A/N : They don't belong to me, which is probably why I can't seem to control them. Everytime they come out with crazy ideas and all I can do is come along. Oh, well. Either I'll tame them, or they'll tame me...
December 1943, Libya, somewhere in the desert
It was very dark inside the tent, and at first neither Rommel nor Riddle saw anything but the shadow of a man. Behind them, Matthews had entered as well, with three of his men. They really weren't taking any chances, Rommel thought, annoyed. And they kept aiming at him in a way he definitely disliked.
The man - presumably the captain, whose name would be Albus Dumbledore if he and Riddle got lucky - turned to face them, and stared at them for a few seconds.
"My, my, I certainly did not expected to meet one Tom Riddle here", the man finally said cheerfully. "A most pleasant surprise indeed."
So, that was the man Cornwall had been so enthusiastic about. And, obviously, he did recognize Riddle, so he probably could be more or less trusted. After all, the British had no interest in double-crossing him, since he was on their side - or rather, they had a common ennemy.
Dumbledore did not even sound really surprised, much to Rommel's annoyance. Yet the man could not have been expecting them. But of course, the Feldmarschal was in no position to ask. Hopefully, though, Dumbledore would set things straight with his men, and everything would work out eventually.
Oh, well, at least we did find him. Now comes the "easy" part. Duh !
Chasing these thoughts, which did not resemble him anyway, Rommel brought back his attention to their "host". Now, he was accustomed to the darkness, and was able to make out the man's features. He was tall, with brown hair and the hint of a beard - probably did not have a lot of water to waste for a shave, lately - and his steely blue eyes were twinkling madly behing his glasses.
Well, Cornwall had been right at least about one thing. In spite of his uniform, the captain certainly did not look military. And even less so when he had that beaming smile of his, for now directed towards Riddle. Poor boy.
"That is quite alright, sergeant", Dumbledore added after a few seconds. "I know these men, and they are no danger to us."
The muggle soldier looked as though he would have like to argue, but he was clever enough to keep his mouth shut and to understand the dismissal discreetly hinted by the wizard captain.
"Are you certain you don't want me to let a guard... just in case ?" Matthews finally insisted, without much hope.
"Absolutely certain", Dumbledore answered firmly.
And Matthews had no other choice than to leave the tent, although he did take the time to cast a glare at Riddle - who did not even notice it.
Soon enough, there was only the three of them remaining in the tent ; Dumbledore, Riddle and Rommel. The older wizard cast his two former prisonners an amused glance.
"So, I believe that is the time for some explanations", he said casually. "I take it it's not by chance you happened to appear out of nowhere, Tom, my dear boy ?"
"That's right", Riddle admitted.
"But maybe before getting to that you would care to introduce your friend to me ?" Dumbledore added, as if on second thought. "And also maybe explain to me why you are with a man who wears a german uniform."
Now, his voice had steely edges, as he observed the Feldmarschall. Rommel remembered with relief that his rank insignias were hidden under his leather coat. If this Dumbledore fellow had seen them, he might have taken more... radical measures than to merely ask Riddle about it.
"I am here, you know", the german said in annoyance. He did not like being ignored.
"Of course", the elderly wizard said at once. "Please accept my apologies. I certainly did not mean to be rude. My name is Albus Dumbledore."
"Yes, I know that", Rommel said, biting back his temper. "I am Erwan Romester", he added, using the false name he had invented less that an hour ago. "I was sent to rescue you by your minister for magic, Lazarus Cornwall. Riddle here can testify that."
"What about the uniform ?" Dumbledore insisted, much to the blond german's irritation.
"What do you usually wear when going in a german-controlled country ? Besides, if you feel curious, I strongly suggest you ask questions to your minister, not to me. By the way, how did you see through the spell ?"
Dumbledore smiled in an infuriating way.
"I just know how to use my eyes", he said with a mysterious smile that Rommel was quite sure he had practiced in front of a mirror. "Tom ?"
"He tells the truth. We are here to help you", Riddle said, bearing it out.
"Is that so", Dumbledore said, not seeming all that convinced.
"Oh, please", the Feldmarschall groaned. "If we had wanted to capture or kill you, believe me, we would have come with much more manpower."
