Harry Potter: I am the Legend

"What flavor do you like?"

The ice cream shop owner asked.

It was a bright and sunny street, where dazzling sunlight reflected brilliantly off the white tables.

"What flavors do you have?"

Leaning eagerly over the counter in the ice cream shop, Hoffa asked with curiosity.

"There are two flavors," the owner said.

Standing beside a large tub, the owner pressed a switch, and a swirl of pale blue and white ice cream spiraled out. "This flavor is mint and vanilla. It will leave you enchanted, invigorate your spirit, and fill you with passion for life!"

With a soft plop, the owner placed the ice cream in front of Hoffa, then turned to the other tub. Pressing another switch, a swirl of red ice cream emerged. "This one is strawberry and rum. It may not be as stimulating as the first, but it brings a lasting sweetness and warmth, perfect for a hot summer day."

The owner pushed the two cones—one blue and white, the other red—onto the pristine table and asked, "So, which one will it be?"

"This…" Hoffa hesitated for a moment, then waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, kids make choices. I want both!"

The owner shook his head. "No, our shop only sells one flavor per person. You can only pick one."

"Hmm…"

Hoffa gnawed on his fingernail as he stared at the two distinctly flavored ice creams. After a long while, he pointed at the blue and white mint vanilla cone. "Alright, I'll take this one."

"Are you sure?" The owner smiled, pointing at the blue and white cone.

"This…" Hoffa glanced longingly at the red ice cream for a few moments, hesitated again, and then reluctantly looked away. "Fine, I'll stick with this one."

The owner handed him the blue and white cone and casually threw the red ice cream into the trash.

"What are you doing?!" Hoffa shouted. "Why not just give it to me?"

"It's not that I didn't want to give it to you—it's that you didn't want it," the owner replied with a shrug. "Alright, we're closing for the day. Goodbye."

Carrying the blue and white cone, Hoffa left the shop feeling both annoyed and puzzled. Yet, as he looked at the ice cream in his hand, his mood lifted. Smiling, he took a lick. The moment it touched his tongue, it felt as if he were kissing a divine beauty—every pore in his body relaxed in pure ecstasy.

"Ahhh…"

Hoffa licked his ice cream with a wide grin. But as he continued, he suddenly wondered if the red ice cream might have tasted just as good.

Unable to resist, he turned back, deciding to ask the owner if there was any way he could try the red flavor too. If nothing else, maybe he could fish it out of the trash and give it a taste.

But as he retraced his steps, the sunny street disappeared, replaced by an overwhelming red hue that enveloped everything around him. The air was thick and suffocating, like torn flesh bleeding into the atmosphere.

When Hoffa returned to the ice cream shop, it had transformed into a butcher's den. Black and red veins crawled across the previously spotless counter. Dark blood and indistinct human remains clung to every corner of the walls like diseased organs.

The ice cream shop had become a slaughterhouse.

Flies buzzed everywhere, and cockroaches scurried across the floor.

Horrified, Hoffa dropped his ice cream. He slowly approached the trash bin where the red ice cream had been tossed. But inside, there was no trace of the cone—only a bloody, severed head.

"Ahhh!!"

A scream tore from his throat, only to be drowned out by the blare of car horns.

Hoffa's eyes shot open. He clutched his chest, drenched in cold sweat.

He was sitting on a bus, the passing cityscape flashing by. Towering buildings loomed in the dense night, and his pale, sweat-drenched reflection stared back at him from the window.

After a moment, he relaxed his grip and pulled out a round glass orb from his chest pocket. Inside, a strange creature gazed back at him silently.

Another nightmare.

"Damn it!"

Shoving the glass orb back into his pocket, Hoffa leaned back in his seat, unwilling to speak.

The God of Nightmares had kept his promise: every time Hoffa accidentally fell asleep, he would plunge into a nightmare. This was his third in recent days.

His shoulder felt heavy.

Turning, he saw long, wine-red hair cascading over his shoulder. Beneath it, a soft breath rose and fell. The sight of the nun sleeping soundly beside him brought a fleeting sense of calm.

"Hehehe…"

Low laughter broke his thoughts.

