[Rohan POV]
Knock! ... Knock! ... Knock!
The knocking continued, patient at first.
Knock! ... Knock! ... Knock!
Then, after a brief pause—
Knock! Knock! Knock!
"Rohan?" Olivia's voice drifted faintly through the wooden door. "Are you in there?"
"...Ah... what..."
I blinked awake, my vision still blurry. For a second, I stared blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling before everything came rushing back. I had returned from the Leaky Cauldron, thrown myself onto the bed just to "rest for a minute" and apparently slept through half the day.
The knocking came again.
"I'm coming!" I called out, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
I hurried to the door and pulled it open.
Olivia stood outside with her arms folded, though the relief on her face quickly replaced the worried expression she'd been wearing.
"There you are!" she sighed. "I've been knocking for quite a while. You weren't answering, so I started wondering if something had happened."
I scratched the back of my head sheepishly.
"Sorry about that. I didn't mean to worry you." I let out a small yawn. "I came back, lay down for a moment... and the next thing I knew, you were knocking."
Olivia gave me an unimpressed look.
"'For a moment,' huh?" she repeated. "That 'moment' lasted almost three hours."
"...Did it?"
"It did."
She looked me up and down before shaking her head.
"You're still having trouble sleeping at night, aren't you?"
"I guess."
She frowned slightly.
"You called it..." She paused, trying to remember. "Jet... lag?"
I couldn't help but smile.
"Jet lag."
"Right." She nodded confidently. "Jet lag."
She walked past me into the room, glancing at the untouched bed and the curtains that were still drawn shut.
"I actually have a few potions that help people sleep. If you'd like, I could brew one tonight."
"Thanks, but I'll pass."
"You sure?"
"Yeah." I stretched my arms over my head until my joints cracked. "It's getting better on its own. Besides, I'd rather not become dependent on sleeping potions."
Olivia studied me for another moment before giving a small nod.
"If you say so."
Then she placed her hands on her hips.
"Anyway, enough about your strange sleeping habits. Do you know what time it is? It's almost afternoon."
"...You're joking."
"I'm not."
My eyes widened.
"It's that late already?"
"It is." She laughed softly. "Everyone should start arriving soon."
I let out a groan.
"Tell you what." She pointed toward the hallway. "Go wash your face properly. I'll put the kettle on."
"You read my mind."
"I usually do," she said with a playful grin. "Meet me in the kitchen. Judging by your face, you desperately need a cup of tea."
"I won't argue with that."
About five minutes later, after splashing cold water on my face and changing into fresh clothes, I walked into the kitchen.
As we talked while drinking tea, Olivia talked about how everyone was excited for today, as we would finally begin working in the training hall.
I couldn't help but smile to myself.
After spending weeks buried behind computers, typing away at keyboards and copying books, I had a feeling their excitement had less to do with the training hall itself and more to do with finally escaping computer work.
===
The doors to the training hall swung open, and everyone filed inside.
I glanced around. The hall looked almost exactly as it had the last time I had been here. The only real difference was the floor. Wooden crates and boxes of every size were stacked neatly around the room, some already opened, revealing metal fittings, timber, cloth, ropes, and various magical materials.
We gathered around the long table in the hall. Olivia stepped forward, carrying a thick stack of papers before spreading them across the table.
"These are the final drafts," she announced, smoothing out one of the pages. "Everyone, take another look before we start."
Over the past few days, they had spent hours discussing different training exercises, debating how each challenge should be conducted, and making adjustments whenever someone found a flaw. Once the ideas had been finalised, Olivia had compiled a list of everything they needed.
Some of those materials could simply be purchased.
Those, I paid for without question.
The rest didn't exist anywhere on the market.
Which meant there was only one solution.
They would have to build them themselves.
And that was exactly why everyone was here today.
"Alright," Olivia clapped her hands together, drawing everyone's attention. "Let's get started."
Everyone quickly moved to their assigned workstations.
Each of them possessed different skills, so the work had naturally been divided according to their strengths.
Charlie claimed one corner of the hall almost immediately.
"As expected..." he muttered while examining one of the wooden training dummies.
