Harry Potter: I am the Legend

The bandaged soldier had died. Hoffa stood in front of him in silence for a long time. He stared at the pocket watch in his hand, feeling momentarily lost. What was this guy talking about? Was he just trying to take advantage of him before dying? He couldn't understand.

Should he do it?

Looking at the pocket watch, Hoffa quickly made a decision. He was wandering around like a headless fly anyway, with nothing better to do. Since someone had asked him for a favor, why not help?

Just as he made up his mind, a commotion erupted outside the tent. Someone was shouting loudly: "Fire! Fire! Get some water, quickly!"

The brief moment of stillness vanished, and the world was once again filled with noise and chaos. The shouting startled Hoffa. He quickly tucked away the pocket watch and rushed out of the tent. Outside, people were running in all directions. Many soldiers, leaning on crutches, emerged from their tents, staring at the thick smoke rising in the distance.

"Are the Germans attacking again?" some of them gasped in alarm.

The fire was raging, crackling loudly in the night, with flames leaping five or six meters high. Since the tents were set up close together, the fire quickly spread.

Nurses and doctors ran out of the tents, carrying various containers, passing them to those physically able to help. Hoffa was no exception.

Amid the thick smoke, a passing nurse shoved something into Hoffa's hands—a container shaped like a urinal.

"What are you standing there for? Go get water and put out the fire!"

She shouted anxiously into his ear.

Hoffa jolted like a machine suddenly switched on and ran toward the fire without hesitation. Since he had no memory anyway, he might as well do as he was told. The nurse wanted him to fight the fire, and that made sense to him, so he accepted the task without question.

The fire had broken out at the edge of the city park, near the outermost tents, close to the road. A fire hydrant on the street had already been opened, gushing water. However, it was quite far from the fire, and with no hoses available, the only option was to transport water manually.

Hoffa reached the hydrant and filled the urinal container with water, running back and forth several times. But the container was too small, making little impact on the raging flames. Frustrated, he tossed it aside and sprinted toward a metal trash bin by the street.

The bin was as tall as a person and weighed over thirty kilograms. With the garbage inside, it must have been at least sixty. But Hoffa, focused on putting out the fire, didn't care about the weight. He grabbed two bins, emptied their contents, and carried them to the hydrant to fill them with water.

The other civilians fighting the fire were astonished by Hoffa's strength and instinctively made way for him. Some even helped him fill the bins.

In no time, both metal bins were full. They looked impossibly heavy, but Hoffa lifted them effortlessly, like a waiter carrying trays, and dashed toward the inferno. Passersby couldn't help but gape in amazement at the sight.

As he poured the water over the burning tents, the fire immediately died down in two of them.

However, the flames continued to spread. He turned back to fetch more water, quickly refilling the bins. Just as he was about to repeat the process, he accidentally ran into something sticking out from the street.

Caught off guard, Hoffa stumbled and fell hard to the ground.

Crash!

The heavy bins toppled over, rolling several times, spilling water everywhere. Hoffa was instantly drenched.

Confused, he scrambled to his feet and looked around for what had tripped him. In the shadows at the street corner, the girl he had been separated from stood with her arms crossed, one foot resting against the wall. She was smirking at him playfully.

"Why are you so eager?" she teased.

It was her—she had deliberately tripped him.

"There's a fire! I need to put it out!" Hoffa wiped the water off his face. "Why aren't you helping?"

"It's not your job, you fool!"

The girl snapped, kicking away the overturned bins. She bent down, pointed a finger at his face, and said coldly, "We have something far more important to do."

"What? What about the fire?" Hoffa asked.

"The fire has nothing to do with you! In fact, I started it."

The girl admitted without hesitation.

Hoffa's pupils contracted in shock.

She leaned in close to his ear, pointing toward a building across the street. "Look, that's where we need to go."

Following her gaze, Hoffa saw a plain, boxy building just across the street from the tents. Under the glow of the fire, he could make out a red cross on its facade.

At that moment, people from inside the building were rushing out, carrying firefighting equipment and heading toward the burning tents.

"While the guards are distracted, we're going to the storage room to find the Heartstone," the girl said confidently.

"You started the fire?"

"Are you deaf?"

"How could you do that?"

"Why not? Stop acting all self-righteous!" The girl glared at him. "Do you think getting into that storage room is easy?"

"What if people get hurt?" Hoffa asked urgently.

"Relax, I set fire to empty tents. It's none of your business." The girl dismissed his concerns with a shrug.

"No, I have to put it out," Hoffa said firmly.

The smile on the girl's face slowly faded. She stood still, facing him head-on, her voice turning cold. "Did you come here just to put out fires?"

Hoffa stared at her. The firelight flickered in her eyes and on her face, but there was no warmth in her expression.

"Back at the hospital, I heard about someone who didn't even remember his own name. Who was that, I wonder?"

Her voice was calm, yet piercing. "If putting out this fire could restore his memory, I'd be happy to start a few more. But..."

The flames cast dancing shadows across her face as she bent down and asked softly, "Would it?"

Hoffa felt as if he had been struck by lightning. The headache that had briefly subsided surged back violently, as if something in his mind was forcibly keeping him from remembering. His breath quickened, and cold sweat dripped down his face.

"Suit yourself," the girl said indifferently, straightening up. "If you won't come, I'll go alone."

With that, she turned and slipped out of the alley, heading toward the square-shaped building.

Hoffa glanced back at the fire and instinctively reached for the overturned bins. But then—something bizarre happened.