Hoffa brushed off the head on his shoulder irritably and leaned out of his seat. Under the dim bus lights, a group of young boys and girls swung their legs playfully, giggling as they looked at him.

"What are you laughing at?" Hoffa whispered harshly.

A girl made a teasing gesture, tracing her face as if mocking him.

"Brats," he muttered, scolding them again, though their response was only more laughter and silly faces.

Defeated, Hoffa sank back into his seat. The nun had woken up and, rubbing her eyes, greeted him with a warm smile and a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

"Sir," the bus driver called out, "we've reached London Tower Bridge. Are you getting off at the south side or the north side?"

"Just drop me on the bridge," Hoffa replied. "I'll take it from there."

"Alright."

The bus came to a halt in the middle of the bridge, its high towers framing the scene. Below, the Thames flowed ceaselessly, and in the distance, the HMS Belfast stood illuminated on the river.

It had been a week since they defeated Mans. With no opposition in their way, Hoffa had swiftly brought Chloe to her destination in London.

To stay discreet, he avoided magic and instead traveled by public bus, eventually reaching this long-awaited city.

After paying the driver, Hoffa, the nun, and the children stepped off the bus. The children scattered immediately, marveling at everything around them.

When a ship passed beneath the bridge and the roadway split open, their collective gasp filled the air.

As the bus drove away, Hoffa asked Chloe, "How do I contact Nicolas Flamel?"

"I don't know," Chloe admitted. "Delphina told me someone would come for me if I made it to London."

Hoffa sighed. "Figures."

Chloe didn't seem bothered. Gazing at the city skyline, she mused, "It's been so many years since I've been back. Why don't you show me around?"

"Sure," Hoffa agreed. With no better plan, he rounded up the children, making sure they didn't stray too far, and began wandering aimlessly with Chloe through London.

In 1943, London was far from the bustling luxury of later years. The war had left its mark, casting a somber shadow over the city.

Yet its vastness and energy, unmatched by smaller towns like Bournemouth, were undeniable. The distant Big Ben was covered in scaffolding, black automobiles zipped by, and most pedestrians carried black umbrellas, their faces weary and hurried. Walls were plastered with recruitment posters, and only the occasional glimmer of neon lights or pine tree decorations hinted at the approaching Christmas season.

However, none of this affected Chloe's mood. She placed her hands behind her back and walked backward in front of Hoffa, smiling as she asked, "So, where are you going next?"

"I'm not sure yet," Hoffa answered honestly. The people from the Ministry of Magic hadn't arrived yet, and he didn't want to think about plans for the future until he had completely sent off the nun.

"Well, is there anything you especially want to do?" She turned around to walk shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Anything I especially want to do?"

"Yeah, I mean for the future—like dreams, goals, things like that?"

"Why are you asking this?"

"This war can't go on forever. When it's over, you'll have to settle down, right? You can't keep drifting around forever."

"Hmm, maybe I'll go back to find Norbert and continue making alchemical weapons with him," Hoffa said uncertainly.

"Is that all you'll do for your whole life?" Chloe asked.

"Uhm..." Hoffa scratched his head, noncommittal.

But Chloe looked at him persistently, and after thinking seriously for a moment, he said, "Actually, I've thought about opening a shop in the wizard market, selling all sorts of things."

"Like what?" Chloe asked.

"Well, potions, probably," Hoffa said, almost unconsciously.

"What do you think about that?"

"That sounds great! When the war is over, I'll open a monastery, and you can open a potion shop next door, and we can be neighbors!" Chloe suggested.

"Neighbors? But my last name isn't Wang."

He muttered to himself.

"What did you say?" Chloe asked, confused.

"Nothing," Hoffa chuckled to himself, amused by an inside joke.

"By the way," Chloe suddenly stopped. As they passed a fountain at a riding square, she blocked his way with a more serious expression.

"What's wrong?" Hoffa asked, alert.

"You promised you'd tell me the reason you brought me here once we're back in London. Can you tell me now?"