Either Dumbledore did not really care, either he was powerful enough to let the matter skip out. Rommel was prone to believing the second option. Be that as it may, the elderly wizard suddenly shifted to an openly friendly smile. Obviously, he had decided to accept what they had told him. For the moment, at least.
"Well, I certainly appreciate the assistance. But I don't really see how you could help. I have a hundred men here, and taking them through the german lines will not be an easy task", he said cheerfully, as if discussing the weather.
Or maybe not. The weather in Africa was not a subject one could be cheerful talking about.
"Do you happen to have a map ?" Rommel asked.
"Of course. Here is is", Dumbledore said as he pulled the object from his coat, which was laying on the campbed. "I am afraid I don't have a table to go with it, though."
"No matter", the german replied absent-mindedly, as he waved his wand that Dumbledore had not bothered laying hold of. The man really was overconfident, Rommel decided as the map unwinded itself, hanging in the air with docility.
"Lumos", the german muttered before studying the thick piece of paper.
Dumbledore and the British teen observed the map with him.
"We are around here, if I'm not mistaken ?" the Feldmarschal said, pinponting an isolated place in Libya.
"Quite. Right here, actually", Dumbledore said, showing him a red dot he had obviously made himself.
"Uh uh", Rommel muttered, as he kept studying the map.
After ten minute or so, he shared a look with the two other wizards.
"I trust you have been trying to find a way to get out of Libya as well", he said to Dumbledore. His tone clearly implied a question.
"Of course. I have come to the conclusion there are only two ways to bring my men safely back to England."
"With either a plane or a submarine", Rommel nodded. "In both case, we would need the cooperation of the Allies."
"Don't you forget the third solution", Riddle said off-handedly.
Both other men narrowed their eyes at him, but while Rommel looked mainly curious, Dumbledore remained wary, if not slightly hostile. Yet, when he answered his tone was most courteous.
"And what solution would that be ?" he asked politely though almost reluctantly.
"Turn your men in to the germans, and Disapparate to another Allied country. That way, you are safe back, and your men will not have anything to fear in a prisonner of war camp. They will just have to sit out the remaining of the war, which is not such a harsh fate, as far as I am concerned", Riddle said with a sweet smile.
Well, the boy certainly did have a way to present it and make it almost sound right. He should be introduced to Goebbels, Rommel thought darkly. They had the same ways to manipulate one's mind.
Dumbledore, on the other hand, looked at Riddle in dismay - whether it was an act or sincere, Rommel couldn't tell.
"Tom, my dear boy, I do hope you realise how horribly wrong is what you just suggested. I could not do that to my own men."
"That would be saving their lives", the boy replied politely. And one had to admit he was only slightly distorting the truth. But that was still a distortion.
"Not quite", Dumbledore retorted sternly. "I told them I would get them safely back to England, and I fully intend to do so."
"As you wish", the teen replied with a shrug. "I merely felt we had to consider each and every possibility."
The elderly wizard sighed with frustration. He never got anywhere whenever Riddle was concerned. The boy just defended his opinions as if his life depended on it - even when he was wrong. That would do him no good, and that would mean no good to the world either, if Dumbledore was right. He certainly hoped he was. And now, there was the problem of that Romester, whatever his real name was - for Albus was quite certain it was anything but Erwan Romester. And his vague explanation for wearing german clothes did not sound right either. After all, Riddle was clad as a civilian.
Yet, he could sense no deceit in that Romester fellow, other than his name and uniform. He seemed to be really here to help. Maybe... But Dumbledore shall still be careful around the man, even if he did not quite show his wariness.
Unaware of these thoughts, Rommel kept thinking about the interesting tactical problem he was confronted with. Eyes half closed so as to better concentrate, he considered the field, mentally adding the presence of his men to the equation. He had himself placed them where they were, with the help of his staff, and he knew the maps by heart. His unfailing memory and the countless hours he had spent on his maps gave him all the elements he needed to think their way out. Now, if only...
"Getting a plane to land here is out of the question", he finally said.
Both Dumbledore and Riddle nodded at that.
"It would be too hazardous to have one come here and go back, not to say, not very discreet. That leaves one way out..."
He shared a look with Dumbledore, then smirked.
"I hope you don't get seasick, captain", he said without hiding an amused smile.