Arc III: Part V
April 28th, 1985
After appearing in a narrow, dimly lit alley sandwiched between two ancient houses, Sirius released his grip on Ludvik's arm and silently trailed behind him until they reached the alley's end. From there, they navigated a labyrinth of cobblestone pathways until they arrived at a sprawling square adorned with an elegant structure showcasing the country's architectural finesse.
Ludvik paused for a moment, casting a nostalgic gaze at the building's pyramid-shaped roof, crowned by a tower graced with four clocks. With a subtle gesture, he beckoned Sirius to follow him to a terrace bar, where they settled themselves, facing the magnificent edifice.
A waiter approached, extending a warm greeting and taking note of their order. They sat in silence, observing a group of schoolchildren depart from the vicinity, leaving the square gradually deserted until they remained the sole occupants. The waiter returned, bearing two cups of coffee. Ludvik took a leisurely sip, igniting a cigarette which he smoked in silence before finally breaking his silence to address Sirius for the first time since they had left the camp.
"This is where I was born," Ludvik said, his eyes wandering around the square. "When we were kids, Denise and I used to play here... We used to live nearby. It was before the first Muggle war, back when Romania was still a kingdom. It was a time of recklessness for children our age... Until we saw the army parade just where we're sitting right now. That day, we both understood that everything would change forever."
"Why would you care? It was a Muggle war, and you're not Muggle-born. Wizards worked hard to keep us hidden and safe from the fights," Sirius said.
"Black... In war, the outcome is always disastrous, and everyone is involved in some way. Life in the trenches is dreadful, extremely brutal, often hand-to-hand. By the end of the First World War, the demographic toll hit ten million dead and six million crippled. Then, the Spanish flu followed, claiming another fifty million lives, marking the beginning of Europe's decline after dominating the world in the 19th century. The major empires collapsed, giving rise to new states drowning under the weight of debt. Even the Tsars didn't survive and lost power to the Bolsheviks, who set Europe on fire. And as if that wasn't enough bad decisions, the Treaty of Versailles made Germany fully responsible for the war, only postponing the next one," Ludvik said.
"Why are you telling me this?" Sirius asked.
"The events of the Great War created a context of misery and violence that Grindelwald later used in his anti-Muggle propaganda. You weren't born yet, but Grindelwald didn't declare war on the world overnight... You won't find what I'm about to tell you in any history book, but you'll probably be surprised to learn that Grindelwald's first supporters were Muggles," Balasko said.
"What are you talking about?" Sirius asked, frowning.
"It happened right here, right under our noses... It used to be a theatre," Ludvik replied, pointing his finger at a house with a view of the square. "For months, he made passionate speeches there."
"Why did the Muggles listen to him?" Sirius asked.
"The question you should ask is, 'What was he telling them?'" Ludvik asked.
"What was he telling them?" Sirius asked.
"The country came out of the war weakened, and its people bruised and frustrated. Everybody needed someone to blame. There had to be a reaction, but the government was far too impotent to provide it. In the early 1920s, Grindelwald introduced himself to Europe as a Muggle, a simple man from the people who wanted a rebirth. He advocated for creating a new society with real social cohesion, where the ruling class would lose its social prerogatives and economic dominance, favoring a fair distribution of wealth. Wonderful, isn't it?" Ludvik said.
"Then..." Sirius said.
"Well, the first step had to be 'identifying' the ruling class in question," Ludvik said.
"Wasn't the ruling class the elite and all those who gravitated around the monarchy?" Sirius asked.
"Oh, of course, they were much better off than the rest of the population... However, Gellert Grindelwald was referring to the wizards," Ludvik answered.
"I don't follow you... Wasn't Grindelwald trying to build a world in which wizards dominated over Muggles?" Sirius asked.
"Yes, but Grindelwald wasn't one to rush... His goal was always to bring wizards and witches to his side. With remarkable tact, he managed to reveal our world's existence to his Muggle audience. Then, he made them believe that we were the true masters of the world, pulling the strings from behind the scenes and that the war served our own interests. He portrayed wizards as using Muggles to fight their wars and suffer the consequences alone," Ludvik explained.
