Hepzba Smith showing off a golden cup that seems to be from Hufflepuff, passed down from her ancestors, and make him want to kill her?"

"If all of this were just my imagination, how could I have imagined him finding a tall, thick spruce tree in a forest in Albania, and discovering a special crown inside the tree's hollow?"

Under Little Barty's repeated questioning, Roll's back was soaked with sweat, and he shook his head nervously.

"No, no, that's not what I meant! Master trusts you! He... he sent you these images because he wanted to tell you something!"

Little Barty did not continue to mock him after hearing his words.

Just as Raoul said, Little Barty also felt that his master wanted to tell him something, that the images he could see, and that the ring itself must involve some of his master's secrets.

The Potter family's disappearance after the incident that night is very likely related to these secrets!

Seeing that Little Barty was deep in thought, Roll couldn't help but ask in a low voice.

"What...what do you plan to do?"

At his question, Little Barty snapped out of his daze, his expression calming down, a stark contrast to his earlier infatuation and indifference.

"My master has given me so much information and shown me so many things, which likely means that the gold cup, the pendant box, the crown, and this ring are all the same kind of thing, and he is hidden in one of the locations, waiting for us to find him!"

Little Barty carefully put away the black gemstone ring in his hand, staring at Rol and saying coldly.

"Now that you know all this, from now on you are not allowed to have any contact with anyone else. Follow me to the places I saw in my dream."

"Find the owner!"

Dover.

As the shortest Channel crossing connecting Britain and France, before the Channel Tunnel was built, this was the best option for the British to travel to France or the European continent.

Garon Brook, one of the port security guards, is a newcomer who just joined the company this month. Compared to the other seasoned veterans who basically just gather together and chat during work hours, he appears much more cautious and dedicated.

"Brook!" a colleague called out to him, holding a coffee cup. "What are you still inspecting? Are you worried about that Sirius Black, the escaped murderer they were talking about on the news?"

Brooke didn't look at him; he just muttered to himself.

"He might just show up here."

His colleagues heard his voice and burst into laughter.

"We're going to make a fortune! The government's bounty on him is a whopping £80,000! And I heard they're going to add more soon!"

When this topic came up, the colleague stopped paying attention to the young upstart and started discussing with the others over coffee how they would spend the £80,000 reward if any of them got it.

Brooke ignored her colleagues' mockery.

"If he's wanted, why wouldn't he be here?" he muttered to himself.

But in reality, his idea was just an unrealistic fantasy. The British police had also considered the possibility that the criminal might escape from the country, so they had already set up strict checks outside the port. Anyone who wanted to enter the port, regardless of who they were, needed to provide identification.

Meanwhile, police patrol and inspect every passenger ship traveling between Dover and Calais, making life much easier for the private security personnel in the port.

Brooke remained alert, his eyes scanning back and forth like those of an eagle, constantly looking down at the ground, ready to pounce.

"That guy's hat was weird, and he was wearing sunglasses. There was no sun today. Damn it, didn't those cops check him properly?"

"Oh, so he's blind. But he might be faking it. We can't let our guard down!"

"And this, why is that show-off dressed like that?"

"What a weird robe! In this hot weather, oh my god, there are even sequins on it. Is he really a man? The police should investigate him thoroughly from head to toe. Someone like that is definitely not normal. His fake smile disgusts me."

Finally, Brooke gave one last disgusted look to the strange man in the long robe who was clinging to another poorly dressed man—a suit jacket on top and sweatpants on the bottom—who was also wearing a slicked-back robe and a fake smile. Brooke then focused his gaze on the seagulls in the sky.

His mind was very unconventional, and he was already wondering if the murderer Sirius Black might be an animal trainer.

These birds were his spies, relaying the movements of the police and security forces to him so he could evade detection!
And that black dog.

That must belong to Mr. Weber, the caretaker. He keeps many dogs, including quite a few large breeds, and this black dog is probably one of them.

Perhaps the criminal secretly tamed this black dog and used it to help him steal property from the port?

Brooke was still imagining it, but he only blinked once, and the black dog vanished from his sight as if it had never been there.

He could faintly hear a "plop" sound from the sea not far away, like a heavy object falling into the water.

The young security guard turned to look at the blue sea with its rolling waves, but didn't see anyone on it.

He shook his head and refocused his attention on the passageway leading into the port.

The strange duo finally passed through the inspection channel and entered the port. The man in front, wearing glasses, a suit, and sweatpants, seemed particularly annoyed by the man in the long robe with a fake smile following behind him. They had a brief argument, but the fake-smiling man was like a leech, still sticking to him.

Brooke shook his head sympathetically and muttered to himself.

