A/N : I owe nothing, not even Rommel (quite a pity). I promise no character was hurt when I wrote this chapter. I'm not testing laboratory products on them. Know what ? They're a protected species.
December 1943 - Africa, Bir-Hakeim
Tom stiffled a yawn as he edged his way in Rommel's staff car. What the hell he was doing there, he was still wondering.
You volunteered, you idiot !
Well, that may be so, but he was starting to regret it. He had not expected Africa to be so hot. It was a little past five, and it was still night time, but he was already sweating. And Rommel had told him it was cool in the morning !
Maybe it was because he came from England. And it was snowing in England, at that time of the year !
Tom glanced at the man, who was currently finishing to inspect their equipment. He was inhuman, to wear a leather coat in that sultriness. And clad in his uniform. Even his men, or most of them, reverted to shirts and shorts when it was too hot. If he didn't remove his coat, he would die from insolation. Tom almost pitied him. He would not be in his shoes for all the gold of Gringott's.
Hmm, on second thought...
"Is everything all right, Herr Ritter ?" a grim-looking man, clad in a major's uniform, asked him, as Rommel sat in the car.
"Yes, thanks", Tom replied. "We are ready to leave, whenever you feel like it, uncle Erwin."
"Then off we go. See you soon, Merhoff."
The men saluted as Rommel's staff car moved, as Tom drove it slowly out of Bir Hakeim. As he did so, the Feldmarschal remained silent, only speaking to indicate directions. As time went by, the sun rose high in the sky, and Tom started to understand just why Rommel had told him it was cool in the morning. Such sultriness shouldn't even be allowed. What was he talking about ? It shouldn't even exist !
He cast a sidelong glance at Rommel, who seemed quite confortable. The damn man was not even sweating !
There was a trick. Tom just knew it. But he damn sure would not ask. What would he look like, whining like a toddler just because it was a little warmer than what he was used to ?
Rectification ; a lot warmer.
Finally, he grew tired of that silence, and cleared his throat before adressing the german.
"Say, what was all this about, in the Minister's office ?"
The Feldmarschal did not even look at him, eyes steadily narrowed at the road in front of them. If one could call that a road.
"What do you mean ?" he finally queried, absent-mindedly. Tom could tell he was not quite with him at the moment.
"I'm speaking of when the Minister thanked you for, and you answered you were not doing it for him, and he said you had already talked about it."
"Oh. That."
It was a few seconds before Rommel went on, but Tom merely waited, not wanting to make an issue of it.
"I was merely referring to the fact I am not helping the Allied from the naive goodness of my heart. I would not have turned traitor if I did not deem it crucial for the future of Germany. All I am doing now is for my country. Even if some people may not share that opinion."
Tom slowly nodded, fully understandig what he meant. For most people, the fate of Germany and the will of the Führer were one and same thing. Betraying Grindelwald meant betraying Germany. Yet, there was Rommel's dilemma, for following Grindelwald meant bringing Germany on the verge of its very destruction. So, either turn traitor, or sacrifice one's country. Hardly a choice.
"Though my opinion probably matters little to you, I do think you took the right decision", Tom commented.
"I am certainly glad you approve", the Feldmarschal replied, his voice trickling with sarcasm.
The British teen merely shrugged, knowing that Rommel's anger was not directed at him, but rather at the situation he was in. By then, the sun was just above them, and with a groan, Tom stopped the car so as to remove his shirt.
"You do not want to do that", Rommel said off-handedly.
"I don't ?" Tom inquired, his chest already half bare.
"If you remove your shirt, you will not feel much cooler, but you are sure to have a lovely red shade by tonight. The sun can be quite harsh in Libya."
Tom considered it, came to the conclusion Rommel may be right, and groaned in frustration. But he was way too warm to even imagine putting back his shirt.
"Never mind that. It cannot get worse anyway."
"So you believe", Rommel murmured quietly.
Tom shrugged, and threw his shirt in the back of the car. His pale british skin was barely fainter than Rommel's, whose clothes seemed to prevent him from tanning. Well, if he wanted to play masochist, so be it. Not Riddle's business.
Now a little more at ease, he resumed his driving. Rommel cast him an amused look but said nothing. However, the travel was quite boring, and they finally resorted to talking, for lack of anything better to do.
"Why were you picked for this assignment ?" the german asked after a little while.
"Surely because I was stupid enough to volunteer" he snorted.
"So you did volunteer." The Feldmarschal raised an eyebrow at that.
"Oh, well, I had the occasion to be a hero, how could I refuse such an offer ?" Tom said dramatically, rolling his eyes. "No, seriously speaking, it was well paid, and as I speak german, the Minister offered me to do it."
"You are doing this for the money ?" Rommel's surprised was genuine.
"Of course. I was never really one for patriotism. I respect yours, but my country never gave me anything, and I have little wish to put myself in harm's way solely to protect it. Not if I can get something out of it, anyway."
"That is very bitter for someone so young", the german remarked. "Did not your country give you an education ? A place to live ?"
"An education, yes, I will admit that. A place to live ? Hardly. What did your country give you to make you protect it so fiercely ?"
Rommel was quiet for some time before answering.
"I am not fighting for a mere piece of land", he finally said softly. "What I am trying to protect is the people I know and love, the soldiers who trust me to spare as many lives as possible, our lore, our art... everything that make us german and not Italian or French, or even British. I once thought Grindelwald was the one who could give us back our pride after the defeat we suffered, at the end of World War One."
"But he didn't", Tom said carefully.
"No. He took our souls instead. Now that I come to think of it, that was some kind of Faustian deal - except we got nothing but war out of it."
"Tell me about bitter", Tom muttered, getting a brief smile from the german. "Besides, you should not be all that surprised. After all, the Faustian stuff is sort of a german thing, is it not ?"