"I can imagine what must have happened..." Sirius said.
"It was only a matter of time and countless gallons of alcohol before a family of wizards was lynched to death... Not even the children were spared... The magical community was horrified, and fear quickly gave way to anger, which then turned to hate. That marked the beginning of Grindelwald's era, which lasted a staggering twenty-eight years," Balasko said as he crushed his cigarette in the ashtray. "However, today, at ninety years old, I see things quite differently," Ludvik added.
"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.
"Grindelwald was a wizard of unparalleled talent, second only to Dumbledore, but his greatest power was his ability to observe, ignite crowds, and exploit situations at the perfect moment. He understood better than anyone how to read his time and exploit its flaws. The real one to blame is the demon that resides within us, the one that gnaws at us—our own stupidity. Wizards, Muggles... What affects one will eventually impact the other. Our fates are intertwined, whether we like it or not. When we choose the path of war, all we leave as a legacy for future generations is the ideal conditions for another war to erupt," Ludvik concluded.
Amidst the profound silence, in the deserted expanse that the city had transformed into with the arrival of night, the two men strolled along the avenue, their footsteps creating a rhythmic thump. The echoes reverberated against the slumbering facades of the houses on both sides, as if in sync with the hazy lines of the streetlights. With their heads slightly lowered, they maintained a steady yet unhurried pace, their ascent growing steeper with each step. Suddenly, the sound of an engine broke the silence, and the street was bathed in the headlights of an approaching car.
The vehicle slowly passed by the men, its driver and passenger gazing intently at them before halting a short distance away. Ludvik gestured for Sirius to wait as he approached the car. After a brief conversation, the car drove off, gradually fading into the distance at an intersection.
"Who was that?" Sirius asked Ludvik.
"The police. Nothing to worry about, just a patrol... Look! We've arrived!" Ludvik replied, pointing towards the four-story building's gate.
"Let's go and wrap this up already. The curfew we agreed upon has been in effect for two hours, and the others must already suspect me of killing you," Sirius said.
"Yes, the sooner, the better," Ludvik agreed. He then rapped his knuckles against the iron gate three times, paused briefly, and repeated the action three more times until they heard the lock's squeaky click.
The gate opened partially, revealing someone stealing a quick glance at them before unlatching it and swinging it wide open, welcoming them into a small hallway. It was a young man with dark hair, possibly in his early twenties. He vigorously shook Ludvik's hand with a bright smile.
"Ludo! How are you doing, Grandpa? It's been a while since we've seen you around here!" the young man exclaimed.
"I'm feeling great, thanks. And how about you, Lucy? I'm surprised to see you here! I thought you were in prison," Ludvik remarked.
"Doing good! All charges were dismissed... Apparently, the guy and his family received anonymous death threats, and that made him back off. Can you believe it?" Lucy replied.
"Yes, I believe you. Lucy, this is Sirius. Sirius, meet Lucian," Ludvik introduced.
"A pleasure, Sirius. But don't you dare call me Lucy," Lucian said, shaking hands with Sirius.
"Noted," Sirius acknowledged.
"So, do you think it's going to be enough?" Lucian asked Ludvik, casting a cautious glance at Sirius.
"We'll soon find out... Has everyone arrived?" Ludvik inquired.
"Yes, people started arriving two hours ago. Go ahead... You know the way," Lucian replied, closing the gate.
"Are you coming down later?" Ludvik asked.
"No... I'm not in the mood tonight," Lucian answered.
"Oh... You're not allowed to come down, are you? You've caused too much trouble, and now you're being punished," Ludvik teased, prompting laughter from Lucian.
"Yeah... Could you lend me a cigarette before you go?" Lucian hastily asked.
"Sorry, I've quit smoking... However, I would appreciate it if you returned Sirius his wallet," Ludvik said politely.
