Chapter 1196: The Golden Bird

Chapter 1196 -835: The Golden Bird

As a magic transport specifically for wizards, the Knight Bus is unrivaled in price and efficiency, though the experience leaves much to be desired.

Kael had to clutch the handrail beside his seat with all his might to ensure he wouldn’t be thrown out by the sudden huge inertia.

This double-decker bus was like a frolicking husky on the street; you never knew which road it would appear on next. It might squeeze through an alley just wide enough for one person or race down an undeveloped rocky path. Or perhaps hop over someone’s rooftop.

The focus was on efficiency; as long as it could take a shortcut, it would, even if there was no road.

Finally, before Kael could lose his breakfast, the bus came to a stop.

“Godric’s Hollow!” the cheerful voice of the conductor came from the front, revealing her genuine love for the job.

Kael quickly descended from the bus; if he could help it, he never wanted to experience it again.

As the door closed behind him, he heard the conductor’s voice once more.

“Next stop, Diagon Alley, we have more guests.”

The double-decker bus flickered a few times in the air before vanishing.

Kael stood still, taking a moment to settle his churning stomach.

At this moment, the effect of the Polyjuice Potion gradually faded away, and black hair sprouted again on his sparsely-haired head, returning Kael to his original appearance.

The timing was perfect; if it had taken any longer, he would have had to drink a second sip of Polyjuice Potion. In such a bumpy situation back then, Kael wasn’t sure if he’d keep the Magic Potion down.

A few minutes later, he turned and walked into Godric’s Hollow.

Unlike his memories, Godric’s Hollow then seemed still to be a solely wizard-inhabited place. The buildings were all various and bizarre configurations—none were ordinary houses.

Kael passed a structure tapering down like a large umbrella and then followed a giant wheel-shaped watermill into the valley’s heart.

First, he needed to find Dumbledore’s house, which he had inquired about beforehand. It was located on the southern side of the valley, near Bathilda Bagshot’s home—they were once neighbors.

Although Kael had visited Bathilda’s home, that was a hundred years in the future, and now the surrounding environment was vastly different. Kael wandered around the valley several times, taking a long time to find the two-story house.

Bathilda’s home looked much the same as in his memory, but it appeared much newer. The walls weren’t covered in the unsightly vines, and its blue color, paired with a bright red roof, was eye-catching.

The garden, though small, was well-tended, filled with Ruta Graveolens flowers emanating a faint fragrance detectable from afar. A modest birdbath in the garden’s center attracted many chirpy birds.

It was clear the homeowner loved this place, tending to everything meticulously.

Kael had initially noticed it, but instinctively thought he was on the wrong path… It was too different from the dark, shut-in Bagshot Mansion of his memory, a natural horror film setting once night fell.

Not until he circled the entire area, exhausting all other possible locations, did he return here.

When he arrived, a witch looking no older than in her twenties was chasing away gnomes from the garden, while venting toward a window on the second floor.

“I knew it, they’d expel you sooner or later, just look at what you’ve done. Who conducts such dangerous magical experiments at school… Hey, Gellert, I’m talking to you. At the very least, you should look at me out of courtesy, especially since I’m your great-aunt.”

“I heard you, no need to keep reminding me of that.”

A slightly exasperated voice came from upstairs, followed by a golden-haired head poking out of the window.

“You don’t look much older than me. Honestly, instead of great-aunt, I prefer the term aunt, it sounds younger, don’t you think?”

The boy upstairs appeared around fifteen or sixteen, younger than Dumbledore at the time, though slightly immature, but quite handsome.

From the way he was addressed, this must be Gellert Grindelwald.

His hair was long, draping over his shoulders, of a beautiful golden color. Under the sunlight, it shimmered, making him look like a large bird perched on the windowsill.

“Don’t think I’ll believe your sweet-talk anymore Gellert. I’m telling you; it won’t work on me, not one bit.”

Although saying this, young Bathilda Bagshot seemed unaware her voice had softened significantly.

“Don’t change the subject. Why conduct those dangerous Dark Magic experiments at school, when the holidays would arrive in a few days?”

“Now you’ve been expelled, you can’t even get a certificate.”

“Certificate, ha, I don’t need something like that to prove myself.”

Gellert Grindelwald said nonchalantly, “Moreover, good ideas only strike in an instant; I haven’t the patience to wait a few more days.”

“If you don’t care about the certificate, why did you come to me for refuge?” Bathilda questioned.