Arc III: Part VI
May 1st, 1985:
Sirius could faintly hear murmurs echoing in the distance, his vision blurred and his memory hazy as to how he had arrived in his current state. All he was certain of was the searing pain coursing through every inch of his body as if he had endured the trampling force of a wrathful herd of elephants, pursued relentlessly by furious hippos and rhinos. With a blink of his eyes, he managed to make out the silhouette of a person leaning over him.
« Stalin's balls! He looks like a Picasso painting…Take it easy, Sirius. I'm going to call the others." Said a young man who promptly disappeared.
Sirius made an attempt to rise, yet his body staunchly defied his will, compelling him to surrender and shut his eyes once more. A few moments elapsed before the door swung open, and the young man reentered the room, accompanied by two older individuals. Of the trio, the elder figure appeared the most visibly relieved, leaning in closer to Sirius.
"You scared the living daylights out of me, Sirius! I was beginning to think you'd never regain consciousness," he exclaimed with a mix of relief and concern.
"Ludvik? Is that you?" Sirius struggled to breathe and speak simultaneously.
"Yes, it's me... Ludvik," confirmed Ludvik, his voice gentle.
"What happened? Where am I?" Sirius inquired; his words laborious amidst the struggle for breath.
"We're at Dominic's house. What's the last thing you remember?" Ludvik asked in a kind tone.
Despite the pounding headache, Sirius managed to retrieve fragments of his memory. "I recall stairs, billowing smoke, a searing sensation in my throat... Then there were blinding lights and even a rhinoceros... Could it have been real?"
"Good, good... Wait, let me help you," Ludvik said, offering support as he helped Sirius straighten up, arranging pillows behind his back.
"What exactly happened?" Sirius asked. "It would be easier if you told me everything; thinking only worsens my headache."
Ludvik hesitated momentarily, exchanging a meaningful glance with Dominic, who sported an uncontainable grin. Retrieving his wand, Ludvik pressed its tip against his temple, extracting a luminous thread which he carefully transferred to Sirius' forehead. Gradually, Sirius' fragmented memories began to reassemble themselves.
"You... you old son of a bitch... despicable crook! I could have been killed!" Sirius muttered softly; his gaze fixed ahead.
"Yes... no, we had an agreement, remember?... Nevertheless, there was indeed a brawl," Ludvik responded.
"Brawl would be an understatement," Dominic interjected.
"And you certainly didn't fuck him up," Ludvik added, directing his words to Sirius.
"That's why I feel like crap... my entire body aches," Sirius confessed.
"Yes, most of your injuries stem from that fight," Ludvik affirmed.
"It was brutal to watch... When Bogdan landed that vicious uppercut to your stomach, his fist lifted you off the ground... Then, when he seized your head and smashed you against the pavement, I truly feared it was the end for you," Dominic recounted, his voice filled with a mix of concern and awe.
"Bogdan took you down in less than twenty seconds, yet here you are, miraculously alive! I bet you'd survive while everyone else bet you'd perish, settling all my debts," Ludvik exclaimed, visibly delighted.
"You miserable old bastard... What happened afterward?" Sirius inquired, his temples throbbing as he massaged them gently.
"I saw Ludo and Dominic carrying you up from the basement, passed out... I quickly found a mop, and they carefully placed you in the back before I brought you here," Lucian, the young man whom Sirius recognized, chimed in with a smile.
"Fuck... If it was all over so fast, why do I feel so wrecked?" Sirius groaned.
"I'm sorry, Sirius, it's entirely my fault. I accidentally dropped you off the bike... However, as soon as I realized you weren't behind me, I immediately turned back to find you. I even chased away a dog who was pissing on you," Lucian confessed.
"After collecting the money, Dominic and I decided to celebrate with a few drinks. Regrettably, while carrying you upstairs... I may have accidentally dropped you down the stairs a couple of times. I sincerely apologize," Ludvik confessed, his remorse evident.
"Why didn't we head straight home? Belby could have patched me up in no time..." Sirius questioned.
"It's rather embarrassing... You see, Sirius, when I get too drunk, I completely forget being a wizard. Besides, you were in no condition to apparate; it likely would have been fatal," Balasko admitted, his tone filled with remorse.
