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Two – Starting the Journey
Rubbing my eyes, I tried to kept the tears at bay.
I knew that I could remove the Trace from my original wand, but I'd always been pretty bad at the practical parts of wandlore. I only needed to concentrate enough and it would be a piece of cake, but I felt tired and angry and sad and the exhaustion was deep inside my bones. So deep that I felt like I would never be free of it again. I couldn't deal with anything anymore. Thus, making me want to cry because I thought that removing the Trace from my wand was simply too much to handle for me right now.
Pressing the heels of my palm hard enough against my closed eyes to see stars, I finally lowered them. With a deep breath, I tried to calm myself and stop the self-pitying. I could do that later. When I was safe again and was able to lose myself in the maelstrom that my emotions were.
I repositioned myself on the wobbly chair and rolled my shoulders, allowing myself to relax in the room that I had rented for the whole reminder of the night. Arriving at the outskirts of village in the dead of the night, I'd quickly changed into the only other outfit I had brought with me: the Muggle trousers and shirt. Stuffing my hair under a shapeless cap and slumping my shoulders a bit to hide the physique of my body, I could almost be mistaken for a young and very androgynous boy.
When I'd reached the only inn of the small town, I'd almost confunded the old lady behind the counter, before I stopped myself short. Not only had my wand still the Trace, but magic left always evidence. It was rather unlikely that any of Grindelwald's people would ever make it to the small town and it was even more unlikely that they would take a glimpse into the mind of that specific lady. But better safe than sorry.
So, I'd produced some coins of the Muggle currency from the depts of my knapsack and had paid for a room for the night. Although I'd wanted nothing more than to stay in this room forever and hide under the blanked, I knew that I couldn't stay too long at one place. It would be safer to stay on the move. I would follow the plan that my father had shared with me, if one could name it that. I only knew that London was one destination on our route, but I had no idea which was our final one. I would worry about that if I ever made it to London alive and well. To achieve that, I had to cross numerous countries that were not only ensnared in a Muggle war, but also a magical one. To top that off, I obviously had Gellert Grindelwald's men hot on my heels.
I clenched my eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from falling as I once more realized the hopelessness of my situation. Five deep breaths later, I told myself that I had to tackle one thing after another, otherwise I would lose my mid.
"Alright", I whispered to myself, taking another calming breath.
Concentrating on my old wand in front of me, I raised the Elder Wand and swished it in an intricate pattern above it. Murmuring lowly, I willed my magic to accomplish the task that I had set my mind to. I envisioned the wand, its core and its magical ability, and the spell that the Romanian Ministry had woven into the very fabric of that wand. With one syllable after another, I muttered the counter-spell until I was sure that my original wand was free of the Trace. In Romania and most of the rest of Europe, young wizards and witches only acquired the status as adults with the age of eighteen, so I had cheated the freedom to cast without surveillance by two years.
I leaned back in the old, creaky chair and pocketed the Elder Wand. I had no desire to use it more than necessary. That bloody wand was the reason for all the chaos. It as the reason why my father had been killed and Mina had been slaughtered, along with half of the village. It had caused me to run from my home.
"Stop it", I growled to myself, trying to ban the dark thoughts from my mind.
I had to plan. I needed to find a way to make it to London.
With my own wand – though the Elder Wand had accepted me as its mistress, it felt wrong to call it 'my' wand – I sketched the boarders of the European countries with brightly burning lines in the air, letting the picture float. Grimacing, I hoped that my impromptu map wasn't too much off as geography was not my brightest subject.
Eyeing the map, I pinched my lips in thought. I couldn't just apparate there. It was ages ago that I'd been in Paris or Brussel, or any other city that was closer to the English border. I had no idea if those localities still looked the same and I didn't know of any other official apparition sites, that I could use. Providing that Grindelwald didn't monitor those sides. And apparating blind was out of the equation. The probability to splinch myself was so high, that it was almost a given.
I had no Portkey at hand and I've never learned to create one in the practical sense. Reading about it and understanding the theory and trying it with my life depending on my success were vastly different things. Furthermore, for all I knew, Portkeys could be monitored, even unauthorised ones, because of their unique magical signature. Unless I found a Portkey that was authorised and created by someone who knew their magicks, I had no resources in that department as well.
Floo would be one realistic and not too dangerous option, if I found a fireplace that was hooked to the Floo network and if I knew the name of the arrival fireplace. The distance of my travel would be limited, but it was better than nothing. Since I was sitting in a very Muggle inn right now, I could cross Floo off my list, but keep it in mind. Flying was out of the quest as well. I had no broom and I had no idea what magical means made a broom fly. Unless I stumbled across one, a broom wasn't an alternative either.
Insofar my travel options weren't too bright. My desperate mind reminded me of the ship that my school used for large-scale travel, but this was not even an alternative that I could to entertain, for too many reasons.
"Urgh", I made an unhappy und unattractive noise deep in my throat.
