004 Unveiling Secrets (Re-Written)

The snow that had fallen for several days buried all the filths on the streets of the ancient city of London. However, the gloomy sky that never seemed to clear foreshadowed an even more intense blizzard brewing. On the old streets, many Muggle cleaners used all their skills to deal with the accumulated snow, working hard to clear a passable path.

Bryan Watson, dressed in a worn, dark green coat, stood in the bare courtyard, gazing intently at the unfinished building in front of him. His pale purple eyes seemed to contain extraordinary magic.

Unlike the surrounding buildings that were steeped in history and ancient charm, it was a six-story building, square and styleless, like a student dormitory. Each floor had a dozen rooms, and one could imagine that once completed, it would undoubtedly accommodate many people.

"Bryan!"

The call from the street outside the iron gate brought Bryan back to his senses. He turned to look, and when he saw the middle-aged woman with a hurried expression, a gentle and amiable smile appeared on his youthful face.

"Good morning, Mrs. Regan."

"Oh, you should have given me a heads-up, Bryan," Mrs. Regan said in a reproachful tone after a hasty hug.

"Well, sorry, I didn't actually plan to be in such a hurry, but something came up that might keep me occupied for the next few months, so I came back to check on the progress," Bryan said with a casual tone, curling his lips.

"Yes, yes, you're always in such a hurry." Mrs. Regan looked proudly at the handsome Bryan, the most promising child to come out of the orphanage in recent years, with a face full of satisfaction. "You don't have to worry, Bryan. Mr. Parker from the construction team said they'll continue work as soon as the Christmas holidays are over. In just two months, the children will be able to move into their new home!"

"Yes, I think that's exactly what they're looking forward to." Bryan smiled, then opened the briefcase he was carrying, took out two stacks of pounds, and stuffed them into Mrs. Regan's hands.

Gringotts did have a Muggle currency exchange business, but there were strict limits on both the exchange rate and the amount. So, Bryan preferred to turn his gold coins into gold bars and then exchange them for pounds at any less-than-regular gold shop in London. This also resulted in some unnecessary losses, but compared to doing business with greedy goblins, the losses incurred were acceptable.

"This is the final payment for the project. Please pass it on to Mr. Parker for me."

Mrs. Regan's lips moved, but she had already said too many words of gratitude and there was no need to go through the motions again. She carefully hid the money in her grease-stained apron, and her tone was filled with gratitude and expectation. "Would you like to see the children, Bryan? They really hope to see you, especially little Hammer. He's been clamoring for days, complaining that you didn't keep your promise to spend Christmas with them."

"Please apologize to him for me, Mrs. Regan. I'll bring him a gift when I come back for summer vacation."

"All right then." There was obvious disappointment in Mrs. Regan's tone, but she did not persuade further. She knew that if Bryan had the time, he would definitely not refuse to see the children. It seemed he had indeed encountered something urgent that needed to be resolved.

The small talk did not take too much time. Mrs. Regan still had to hurry back to take care of those hungry children. After Mrs. Regan left, Bryan stayed for only a short while before walking out of the desolate courtyard.

He walked with steady steps along the newly cleared street heading east. The old buildings on both sides of the road, imbued with his countless childhood memories, did not slow his pace.

Only when he passed a ten-foot-wide river did he stand on the dilapidated arched bridge and gaze at the frozen surface for a while, lost in thought. Then he walked towards a wasteland with sparsely planted birch trees.

In the center of the wasteland was a cemetery surrounded by a rickety fence.

"Ventus." Bryan did not take his hands out of his pockets, but only moved his lips. Several small tornadoes rose out of nowhere in the desolate cemetery. After sweeping away the snow on the rows of tombstones and the black-gray pebble islets, they disappeared without a trace.

"Sorry, Grandma Ferena, I forgot to bring flowers." Bryan stepped up to a pure white tombstone, bent down to wipe away the ice water on the marble slab engraved with the epitaph, then stood up straight and quietly looked at the kind old woman smiling in the black and white photo on the tombstone, muttering in a low voice.