"Ludvik... I swear, as soon as I can use my hands again, I'll batter you to death," Sirius whispered through clenched teeth.
"By the way, you slept for two days... But don't worry, I sent word to let them know we're gone to Cluj to investigate Florin's life and speak with his family and friends. A clever excuse, you know... Anyway, I made some Wiggenweld to speed up your healing," Ludvik explained, handing Sirius a plastic bottle.
"Two days..." Sirius murmured before swallowing the green liquid contained within the bottle. Within seconds, the pain in his muscles subsided, and his migraine faded away.
"And as promised..." Ludvik declared, pointing his wand at the retraining device around Sirius' wrist and removing it.
Sirius massaged his wrist, relieved to no longer feel the constriction of the metal against his skin. He stretched on the bed, then leaped out of it, astonishing Dominic and Lucian as he transformed before their eyes into Padfoot, and just as swiftly reverted back to his human form.
"It feels amazing!" Sirius exclaimed, his hand kneading his neck in delight.
"What the hell was that?" Lucian blurted out, his gaze darting between the three men, his eyes widened in disbelief.
"Lucian is unaware of our world, Sirius," Ludvik explained, a smile playing on his lips.
"I'm sorry... Lucian, the truth is, magic and wizards do exist, but we must keep it a secret. I wish I could divulge more details, but we're pressed for time," Sirius responded, his tone filled with a mixture of apology and urgency.
"Yes... We ought to return home before Denise grows suspicious," Ludvik interjected, as Sirius swiftly donned the shirt handed to him by Dominic.
Once outside, basking in the warmth of the sun, Sirius and Ludvik strolled along the avenue until they were safely out of sight, preparing to apparate. However, Sirius halted Ludvik in his tracks, blocking his path.
"Last night... Why did you break Livio's arm? Especially after lecturing me about fairness?" Sirius inquired, his voice laced with curiosity and a hint of reproach.
"Well... if you think about it, it was fair to me. After all, he had a gun, and I chose not to employ my wand or magic. Perhaps it was the alcohol clouding my judgment, but I recalled the person I used to be forty years ago—a man who would never allow anyone to disrespect him. I suppose I missed that version of myself. Or maybe I had simply grown weary of his antics..." Ludvik explained, his tone tinged with reflection.
"I understand... How about this?" Sirius prompted, revealing his bare wrist.
"A deal is a deal, right?" Ludvik replied, offering a nonchalant shrug.
"Enough with the nonsense... I've seen enough to know that nothing comes without a price. What's on your mind?" Sirius pressed, his gaze steady and unwavering.
"If you wish to delve into someone's thoughts, become a legilimens. Until then, I'm afraid you have no choice but to accept it as a gesture of goodwill, in the hopes that you will reciprocate the same," Ludvik responded before disappearing into thin air, leaving Sirius pondering his words.
Upon their return to the Balasko's residence, Sirius and Ludvik were greeted in the front garden by Denise, followed closely by Red and Joan. Ludvik warmly embraced his sister before turning his attention to Red, who wasted no time in bombarding him with questions about their two-day absence.
"So? How did things go in Cluj? Did you make any progress?" Red inquired eagerly.
Simultaneously, Joan's gaze landed on the bruises adorning Sirius' face, prompting him to ask. "What happened to your face?"
Ludvik began to respond, but Sirius interjected, "Actually, Ludvik and I... never made it to Cluj. The truth is, Ludvik owned a considerable debt with some local criminals and deceived me into participating in an illegal boxing match. I nearly lost my life in his schemes. I spent the last two days in a coma. So, I'm afraid there isn't much I can share."
"Sirius, you little shit..." Ludvik muttered under his breath, while his sister shot him a dark glare, her fists clenched tightly.
"I apologize, Ludvik, but was lying part of our agreement? I distinctly recall agreeing to assist you in exchange for the removal of the Admonitor," Sirius asserted, his voice firm. He then made his way toward the front door of the house, a faint smile playing on his lips as he heard Denise land a punch on Ludvik before embarking on a spirited chase around the garden.
Sirius entered the house and made his way directly to the kitchen. As he approached the door, he overheard Belby and Worple whispering, "They're back! He's inside! Act natural!" He shook his head in response, then pushed the door open and joined them around the table. They gazed at him in silence as he buttered a slice of toast, deliberately ensuring that his naked wrist was clearly visible.