"If I were to get entangled with someone like that, I would definitely grab his meticulously styled hair and punch him in the nose!"

However, what he failed to notice was...

Behind him, on the sea surface he had been observing and hadn't seen anything unusual, a black shadow was faintly visible, rising and falling in the water.

Only when you get close can you see that it is actually the big black dog that Brooke suspected was kept by Mr. Webber, the port manager, at the port!
The black dog skillfully used the dog paddle to swim towards the port of Calais, where France was located, through the surging waves.

Its eyes, which were not at all like those of a normal animal, revealed a strange ferocity and determination!
Severus and his companions in Paris were, of course, unaware of what was happening in Britain.

After a leisurely morning of sightseeing in Paris, Severus took Harry and the others to visit Nicolas Flamel.

The place was already packed with reporters, but no one could actually get in.

They were all blocked outside the Muggle restaurant with the sign that read "Nico Flamel's Former Residence," attracting a crowd of Muggles who pointed and whispered at them.

Severus and his party did not enter through the main entrance, but rather through a wizard's bar in Paris, where they connected to the fireplace in the Lemaître family's house via the Floo Network, and finally arrived.

If they didn't use this method, they would have no chance of breaking through the reporters' encirclement. The interview at the French Ministry of Magic that morning clearly didn't satisfy these news jackals, and they were also searching everywhere for Severus and his group to dig up the exclusive scoop they wanted.

Upon arriving at Nico's house, both Harry and Draco were very curious about the mansion of this world-renowned alchemist.

Contrary to their expectations, this was not a luxurious and spacious residence, but rather a small, somewhat shabby house that would make anyone who came feel uncomfortable.

The cramped space was filled with alchemical tools, ancient books, and containers, revealing traces of hundreds of years of research amidst the chaos.

The location of the alchemy work area was clearly not concealed at all; it was open to them, with crucibles, distillers, heating devices, and large glass containers filled with unknown medicinal materials scattered throughout the room.

Alchemy and potions are inseparable, especially since Nicolas Flamel's potion-making skills were just as good as his alchemy skills!

After seeing some sophisticated tools on the lab table, Harry discussed them with Draco in a skeptical tone, guessing that they were probably the tools Nick could use to brew the elixir of immortality.

Draco looked around, searching, and whispered to Harry if he had seen anything that resembled the Philosopher's Stone.

The two of them showed no signs of having been at each other's throats just hours before. That's how boys are; conflicts come and go quickly, especially after they visited the flying broom shop together and saw those fascinating, latest racing-grade flying brooms.

"Would you like some dessert?" Madame Lemaître asked with a smile, holding a plate of freshly baked cookies that she had made herself.

Harry readily agreed, and after spending the morning strolling around the shopping street, he was quite hungry.

Draco straightened his robes and bowed respectfully in thanks.

"Thank you for your hospitality, madam."

After saying that, he glanced at Harry smugly, as if looking down on his old-fashioned and rude behavior.

Severus and Lupin were sitting with Nicole in the corner of the living room, on old armchairs and recliners (similar to the layout of Freud's therapy room).

Two wizards, both accomplished in potions and alchemy, are discussing some issues, while Lupin, who, despite not having achieved anything remarkable, read a lot and had decent grades in his student days, occasionally joins in their conversation.

"Ever since Isaac created [Star Antimony], few alchemists have developed any truly groundbreaking alchemical substances," Nico remarked with a sigh.

Severus asked, puzzled.

"In the early 20th century, I heard that there was a wizard in America named Waiter who translated a large number of runic alchemical works and achieved remarkable success. Didn't that attract a lot of attention in the magical world at the time?"

Nico shook his head; he clearly knew more inside information.

"That's just a charlatan! American wizards are more modern; most of them will do all sorts of despicable things in pursuit of fame and fortune. They don't follow tradition, well, if they have that kind of thing."

"That's how it was with Waiter. During the time when this news broke, I made a special trip to the United States, wanting to see for myself their so-called latest alchemical research. But those people were unwilling to let me access the ancient books they claimed to have translated, which only contained some rudimentary things that any slightly more experienced alchemist could write."

"Later I realized that they didn't actually have any new research, and the so-called translation of lost ancient books was fake. It was just that Waite wanted to use this to gain fame and sell books. He was afraid that I would expose him, so he kept hiding and dared not see me."

"After figuring out the details, I came back and continued my research on pocket watches, which I hadn't finished before."

Listening to Nico's account, Severus and Lupin both showed surprise; they clearly did not know the true story.

It was only after hearing Nico's final words about the pocket watch research that Severus suddenly remembered something.

"Speaking of pocket watches, I bought something in Knock Lane, England, that claims to be an alchemical product of yours."

(End of this chapter)