So, assuming that I had no magical means of transportation, I needed to travel like a Muggle. That meant that I would cross (Austro-)Hungary and Germany to make it to France, where I would cross over to Great Britain. I guessed that I could hide well enough all things considered, though I had no desire to enter Germany. The real challenge would be the crossing from France to Britain. I eyed my amateurish map. As incomplete as a plan could be, I would first head for Vienna and then for Reims. Even if my drawing was off, I knew that the cities should roughly be en route towards my destination.
Sighing, as the bone-deep fatigue weighted down my body, I at least had some sort of a plan. Vienna – Reims – London, via Muggle transportation – that I know almost nothing of -, unless I found a better way which I highly doubted. I had no idea what distance that journey was and how long it would take to accomplish it, but I had no other choice.
Casting a Tempus, I realized that I had five solid hours before I had to make it down to the dining area where the breakfast would be offered. Luckily for me, the breakfast was included in the price for the night's stay.
I removed my clothing until I was only in my brassiere and knickers and flopped onto the bed, pulling the thin blanket over my body. Casting a quick warming charm that would never persist for five hours, I tried to find a comfortable position, but the Elder Wand kept poking me in my hips. With a low growl I surrendered to an uncomfortable sleeping position. There was no way that I would put the Deathstick out of my reach, I clearly remembered the story of The Three Brothers and how the oldest one had parted with his life.
With that joyful thought I fell asleep in mere seconds.
"Don't worry, băiat", the old owner of the inn laughed in his beard, the rural dialect heavy in his Romanian lilt, "the lorry will take the young men towards Budapest, where they're drafted for the war. You're way too young to be of use for them!"
I clenched my jaw as he laughed, as I didn't find it one bit funny. Those boys, hardly any of them twenty years of age, were not so much older than me, although my disguise seemed to transform me into a boy of maybe twelve years. I thanked my slight build for the first time in my life. But those boys would die in the war and the inn owner had nothing better to do than laugh about it. I stopped the grinding of my teeth before I ruined them definitely.
"So, I can simply join them on the journey?" I asked, trying to modulate my voice into something that sounded like boy in his puberty voice change. Once more, I was thankful for the broad education I had received thanks to my parents, as I could disappear within the locals, though my Romanian did sound a bit posh indeed.
"Sure, sure", he asserted.
He opened his mouth as if to say something else, but stopped himself when he saw one of his patrons trying to help himself to a bottle of alcohol from behind the counter.
"Ei!", he yelled in clear annoyance, "you have to pay for that!"
With that I was obviously forgotten and I finished my breakfast – gruel, a piece of dry bread and a coffee that could wake up the dead – in silence. My knapsack was already with me, so I simply brought the dishes to the counter of the kitchen and left the inn. Though I've had a short night, it had been restful. The moment my head had touched the pillow, I've been out, no nightmares disturbing my slumber. Maybe I had been too tired to even dream.
Just outside of the inn was a rather big yard with an old well that was currently used as a loading zone. There was an open lorry, where a few young men were hurrying around. The vehicle was obviously not only the means of transportation for some men to Budapest, but also to get rations. Potatoes and onions piled on the ground of the truck, so it would be an uncomfortable exercise to find a sitting position.
"Do you still have one seat?" I asked without introduction when I was nearing the men.
One of the men looked up, assessing me quickly. "For someone as small as you? We'll find something. But are you sure you want to travel that direction?"
"Da", I affirmed and lent them a hand for the last few bags of food.
"Alright", one young soldier rounded up the other men, when all the food rations had found their way on the lorry, "get on the truck, we'll be leaving in five!"
I waited till all of the passengers had taken a seat, before I climbed the vehicle myself. That meant that I had to balance on top of a sack full of potatoes, but it was still better than sitting in the middle of all those strangers. I needed my privacy.
The soldier hopped in the driver's cabin and started the motor with a low rumble. The whole lorry vibrated and I suddenly felt nervous. I'd seen cars and other Muggle transportation before, but I've never been in one. I knew that I had nothing to fear, but I still felt anxious.
But the driver steered the lorry skilfully on the bumpy road and our journey began. Wiggling a bit around to find a comfortable position without crushing any of the onions next to me, I pulled the black book my father had given me from my knapsack. After all that planning last night, I hadn't been able to take a look into it, so I'd decided to use the long drive to Budapest to read it.
Before I could open it however, a hand appeared in front of my face. Slightly startled, I looked up into the young and friendly face of one of the passengers. I was confused for a moment before I understood the Muggle gesture. Leaning forward I grabbed his hand and gave it a confident shake.
"Ivan", he introduced himself with a smile on his face.
"Name's Miloš", I quickly lied.
Looking around, I saw that all the young men making introductions with each other. I gave a half-hearted smile and wave and repeated my cover-name louder, so I wouldn't have to go through the struggle to shake every single man's hand. I knew that I appeared impolite, but I simply wanted to start reading my father's notebook, so I gave a stiff nod and focused on the booklet again. Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind, they only turned towards company that was interested in conversation.