The dummy looked similar to the ones from the movies—a roughly human-shaped wooden figure mounted on a sturdy frame with small wheels underneath.
Charlie crouched beside it, tapping one of the wheels with his wand.
"No... these have to go."
Oscar walked over, curious.
"Removing the wheels?"
Charlie nodded without looking up.
"If they roll around, beginners will spend more time chasing them than practicing." He pulled one free and tossed it aside. "I want them to behave more like real opponents during combat. Better to make them stationary first. We can always improve them later."
"Fair point," Oscar admitted.
Not far away, Jacob and Henry were already arguing over another design.
"If we reinforce it too much, it'll survive every spell," Jacob said.
"And if we don't," Henry replied, folding his arms, "someone will accidentally blast it apart on the first day."
"That's what replacements are for."
"Or..." Henry smirked, "...we could build it properly the first time."
Their discussion quickly drew in Olivia, and before long the three of them were sketching new ideas across one of the blueprints.
Soon the entire hall came alive.
The rhythmic sound of hammers echoed through the room.
Someone tested an enchantment.
Another called for more nails.
Ideas flew back and forth as quickly as the jokes.
They argued over designs, laughed when something failed spectacularly, and immediately started looking for a better solution.
I, on the other hand, simply sat at the long table, hands resting on the desk with documents spread out in front of me, quietly watching them.
For once...
There wasn't really anything I could contribute.
Watching them work together was enough.
Just like that, the day slipped by.
The second day wasn't much different.
By then, everyone had settled into a rhythm. Work started almost as soon as they arrived and continued until evening.
I tried to keep myself busy in the attic, but no matter what I did, my thoughts always drifted back to the same thing.
The letter.
Had Nicolas Flamel received it?
Had he read it?
Or had it never reached him in the first place?
By the third day, I could barely sit still.
Every few minutes, my eyes wandered toward the telephone sitting on the table.
I paced around the hallway.
Sat down on the couch.
Got back up again.
Walked past the phone once more.
Olivia eventually noticed.
She tilted her head.
"You're awfully restless today."
"Am I?"
"You've walked past that phone at least twenty times."
"Has it been that many?"
She folded her arms and gave me a knowing smile.
"So... are you expecting someone's call?"
"Yeah."
"Someone important?"
"A friend."
"...That's all?"
"That's all."
She studied me for another second before shrugging.
"If you say so."
Thankfully, she didn't ask any more questions.
Late that evening...
The telephone rang.
Ring... Ring... Ring...
I hurried across the room and grabbed the receiver almost immediately.
"Hello?"
A familiar voice answered.
"Tomorrow. The Leaky Cauldron." Martin spoke in an unusual flat tone. "Password... 'Is this seat taken?'"
He paused.
"'Only by good company.'"
I frowned.
"Hello, Martin. About the letter—"
No answer.
"Martin?"
Silence.
"Martin?"
"...Hello?"
The line went dead.
I slowly lowered the receiver back onto its cradle.
"...That was odd."
I stood there for a few moments, staring at the telephone.
Martin had always been a man of few words.
But this...
This was different.
He had said he would update me about the letter.
He hadn't.
He was also late to call, and when he finally did, he gave no explanation for the meeting.
That wasn't like him at all.
Normally he'd at least exchange a sentence or two before ending the call.
Tonight, he had only given me tomorrow's meeting place and the password.
Nothing else.
As I walked upstairs, a thought suddenly crossed my mind.
My footsteps came to an abrupt stop.
"...The password."
I muttered the words under my breath.
"'Is this seat taken?'"
and
"'Only by good company.'"
I frowned.
"It actually sounds... normal."
Last time, Martin had proudly told me he picked ridiculous passwords simply because he found them entertaining.
So why change now?
Had he finally listened to my complaints...
Or—
The uneasy feeling in my stomach grew stronger.
The more I thought about it, the less I liked it.
The safest option would be to simply skip tomorrow's meeting altogether.
But...
Things were different now.
I wasn't nearly as helpless as I had been before.
I turned around and hurried upstairs.