"Why do I have the feeling that I'm being watched?" Sirius mused to himself, furrowing his brow.
Belby couldn't help but inquire, "How did you acquire all those bruises?"
"I got roughed up by a giant," Sirius replied nonchalantly, taking a bite of his toast.
"We were getting worried," Worple chimed in.
"You thought I killed Ludvik and vanished?" Sirius asked, chewing his food audibly.
"Did it really take you two whole days to visit Florin's family and friends? Did you uncover anything of importance at least?" Worple probed.
"Apparently, we never even made it there... It was merely an excuse concocted by Ludvik to reconnect with his old pals," Red interjected, settling down alongside them.
"Well, I had a hunch they wouldn't go after a vampire without giving me a heads-up or including me," Worple remarked, stirring the sugar in his coffee.
"Why would they? To be a weight on their shoulders?" Belby questioned.
"Didn't you mention something about stirring up troll crap in a cauldron?" Worple retorted.
"Guys, Denise is already beating up Ludvik in the garden. We don't need another brawl in here," Red interjected, sounding exasperated. He reached out to the radio and turned up the volume. "Let's listen to the radio instead."
Belby nodded and walked over to the window that overlooked the garden. He shouted, "Ludvik! Would you kindly suffer in silence? We're trying to listen to the program!"
"Haven't we all agreed to stop subjecting ourselves to this nonsense?" Sirius asked, but Worple quickly hushed him.
"...I would like to introduce our guest this morning, Dr. Lora Taylor, a psychoanalyst specializing in dream analysis and interpretation. In other words, she can help us make sense of the dreams we experience during our sleep. Am I correct, Doctor?" Elliot asked.
"Yes, just one small correction if I may. My name is Lora, not Laura," the guest replied.
"My apologies, Dr. Taylor. Does anyone else in the studio have any knowledge of dream interpretation? Perhaps Alex?" Elliot inquired.
"No, I know absolutely nothing about it! But I'm very interested in the topic," Alex responded.
"Excellent! So, let's dive right in! And this time, let's start with me instead of bringing in the audience first," Elliot requested eagerly.
"Of course, Elliot," Dr. Taylor agreed.
"Thank you. Alright, I keep having this recurring dream. I'm at home, but it doesn't resemble my actual home. At one point, I come across a door that I've never seen before. I open it and discover a large, well-furnished room with comfortable sofas and a fireplace, and I think to myself that it's nice and that I should visit more often. Then, I woke up. What could this mean?" Elliot asked.
"Interesting. So, the house in your dream is a metaphor for yourself. Therefore, if we relate it to you, it could signify... What untapped space or potential lies within you? In other words, what aspects of yourself are yet to be explored?" Dr. Taylor suggested.
"Hmm, I see... Unexplored potential," Elliot pondered.
"Exactly, or unfinished projects... Opening the door in your dream could be your subconscious way of saying, 'Here it is, let's go!'" Dr. Taylor explained.
"That's very intriguing... On a related note, what are your thoughts on precognitive dreams?" Elliot inquired.
"There is no such thing as precognitive dreams. Dreams allow us to analyze the present. They are influenced solely by our emotional state at the time," Dr. Taylor stated.
"However, I heard something interesting. It seems that all the characters that appear in our dreams are actually representations of ourselves. So, if I dream that I'm in the living room with my family and friends, in reality, I am all the people present. Is that correct?" Elliot asked.
"Exactly, everything originates from the dreamer. You're quoting Freud without even realizing it, Elliot," Dr. Taylor remarked.
"Really? Isn't that fascinating?" Alex chimed in with curiosity.
"No, quite the opposite! It actually makes sense! After all, no one would show up in your dream just to have a chat with you, Alex!" Elliot replied.
"So, you're saying that all the other characters in our dreams are created by ourselves?" Alex questioned.
"Exactly! Going back to Elliot's example, the house represents himself or, more precisely, his mind, and the door he opens leads to his subconscious," Lora explained.
"And what about dreams where you find yourself driving a truck, for example?" Alex further inquired.
"It could mean that, at the moment, you feel powerful and unstoppable," Lora responded.
"Not to be crude, but what about sexual dreams?" Elliot interjected.