Opening the book carefully, I skimmed towards the fist page with an entry, my fingers tracing the neat script of my father. But I frowned when I saw that it was not a notebook, like my father had said. Judging from the form of the entry, it was a diary. My father's diary.
I sucked in a shocked breath and looked up in worry that someone had seen my suspicious behaviour but they were all too busy with making acquaintances with each other. Lowering my glance once more, I started to read, eager to learn why my father had given me his diary.
'… and because of that I will never see my beloved Adelina again. Hadn't it been for the wand and for my carelessness, I could still hold my wife in my arms. Now, I will never see her again. I cry silent tears, while I try to keep little Galya safe and sound. Holding my daughter in my arms, all I can see is her mother's eyes, and the similarity of their delicate features. It hurts so much and I love her so strongly. How will I ever keep her out of harm's way?...'
I continued reading about how my father had planned to mislead others with a rumour that the Elder Wand was somewhere in Japan, but my eyes burnt too badly. The tears threatened to fall and I was afraid that I would ruin the ink, if I cried on the diary. Snuffling delicately, I carefully rubbed the sleeves of the coarse Muggle jacket over my face to vanish the evidence of my sadness.
Peeking from the corner of my eyes to my companions, I was glad that no one seemed to have noticed the display of emotions. Some of them were in deep slumber, hunched in positions that would leave them in awful backpain. The earlier chatter had quieted down, but we were on the road for a few hours now, so that was no wonder. Blinking against the sun that was standing high in the sky, I tried to evaluate how far we'd gotten, but I had no idea. Muggle traveling was foreign to me. Judging from the relaxed manner of the other passengers, I guessed that we still had a long way to go, although we'd already spent the whole morning on the rumbling vehicle.
Deciding to take a quick break from the reading to let my emotions settle down and to rest my eyes, I rolled my shoulders and watched the surroundings pass by. The street we were travelling on was nothing more than hardened soil, accompanied on one side by a sparse forest and on the other side by some fields, that held no crops, though it was harvest season. The sight was rather depressing.
After a few moments of my staring, I saw something in the distance along the road that made me peek up. Though our lorry was rather slow – maybe I was prejudiced by apparition and Floo – we were closing in on the walking figures at the side of the road. When we were close enough, I saw that it was a mother and a small child. Both of them were clothed in dirty rags, no shoes no their feet but heavy sacks on their shoulders, even the little one. From up close, I could see that their cheeks were hollowed and that they were struggling with the weight of their load. We passed them and they only gave us a faraway look, not noticing us otherwise.
I was shocked. The two looked half-starved and sick.
I must have shown something on my face, as the young man from before, Ivan, addressed me.
"The war leaves us all tired and hungry."
Looking up, I saw him still gazing at the two Muggles, his expression neutral. I had so many questions, I didn't even know where to begin. Because of my friendship with Mina, I knew that the Muggle war was exceptionally harsh and brutal, but I had never witnessed it first-hand. Hearing about the starving population was something different than seeing it. Even more so, our village had been rather spared from the war, me being magical only more so.
"What were they doing?" I asked.
"Probably searching for food in the woods. Maybe mushrooms or some edible roots or stuff like that. My mother used to do that as well, before her back got worse."
I looked back, but I couldn't see the two figures anymore. "They looked so worn."
Ivan laughed without humour. "Well, I guess that's because they are."
He saw my pinched expression and gave a shrug, a dismissive and joyless smile on his face. "Băiat, this is a war. The men are away to fight and lose their lives, and the women and children are at home, starving and losing their lives as well. Maybe our leaders will win this war, but we sure as hell won't."
I stared with wide eyes at him. His perception was probably right but I had no idea how to answer. We were currently on our way to Budapest so he could join the forces against the Wehrmacht and he clearly seemed to realize that he would give his life in this war. But there was no anger, no reluctance or even worry in his face. I could not understand how he could see the reality of this war, without being angry that he was dragged into it.
I was bloody angry that Grindelwald was after me. And afraid and weak and so very tired.
Ivan slapped me on the back, making me teeter dangerously on the sack of potatoes I was sitting on. He shook his head with a disbelieving smile on his face.
"Oh, how sheltered you must've grown up", he mumbled more to himself than to me.
I turned away from him. There was nothing that I could say to that. Yes, my childhood had been lovely. The death of my mother had been the only bad thing that had ever happened to me, up to the attack from Grindelwald's men yesterday. My father had been a good man, strict but caring. I've never had to wish for anything, we've never been short on food and there were always more than enough Galleons in our vaults. The work of my father had provided extremely well for his family and though I wasn't spoiled, I knew that I had no idea of the hardship of life.
Pressing the diary of my father to my chest, I kept my eyes on the horizon. Ivan was lost in his own thoughts as well, seemingly undisturbed by our conversation. But I was deeply rattled. There was no chance that I would make it to London through numerous war-stricken countries. And even if I could, what would I do once I arrived there?
One single tear slipped from the corner of my eye and I pressed my lips tightly together, so they wouldn't tremble. Hopelessness was an aching void in my chest and I felt it consume me.
A/N: Leave a review! :)