"Sure... Sorry," Lucian replied, tossing the wallet that Emma had given him for Christmas back to Sirius. "Anyway, with a bit of luck, I'll get it back from his body later..." he whispered to himself.
They advanced towards the staircase where Ludvik opened the distribution board, unveiling an elusive and slender staircase that surreptitiously descended into the darkness. Navigating each step with meticulous care, they embarked on a cautious descent, their senses heightened as the resonant clamor from the basement steadily intensified, echoing gloomily with each fleeting second.
At long last, their descent culminated in a sprawling basement, utterly metamorphosed into a vibrant bar, suffused with the haze of countless ignited cigars that intermingled with the very breath of the room. A palpable aura of camaraderie and intrigue enveloped the space, as the steady pulse of conversation and clinking glasses resounded throughout. The bar teemed with clusters of men, intimately gathered in groups of six to eight, their rapt attention captivated by card games unfurling across a multitude of tables.
Ludvik nudged Sirius gently, signaling him to follow, as they approached the bar counter. They were warmly greeted by the bartender, who appeared to be a friend of Balasko's. After a brief conversation in Romanian, the bartender poured two drinks for Sirius and Balasko.
"Scottish... It's a shame, but I'd like to make peace after what happened earlier. "Balasko said to Sirius, raising his glass.
"It's already forgotten... Why is it a shame? What is this place?" Sirius inquired, taking a sip of his drink and leaning against the counter as he surveyed the room.
"You ask too many questions instead of enjoying the moment!" Ludvik remarked, giving him a friendly pat on the back.
"Your friend is quite peculiar, Ludo," the barman chimed in, his gaze fixed on Sirius.
"Yes, he is... Sirius is a wizard, Dominic. He isn't very familiar with the muggle world," Balasko explained.
"Well, welcome to our side of the world then. The drinks are on the house," Dominic said to Sirius as he placed a bottle on the counter.
"Thank you... How did you come to know about us?" Sirius asked.
"Yes, I do... I've spent the last fifteen years watching Ludvik get drunk and listening to him talk about his life, and then cleaning up the mess behind him, mostly vomit" Dominic replied.
"And I watched him! We have some good memories, don't we?" Ludvik chimed in, bursting into laughter.
"No… Sirius, you're in a communist country... Importing Western products is strictly forbidden, so we have to smuggle them in, which is even more illegal. Otherwise, our only option would be drinking our homemade whiskey, which tastes just like cat piss," Dominic explained.
"OH! Our dear communism, based on absolute equality, the will of the people, the common good..." Ludvik began.
"Yeah... My ass too," Dominic interjected.
"You're too negative, Dominic! Absolute equality? Aren't we all poor in this country? And as for the will of the people, no one specified that the 'people' referred to Ceaușescu and his friends!" Ludvik exclaimed.
"I suppose it's a matter of perspective... And how is it back home, Sirius? What's it like in the West?" Dominic inquired as he refilled their glasses.
"Fine, at least until everything goes horribly wrong," Sirius replied before taking a sip.
"Hmm... Here, there, nothing is ideal, everything teeters on a knife-edge," Dominic commented, discreetly hiding the bottle under the counter when Livio appeared between Sirius and Balasko.
"Were you talking about me?" Livio questioned, swiping Ludvik's glass from his hand.
"No..." Dominic responded.
"Then why did you stop talking when you saw me approaching?" Livio pressed.
"Quit doing cocaine, Livio. It's making you completely paranoid... Do you want me to get you something?" Dominic offered.
"Why are you speaking to me in English, you asshole? Is it because he's here?" Livio directed his question at Dominic, gesturing his head towards Sirius. "You've only been here for five minutes, and we're expected to give up our language and customs for you, Sirius?"
"You're not even from here, you idiot. He, unlike you, isn't bothering anyone. Now, piss off..." Dominic retorted to Livio, diverting his attention away from Sirius.
"Oh, am I bothering you when I spend my money here? When I keep my mouth shut instead of clearing my record with the cops? And where would you want me to go?" Livio taunted, wearing a smirk on his face.