"Not at all rude! Thank you for asking that question. When it comes to interpreting sexual dreams, you have to be cautious. They could be a sign of sexual withdrawal or frustration within your subconscious," Lora explained.
"On the other hand, what bothers me is that I always wake up right before the best part," Elliot confessed.
"Actually, what you remember is only a small fragment of the entire dream. For instance, you recall waking up just after opening the door and discovering a large, comfortable room. However, between that moment and when you opened your eyes, several hours may have passed. Perhaps you spent some time in the room, or maybe you even dreamt of being on a tropical island beach, and so on. You only remember opening the door, but your dream was likely much more intricately scripted, even if you don't recall the details," Lora clarified.
"Wow! Alright, without further ado, let's proceed to our first call!" exclaimed Elliot eagerly. Shortly after, a teenager joined the conversation.
"Hello, Elliot! Hello, Doctor! Greetings to the entire team!" the teenager greeted enthusiastically.
"Hey there, buddy! What's your name?" Elliot inquired.
"I'm Liam Finnigan! I'm seventeen years old, and I'm calling from Dublin," Liam replied.
"Great city! We send our greetings to all our friends in Ireland! You mentioned to our producer that you have something interesting to share with Dr. Taylor, right?" Elliot asked.
"Yes, I'm calling on behalf of my little cousin, Seamus. He's only five years old but he frequently has peculiar dreams," Liam explained.
"Really? Could you please share more details?" Elliot inquired.
"Yes, of course. Would you mind if I let him speak on the phone? It would be easier for him," Liam suggested.
"Yeah, sure! Hand him the phone!" Elliot agreed.
After a brief moment, a small but confident voice came through. "Hello! I'm Seamus! Thank you for taking my call!" Little Seamus greeted.
"You're welcome, Seamus! I assume you're already on vacation, right? Are you enjoying your time?" Elliot asked.
"Yes, it's fantastic! There are beautiful girls everywhere, and they think I'm adorable because I'm small," Seamus replied.
"That's great to hear! Go ahead and tell us more about your dream. The doctor is here listening," Elliot encouraged.
"Alright... In the beginning, I find myself flying in the sky, riding on the back of an owl!" Seamus shared.
"An owl?" Elliot questioned.
"When an owl appears in a dream, it symbolizes wisdom, intuition, magic, and expanded consciousness. Have you recently discovered something about yourself, Seamus? A secret, perhaps?" Lora inquired.
"Uh... Yes, but I can't reveal the secret. Otherwise, it wouldn't be a secret anymore," Seamus explained.
"Of course! That's understandable. Please continue," Lora encouraged.
"I soar over mountains and forests on the owl's back, just like when I go camping with my dad. Then, the owl drops me off in front of a massive castle!" Seamus continued.
"That's truly fascinating, Seamus! Dreaming about a castle can indicate an ambitious mind, which is not very common among children your age, you know?" Lora remarked.
"Wow, does that mean I'm special?" Seamus asked.
"Of course, you're special, Seamus! Everyone is!" Lora reassured.
"That's fantastic!" Seamus exclaimed.
"What happens next, Seamus? Do you remember?" Elliot inquired.
"Yes, something very strange!" Seamus exclaimed.
"What was it?" Elliot inquired.
"Something grabbed me by the ankle. I fought back, but I couldn't free myself," Seamus explained.
"Did it turn into a nightmare? You don't have to share all the details if you're not comfortable. If you'd rather stop here, it's completely fine," Elliot assured him.
"No! I have to say it. I want you to know!" Seamus insisted.
"You're a brave kid! What happened next?" Elliot asked.
"I started struggling to breathe until I couldn't. It was wet; then AN EXPLOSION!" Seamus revealed.
"An explosion? What explosion?", Elliot asked.
After a few seconds, the reply came in the form of a loud fart, followed by two bursts of laughter on the other end of the telephone.
"I can't believe they've fallen into his trap again," Belby remarked, switching off the radio.
"At least the kid from the other day has been avenged. How often do these pranks happen?" Sirius inquired.
"This is the third time, and the only reason we bother listening to the show every morning," Worple responded.
"We can't say for sure if it's the same kid... But apparently, wizard kids have started hating this Elliot. Yesterday, it was a Fred, and the day before, another kid," Joan explained.
