Chapter 40
The city greeted me with a cold sea breeze, a gloomy sky, and aggressive seagulls. They circled overhead, screeching at people without the slightest hint of apology. I felt an urge to knock some sense of etiquette into each of them.
The magical district in the city was quiet. It might have seemed lifeless, but that wasn’t the case. The local wizards simply didn’t venture outside unless they had something urgent to attend to. Many of them even worked from home.
As soon as I asked where to buy a ticket for a ship, I was promptly shown the way. The port was bustling with ships leaving, catering to both wizards and non-wizards alike. It had become a popular spot for merchants and small-time traders hoping to make a profit.
The ship I boarded was called the Path of Saint Anne. Without splurging, I secured a mid-priced cabin and wandered through the local shops. Since I couldn’t get to Forks, I decided to satisfy my curiosity by purchasing some magical goods here. I was particularly drawn to potion ingredients and didn’t hesitate to spend on them.
Once I was sure no one was watching, I discreetly ventured into one of the local magical zones to gather ingredients myself. The area was teeming with wonderful herbs, perfect for a variety of potions.
Before departure, I carefully sorted the ingredients into several different bags—these would be gifts for my friends and acquaintances. I had two gifts for Nymphadora and Isolde, one for Dumbledore, and some for the Hogwarts professors. On top of that, I even bought a magical creature as a gift for Hagrid. It all cost money, but I was certain the wizards would appreciate it. I categorized the rest of the ingredients by type, potion purpose, and rarity. Naturally, the rarest ones were in the smallest quantities.
Next, I prepared for the journey itself and the possibility of a magical creature attack aboard the ship. The Path of Saint Anne was a large vessel, transporting not only wizards but also magical creatures that couldn’t be stored in an expanded bag. These creatures were en route to reserves or destined for ingredient processing.
On the day of departure, the sky was thick with clouds, warning everyone that it was not to be trifled with. The seagulls, flying low, circled around, attempting to snatch anything they could. Their cries were especially grating. For a moment, I even considered using a powerful spell to take down a few of them.
Two wizards in red uniforms and black trousers stood on the dock. Both wore belts with holsters for their wands and pouches filled with artifacts. If I wasn’t mistaken, these wizards were considered the elite of the RCMP, the local Auror division.
The wizards were checking passengers before they boarded, using a small artifact. I wasn’t sure what they were looking for, but none of the travelers seemed to have anything out of the ordinary.
"Have a pleasant journey, my friend," one of the wizards said with a warm smile.
"Thank you," I replied with a nod. "And have a good day."
"Much appreciated," he nodded in return.
I climbed aboard and handed my ticket to a short wizard, who quickly checked and stamped it as legitimate.
"Can I help you find your cabin?" one of the ship's attendants, a young woman, asked.
"I think I’ll manage, but thank you," I replied, shaking my head.
My mid-tier cabin was on the first deck. After walking down a narrow corridor, I reached the end where my room was located, its number matching the one on my ticket. The ticket itself acted as the key. I pressed it against the door, opened it, and stepped inside.
The cabin wasn’t the largest or most luxurious, but it suited me just fine. Tossing my cloak onto the bed, I lay down and waited for the ship to set off. It took two more hours before I felt the engines hum to life, and we slowly began to move.
"Welcome aboard the Path of Saint Anne," a voice, magically amplified, echoed through the cabins. "This is Captain Noah Livingston speaking. Our final destination is Marseille, but we will make stops in Reykjavik, the Faroe Islands, Portsmouth, and Marseille. In each corridor, you'll find maps indicating places of interest for leisure and socializing. The crew is here to serve you around the clock to ensure you have everything you need. Have a pleasant voyage."
The Path of Saint Anne was indeed designed for comfortable travel across the globe. It featured restaurants, relaxation rooms, and even a small concert hall. In the holds, they stored animals, and if I wasn’t mistaken, they were currently transporting a young dragon kept under sleep spells. There were other creatures as well, but without seeing them, it was impossible to identify them.
I didn’t interact much with the other wizards, though I did visit the restaurant for meals. The food was included in the ticket price, so it would have been foolish not to take advantage of it. There were even a few moments that revealed the magical world from a different angle.
