The Return to Hogwarts

But there's nothing we can do about it. When the destination isn't clear, using Apparition isn't a good option, and flying brooms require a lot of stamina, so wizards on long journeys wouldn't normally choose them.

Amostella opened her sleepy eyes and glanced at the bed beside her; Sirius Black was not in the room.

With his gaze piercing through the walls of the cabin, which were already seeping with seawater, Amosta 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 smell of the sea and rust.

Everything in the field of vision was crooked and tilted. At the end of the passage, a disheveled Muggle sailor had strapped himself to the handrail with a seatbelt and was resting with his eyes closed.

The seemingly careless sailor was more alert than expected. The moment Amosta's hand touched the cold doorknob, he immediately opened his eyes, grabbed Amosta's wrist, and stared intently at Amosta through his disheveled hair.

"What do you want to do?"

“I have a friend on the deck, I’m going to go find him.”

"Stop talking nonsense!"

The sailor bluntly exposed the 'lie,' having to shout to make his voice reach Amosta's ears.

“I’ve been here the whole time, sir. Nobody has passed by here. Besides, there’s a typhoon going on outside right now, and the waves are several stories high. If your friend is really out there, he’s definitely not on deck. I bet he’s feeding the fish at the bottom of the sea!”

“You’re really unlucky tonight, brother—” A hint of helplessness flashed in Amostella’s eyes, “Hopefully, getting hit by two Confusion Charms won’t damage your brain—”

"what?"

The sailor sounded confused, but before he could ask anything, the world before him suddenly became blurry, and his mind became blurry as well.

Click!

The sailor unlatched the door and opened the heavy iron gate for Amosta, ignoring the raging wind and rain, and cheerfully said...

"What lovely weather, sir! The sun is shining and the sea breeze is gentle. I hope you have a pleasant journey!"

"Thanks--"

Amosta nodded politely, stepped over the threshold, and shakily climbed the steel ladder onto the deck.

Amidst the raging waves, the ferry, with its considerable displacement, resembled a small boat, rising and falling with the surging tides. Amosta could constantly hear the chilling sound of steel deforming, as if the ferry would disintegrate in the turbulent waves at any moment.

The ferry seemed to be sailing in the dark, the night sky was completely black, and the sea was a deep inky black. There seemed to be a strange force around it that swallowed up all the lights emitted by the ferry itself.

This is the power of heaven and earth!

Amosta stared at a wave higher than the bow of the ship, and this thought suddenly popped into his mind.

He wasn't unfamiliar with sailing, but in the past, it was always for missions and for secrecy. He rarely used wizarding or Muggle modes of transportation, opting instead for the more agile flying broomstick. This was his first time sailing in a Muggle manner, and from a Muggle's perspective, the power of nature was truly terrifying.

Not only Muggles, but even wizards cannot contend with the forces of nature.

The waves crashed onto the deck, carrying away several buckets that hadn't been properly secured.

Sirius used a little magic to secure himself to the deck, but he didn't cast a waterproof spell on himself, and his figure was swallowed up by the ink-colored waves.

Buzz.

A hidden magical barrier adhered to his body, and Amosta floated slightly, coming to Sirius's side.

Looking for thrills?

"Just reminiscing about the past—" Sirius wiped the seawater from his face, a hint of melancholy in his smile, "After escaping from Azkaban, I drifted at sea alone for weeks. It seems like it was around this time of year too. Hmm, it's only been less than a year, but it feels like so many years—"

Amosta pursed her lips, smiled softly, but said nothing.

"I was truly desperate at that time--"

Sirius Black kept his eyes closed, letting the icy seawater slap his face haphazardly.

"I carefully avoided the sirens and mermaids, and when the sea was calm, I would find some fish to eat. Sometimes, there would be no rain for days on end, and I could only drink the blood of those big fish to survive. When the wind blew up, I had no control over my movements, and the waves would toss me dozens of feet into the air, or plunge me into the deep sea. Countless times, I thought I was going to die. Hiss--"

Being there in person made those memories feel even more real and vivid, and Sirius shuddered violently a few times.

Amosta knew Sirius needed someone to confide in, so he remained silent. Fortunately, Sirius quickly regained his composure, sighed deeply, and suppressed all his emotions.

"No one knows the exact location of Azkaban; rumors say it's in the North Sea. We can only wait and see—"

"Why don't we go directly from Aberdeen to the North Sea, instead of going to the Shetland Islands first?"

Amosta asked with some curiosity.

"Because that's where I got ashore—"

Sirius explained.

"I was carried by the ocean currents to a point not far from the mainland, where the waves became a little calmer. Back at Hogwarts, I did fairly well in astronomy, and I used what I'd learned from Aurora about planetary orbits to determine my location. I tried to adjust my direction, but it was still very difficult. By the time I could see the coastline, I was completely exhausted."

A smile suddenly appeared on Sirius's lips.