Just moments ago, the bins had felt as light as air. Now, they were impossibly heavy, as if they weighed a thousand pounds. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't lift them.

He tried again. And again.

But they wouldn't budge.

As the firefighters in orange uniforms rushed past him, dragging thick hoses, they quickly began connecting them to the fire hydrant.

Seeing this, Hoffa finally abandoned the thought of putting out the fire himself. He clenched his teeth, turned around, and followed the young girl into the open building.

Once inside, the outside noise faded away. The fire had likely drawn the attention of most people in the building, leaving the square-shaped structure eerily silent. As the noise disappeared, so did the warmth, replaced by a cold, oppressive air. It was fair to call this place a storage facility—on either side of the corridor, numerous iron doors lined the walls, each one coated in a thin layer of frost, hinting at the chilling temperature beyond them.

The girl walked ahead without hesitation, pushing open each door one by one. However, most of the rooms contained only bags of blood, not the organs she had mentioned. It appeared to be a blood collection center rather than a storage site for illicit organs—everything seemed normal.

Before long, they reached the end of the corridor, where a massive iron door blocked their path. Unlike the others, this one was locked. The girl shoved at it a few times, but it didn't budge.

"We should leave. It doesn't seem like the organs you're looking for are here," Hoffa said.

Even though there were no organs, the building's cold and dark atmosphere was oppressive enough. He had no intention of lingering.

The girl's expression darkened. Clearly, failing to find the heart had left her feeling frustrated.

"Do you think I'm just making things up?" she insisted stubbornly. "I said there are organs here, so there must be organs here!"

This isn't a damn marketplace, Hoffa thought to himself. But he still tried to console her. "Maybe they're stored somewhere else. We can keep searching, right? It's not like we'd find them immediately."

Though reluctant, the girl had no choice but to accept reality.

"Damn it. That fire was a complete waste," she muttered dejectedly. "Fine, fine, let's go somewhere else."

Before she could take another step, Hoffa's expression changed slightly. He suddenly reached out, covering her mouth and dragging her into a nearby blood storage room.

Caught off guard, the girl didn't react right away. When she finally did, her face flushed with both embarrassment and annoyance. She turned to Hoffa and whispered, "Hey—what are you doing?"

Hoffa pressed a finger to his lips, then leaned in to whisper in her ear, "Someone's coming."

The girl's ears perked up. Sure enough, they heard footsteps echoing through the corridor. Moments later, the heavy iron door groaned as it was pushed open.

Then, voices.

"What's happening outside?"

"Looks like a fire broke out."

"Any casualties?"

"So far, none have been reported."

"Damn it."

"Well, a few soldiers died earlier. Today's harvest should be decent."

"That's too little, Jesse. Think bigger. Who knows? Maybe this fire is an opportunity."

The two people outside continued their cryptic conversation as their voices faded into the distance.

Once silence returned, Hoffa carefully cracked the door open. He and the girl peeked out. The massive iron door, previously locked, now stood ajar, revealing a dark and cavernous space beyond.

They exchanged a glance. The girl's eyes sparkled with excitement.

"What are you waiting for? Let's go!" she urged.

"Why do I have to go first?" Hoffa asked cautiously. "If you're so eager, you go in first."

He didn't trust her completely. But instead of arguing, the girl simply rolled her eyes.

"Coward," she muttered under her breath before slipping through the dark doorway without hesitation.

"You really have no fear, huh?" Hoffa grumbled before following her inside.

The room was pitch black. Feeling his way along the wall, Hoffa's hands brushed against a cluster of cold glass containers. He immediately froze. If he knocked something over and made a noise, they'd be in serious trouble. He was sure sneaking into a place like this was anything but normal.

Then—click.

A small flame flickered to life. The girl had lit a kerosene lighter, casting a warm glow over the room.

And that was when Hoffa saw them.

Towering shelves filled the space, neatly stacked with hundreds of glass jars. And inside each jar, floating in transparent formalin, were organs—stomachs, lungs, kidneys, livers... and, of course, hearts. Each type occupied its own row. Five rows in total.

"See? I told you there were hearts," the girl said, practically starry-eyed, as if she were admiring dolls in a store display.

The flickering light reflected in her curious gaze, and Hoffa swallowed hard. "I don't think what your grandfather was talking about would be stored in a place like this."

"And how do you know that?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "Why don't we cut one open and check? See if there's a stone inside?"

With that, she reached out toward one of the jars.

Hoffa couldn't take it anymore. In two quick strides, he grabbed her wrist and pressed her hand against the glass.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

"You're insane. You actually want to cut one of these open?" Hoffa said in disbelief.

"Why not? Look—" She nodded toward another shelf behind him.

Turning his head, Hoffa saw a row of jars containing human brains. Each one had been sliced into four precise sections, the cuts unnervingly clean. The brain matter floated gently within the preservative, giving the eerie impression that they were still alive.

Hoffa gritted his teeth but refused to back down. "We can look, but we're not cutting anything open. What, are you going to slice apart every heart in here?"

"And if I have to?"

The girl playfully twisted her hand beneath Hoffa's grip, her fingers wriggling like an octopus. "Hey, weren't you looking for magic? Who knows? Maybe it's right under your hand."

Hoffa's expression turned serious. "First of all, I don't even know if your grandfather was telling the truth. Second, I don't know if you're telling the truth. And finally, if I have to cut open a human heart just to see this so-called magic, then I'd rather believe it's some kind of dark sorcery."

(End of Chapter)

Want to read the chapters in Advance? Join my Patreon

https://patreon.com/Glimmer09