One of the paths to learning magic is through personal apprenticeship. This route is often taken by wizards who weren’t strong enough to get into top magical schools like Hogwarts or any other standard wizarding institution. Personal apprenticeship can vary—it might focus on a specific discipline, like Charms, or cover more general magical basics.
Up until now, I hadn’t encountered the latter type of apprenticeship, but today was different.
I observed a group of wizards led by a man who appeared to be around thirty, surrounded by five beautiful women who called him "Teacher." It wasn’t hard to see that there was something more between them. From what I could tell, he was teaching them magic, though only sparingly.
Since he lacked mental defenses, I easily learned that he was an Ilvermorny graduate with two Journeyman titles in Charms and Transfiguration, along with a bachelor’s degree in Potions. A respectable set of qualifications, to be honest.
And, of course, he was sleeping with all of his apprentices. His satisfied expression made some of the other wizards envious. I have to admit, I felt a twinge of envy as well, but not enough to be bothered by it.
In my free time, I continued analyzing books I had acquired in Las Vegas, studying theories in various magical fields. Wand-making, according to the texts, is no simple process. You need to find the right base material, select a suitable core, and assemble everything in a way that prevents conflicts between materials. Not to mention the design, since the wand would be used by someone else, which introduces a host of complications.
Once I get home and have my own house and land, I’ll begin my experiments. During this journey, I’ve studied a wide variety of subjects. Plus, I still have a month of access to the Zurich library.
At night, while crossing the Labrador Sea, the ship’s security had a nasty encounter with water monsters. The ship shook during the battle, and passengers were locked in their cabins by special magic. We weren’t allowed out until the security team had dealt with the threat and the ship had passed the dangerous area.
The entire fight lasted just over an hour and a half, which was highly stressful for many of the wizards. I, however, wasn’t worried and spent the time meditating and analyzing my books. Rumor had it that about a dozen security wizards ended up in the ship’s infirmary, but thankfully, no one was killed.
After rounding the southern tip of Greenland, we stayed close to its eastern coast for safety. It was easier to defend the ship this way, and in case of trouble, wizards could quickly fly to shore on brooms. That’s one reason why there are so many small wizarding settlements in unexpected places.
Later that night, as we began to move away from Greenland’s coast, the ship suddenly slowed down. Emerging from my meditation, I listened carefully. The ship seemed to enter a strange state.
The windows began to fog over gently, but nothing else seemed to happen at first. Upon closer inspection, I noticed an ugly woman’s face staring back at me through the glass. Her eyes glowed with an eerie bluish light, and her hair floated as though it defied gravity—or as if she were submerged underwater. Her skin was deathly pale, and dark streaks ran under her eyes, resembling smeared mascara.
The creature then drifted away, and I forced myself to focus.
A strange, haunting scream began to rise, filling my soul with fear and helplessness. The cry chilled my blood and knotted my stomach. My mind scrambled to latch onto anything that could offer a sense of safety.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, held it, and slowly exhaled. My wand was now in my hand, ready for action. I didn’t know what these creatures were, but I wasn’t about to surrender to fear.
I tried opening the door and was surprised to find it opened easily. Peeking into the corridor, I saw two groups of those women slowly floating toward me. As soon as our eyes met, one of the monsters opened her mouth wide and screamed.
A barely noticeable wave rippled through the air from her scream. All the glass objects rattled, and some even shattered.
Retreating into my cabin, I dodged the attack. The creatures rushed down the corridor toward me. First, I used a weak spell to gauge its effect on them. It was a spell designed to combat the undead. But I missed. The attacking creatures dodged it, though it slowed their advance.
Not waiting long, I fired it at another group. Even if it didn’t hit, it might at least slow them down, and it worked, buying me some time to think and plan.
The next spell I chose was the Patronus Charm. A large monkey leapt from my wand and charged at the creatures. A fierce battle ensued. The monkey tore into the monsters, pushing forward. While it fought, I closed my eyes and summoned another Patronus. It was difficult, but I managed. The second spell took the form of a bird, darting through the attacking creatures.
They scattered, trying to evade my spell. I kept pressing forward, searching for a way to reach the deck and get a better understanding of what was happening. Only by seeing the full situation could I make a proper decision.