"Hmm, you haven't forgotten?" Hoffa coughed a few times, his mind briefly flooded with potential answers. After some time, he managed to clear his thoughts and straightened his posture. "I have a very good friend..."

"Chloe!!"

A voice of surprise interrupted their conversation.

Looking up, they saw a group of men in standard Muggle suits emerging from behind a public telephone booth near a row of apartment buildings. A tall bald woman walked toward them, excitedly waving her hand.

"Look here!!"

It took Hoffa a moment to recognize her. The woman was Delfina, Fatir's secretary, who had handed him the escort task back in France.

She wore a lace dress with a black high-neck trim, possibly from the 19th century, but somehow it looked fashionable. She stood tall and composed.

Behind her, an elderly man with a hunched back appeared, leaning on a cane. He had a smiling face, his hair cut very short but still visible, with a sparse covering of white hair revealing his brown scalp. When he smiled, he exposed a set of teeth, missing only a couple from the bottom and back.

However, what left a lasting impression on Hoffa were the old man's eyes. Despite his age, his eyes seemed ageless, clear, and lively, unlike the clouded eyes of many older individuals.

Hoffa's demeanor changed. He no longer made small talk. He knew exactly who the people were. Nico Le May, one of the most famous alchemists in history.

Delfina quickly approached Hoffa and Chloe with the elderly man, praising, "See, I told you handing this to him would be a sure thing, right?"

The old man ignored her and looked at Chloe, opening his arms as if to hug her. Chloe stepped back and hid behind Hoffa, awkwardly saying, "Long time no see, Grandfather."

Her reluctant gesture made Nico Le May feel awkward, so he withdrew his arms and extended a hand to Hoffa, saying, "I've heard so much about you. It's an honor to meet you today. Thank you for your help."

"Ah, no need to thank me," Hoffa said, shaking the wrinkled hand. "You're younger than I expected."

"You're taller and more handsome than I imagined," Nico replied, shaking his hand with both of his.

Hoffa grimaced, not wanting to engage in further pleasantries. He let go and stepped aside, pushing Chloe forward. "Now that everything's done, I don't want to stick around. I don't offer after-service, so if anything comes up, don't come looking for me."

"Of course, of course."

"That's settled then."

Delfina and Nico both smiled, while Chloe kept her head lowered, her face slightly pale.

Hoffa didn't want to linger. After all, with Nico Le May taking care of Chloe, she'd be in better hands than with him, her temporary bodyguard. In the past six months, he hadn't seen any benefit from his efforts and had been in countless dangerous situations with strange wizards and monsters, nearly losing his life.

He thought once was enough for such foolishness.

As for what the current Minister of Magic, Fatir, might do with her powers, Hoffa had a rough idea, but he didn't want to get involved. He had no desire to see that man.

After pushing Chloe toward Nico Le May, he intended to leave. But just as he took a few steps, he heard someone call from behind.

"Wait a moment."

Turning around, he saw Chloe, politely greeting Nico Le May before hurrying to Hoffa's side, speaking quickly, "Do you have a wish you can't fulfill yourself and need me to help you with?"

After a pause, she added, "Tell me, if I can do it, I'll definitely help you!"

"Ah..."

Hoffa looked down at his shoelaces, his expression slightly melancholic. But when he lifted his head, a radiant smile was already on his face. "Actually, no, there's nothing. It's been a pleasure meeting you, Miss Le May."

Chloe didn't smile. Standing in the chilly air, she looked at him seriously. "Is that all?"

Hoffa glanced at the crowd behind her, sighed internally. He wanted to hug her, knowing she wouldn't refuse, but his impulse was finally overridden by restraint. Instead, he patted her shoulder. "Go back."

"Well, goodbye, Mr. Bach."

"Goodbye."

She slowly walked back to the waiting group. Nico Le May draped his robe over her shoulders and guided her along, nodding at Hoffa. Hoffa nodded back in acknowledgment.

A soft sound of popping.

With a swirl of green smoke, Nico Le May, Chloe, and the children vanished in a flash of apparition.

Only Delfina remained, watching Hoffa with a smile that seemed neither here nor there.

(End of Chapter)

Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon

https://patreon.com/Glimmer09