Olivia had just stepped out of her room when I caught up with her.
"Olivia."
She looked over, surprised.
"Hm?"
"I need a favor."
"At this hour?" She raised an eyebrow.
"I need you to take me to my house."
"My... your house?" she repeated. "Now?"
"Yes."
She looked genuinely confused.
"Can I ask why?"
"I need to pick up a few things."
"...Couldn't it wait until morning?"
I shook my head.
"I'd rather do it tonight."
She studied my face for a moment.
"You look serious."
"I am."
There was a brief silence.
"...Alright," she sighed. "But what's with the rush?"
"I'd also prefer if no one saw me."
She blinked.
"Now you're making me even more curious."
"I'm sorry."
After a little more persuasion—and several questions that I carefully avoided answering—she finally relented.
"...Fine. But you owe me an explanation later."
"I know."
A few moments later, we apparated to the street outside my house.
As soon as we arrived, Olivia quietly cast several concealment charms around us.
"There," she said. "No one should notice us."
"Thanks."
I slipped through the front door while she waited outside.
A few minutes later, I returned carrying a bag over my shoulder.
Olivia barely gave it a second glance.
After spending the last few days working from morning until night, she looked far too exhausted to question what I had gone inside to retrieve.
===
At around six in the morning, the alarm rang.
I opened my eyes almost instantly.
I got up and immediately began preparing the room. One by one, I shut every window before locking the door. I then took strips of wet cloth and carefully stuffed them into every gap around the windows and beneath the door until the room was as airtight as I could make it.
Only after making sure nothing could escape did I walk over to the table.
A small ceramic bowl sat in the centre. Beside it, I placed a worn leather pouch.
Opening it carefully, I began laying out its contents one by one.
Several dried leaves.
A bundle of herbs.
Four candles.
The dried leaves came from a magical plant known as Nightshade.
Unlike the ordinary poisonous plant that shared its name, this particular Nightshade was a magical herb found only in Jamaica in the MCU. It had been used by the villain Bushmaster in Luke Cage to temporarily grant himself tremendous physical strength and durability.
The trade-off, however, was equally dangerous.
Taken in large quantities, it was highly poisonous.
I had bought the herb for one reason.
I was weak.
The Wasp Suit allowed me to shrink, fly, and survive encounters that should have been impossible.
But when it came to actual combat...
I was still little more than an ordinary person.
Old injuries slowed me down, and my body carried more weight than it should.
I couldn't run very far without losing my breath.
I couldn't overpower trained opponents.
After thinking about it, I touched my chest, remembering how I had been shot in the heart a little over a month ago.
This was my emergency insurance.
I arranged the four candles around the room before placing several dried Nightshade leaves into the bowl.
With a flick of my lighter, the leaves caught fire.
Thin streams of dark smoke slowly curled upward before spreading across the sealed room.
The smell was sharp and bitter, making my eyes sting almost immediately.
Taking a deep breath, I lay back on the bed.
Then...
I inhaled.
The effects came almost instantly.
It felt as though molten metal had been poured directly into my veins.
"...Ghh!"
A pained groan escaped my lips as every muscle in my body tightened.
Heat spread through my chest before racing toward my arms and legs.
Within a minute, my entire body felt like it was on fire.
My fingers dug into the bedsheets.
Every instinct screamed at me to throw open the windows and escape the smoke, but I forced myself to stay where I was.
Just endure it...
The next hour felt endless.
My clothes were soaked through with sweat.
The bedsheets beneath me were no better.
Every minute crawled by as the burning sensation refused to fade.
Finally—
Beep... Beep... Beep...
The alarm rang again.
Breathing heavily, I forced myself upright.
My legs trembled under my own weight as I stumbled toward the window.
It took two attempts before my shaking hands managed to undo the latch.
The moment the window swung open, cool morning air rushed into the room.
I took a deep breath.
Then another.
And another.
The heaviness in my chest slowly eased.
My entire body still felt strangely heavy, almost as though I had spent the whole night carrying weights.
Yet beneath that exhaustion...
There was something else.
Strength.
I clenched my fist experimentally.
