Chapter 17: Muggles Versus Magic
Marina stepped off the bus and stretched her arms up to the sky, bending backwards to try to work the stiffness off her spine. She let out a primal groan as her vertebrae strained against the motion and pain erupted in her lower back.
"Explain to me again why a plane was off the table? How hard is it to fake a passport when you have magic wands?" she grumbled as Moody passed her, looking haggard.
"Not about the passports," he barked. "Muggles these days, airports have more and more security. Can't take a wand through one of those scanners without the whole thing lighting up like fireworks …"
Remus heaved their bags out of the luggage hold and placed them heavily on the bricked pavement. Marina limped over, working her stiff legs clumsily.
"Can't you just memory wipe them?" Marina said desperately, leaning to one side as her leg cramped.
"Not easily, not with that many cameras," scowled Moody, seizing his bag from the pile. "You Muggles get more and more paranoid."
"Huh," Marina said, shooting Riddle a look as he lifted his bag onto his shoulder beside her. "Are you saying that Muggle security measures are superior –"
"Don't start," Riddle said flatly.
She smirked and followed Remus and Moody off down the road away from the small gaggle of passengers swarming around the bus. It was a clear evening, the cold air giving everything a sharp edge and the stars twinkled in the ink black sheet of the sky above. Marina wasn't sure where they were headed but she was too tired to care – they hadn't eaten properly in nearly ten hours and hadn't slept properly in three days. In silence they trekked down the quiet cobbled city street.
Finally, they came to a halt in front of a long expanse of yellowy stone brick wall that looked to form the side of a large hall. Moody looked around darkly before withdrawing his wand and placing his opposite hand flat on the wall. He muttered a muffled phrase in Albanian that Marina didn't understand and then pushed hard on the wall – with ease, a rectangular door-shaped section of the brick swung backwards without hinge or support. Moody immediately stepped through and Remus quickly guided both Marina and Riddle through the hole to allow the strange door to seal shut behind them seamlessly.
Inside was a cacophony of light and sound. Marina stared around the bar, unable to fathom how she had neither seen nor heard any of the commotion from just outside on the street. Hordes of drunken witches and wizards littered the bar with flagons of foaming golden drinks. They sat on tables, stools, bookcases, and the bar itself, yelling and singing under the warm glow of three ginormous swaying chandeliers that hung from a high stucco ceiling that was stretched with dark wooden beams. The noise was inescapable, and it took Marina a second to realise that Remus was trying to talk to her. She leaned towards him, trying to focus on his voice as a group nearby erupted into a raucous chorus of some drinking ballad.
"Alastor's getting the room keys!" Remus bellowed into her ear, still barely audible. "We're staying here tonight!"
He turned towards Riddle, evidently to tell him the same thing as Marina looked back around the bar in amusement. She wasn't sure they'd get much sleep, but it was certainly the liveliest leg of their journey so far. As she surveyed the crowd, a particular individual stood out in the worst way possible – an angry, roughened man with a broad chest and greasy clothes was making his way towards them with a determined, unpleasant look twisting his heavily moustached mouth. Behind him followed Moody with an equally ugly expression. Marina patted at Remus' arm, trying to catch his attention as the man grew closer. Remus turned and immediately took a step in front of Marina, shooting a questioning look at Moody whose scowl deepened in response.
The greasy man came to a halt in front of them and Marina noticed a heavy ring of brass keys hanging from his belt next to a stained, mottled cloth. Her stomach sank – if this man owned the place, she wasn't sure that they were about to receive the warmest reception.
The man barked a phrase in Albanian, his booming voice was so loud that it cut through the crowd with ease. Moody leaned forward, muttering something in the man's ear, who gave them a sour look before he tried again.
"No Muggle," he shouted in a thick Albanian accent, pointing at Marina. He was suddenly much easier to hear - Marina realised it was not because of his loud voice but because the surrounding cacophony of the bar was dissolving. Those nearest to them had fell silent and were watching the interaction with interest. The stillness spread through the bar like a fire and sooner than Marina thought even possible, the whole crowd was quiet, watching them intently as only the loud squeaking of the still swinging chandeliers filled the room.
"We arranged four beds," Remus said diplomatically. "We have money for –"
"No Muggle," the man said again, giving Marina a filthy look.