The fear of the other wizards filled the ship with an unpleasant stench. Out of the corner of my eye, I glanced into a nearby cabin and saw two young men trembling with fear. They didn’t even have their wands in hand to attempt any defense.
In this situation, I couldn’t blame them. These strange monsters were certainly dangerous. Dismissing my monkey Patronus, I had the bird Patronus circle around me, attacking any creature that tried to get close.
And it worked exactly as it should. Finally, stepping out onto the deck, I froze. The space around me was almost glowing with the number of monsters in it. These creatures flew about in a chaotic manner, radiating a mystical presence.
But when I appeared, every figure stopped and turned to look at me. For the briefest moment, I felt as though death itself was staring back. One figure, glowing more brightly than the others, descended toward me. Her glowing blue eyes, with red pupils, set her apart from the rest.
"Give... stone..." the creature hissed.
"What?" I asked, surprised that it could speak.
"Give us... stone," the creature hissed again.
And then I understood. They were after the Philosopher’s Stone, currently stored in my expanded space. I was surprised they even knew about it.
"Why?" I asked, pretending to relax.
"Need... stone," came a more feminine voice.
"And if I do give it to you? What do I get?" I asked, tilting my head slightly. Meanwhile, I began casting some investigative spells without using my wand. These weren’t the most powerful spells, but they yielded some results.
The figures of these creatures were similar to ghosts, but with one key difference. Their appearance wasn’t caused by being bound to the earthly plane. No, they had been transformed into these monsters by some external influence.
I pretended to ogle her body. I couldn’t deny that the monsters' figures were quite... alluring. If you ignored the face, only the strange skin color distinguished them from ordinary women.
The monster seemed to notice this, and I saw her cheeks darken slightly. Could she be embarrassed? Probably. And if she could feel emotions like this, it placed her higher on the scale of sentience—perhaps at the level of goblins or even house-elves. Maybe even higher.
"Nothing," I answered for her. "So why do you need my stone?"
"Our stone," she tried to correct me, but under my gaze, she blushed even more.
"Well?" I pressed her a little further.
Black tears started to form under her eyes.
"You're so cruel, not wanting to give me the stone," she said in a normal voice, sniffling. "Are you really that stingy?"
"I see," I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment. "Well, you’re not getting anything from me."
"Is that so?" she growled, floating up into the air. Her face was now contorted with rage. "Give me my stone!"
She pointed at me, and all the figures that had been hovering in the sky rushed toward me. Their screams pierced my core, trying to plunge me into pure terror. If she was as sentient as I thought, this might have worked. Fear can paralyze, but only to a point—and not everyone. I wasn’t paralyzed, nor did I feel any real fear.
With a flick of my wand, a dome appeared around me. This dome was a modified Patronus spell I had learned in Malta. It was powerful and effective in situations like this. Focusing the spell even more, I unleashed its magic.
The dome rapidly expanded, erasing the figures from existence. One spell, and almost all the monsters were gone. The only survivor was the one I had been talking to. Her gaze was full of fury. I summoned the monkey Patronus again, and it charged at her.
"Ha-ah!" she screamed, soaring into the air to evade my spell. And she succeeded. Shooting into the sky, she disappeared, turning into a star, taking with her the pressure on my mind. Soon after, the stars themselves began to emerge from behind the glow of the monsters.
The ship slowly began to come back to life. After all, they didn’t face something this dangerous and unexpected every day. Still, it was strange that no one had realized they could use a Patronus against these monsters. Perhaps the security lacked knowledge, or maybe they simply couldn’t think clearly under pressure. It didn’t matter.
Taking a deep breath, I continued to observe as the ship returned to normal, and the crew resumed their duties under the stern orders of the senior officers.
"Mister," a wizard with several scars on his face addressed me. "I’m the head of security on this ship, and I’d like to thank you for your intervention."
I simply nodded, accepting his thanks.
"Do you know what that was?" he asked.
"No," I shook my head. "Maybe some form of undead. Or maybe not."
"I see," the wizard nodded.
At that moment, the captain, looking rather agitated, approached us.
"We will continue our journey," he said at once. "What are the chances of another attack like this on the ship?"