"I couldn't maintain my Animagus form and turned 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 recover my strength as soon as possible and then sneak around in my Animagus form again. I promised John that I would go back to see him when the time is right."

"So, where does this old fisherman live?"

Amosta asked gently.

At this moment, the gale tore through the endless layers of dark clouds in the night sky, and a beam of moonlight, as bright as holy light, shone on the distant island.

A faint light appeared and disappeared in the vast sea.

"what--"

Sirius cried out in delight.

He's right there!

Chapter 420 Lighthouse

2023-08-14

According to Muggle research, the Shetland Islands have been found to have traces of human activity dating back to 3000 BC.

This island group has changed hands several times. For centuries after the Roman Empire, the Vikings largely controlled the archipelago. In the 8th and 9th centuries, the ancient Scandinavians invaded and ruled the islands until the 15th century. Later, the King of Norway pawned the islands to the Kingdom of Scotland for financial support, and the Shetland Islands officially became part of Scotland.

This northernmost island in Britain has always been sparsely populated. Even today, only 15 of the scattered islands in this area are inhabited, with a population of less than 30,000.

If it weren't for the fact that in recent years, wealthy people with nothing to do have been flocking to remote areas, and this strange behavior has brought some economic benefits, the remaining people would probably have quickly moved to big cities as well.

Old John was not a native of the Shetland Islands, nor even an Aberdeen.

He came from Newcastle in eastern England. During World War II, he was drafted into the army and, after many twists and turns, finally fought against the invading enemy in this very sea. That fierce battle left one of his legs less functional; when the weather was damp and cold, his injured leg would ache and stiffen terribly, making it difficult for him to sleep.

However, old John never complained.

After all, in order to resist the invasion, his unit was wiped out in a little-known battle in this sea area, and he was the only survivor.

After the war ended, John returned to Newcastle. He thought he could finally live a happy and peaceful life, but when he returned to the home he had longed for, he found not only his wife lying in the bedroom, but also another man with very white buttocks.

Old John only remembered that the man's buttocks were very white, but he didn't remember his face. Because, the moment he saw this scene, Old John pulled out his gun and shot the man in the head. After looking sadly at his screaming wife, Old John fled the house.

Everything is fate.

Old John returned to the place where he had fought. He used his post-military pension to buy a house in the town closest to the coast, but over the years he had hardly ever lived in it, preferring to stay in the lighthouse standing on the sea cliff.

The lighthouse keeper—this was the job the townspeople assigned to him after learning he was a veteran who had fought off the enemy.

In previous years, this job did have some use; it could light the way home for fishermen lost at sea. But these days, the townspeople almost never go to sea anymore; they prefer to serve tourists. This job is safer, and they earn more money.

Boom, boom, boom!

Last night's cold, roaring sea seemed like a dream; as the sun rose, the boundless ocean regained its jewel-like blue. Golden sunlight spilled onto the beach, and seagulls soared freely along the shore.

The rusty subway doors were knocked on, waking up old John, who had been suffering from leg pain all night and had barely slept.

"You little bastards, if you don't shut up, I'll shove a gun barrel into your ass right in front of your parents!"

Old John, with his stubble beard, got out of bed and roared angrily.

In the past, fishermen returning from the sea would come here to give some of the sea's bounty as a token of their gratitude. However, since this tradition, which had been passed down for thousands of years in this land, fell out of fashion, Old John's place has seen few visitors. Only some mischievous boys from the town come to him for fun.

These little rascals would steal the dried fish he laid out to dry on the rocks and feed it to the seagulls, or they would smash the old-fashioned gas lamp on top of the lighthouse with stones.

Boom boom boom!

The knocking sounded again, but this time, it made Old John's eyes light up with a hint of wariness.

If those little guys really were coming to cause trouble again, they should have been scared away by that shout earlier, and wouldn't be so brazenly knocking on his door again!

Old John casually took the hunting rifle hanging on the wall, then, with a limp, he went down the spiral staircase and finally stood behind the iron gate.

Click!

With the bullet chambered, Old John nimbly pulled open the iron gate. Before he could even utter a sound, he raised the barrel of his gun and pointed it menacingly at the knocker's head!

"Who are you guys?! Oh!"

A surprised cry mingled with the ethereal cry of a seagull as it soared into the high, azure sky.

Perhaps due to the dim lighting, Old John's living room on the lower level of the lighthouse appeared very messy, with odds and ends piled up everywhere, and dried fish hanging from the ceiling filling the room with an unpleasant fishy smell.

"This place is similar in style to Hagrid's house—"

There were no chairs in the room, so Amosta lifted a corner of his coat and sat comfortably on the blackened steps, looking around the room with great interest.

"Hagrid?"

The water on the stove was boiling, bubbling away. Old John, limping, picked up the kettle and started making tea for Sirius and Amosta. Hearing Amosta say this, Old John asked gruffly,

"Is he also a lighthouse keeper?"

“Oh, no—” Sirius Black answered the question with a smile, “but it’s close enough. He’s the game keeper at Hogwarts.”