One of the bystanders spat at her feet and Marina jumped back, aghast. It felt like every set of eyes in the room were on her, cold eyes, hateful eyes, dispassionate eyes, eyes that seemed upset by what they saw but remained passive, nonetheless. Her skin crawled and her face felt hot.
Remus pulled out a coin purse and counted out a ridiculous number of Galleons which he held out to the man.
"Here, take extra. Just let us stay," he said firmly.
The man took the money immediately and stored it in one of the pouches hanging off his broad leather belt.
"You can stay," he said brusquely, "but no promises."
"No promises on what?" Moody asked suspiciously.
The man gave an ugly smile and began making his way back towards the bar. Slowly, noise returned to the crowd, but it was all hushed mutterings and dark tones that made Marina feel like evaporating.
"Let's get to our rooms," she said to Remus quietly, trying to put on a brave face. "I don't think I should stay out here."
Before Remus could reply, Moody shook his head. "We need to get some food," he said gruffly, stepping forward. "All of us. I'll sort something, wait here." He jerked a finger towards a relatively empty table and lumbered off after the barman.
Marina felt disappointment bloom in her stomach – she'd been hoping for a hasty retreat from the hostility. Instead, she quietly followed the grim-faced Remus to the table and took the seat opposite him, casting a terse look at their neighbours further down the table who were shooting her daggers.
As Riddle sat down across from her, Marina realised that he looked curiously unaffected by the tension in the room, like he'd not even noticed it. Marina tried to push down the feeling of hurt at his lack of care.
"No Muggle," one of the women at the table sneered at them.
Marina ignored them, staring hard at her hands on the table in front of her. Remus reached out and put a hand on hers, giving her an encouraging look when she caught his eye.
She gave a weak smile, trying to ignore the mutterings going on at the other end of the bar table.
Not quickly enough, Moody reappeared and sank into the seat next to Marina, distractedly rubbing at his wooden leg. "Food'll be here soon," he said, casting a dark look at their disgruntled neighbours.
No sooner had he done so did a CRACK resonated around them as three house-elves appeared holding heavy platters of rich, delicious food that wafted through the air and made Marina's stomach give a loud rumble.
"This is ridiculous," Remus said as the house-elves placed a plate in front of each of the wizards and leaving a conspicuous gap on the table in front of Marina. "You paid for four meals?"
"Aye," Moody said darkly. "I don't think money's the problem."
"Here," Remus said, sliding the plate in front of him to the middle of the table. "We can share."
"Thanks," Marina smiled. More than anything, she felt embarrassed that they had to deal with the attention she was getting because of her presence, wishing that the floor would swallow her so that they could enjoy their meal in peace.
Something sharp stung her cheek and she felt her face fling to the side – someone had sent a hex at her. Moody let out a great roar as their neighbours erupted into laughter, seeing Marina's cheek turn bright red and a welt beginning to form. She pressed her hand to it hard as both Remus and Moody stood, drawing their wands ferociously. Riddle had gone still, staring at Marina as her affected eye began to weep instinctively.
"Who was it?" thundered Moody, casting a striking image with his outstretched wand.
The other occupants only smirked. Moody looked like he was about to act right as the barman reappeared, looking just as furious as before. He began shouting in Albanian, failing to distinguish exactly who he was yelling at.
A flicker of motion caught Marina's eye and she turned from the commotion to see a weedy, blond haired wizard pointing his wand right at her, clearly taking advantage of Remus and Moody's turned backs. Marina pushed herself backwards off her chair as another hex whizzed past her, near grazing her face. She closed the short distance between her and wizard, seizing his wand with both hands, bent her leg up to her hip before shooting it out into his ribs as hard as she could, slamming the knife edge of her foot into his body. As the force of the kick shoved the man back hard, her firm grasp on his wand wrenched it from his hand. She held the wand and stared down at the shocked man's face, breathing heavily as adrenaline coursed through her.
Marina turned back to their table to find all its occupants staring at her. A deadly silence hung like a fog. She walked forward awkwardly, placed the wand on the table, and turned to Moody.
"I think I'll just go to my room," she said, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone else.
Moody placed a hand on her shoulder and flicked his wand at their bags and their food which sprung up and floated obediently behind him. He forcefully guided her through the silent crowd as Remus and Riddle stood quickly and followed. They made their way into a long, dimly lit hall and hurried along it, turning into a door near the end to find a small lounge with bedrooms leading off it.