"I'm pretty sure they had the same voice," Red added.
"Children can be ruthless," Sirius commented, stretching his arms above his head.
"What do you have there?" Belby asked, pointing to Sirius' forearm.
Sirius examined his forearm and noticed a large rash spreading from his wrist to his elbow. He ran his finger over it, wincing in discomfort. "I don't know, I thought it was just a scratch from the fight, but now that I think about it... It was already there two days ago," he explained.
Belby put on his glasses, leaving his chair to approach Sirius and examine his arm. "Empty your pockets!" he commanded.
Sirius stood up and turned out his pockets, showing that they were empty, except for the small purple flower he had saved from their patrol the other day. It rolled onto the floor under the table.
"Isn't that the flower you slipped on the other day?" Red asked Sirius.
"When you nearly broke your back, remember?" Joan added.
Belby grabbed a fork from the table, bending down to pick up the flower while making sure to keep it away from his face. He then stated, "Here is the explanation."
"What is it?" Sirius inquired.
"Aconite... It's a highly toxic plant, even though it's often used as an analgesic. Don't worry, I'll prepare an ointment for your arm, and it will be gone by tomorrow," Belby assured him. He saved the aconite in a small plastic bag before leaving the kitchen.
"I suggest you get back to bed, Black. There's nothing scheduled for today," Worple advised, carrying the radio with him as he left the kitchen.
Sirius regarded them suspiciously before turning to Red. "Don't you think they're all of a sudden being friendly to me?"
Red shrugged and continued eating, while Sirius let out a loud yawn before making his way upstairs. As he climbed the stairs slowly, the front door opened, and Ludvik finally entered, looking tired and massaging his head. Denise followed him, sneering at her brother.
Sirius spent the rest of the day sleeping and could have continued until the following day if his arm hadn't been burning with pain. He threw off his blanket, sat on his bed, and examined his reddened arm. After getting dressed, he headed downstairs in search of Belby. However, before reaching the living room, he paused and hid behind the wall, eavesdropping on a heated argument between Worple and Joan.
"You saw his wrist! What's stopping him from leaving now?" Joan exclaimed.
"Ludvik must have a good reason to trust him... Listen, each one of us had a specific role in this, and Sirius is Ludvik's part. Don't interfere!" Worple responded.
"And you're okay with it?" Joan challenged.
"Feel free to take your concerns directly to him," Worple retorted.
Sirius waited to see if their conversation would continue, but it seemed Joan had given up. He stepped forward and knocked on the wooden door, startling Worple and Joan.
"Have you seen Damocles? He was supposed to prepare an ointment for my arm," Sirius asked.
"You'll find him in his basement. That's where he set up his laboratory after you left the cellar," Worple informed him, folding his newspaper.
"Now that you mention it, he's been down there since morning... He even missed lunch," Joan added.
"Thank you," Sirius replied.
"You're welcome, Sirius," Worple said.
Sirius gestured farewell to Worple and Joan, leaving them behind as he made his way toward the basement door. He could feel their gazes fixed upon his back as he opened the door. As he descended the stairs, he was taken aback by the considerable changes that had occurred in the basement. The narrow corridor and cell had disappeared, replaced by a square room adorned with towering shelves along the walls. At a nearby table, Belby sat engrossed in taking notes, surrounded by an assortment of glass instruments emitting soft hissing sounds.
Sirius cleared his throat, capturing Belby's attention. The potion master turned towards him, pointing his quill at an aluminum tube resting on a shelf to Sirius's right. Sirius picked it up, removed the cap, and took a sniff.
"What is this?" Sirius inquired.
"It's a trolamine emulsion... Apply it generously to your forearm," Belby responded, handing him a vial. "And drink this. It's an antidote."
"Thank you," Sirius expressed his gratitude before consuming the antidote and settling onto a stool near the table. He proceeded to apply the ointment to his arm, casting curious glances at the array of instruments. He then asked, "What is all of this? I don't recall using any of these during my time at Hogwarts, even though I passed my Potion NEWTs."
"I would be surprised if Horace included Muggle science in his curriculum, let alone if the Ministry of Magic or St. Mungo's demanded it," Belby replied.
"So, this is Muggle medicine?" Sirius sought clarification.
"The ointment is, but not the antidote," Belby clarified.
