As the capital of the Isle of Man, Douglas Port occupies one-third of the island's total area.
Attempting a complete search in a short amount of time was unrealistic. Moreover, searching blindly like a needle in a haystack would be largely futile.
Jon concealed a dark magic detector inside his sleeve—a device that looked like it was made of glass, shaped like a spinning top.
Its true identity, however, was a Sneakoscope.
Sneakoscopes were among the most common detection devices in the wizarding world, and also among the cheapest. Jon had bought his in Diagon Alley for a mere two Galleons.
When danger, suspicious individuals, or other creatures appeared nearby, the Sneakoscope would glow, spin, and emit a shrill whistling sound.
In theory, it sounded useful. In reality, it rarely lived up to expectations.
After all, a low-level magical trinket like this could easily be fooled by a simple Confundus Charm, making it incapable of detecting truly skilled Dark Wizards.
...
Along the way, Jon deliberately chose open areas with sparse human activity to conduct his search.
Unfortunately, after most of the night had passed, he still hadn't found any traces of magic. The Sneakoscope showed no abnormalities whatsoever. Searching like this was proving incredibly difficult.
However, Jon wasn't entirely without a plan—
When he arrived at a broad, open stretch of wilderness, he glanced down at his watch. It was already past ten o'clock at night.
Had Headmaster Phineas Black still not delivered his message to Hogwarts?
Just as Jon was beginning to feel irritated, a loud, echoing crack—like a gunshot—rang out behind him.
A rather ugly little creature appeared at his back.
It had two bat-like ears and a pair of protruding green eyes the size of tennis balls. Though its appearance was unpleasant, its eyes were filled with tears.
"Mr. Jon Hart?" the House-elf's shrill voice asked softly.
There was no doubt about it—Jon recognized the House-elf instantly. In a sense, it was the very first House-elf he had ever encountered.
"Hello… long time no see, Klein," Jon said as he bent down and gently took the House-elf's thin, tiny hand.
...
Years ago, when Jon had first entered Hogwarts, he had already established a good relationship with the House-elves working in the school kitchens.
He had given them many gifts, and they had offered him considerable help in return.
However, after the identity of Jon Hart had been declared dead more than a year ago, he had lost contact with them. Now that his identity was partially exposed, there was no longer any need to keep such things hidden.
So, a few hours earlier, Jon had asked Headmaster Phineas Black to relay a request to Dumbledore—asking him to have the Hogwarts House-elves Apparate to the Isle of Man to find him.
House-elf Apparition was not monitored by the Ministry of Magic, so their arrival would not attract any attention.
"Klein attended your funeral. I truly believed you had passed away…" the House-elf said while wiping away tears.
"Klein was heartbroken… I never imagined Professor Dumbledore would suddenly come to us over an hour ago, telling us you were still alive and needed our help… Klein was so happy I nearly cried…"
The House-elf's voice broke intermittently, but the sincerity of the emotion behind it was unmistakable.
"I'm sorry," Jon said softly.
Just as he was about to explain, the House-elf shook her head.
"Professor Dumbledore already told Klein… Mr. Jon Hart has a greater plan, so he needed to deceive everyone and declare himself dead…"
"Uh…" Faced with that kind of praise, Jon could only nod awkwardly.
After a brief pause, he continued, "What about the others… I mean, besides you? I need more help."
"Of course!" Klein blinked her large eyes, then snapped her fingers.
A series of loud, echoing cracks—like firecrackers—rang out one after another.
House-elves appeared everywhere, dressed in various styles of Hogwarts kitchen "uniforms," crowding around eagerly as they tried to get closer to Jon.
Looking at those enthusiastic faces, Jon felt a faint surge of emotion. Even though he couldn't remember most of their names, they had clearly never forgotten him.
He raised a hand, signaling for everyone to quiet down.
Then he spoke loudly, "Thank you all for your support… Yes, I need a bit of help from you."
"It is our honor to serve the great Mr. Jon Hart!" a House-elf at the front exclaimed. Jon vaguely remembered its name—it seemed to be Logeno.
"Thank you, Logeno," Jon said solemnly. "Listen carefully, everyone. We're on a very large island. A group of Giants lives here. They could be hiding anywhere, and their territory may even be concealed by magic. I need your help to find where they live."
"Locating them will be sufficient. The island is vast, but we must conduct a thorough, carpet-style search of every area," Jon continued after a brief pause. "Everyone, put your safety first. If you encounter danger, retreat immediately. If you find any information, come report to me at once. And remember—do not engage the Giants in any conflict. Just locate them."
...
The enthusiastic House-elves dispersed one by one, spreading out across different parts of the Isle of Man.
The island wasn't particularly large—just over five hundred square kilometers. With more than a hundred House-elves proficient in Apparition assisting in the search, if the Giants truly were on the island, they should be found before You-Know-Who returned to Britain.
With the House-elves' help secured, Jon began heading back toward the inn where Astoria was staying.
He needed a good night's rest. If the House-elves brought back news of the Giants' whereabouts early the next morning, he would be walking straight into a lion's den.
The inn looked no different than before. The Muggle landlady was still at the front desk, teasing the white tailless Isle of Man cat.
Suddenly, a piercing shriek burst out from Jon's sleeve, drawing the attention of nearly everyone in the lobby.
Jon's expression changed instantly.
It was the Sneakoscope hidden in his sleeve.
It suddenly began to glow brightly, spin at high speed, and emit a sharp, frantic whistle.