Chapter 26: Bread Crumbs Part 2

"Haaaah hah hah haaaaaaaah." I blew air into my gloves to warm my freezing finger tips as I followed behind Victor Crumb. I then touched them to my cold cheeks. I tried to be disc…I tried to hide it. Flying on a broom, in this weather, was like torture. And the way Victor flew! He was like a bullet on a string with his impressive flying. The birds got out of our way.

When we eventually landed in an old rundown café, he sat me in the far back seat away from any other customers and went to buy me a hot chocolate. It was a challenge. He had pulled my hat as low as was able on my head and wrapped his incredibly large black wool scarf around my own, effectively covering all but my eyes. "You don't need to be seen," he whispered in a tone that left no room for argument. So I would just the bulk of fabric around my eyes to take sips. I was only half finished before he stood and motioned for us to go. From there it was about three Floo's to get to where we needed to get to. Then a bit more flying.

We eventually landed in a dense wood on a dirt path and here we were walking. He stayed always in front of me, like I was being hidden. I suppose I was.

Maybe I did have a body guard.

I briefly wondered what the boys were doing. Were they looking for me? Wondering where I had gotten to? Should I have told them? Would they have tried to stop me? Would they have wanted to come with? As question after question swirled around unanswered, I blew into my hands again. A heavy warmth circled me just then. I looked up to see that Victor had given me his jacket. "Hold still." He buttoned the inner flaps and then fastened the strings to the outer flap buttons. It was so long I would likely trip over it.

"It'll drag," I warned him, though it was muffled through the two scarves. He just gave me a pointed look. "What about you? You'll catch a cold!"

"I won't," he shrugged with those brick shoulders. "Don't fall behind. Your father's home is in the village up ahead."

I quickly piped down and nodded, trotting after him carefully. I rolled up the long sleeves and lifted the front of his jacket that hung and dragged behind me like a royal cape. The black fur tickled my nose. I put all my focus in the swinging of his braid back and forth like an old grandfather clock. Something about it was oddly familiar and comforting. I wanted to bat at it like Cinnabon would a new tassel toy.

When the forest broke, there stood a collection of cottages a yard from the other. In the distance could be see a very large house and a very large gate. "That," Crumb pointed, "is your father's house. People come from all over to take pictures outside of it and try their hand at entering. Until recently the Prime Minister had petitioned to have the property seized.

"Recently?"

We were walking again. The big house up on the hill belonged to my Papa? My real Papa? "The English did not exactly share where they had hidden you. It was widely assumed you were dead. Though some speculation that you lived remained." The way he spoke was with such interest. He talked about my Papa's house like it was haunted…was it? "You see, the staff, they never left. They maintain the house and the grounds and have made sure no one has been able to enter. Because so many tourists come to this small village to watch them work and take photos, it brings the locals money for their Inns and little shops they run out of their homes. Look," he pointed to an old tattered looking banner that hung from two abandoned windmills. It was a moving banner of me standing on platform 9 ½. Seamus was cut-off, but you could see his hand tugging me along. I looked lost. Underneath were words I couldn't understand. "A Smith belongs in the Republic of Bulgaria," Victor read for me. "There was a large parade here. It was understood that, with the destruction of your mother's home during the first Great War, that you would naturally return to your father's home and attend Durmstrang. Needless to say, many were greatly disappointed that this is not the case."

I didn't understand much about the Great War. Just that during this time, someone with barely a name killed my parents. "I'm sorry I don't speak Bulgarian."

"It is okay." We finally reached the tall wrought iron gate. Foreign script that likely read my last name framed the top 15 feet above us. "I can teach you. As your father's biggest fan, it is only my responsibility."

And there it was. Was he just using me to take a peak into my Papa's home? I suppose it's not as bad as a kidnapping er nothin'. He was just like Errol, Nich, or Kal. It'd be best if I didn't tell him about my incident in DADA class. "How do we get inside?"

"I think it may just be blood magic." Victor pulled out his wand and grabbed my hand. "This might hurt a bit." He waved his wand and then dragged it along my palm. I winced but refused to make any other sound. I didn't know why, but I didn't like that this fan of my dad's looked down on me for not being Bulgarian enough.

I already wasn't English enough.

Or witch enough.

Or smart enough.

I made a fist until my palm was well covered in my own blood and gingerly placed it on the gate. It was like the moment I touched it, there was a spark and a gust of air that whipped my hair back. The gate slowly cracked open just enough to fit the two of us. Crumbs wasted no time in squeezing through, though I made sure to follow close behind. I couldn't believe how beautiful it all was. Low cut green grass- had I ever seen greener? I think I could make out a hedge maze off to the right. The large paved walkway led up to the front door. On either side of us were water filled holes very small and very deep. As we walked, koi fish leaped from one hole to the next. They were following us. The face of the house looked to be made with stone blocks with heavy looking dark stained wooden doors. It was like a castle. I hadn't been awed by the largeness of a building since Hogwarts. Of course, this was no Hogwarts but this was all just my Papa's house and not a school and it was much too large for one person. He must have had a huge family.

Standing on the stoop before the door, Victor and I exchanged a look. "It's your house." Made sense. I reached up to knock and before I could make contact with the door, they both swung inward. Victor flinched. My breathe stopped in my chest.

Elves. Over One Hundred them.

"Welcome home, Master."