The question was directed at the head of security, but he looked at me with a silent question in his eyes. I pondered for a moment. The attack had only been related to one thing—the Philosopher’s Stone. What were the chances of another attack? Hard to say, since I’m no Seer...
"I don’t know," I replied slowly. "If there is another attack, it won’t be from this group of monsters. Perhaps from another group or something else entirely. I haven’t heard of creatures like this living in these waters."
"Neither have I," the head of security mused. "It’s curious—what was their goal? Why did they attack the ship?"
"Maybe they wanted to consume souls," I shrugged. "Or drain people’s life energy. It could be anything."
"That doesn’t make my job any easier," the captain muttered. "I’d also like to thank you, mister, for your help. May I know your name?"
"Timothy Jody," I introduced myself.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Jody," Captain Livingston said. "I’d like to thank you on behalf of the ship and its crew with this check."
I glanced at the check. It was for only three hundred Galleons. To someone else, that might seem like a lot, but I was used to dealing with much larger sums. Still, I wasn’t going to turn it down.
"Thank you," I nodded to him. "I think I’ll take my leave now."
Leaving the captain and the head of security, I returned to my cabin. The crew was going around checking on passengers, offering them something hot and comforting. They offered me some as well, and I didn’t refuse—why not?
In my cabin, I began recalling everything that had happened and analyzing the results of my investigative spell. Besides the fact that their bodies had been altered by external forces, their magic also felt somewhat foreign. If I had to compare it to paint, it was like painting over a wall with a different type of paint but keeping the same color. Could these female-shaped monsters be part of a magical anomaly? It was possible... in fact, it seemed likely. They were part of some magical anomaly that had arisen nearby.
Another important discovery was that their minds functioned in ways completely incomprehensible to me. Interpreting their thoughts on the fly was impossible. They didn’t even notice I was probing their minds, so either that was a defense mechanism, or the anomaly had warped their thinking to the point that it was unreadable to a human. I don’t know.
I fell asleep easily and without further incident, waking up when we had already reached the Faroe Islands, which greeted us with clear weather, noisy seagulls, and albatrosses. A few wizards disembarked, while others boarded. Afterward, we resumed our journey.
The next few days passed surprisingly quietly and peacefully. The sun would appear, then hide behind clouds.
"Look!" some boy shouted, pointing at the sky.
Those who heard him looked up curiously and saw a small flock of flying snakes. These were completely harmless creatures native to this region. Some people even mistook them for dragons, but they weren’t dragons at all—they were entirely different creatures. Their bodies were excellent ingredients for medicinal potions.
The anticipation of soon stepping back onto English soil made me squint toward the coastline. Sure, I didn’t forget to analyze my books, but I also decided to browse the local information space for any interesting reads.
There weren’t many. I found a ship’s log interesting, as well as a few books on ship repairs. These contained some fascinating spells used in very specific situations, only on ships. Everything else didn’t interest me much. I was certain that strong wizards had traveled here and must have left some interesting books or journals... but they hadn’t stayed long enough to leave a mark in the information space.
When I saw the Scottish coast, I allowed myself a small smile. Soon, this round-the-world journey would be over, and I could finally rest. The number of ships increased significantly. Most of them belonged to Muggles, but no one was particularly concerned, since we didn’t reveal our differences from other ships.
Rounding the lands, we approached our destination and, by evening, arrived off Portsmouth. The Path of Saint Anne didn’t dock at the port itself, but passengers could transfer to one of several smaller boats that operated as connecting vessels.
The captain and head of security escorted me to the transfer point. Shaking their hands and wishing them luck on their future voyages, I boarded the smaller boat. Judging by the demeanor of the crew, it was clear that they weren’t particularly knowledgeable or experienced. As weaker wizards, they didn’t have many options in the magical world.
Finally, stepping onto solid ground, I allowed myself to close my eyes briefly, adjusting to the thought that I would soon be home.
"Excuse me, sir," an Auror approached me, emerging from a booth I hadn’t noticed before. "Did you just arrive?"
"Yes," I replied. "Timothy Jody."
"Oh, it’s you?" he nodded. "The youngest Master of Transfiguration in England. It’s a pleasure to meet you."