The movement felt firmer.
More solid.
A faint smile appeared on my face.
It was unlike anything I had ever felt before.
By around nine o'clock, I was ready to leave.
A small bag rested over my shoulder, hidden beneath a jacket that was one size too large for me. The oversized fit looked slightly awkward, but I didn't particularly care.
As I stepped outside, Olivia was already standing by the front door.
She smiled when she saw me.
"Heading out already?"
"Yeah."
I adjusted the strap of my bag.
"As I mentioned yesterday, the plan isn't fixed. I might be back tonight..."
I shrugged.
"...or it could take a few days. I honestly don't know."
Olivia nodded, though a hint of concern lingered in her expression.
"Alright then." She folded her arms. "Just promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"If your plans change, call."
"I will."
"You'd better." She gave me a playful look. "I'd rather not spend another afternoon wondering
if you've fallen asleep somewhere again."
I couldn't help but laugh.
"I'll try my best."
I chuckled, gave her a small wave, and turned toward the street.
Without another word, I walked away.
===
[The Leaky Cauldron]
The Leaky Cauldron was just as crowded as the last time I had visited.
Conversations filled the tavern, mugs clinked together, and the smell of freshly cooked breakfast mixed with the scent of butterbeer. Witches and wizards came and went through the entrance, while Tom moved effortlessly between the tables, serving customers as though the morning rush didn't bother him in the slightest.
I made my way to the table furthest from the entrance, tucked away in a quiet corner where I had a clear view of the entire room.
Just like always.
I ordered breakfast, unfolded a newspaper, and waited for Martin.
Time passed slowly.
By half past ten, the crowd had begun to thin. Empty tables appeared one after another, yet Martin still hadn't arrived.
I hid my face behind the newspaper, pretending to read, but my attention was elsewhere.
Something felt...
Different.
Every previous time I had met Martin here, there had always been a faint sense of unease, as though unseen eyes were constantly watching me.
Today...
Nothing.
No tension.
No lingering feeling that someone was observing me.
I lowered the newspaper slightly and casually swept my eyes around the room before returning to the article.
Interesting...
I had been sitting here for over an hour, yet that familiar sensation never came.
There was only one explanation.
Some kind of concealment charm seemed to be influencing my emotions, dulling my instincts and making me less aware of anyone watching, though I couldn't be certain, as my understanding of magic wasn't advanced enough to fully grasp it yet.
Just then, the tavern door opened.
Martin walked in.
He wasn't using Polyjuice this time. It was his real face.
The only unusual thing about his appearance was the pair of black sunglasses covering his eyes.
He slowly scanned the room until his gaze landed on me.
Without changing his expression, he walked over.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked in a flat, emotionless voice.
"Only by good company," I replied.
Martin silently took the seat opposite me.
I studied him for a brief moment before letting out a quiet sigh.
So my worst fears were right...
Martin was under the Imperius Curse.
Fortunately, I already knew about the curse.
After Voldemort's return, the Ministry had distributed pamphlets throughout magical Britain, educating witches and wizards on the Unforgivable Curses and how to recognise them. I had read them in detail. It said that someone under the Imperius curse feels relaxed and euphoric and that One of the easiest signs to notice was the victim's voice.
Flat.Monotonous voice.
The other sign was the empty, distant look in their eyes.
Martin's glasses hid most of that, but I had could seen them when i knew what to look.
"Martin?"
"Yes."
"..."
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Seeing him like this left an uncomfortable knot in my stomach.
I wanted to keep questioning him, but I also couldn't appear suspicious.
Whoever had sent him here was almost certainly watching.
Taking a slow breath, I forced myself to smile.
"So... why did you call me here?"
Martin answered without hesitation.
"I have found a dealer for the items."
"That's good." I nodded naturally. "Have you already sold them?" I decided to play along
"No."
"Why not?"
"They wish to meet the one who found them."
"They want to meet me?" I continued, shrugging lightly. "Fine. But there's nothing for me to bring."
"They still wish to meet you," Martin replied in that same flat tone.
I let out a quiet breath.
"Persistent."