"I guess you are right", Rommel admitted.
"Thanks to that Goethe fellow."
"You read Goethe ?" The man's surprise was palpable. "Even though he was a squib living among muggles ?"
Tom shrugged non-comittaly.
"I felt I had to read before criticizing efficiently and using the book to prove how living among muggles distorted Goethe's sanity", he said stiltedly.
Rommel chuckled.
"I was wondering about that wizard, Dumbledore. You certainly do not seem too fond of him."
Am I that easy to read ? Tom had to wonder, for he had tried to hide the dislike he felt towards the man who had brought him for the first time at Hogwarts. Yet, the Feldmarschal had seen through his in a matter of days.
"Well, he was a teacher of mine", Tom said lightly so as to alleviate the atmosphere. "You know what it's like. I still resent him for that detention he gave me last year."
"Is that so ?" Rommel murmured thoughtfully.
"Does it matter ?" Tom replied, shifting uncomfortably on his seat.
"I suppose not", the german answered with a twitch of his lips. "As long as you do not kill him on sight or turn him in to my forces."
"As you could easily have him released, I hardly see the point. It would endanger us both, for little results", Tom pinpointed.
"So you would do it if you could."
"What are you getting at, anyway ?" the British teen groaned, annoyed at his not-yet-a-friend-but-not-a-foe-either.
"Nothing at all", the german replied innocently. "Tired of driving ?"
"As a matter of fact, yes."
"Stop the car, then, and let's switch seats."
A moment later, Rommel was driving, while Tom stretched in his seat with delight. He had not realised how tense he was before he had stopped the car, but remaining still in the driver's seat, focused on the road, was tiring. And dirty, too. The sand just went everywhere. Tom knew he had some of it in his clothes, and probably underwear too. Of course, he wouldn't say a thing ; that was just too damn ridiculous. Besides, Rommel did not seem to be bothered by the sand in any fashion. But now, the man was special. Tom only wished he knew how the german did it.
As they went, Rommel kept an eye on the compass, and they were still heading west. After half an hour or so, the german stopped the car and took a map from under the seat. Then, he started to mutter numbers under his breath, and after a few minutes, he made a red dot on the paper.
"Here we are", he said. "They should be somewhere in this area. The problem is, they will be hiding."
"The problem, I'd rather say, is your uniform", Tom said. "What are they going to do if they see a german-looking man in a german uniform driving a german car ?"
"Oh, well, that is not really much of a problem."
Rommel took his wand out of its sheath, which was tied on his forearm. Tom peered at the wooden stick ; it was a beautiful piece of work, carefully crafted, and obviously lovingly taken care of.
"Is that ebony ?" he asked.
The Feldmarschal raised an eyebrow in surprise, but showed him the wand so he could examine it more closely.
"It is. Twelve inches long. You seem to be knowledgeable about wands."
"Not all that much, but I took a personal interest in it a few years earlier, and studied the specificities of the different woods used in wand-making. If I remember well what I learned then, I would say ebony makes excellent wands for duels, protective spells and dark arts, is quite good for charms and transfiguration, but is just terrible for healing and not so good for some minor stuff."
"That is... quite accurate", Rommel said, not seeming to like much having someone know everything about the strength and weaknesses of his wand.
"If I may ask, what is inside ?" Tom pushed nonetheless.
"Griffin feather", the german said reluctantly.
"Quite an impressive combination", Tom admitted. "Though it would make a wand slightly more rough than with more... prevalent components."
"What about your wand ?" the Feldmarschal retorted irritably.
"If you must know, yew and Phoenix feather."
Rommel shook his head irritably, and turned it towards himself, before muttering a few words Tom did not quite hear. His outfit did not seem to change at all, though. The same trick was used with the car, which did not seem to change either, still hoisting german flags.
"What did you do ? It did not change anything", Tom said, after observing mutely the german's work.
"You see nothing different. That is because you expect to see me in a german uniform."
Tom blinked a few times in surprise.
"What do you mean ?"
"If we encounter british, they will see me in a british army major's uniform. If we encounter other allied soldiers, they will see the same thing. But if we meet germans, they will not be affected by the spell, and see my real uniform."
"That comes in handy", Tom said gleefully. "I take it that works the same way for the car ?"
"Quite correct. But you need not change your clothes, as you look like a civillian."
"What about your accent ?"
"Yes, what about my accent ?" Rommel asked patiently.
"You speak english well enough, but you will never pass as a native."
"No worry. I have a lie at the ready if the question is asked. And you will do most of the talking in need be. If they react badly, I will Obliviate them, and keep silent. Now, let us find these british soldiers."
"And just how do you intend to do that ?" Tom enquired with curiosity. He had seen that Rommel had more than a few things up his sleeve.
"Are we wizards or not ?" the german retorted with a deridingly smile.
Once again, he took his wand, and performed some kind of spell. A red arrow appeared above the wand, started to spin round, then stopped, indicating the north.
"And there we go", the Feldmarschal said contently. Now we just have to follow the arrow."
"If I may, sir..."
"What, such coldness", Rommel said ironically. "Am I not anymore your dear uncle Erwin ?"
"Uncle it is, then. How did you pull out that last trick ?"
"Easy enough. I adjusted the arrow to point towards the strongest source of magic nearby, barring us."
"We could run into someone who is not Dumbledore."
"Sure thing. But there are always odds in war. Besides, with that bit of camouflage, the hazard is limited."
"Do you always have an answer to everything ?" Tom finally asked irritably.
"Do you always have a question for everything ?" the german smirked. "Come now, my nephew. We've got a stray wizard to find."
"I sure would not be too sad if we don't manage", Tom groaned.
But he followed the Feldmarschal back in the car.