"In that case, where did you learn about it, and why?" Sirius further inquired.
"I've always been fascinated by Muggle science since my school days. The way they can treat severe conditions without magical assistance is intriguing. Not to undermine our magical practices, but I must admit that magic makes things much easier for us," Belby explained.
"I understand what you mean. I'd prefer riding bikes over brooms or using portkeys," Sirius remarked, placing the ointment on the table. "So, where did you learn all of this?"
"After Hogwarts, I pretended to be a Muggle and studied chemistry, eventually earning a D. Pharm degree from a Muggle university. My brother still teases me about it to this day. After graduating, I began applying my newfound knowledge to potion making, looking at the field from a different perspective," Belby shared.
"Why didn't you join St. Mungo's? I remember everyone competing for the top score in Potions to secure a place in their program," Sirius inquired.
"I did consider it, but my interests leaned more towards research and investigation. Then, when I learned that Horace wanted to retire, I applied for the position. Working at Hogwarts essentially guarantees lifelong employment and access to one of the best libraries and resources in Europe," Belby explained.
"But why aren't you working there? How could Dumbledore turn down your application?" Sirius asked.
"Well, he politely declined because he had already accepted the application of a young man who was described as talented and highly motivated. You know... The field attracts fewer people than ever, so I chose to support Dumbledore's choice," Belby replied.
"I did my best in my seventh year, but I could never tolerate Slughorn's constant remarks about not being sorted into Slytherin or how he played favorites. So, I suppose it was time for him to retire. A new professor, young and motivated as you described, would be fairer to his students," Sirius reflected.
"Eldred and I were both members of his club," Belby mentioned, carefully handling a long glass tube.
Curious, Sirius inquired, "What's that?"
"This is a condenser! It's used for distillation... Could you hold it in this position?" Belby responded.
Sirius took hold of the condenser as Belby proceeded to attach two supports on each side, connecting a round-bottomed flask to the left. Before joining the flask, he connected it to another wide glass tube with multiple internal glass "fingers" pointing downwards. With a wave of his wand, the purple liquid inside began to move.
"Before you ask, this is a distillation system. It helps separate mixtures of liquid substances with different boiling temperatures. The heat and low pressure will vaporize the two substances successively, and the resulting vapor will condense, providing the desired distillate," Belby explained.
A few moments later, as Belby had announced, the vapor started ascending along the column, and water began flowing into the condenser, causing droplets to fall into the receiving flask. When the process was complete, Belby used his wand to cool the system before starting to dismantle it.
"So, what's next?" Sirius inquired.
"I want to precisely identify the contents. I'll separate it into several test tubes, and in each one, I'll add a drop of a different reagent or enzyme to initiate a distinct reaction. By observing the color the distillate takes, I can deduce the presence or absence of certain elements. In this case, aconite contains an alkaloid called Aconitine, which consists of Nitrogen, Carbon, Hydrogen, and, of course, Oxygen. So, when we add silver nitrate, it should..." Belby's expression turned into a frown as the test tube turned a dark green hue.
"Did something go wrong?" Sirius inquired with concern.
"Yes... No... I don't know... It wasn't supposed to... Did you touch anything?" Belby questioned, glancing at his notes.
"Of course not!" Sirius exclaimed defensively.
"Then, if your arm is feeling better, please go bother someone else! Eldred, preferably... Close the door behind you, and make sure to inform everyone that I don't wish to be disturbed. I'll pass on dinner, thank you. Goodbye," Belby stated, gesturing towards the door with his quill.
May 7, 1985,
at 2 a.m., inside the police station in Brasov.
The officers sat at the front desk, engrossed in a game of cards, carelessly slamming them down near their steaming cups of coffee. It had been a calm shift so far, with little noise heard from outside. However, their game abruptly halted as they heard the sound of someone entering the station. Hastily, one of the officers concealed the cards, and they exchanged uneasy glances upon seeing the newcomer's appearance, despite his friendly smile and polite greeting.
"Good evening, officers," the man greeted, closing the door behind him.
"Good evening, comrade... Is there something we can assist you with?" one of the officers inquired.
"Yes, you can. I would like to report two incredibly brutal murders," the man requested.
"Murders?! What murders?" the other officer exclaimed.
"Yours," the man calmly replied.