"They believe you can verify the items."
I gave a small, amused huff.
"So this is about trust, not goods."
"Yes."
I tilted my head slightly.
"And if I refuse?"
"They will withdraw the offer."
I clicked my tongue softly.
"Convenient."
Martin said nothing.
I let the silence stretch for a moment, pretending to weigh my options.
"Hmm..."
I rubbed my chin thoughtfully.
"How much extra are we talking about?"
"Triple."
I let out a low whistle before giving a small, reluctant nod.
"That does make things a little complicated."
Martin remained perfectly still.
"I'll need to make a few phone calls first," I said, standing up with my bag. "Can you wait here while I use the phone booth?"
I paused for a moment, then set the bag down beside Martin's chair.
"Hold onto this for me," I added casually. "Wouldn't want to carry it around while I'm making calls."
I smiled.
"I won't be long."
Martin simply stared blankly at the chair I had been sitting in, his hand resting loosely near the bag.
He didn't answer.
Leaving the tavern at an unhurried pace, I walked towards the nearby phone booth.
At least...
That was what I wanted anyone watching to believe.
As I walked, my eyes constantly searched the surroundings.
I wasn't looking for the phone booth.
I was looking for an escape route.
Then I found it.
A pedestrian crossing.
Around ten people stood waiting for the signal to change.
Perfect.
I casually joined the crowd.
A few moments later, the light changed.
The group began crossing the road together.
People brushed past one another before dispersing in different directions.
When the crowd cleared...
I was gone.
Seconds later, three men rushed toward it.
Martin.
A tall wizard.
And a much shorter older man.
"Where the hell is he?" the tall man shouted, looking wildly around the street. "He was right here a second ago!"
The shorter man clicked his tongue.
"Don't just stand there!" he barked. "Spread out! He couldn't have gone far."
His expression darkened.
"Find him... or the boss is going to be furious."
Immediately, Martin ran in one direction while the tall wizard sprinted the other way.
The short man was already holding my bag.
He quickly unzipped it.
His face twisted with anger.
Inside...
There was nothing except a pile of old, crumpled newspapers.
"Damn it!"
He threw the bag onto the pavement before storming off to continue the search.
Meanwhile...
I stood silently on top of a signboard directly above them.
No taller than an insect.
Hidden inside my red-and-black Wasp suit.
Watching everything.
So he's the leader...
I decided to follow the shorter man.
After searching the surrounding streets for several minutes, the three eventually regrouped outside the Leaky Cauldron.
The short man rounded on the other two.
"Two wizards..." he snapped. "Two bloody wizards can't catch one damn Muggle kid?"
"B-but boss," the taller one stammered, "we searched everywhere."
"I don't care."
The short man jabbed a finger into his chest.
"Stop making excuses."
The two continued arguing as they walked.
Using the distraction, I flew silently toward Martin and slipped beneath the collar of his shirt.
Hidden from sight, I stayed perfectly still.
The group entered the Leaky Cauldron once more before passing through the hidden entrance into Diagon Alley.
After walking for several minutes, they turned into Knockturn Alley.
It was my first time seeing the infamous street.
The buildings leaned crookedly over the narrow road, their walls stained with age and neglect. Broken signs creaked overhead, while the dim light barely reached the ground between the tightly packed shops.
The deeper we walked, the quieter it became.
Eventually, they stopped outside a rundown shop whose windows were covered in grime.
Inside, an old man was already waiting.
Without saying much, he led the group into a small, dimly lit room.
The room was almost completely empty.
There was only one object resting on the floor.
An old, worn shoe.
The moment I saw it...
I guessed what it was.
A Portkey.
I tightened my grip inside Martin's collar.
A moment later, the familiar pulling sensation hit me.
Everything blurred.
Then...
My feet were no longer in Britain.
We arrived in a narrow, unfamiliar alleyway.
I stayed hidden and waited.
Soon the group stepped out onto the main street.
I looked past the surrounding buildings—
—and froze.
Far off in the distance, rising above the skyline...
stood the Eiffel Tower.
"Looks like," I muttered to myself, "I'll need to call Olivia."