I was led through several checks, none of which required me to do anything. As the Auror explained, these were necessary to ensure I wasn’t carrying any dark artifacts, illegal potions or ingredients, or magical creatures that could pose a danger to ordinary people. Since I wasn’t transporting any of those, I was let go without any issues.
"All the best!" the Auror wished me, continuing to ask questions about various topics.
Waving goodbye, I slipped into a dark alley and Apparated home. The process was quick and simple. Finding myself in a familiar alleyway, I stepped onto the street and headed towards my house.
In the driveway stood my father’s familiar car. The grass was freshly mowed, and the small flower bed looked well-kept, showing that the lady of the house was always tending to it. Approaching the door, I took a deep breath and exhaled before knocking.
After a moment, the door opened, and I saw my father, who had changed a little. A small bald patch was forming, and his hair had started to go gray. He squinted, then smiled warmly.
"Timothy... Son," he said. "You’re finally back."
"Hi, Dad," I replied.
He embraced me firmly, and it was one of those things I had missed.
"Aren, who’s there?" came a familiar female voice.
"It’s Timothy," he called back. "He’s home."
There was a moment of silence, followed by the sound of someone running down the hallway. Soon, a woman appeared with a joyful smile on her face. She rushed to hug me without bothering with questions.
"You’re finally back," she said, then began looking me over. "I see you’ve lost a little weight... but you’re still as handsome as ever."
"I’m happy to see you too," I nodded to both of them.
"Come in, come in," my father said. "I’ll set the table."
And indeed, I tidied myself up a bit, and we had a small, light dinner. Since Cindy hadn’t prepared anything special for my return, we made do with what was available.
There was so much I could tell them about my journey, but I skipped over most of the places and events. There was no need for them to know that I was responsible for the destruction of an entire city. Instead, I shared the safer, more harmless stories that couldn’t harm me or them.
My mother was especially interested in whether I had found a new girlfriend. I assured her that no one had appeared during my travels. She immediately hinted at Maggie and Tamara, who were always asking when I would return.
Then they told me about what had happened during the months I was away. My mother had been promoted at work, earning a bit more money. My father continued working for his company, as always.
Nothing much had changed for them, which made sense. I didn’t expect that just living in one town and doing the same thing every day would bring about big changes. Of course, unexpected things can happen, but they aren’t frequent.
"What are your plans now?" my father asked. "Thinking of going to university?"
"University," I repeated, thinking. "Not just yet. I still need to focus on magic."
"As you wish," he nodded. "You’re an adult now, and it’s not my place to tell you what to do next."
I nodded, accepting his words.
"What about other plans?" Cindy asked this time.
"I’m not sure yet," I shrugged. "Maybe I’ll take on a few apprentices, or perhaps I’ll go and learn something myself in the field of magic."
"When’s the wedding?" she asked. "Tamara talks about you all the time. Should we invite them over?"
"Not just yet," I gently declined. "I need to get myself in order first, and then I’ll think about meeting and socializing."
"As you wish," she nodded.
I went to sleep with a peaceful heart and a light soul. I didn’t even feel like continuing to analyze my books.
Over the next few days, I spent time talking with my parents and relatives, who were also eager to see me. They were all interested in my achievements and future plans. There wasn’t much pressure from them yet, as I had just returned from my journey, but I could sense that they would start asking more questions in the future. Their opinions didn’t really matter to me, but I didn’t want my parents to bear the brunt of answering for me to the rest of the family. So, I planned to find something that brings in Muggle money, just to get them off my back.
Once I had rested enough, I decided to head to Diagon Alley to take care of some business—specifically, to talk to the goblins.
"How can we assist you?" a goblin with a large nose asked. He sat on an elevated platform, looking down at everyone from above.
"I’d like a consultation," I said calmly.
"A consultation about what?" he asked.
"I want to buy some land, a property, or a house," I told him.
"Very well," the goblin exhaled. "Wait..." he glanced at some sort of clock, "twenty minutes, and a consultant will meet with you."
"Thank you," I nodded and stepped aside to the waiting area.