"How about hell? I can arrange a one-way trip for you right now if you want," Sirius retorted, rising from his seat to confront Livio, who turned to face him.
"I see you haven't lost your balls... Why don't you be nice and lend them to Ludvik? He urgently needs a pair," Livio jibed, nodding in Balasko's direction.
"So, you can lick them? You're the perfect height, after all, " Sirius fired back, sharing a mocking laugh with Dominic.
Then everything unfolded in a whirlwind. Livio's face flushed with anger, and his hand disappeared behind his back, likely reaching for his gun. However, before he could grasp the grip, his head violently collided with the wooden counter, leaving him trapped and grunting in pain. Ludvik swiftly intervened, twisting Livio's arm and keeping him restrained.
A heavy silence descended upon the room. The gamblers halted their games, their attention fixated on the unfolding scene. Some displayed concern, hastily retrieving their money in an attempt to slip away before matters worsened. Meanwhile, others found amusement in the situation, wearing broad smiles and openly mocking Livio.
"I'll never understand why you always reach for your gun, Livio...However, your behavior is deeply intriguing. I've always treated you with respect. Dominic wants to offer you a drink, and Sirius is offering you a trip..." Ludvik calmly addressed Livio.
"I... swear... I..." Livio stammered, struggling in vain.
"Excuse me? I can't hear you. Can you, Dominic?" Ludvik turned to Dominic, who poured himself a drink, visibly amused by the situation.
"I believe it's called 'crying.' It's a common dialect in the land of the pussies up north," Dominic retorted, provoking laughter throughout the room.
"I've never heard of it... Livio, would you kindly sing your national anthem for all of us? I'll give you a hand," Ludvik requested, twisting Livio's arm a little further, eliciting a groan of pain.
"No, that doesn't ring a bell... But that's fine, I have no intention of visiting anyway," Dominic chimed in.
"Well... Livio, apologize," Ludvik instructed, easing the pressure on Livio's arm.
"Fuck you... Just wa..." Livio spat before his screams grew louder as Ludvik yanked his arm back.
"That's not how an apology starts..." Ludvik remarked.
"Sorry, Si...rius..." Livio managed to say amidst his shouts.
"That's enough... Let go of him," Sirius directed Ludvik.
"As you wish... but first..." Ludvik began before forcefully breaking Livio's elbow, causing him to collapse on the floor, screaming in agony. The room erupted with laughter until the laughter subsided when a door at the back of the room swung open, revealing a tall, slim blonde man. He silently surveyed the room before reprimanding them.
"Are you guys having fun, or would you like the army to join us down here?"
"No need to worry, Petru. We're just having some fun," Ludvik reassured.
"Ludvik Balasko... I hope you showed up to pay what you owe us," Petru curtly said.
"That's why I'm here... And I'd like to settle it without delay," Ludvik replied.
"Perfect... You're spare in us the inconvenience to come finding you ourselves. Gentlemen, please follow me... It's time," Petru announced to the room.
As soon as Petru finished speaking, everyone hastened to empty their glasses and gather the money they had won before making their way toward the door, from which Petru had just vanished, creating an atmosphere of excitement among the crowd. Gradually, the room emptied, leaving Ludvik and Sirius alone with Dominic and Livio, who had risen with his broken arm cradled against his chest. Balasko finished his drink, patting Sirius on the arm before they followed the others. However, when Balasko reached the door, he turned back and pointed his wand at Livio, who glared at them and hurled insults.
"Obliviate!" Balasko murmured, and Livio's expression gradually relaxed.
Livio looked at them in confusion. However, just as he was about to speak, Ludvik turned his back on him and, accompanied by Sirius, walked through the door, entering a dark room. Sirius could make out the silhouettes of people moving around, but the darkness made it difficult to discern their faces. Judging from the laughter emanating from all sides, the people present didn't appear to be concerned; on the contrary, the atmosphere was relaxed and amicable. Balasko's hand rested on Sirius's back, and soon Dominic's voice could be heard on his left.