Buried beneath the tombstone was the old woman who had carefully cared for him growing up in the orphanage during his childhood years, and the only person he had acknowledged as family since he was born into this world as a baby.

As if sensing his sadness, the owl that came against the bone-chilling wind did not rush to complete its task, but stopped on the nearest birch tree, tilting its head to watch Bryan below, occasionally using its sharp beak to groom its wind-tousled feathers.

"For the next few months, I have to go back to that school that teaches people 'magic tricks' again. That school is in a bit of trouble now, and someone wants me to take advantage of the chaos to find something. To be honest, this doesn't align with my personal wishes—

Albus Dumbledore, the white-bearded old man who always pretends to run into me in the library in the middle of the night and reminds me that staying up late is bad for my health, wouldn't like what I'm doing now. I'm not too happy about sneaking around under his nose either... But there's no other way. They're giving me so much that it's worth my hard work for most of the year.

Besides, after the new dormitory is built, I hope to help the children solve their education problems—"

The howling wind carried away Bryan's melancholy sigh, but could not wipe away the vexation on his handsome face. "It's a pity. If I could recall the plot, I could probably get things done as quickly as possible and take the money and run."

This offhand remark exposed the deepest secret hidden in the heart of the young man standing in the desolate cemetery.

Yes, Bryan Watson was not a 'born and bred' local. His soul came from a place where no supernatural powers existed.

The Harry Potter story was a favorite read of his teenage years in his previous life. But it had been more than twenty years since he received his Hogwarts admission letter in this life, and all his memories had become blurred. Even ten years ago, when he received the owl mail in his cold room at the orphanage, he thought it was some kind of new popular prank.

It wasn't until a greasy-haired, hook-nosed man appeared in front of him and turned his bed into a toilet with a small stick that he came to his senses and realized that the script he had started in this life was not some urban superpower.

After that, he tried hard to recall the Harry Potter script, but all he got were some seemingly plausible words like Horcruxes, Hallows, love and scars, Voldemort and resurrection. This was far less than the information he had gathered himself since entering the wizarding world.

Of course, after becoming proficient in magic, Bryan had also tried unconventional means to trace his memories. But that information was so stubbornly forgotten that no matter how hard Bryan tried, it remained hidden in a swirling gray mist, as if someone had protected it with unimaginable magic. In the end, after trying many methods and nearly making himself sick, he had no choice but to give up in despair.

"That Potter boy is in his second year, and there are several years until graduation. So, I don't think I'll have to face the most dangerous situation. After all, Dumbledore is there—ah, no, the danger comes from Dumbledore..."

Phew...

Looking at the white mist dispersed by the wind, a wry smile froze on Bryan's face. "No matter which world you are in, survival is an extremely arduous thing, right, Grandma Ferena?"

The sky once again shed fine snowflakes. The hooting of the owl on the treetop grew more and more impatient. Bryan reached out into the air, and the small note under the owl's claws whooshed through the gray snow curtain, highlighted by the gloomy sky, and steadily landed in Bryan's palm.

Dear Mr. Watson,

I have completed negotiations with the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Currently, the board has passed our proposal. You need to arrive at Hogwarts before 8 o'clock tonight to personally inform Dumbledore of how you plan to investigate the attacker.

Also, Lucius Malfoy firmly rejected the proposal to dispatch an investigator. He believes Albus Dumbledore should be dismissed directly. The Greengrass family was the only one to second the motion.

Yours faithfully,

Kakus Fawley

The hasty handwriting was enough to show the urgency of the letter writer. The gray owl, having completed its task without receiving a reward, let out a disgruntled hoot, flapped its wings, and quickly disappeared into the swirling snow.

Bryan closed his palm, and Kakus's note turned into a seed, growing into a spotlessly white bouquet of carnations in his palm.

"Do you like this magic trick, Grandma Ferena?"

The old woman on the tombstone smiled with satisfaction.

Bryan also began to smile. He turned and walked into the wind and snow. After an explosive sound, no one remained in the desolate cemetery. Only a low oath lingered in the sparse woods:

"Destiny's train, are you ready to run in an unknown direction?"