The bags crashed into a neat pile in the corner and the plates onto the low table in the middle of the room as Moody slammed the door and rounded on her.
"What was that?" he snarled.
Marina fiddled nervously with her hands. "He was going to curse me, so I –"
"This isn't good," Remus interrupted. He had started pacing, running his fingers through his grey tinged hairs. The stressed look on his face made Marina feel even more guilty. "We may have to find somewhere else to stay."
"I'll ward the door," Moody said dismissively, turning to it with his wand drawn. "Be a miracle if these Flobberworms get through my wards…"
Marina fell into one of the armchairs, letting her head sink into her palms.
Remus approached her, crouching as he drew his wand. "Let me see your face," he said, peering at the hex sting. "That looks nasty… here." He pointed his wand at the wound and Marina felt a cool sensation spread across her cheek. It felt very good.
"How did you do that?" said a quiet voice.
She looked around to see Riddle assessing her with an intense stare. "Sorry?"
"You knew what to do, how to move," said Riddle, sitting on the couch opposite her slowly. "How did you know what to do? To… disarm him?" he said it with distaste, like he disapproved.
"Oh," she said blankly. "I – well, you know those silly Muggle exercises? The stretches?"
He nodded, not breaking eye contact.
"Well, I don't do them for nothing," Marina said, feeling embarrassed. Remus had stood and was listening to her answer as well, and the attention made her shift uncomfortably. "I've been doing martial arts for nearly twenty years now."
"Martial arts," Riddle repeated, not sounding impressed.
"Yeah," she said, sheepishly. "Good for self-defense, you know. My parents started when I was a kid and brought me along when I was five. I never stopped going."
There was a beat of silence.
"Perhaps we should be careful to not underestimate you, Marina," Remus said as he sat next to Riddle. His face was still stressed, but there was a curl to his lips like he couldn't help but find amusement in the situation.
"Why didn't you do this when you were attacked in Hogsmeade?" Riddle demanded, not seeming as impressed.
"It took me by surprise back then," Marina admitted, "but it also gave me an idea of what to look for. Like, what it looks like when someone was about to cast a spell. It's very similar to when someone's coming at you with a knife –"
"Has someone come at you with a knife before?" Remus said immediately, looking alarmed.
"No!" Marina held up her hands. "No, like, when we practice, when we're being taught we pretend –"
Riddle looked disgusted. "Muggles learn how to brawl for fun," he scoffed.
Marina felt annoyance shoot through her. "You know what, Riddle, maybe you shouldn't judge it so hastily. I'd like to see what you would have done if he'd tried to curse you. Without a wand you can't do jack shit."
Riddle's eyes flashed. "If I had a wand, he wouldn't have even been able to draw –"
"But you don't," Marina said, standing angrily. "You don't have a wand, and if you wizards don't have a wand, you're bloody useless. That's the difference between Muggles and wizards isn't it? Muggles try to solve problems themselves, whereas you just paste magic over everything and hope to high hell that you always have your little wooden sticks with you –"
Riddle leapt to his feet too, anger seething in his face as he stepped towards her. "A Muggle doesn't have half the power of a wizard, you could only dream –"
"Sure," Marina nodded aggressively, "magic is all powerful and all-encompassing and nothing Muggles can ever do will overcome it. That's why you all still write with bird feathers rather than a ball point pen, right?"
"Marina," Remus said quietly, "perhaps we should all get some sleep."
But Riddle evidently disagreed. "Muggle technology will never amount to what magic can accomplish," he hissed.
"No offense, Riddle, but you were born in like 1920," Marina scoffed. "Muggle technology has changed quite a bit since then, and you know what? I bet the magical world is the exact fucking same. The Muggle world changes every goddamn decade more than the magical world does in centuries –"
"How is change proof of superiority?" Riddle spat derisively.
"It's not!" Marina cried. "It's proof of growth! Something the magical world appears to have abandoned because it's so up its own ass about having magic that you never think to do anything differently! Muggles don't have that luxury! We have to figure out how make things better ourselves! Don't see the magical world coming up with the internet, do you? You all still send letters with owls because a simple bloody text message is too primitive apparently –"
"Enough!" bellowed Moody. "Both of you, go to bed! Stop this incessant bickering, you sound like children!"