While I waited for the consultant, I occupied myself with my usual task—loading books from the local information space. This time, I had specific topics I was interested in, so finding a few intriguing options wasn’t difficult. By the time I met with the consultant, I had already managed to load two small books on wand-making. I wasn’t sure how much they would help, but I figured they’d be useful for improving the quality of the material I already had.
"Good day," the goblin greeted me, dressed in a white shirt and black trousers. If it weren’t for his face, I might have mistaken him for a dwarf. "You wanted to meet with a consultant?"
"Yes, that’s me."
"Follow me to my office," the goblin nodded.
We walked past two statues, which stood motionless. Though it wasn’t hard to sense their interest. They were probably part of the security, not just decoration.
The goblin’s office wasn’t very large, but it was well-designed. Soft tones on the walls, bookshelves, a massive desk, and an equally massive chair. He sat down and gestured for me to take the seat opposite him.
"My name is Griblodrak," the goblin introduced himself. "I am a consultant on investments in real estate and land parcels."
"Timothy Jody," I replied.
"Oh, I’ve read about you in the papers," Griblodrak nodded. "But that’s not why you’re here. As I understand, you’re interested in private property, correct?"
"Yes," I nodded. "I’m interested in either land or a house, preferably somewhere remote from large towns and settlements. Even better if the house is in the forest."
"What budget are you working with?" the goblin asked. "May I check?"
"Of course," I agreed.
The goblin began performing some manipulations, then waited. After a moment, a piece of paper appeared on his desk. He opened it and quickly read it.
"What can I say," he said. "Overall, you have plenty of funds for a wide range of purchases, though not for everything."
"What places are out of reach?" I asked.
"Godric’s Hollow, Hogsmeade—those are definitely off the list," he said, then added, "But I remember you’re looking for a remote location. Hm."
The goblin studied some papers he had.
"How about the Cornwall region?"
"Do you have something interesting there?" I asked.
"There’s a large plot," the goblin said. "It offers excellent ocean views. There’s a small town nearby—Lizard."
I looked at my map. I had to admit, the location was nice.
"How much does it cost?" I asked.
"Two and a half thousand," the goblin said immediately.
That was expensive, to say the least. I hadn’t expected such a price. Without showing any surprise, I nodded.
"What else do you have that might interest me?" I asked.
"There’s also a lot near Kielder, in northern England," the goblin said. "Right near the border with Scotland."
"Hm," I mused. "What are my options if I’m looking for something cheaper?"
"Oh," he said. "Then we can look at houses and manors from extinct or impoverished magical families. The selection there is broader."
"What do you have in the range of a thousand Galleons?" I set a small limit for him.
"Certainly," he nodded. "We have the Potter estates, the Black estates, Stonehammer Fortress, Selkirk Manor, Lellouche Tower."
"I'm surprised to hear about the Potter estates," I remarked.
"James Potter mortgaged part of their land and a summer house for some project," Griblodrak shrugged. "The project failed, and he couldn’t buy it back."
"Hm," was all I could say. Interesting, indeed. But... something told me it was better not to get involved with the Potters. I didn’t want to deal with Hero of England-type dramas later. The young guy had proven himself a killer a year ago. On the other hand, there might be something valuable and useful in that house. So, I won’t rule out that option just yet. "What about Stonehammer Fortress?"
"We’ve had it for over two hundred years," the goblin said. "The last owner from the Stonehammer family lost it in a dice game. The winner sold it to us for hard cash."
"Do you have any pictures of it?" I asked.
"Of course."
He showed me several images of a massive stone building with windows and equally massive towers. The angular architecture suggested that the building was anything but simple.
"And how much does it cost?" I asked.
"Eight hundred Galleons," the goblin replied.
"Why such a low price?" I asked.
"It’s simple," Griblodrak began. "That fortress is infested with too many magical creatures, and getting rid of them would cost almost twice as much as the fortress itself."
Well... I do have the Veil of Death, so I don’t think it’ll be much of a problem. Though, as they say, don’t count your chickens before they hatch. I haven’t "hatched" yet, so I won’t overthink it.
I asked him about the other properties he had mentioned. They had all come into goblin hands in roughly the same way. Someone lost them in cards, someone fell into debt, and some were simply abandoned, leaving the goblins to take them over. The last part worried me the most... Everything had to be legally clean before I bought it.