"It was a pleasure meeting you, Sirius. I wish the circumstances could have been more favorable," Dominic said.
"Why would you say that? What's about to happen?" Sirius whispered, before turning to his right to find Ludvik, who smiled at him before suddenly pushing him forward.
Sirius, taken aback, stumbled but managed to regain his balance just in time to avoid a fall. Suddenly, a spotlight mounted on the ceiling switched on, flooding the room with intense light. Sirius squinted, temporarily blinded by the brightness, but could still make out that he was standing in the center of a circle formed by a crowd of men. Some of them smiled and clapped, while others appeared hostile towards him. Then, Petru appeared at Sirius's side and began to speak.
"Good evening, comrades! Tonight, we are about to witness the most highly anticipated match of the summer. It's a special occasion! Two worlds will collide! Honor against Ignominy! Pride against shame!" Petru announced to the enthusiastic audience, which erupted in loud cheers.
"On the right corner, hailing from a distant land... a man who has spent his entire life preying on the weak when victory was certain, a despicable man seeking honor. Will he seize it? Or is he destined to observe it from afar, like the distant stars... knowing that they can only be reached in his darest dreams? Gentlemen, I present to you Sirius Black! THE TRAITOR!" Petru proclaimed, gesturing towards Sirius.
"What the hell?!" Sirius exclaimed, scanning the crowd in search of Ludvik.
"And in the left corner... a man beyond compare. A man who has proven himself countless times, despite not even being twenty. His strength is revered among the greatest fighters from all corners of the world. Those who dared to challenge him couldn't last a single round! Witnesses swear they've seen him slay a bear with his bare hands... ladies and gentlemen, welcome BOGDAN THE MOLDAVIAN BUTCHER!" Petru shouted, stirring the crowd into a frenzy of applause.
A man, towering over Sirius and seemingly twice his size, stepped into the circle. He was so tall that he could probably headbutt someone as tall as Hagrid. He waved to the audience before removing his shirt, revealing a muscular physique that made Sirius appear like a frail and malnourished house-elf in comparison.
"Sirius! Over here!" a voice called out. Sirius turned towards the sound and saw Ludvik and Dominic on his right, setting up a small wooden stool next to a bucket filled with ice. He hurried over to them, his gaze filled with anger directed at Balasko,
"You fucking asshole! Just when I was starting to thrust you! I was even starting to pity you! Look at him! He's going to kill me if I can't use magic!" Sirius exclaimed.
"Neither did all the muggles you and your master have tormented. Anyways, don't worry! I bet you anything that guy isn't even from Moldavia," Ludvik reassured, placing his hands on Sirius's shoulders and roughly massaging them.
"It's not the Moldavian part that scares me! It's the butcher part!" Sirius retorted, angrily.
"It's just a nickname! It doesn't mean anything!" Ludvik insisted.
"Oh yeah? Then why isn't he called the Moldavian nice guy? Or the Moldavian who wouldn't hurt a fly?" Sirius countered.
"Sirius... my friend, you sound like a real pussy right now... Drink!" Dominic interjected, forcefully making Sirius drink from a bottle he retrieved from the ice bucket. Caught off guard, Sirius choked as he tried to swallow the liquid.
"It's Scottish whiskey! From your motherland! I will give you courage!" Dominic declared, raising his fist in a show of support.
"I'm not even Scottish! I'm English!" Sirius hissed, between two coughs.
"England... Scotland... Ireland... It's all the same to us. Come on! It's time!" Ludvik urged, before slapping him violently on the back and pushing him towards the circle, where Bogdan was already warming up, awaiting his opponent.
"Good luck Sirius! Show him what you are made of!", Ludvik said, standing behind Sirius, " BOGDAAAAAAAN! SIRIUS IS GOING TO MAKE YOU HIS BITCH! HE IS GOING TO FUCK-YOU-UP!" Ludvik yelled at Bogdan, giving him the finger before rushing backward to blend in the crowd.