Marina seized her bag and stormed through one of the bedroom doors, shutting it behind her with her foot as she threw the bag on the bed and paced the room, trying to let go of her pent-up energy. She shouldn't have yelled at Riddle, she knew that, but it was so bloody hard to get through his thick fucking skull –
"Marina?" Remus' voice came as he knocked lightly on the door.
She froze. "Yeah?" she called tensely.
"We're leaving early tomorrow morning, make sure you're ready," he said. She heard him walking from the door without waiting for an answer.
Marina groaned, falling onto the bed. She could feel his disappointment at her outburst through the door.
Tomorrow was going to be a disaster.
They made their way out of the inn before the sun had risen, the bar a thankfully deserted. Marina stepped over toppled chairs and fallen tankards with her silent stoic companions. As they exited onto the cold winter morning street, Moody and Riddle took the lead, walking through the streets in quiet conversation that Marina couldn't discern.
She didn't want to think of herself as moping, but that was probably what she was doing. The anger she'd felt had long since vanished leaving her feeling embarrassed and regretful at her and Riddle's fight. Perhaps trash talking the magical world in front of three wizards, with one of whom she was about to take a life-threatening journey into the past and who is explicitly required to trust her, wasn't her greatest idea to date.
After a long stretch of tense, silent walking, Marina turned to Remus. "Hey," she said quietly. "I'm sorry about last night. I was stressed and emotional, and I shouldn't have let it come out like that, it was really irresponsible. I'm sorry."
Remus gave her a long look and sighed. "You're only human, Marina," he said, looking back at their pair of leaders. "Just as Riddle is only human."
She nodded, not feeling much better. "Still though," she muttered. "I'm not a troubled teenager. I should have acted better."
"Regardless," Remus said tightly, not disagreeing with her, "what's done is done. We have new battles to tackle this morning."
Marina grit her teeth as they kept walking, her bag weighing heavy on her shoulder. As they left the edge of town and started winding their way through more and more fields, she wondered exactly where Riddle was leading them.
"Where are we going?" she asked tiredly as the sun began to stain the sky on the horizon.
"Dumbledore said that when he touched the diadem, Riddle saw a farmhouse," Remus said, puffing slightly. "By the forest edge."
"Why would Voldemort go to a farmhouse to kill someone?" she wondered out loud.
"Because they had the diadem," Riddle said sharply from in front of them. It was the first he'd spoken to Marina all day and she felt surprise shoot through her. "The man was a lumberjack, he found the diadem in the forest," Riddle continued, looking dead ahead. "He brought it home for his daughter."
"Did she wear it?" Marina asked, gobsmacked.
"I don't know," said Riddle, archly. "I could only feel where… it happened."
He fell silent and Marina didn't push for any more than that – the fact that he was speaking to her at all felt like a small miracle in itself.
The sun was full in the sky by the time they arrived where they needed to be, shining down on them through a misty landscape of expansive farmland and small dotted wooden houses. A tall, dark forest loomed to their left. Nearby, pressed right against the forest edge was a tiny farmhouse of simple stone bricks and ceramic tile roof.
"Is that it?" she whispered.
Riddle nodded.
At this, Moody pulled the familiar time-turner from his robes and turned to them gravely. "Considering what happened last time," he began in a gravelly, serious tone, "we will be waiting here to take care of you when you get back. Don't waste time," he said forcefully, "the longer you're back there, the worse the effects."
Riddle and Marina nodded. Marina wondered if Riddle felt as much trepidation as she did. With everything that had been happening, she'd barely had time to think about how they were about to go through this all over again.
"Marina," Remus said, touching her shoulder lightly. "The feather?" He spoke quietly, right into her ear.
She only nodded, feeling the feather in her pocket in an attempt to reassure herself.
"Alright," said Moody, looping the chain over both their necks.
Marina looked away uncomfortably and saw Riddle do the same.
"For Merlin's sake, get over it and get the job done," Moody growled. "It was a stupid thing to fight over, anyway."
"Just focus on what's important," Remus said hastily, giving Riddle's arm an encouraging squeeze. "You will both be fine."
Remus brought from his bag a beautiful, silver-wrought crown that glittered in the morning sun. Marina took it immediately, turning it over and watching it glimmer. Riddle scoffed loudly at her magpie-like response and she shot him a look before they both seemed to remember that they were mad at each other and turned away abruptly. She stowed the diadem in her bag carefully, pillowing it within her spare set of clothes to stop it from getting jolted.
Marina took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, looking up at Riddle. "How many turns?" she asked in an even tone.
