After the boat docked, the hazy daylight that had concealed the real Avalon Island began to dissipate.
It was as though someone had used a dry towel to wipe clean a pane of glass covered in mist. The mysterious Avalon Prison gradually revealed itself before the young wizards.
As their view cleared, Harry's tightly pressed lips gradually parted, just like those of the other young wizards, while his emerald eyes filled with profound confusion.
Like a perfectly flat plain, the island lay fully exposed before the Hogwarts students.
The level ground was divided into square plots of farmland, where rice—something that should not have been growing in this season—had been planted.
Nearby, green rice stalks swayed gently in the breeze drifting across the island. Flocks of sparrows skimmed low over the paddies, pecking hurriedly at the grain before being startled away by scarecrows standing in the fields, swaying back and forth with a rustle of branches.
The land farther away, meanwhile, was bare and black, as though it had yet to be cultivated.
Harry sniffed. The fresh scent permeating the air actually made him feel remarkably refreshed!
This... was Avalon Prison?!
If not for the low, two-story building at the center of the island, sizable in area and a cold, harsh gray, Harry might have thought Professor Breen had brought them out for a picnic.
The scenery here was no worse than Saint Catchpole Village, where Ron's family lived!
But Professor Breen did not respond to the confused looks directed at him. Instead, he jumped off the boat first, tossed back a "Disembark and form up," then headed toward the few people waiting for him by the shore.
Those people were clearly not wizards. They dressed much like the villagers Harry often saw in Hogsmeade—or so Harry thought.
But he