He hesitated for only a second, assessing her. "Thirty-five," he said in an equally even voice.
In her peripheral vision, Marina saw Moody shake his head disparagingly.
She grasped the time-turner's dial.
"Ready?" she asked, unsure if she was asking Riddle or herself.
Riddle nodded. Marina turned the dial.
Remus' concerned face and Moody's grizzled one vanished immediately, the world exploding into angry orange grey clouds. Counting firmly, Marina tried to concentrate on the delicate golden contraption. So much sooner than last time did the dizziness strike her, the grey tunneling of her vision, the sickness. By the twentieth turn, Riddle was grasping both her arms to hold her upright and she could only vaguely feel his hands. Soon the only thing she could see was the little dial in front of her, walled in on all sides by the grey nothingness.
With the last turn she let go of the time-turner with relief – but instead of settling, the world around them remained wild and turbulent. Confusion washed over her as she leaned heavily on Riddle, barely able to stand upright before the cold spray of rain hit her and Marina understood.
They had arrived in the middle of the night, and all around them raged a monstrous storm. In the black sky above, lightening illuminated rolling, roiling clouds and thick rain plummeted down to meet them in icy sheets. Wind tore at them as they stood there attempting to get their bearings.
"The house!" Riddle yelled, his hair already plastered to his face. "We have to get to the house!"
Marina nodded, feeling nausea sweep through her as she tried to take a step. She fell heavily and Riddle bent with her to stop the motion from snapping the time-turner's chain. He pulled it off his neck and helped her upright, letting her lean on him heavily as they turned towards the house. It was the only thing they could see clearly, its bright illuminated windows their beacon as they stumbled across the unfamiliar terrain.
Twice they fell, once in a muddy ditch that had appeared out of nowhere, and once when the wind grew so strong that it blew them off balance. Covered in mud, drenched to the bone, and teeth clattering against the cold, they finally arrived at the house.
Riddle knocked hard as Marina near collapsed against the door frame, thankful to have something solid to lean against. The door sprung open to reveal an older woman with long greying hair and a round, tanned face, deeply creased and heavily concerned. She looked at them agape before seizing them both and pulling them inside, shutting the door against the howling wind as soon as they were over the threshold.
She rounded on them, chattering in Albanian and rushing around the room as Marina felt her balance starting to give. Something didn't feel right – whether it was from the time-travel, or the gut-wrenching cold, or the buffeting from the storm, Marina's vision was swimming and her thoughts couldn't catch on anything concrete. There was a dizzying moment where she thought she'd collapse and then suddenly the woman was back, grasping her arms and leading her firmly towards a couch. Marina sat heavily as the woman began pulling her soaked sweater off her head and jerked her mud-clogged shoes and sopping socks from her feet. Before she knew it, the woman was wrapping her in thick blankets, and pulling woollen socks onto her feet that had turned bone-white in the cold.
Distantly, Marina recognised a familiar sound – a fire crackling. She looked up blearily to see a young boy stoking a rustic hearth with fat logs, watched the fire lap at them hungrily and crackle with content. As the fogginess cleared, Marina squinted at her surroundings for the first time.
They were in a small, warm, cosy room lit by the large fire with windows tightly shuttered against the storm. Across from her she could see Riddle on another faded couch with a blanket around his shoulders, wet hair dripping down his face, inching closer to the fire. The small boy stoking it kept looking up at him in fascination, prodding the logs with a long iron poker.
The older woman was still chattering away, apparently unaware that neither of them could understand them. Marina's attention had been seized, however, by something hanging on the wall beside them, something that at that very moment she also had stowed in her bag. She carefully caught Riddle's eye and nodded slowly behind him as subtly as she could.
He inched his head to the side, eyes going wide as he saw what she'd noticed. On a simple wooden peg, glimmering golden in the bright firelight, Ravenclaw's diadem hung on the wall of the little farmhouse.
A/N: thanks to KiraCalico who reminded me in a review that I forgot to explain why they couldn't use a plane in the last chapter, I was running away with my ideas forgetting to explain them! Much appreciated ❤️
Also thanks to THGHPTVD.2 for catching my error! Appreciated ❤️
And to NightRise! So many thanks in this chapter omg, but yes thank you for catching my silly chronology error. I don't understand how I can edit so much and stupid mistakes still slip through... thanks for keeping me on the straight and narrow!