Author's note: This is a short interlude, dividing the first half of Falls the Shadow from the second half. Because it's so short, I'm going to update with the next chapter in a week or two, rather than in a month as usual.

So everyone's aware, updates might be a tad slower for the next few months. In addition to working full time, I'm auditing an Old English class at the university I work for, and language classes often require more work than most other classes. I may audit the second half of the course next semester, but I haven't decided on that yet. There's also something I'm trying to improve in the last few chapters, although hopefully I can finish that before it's time to update them. Still, I'll try to get things up in as timely a manner as possible.

Interlude
15 April 1945

It was one of the last German cities that the English, the Russians, and the Americans had left untouched. Thus far Bamberg, a region with little military or industrial significance, showed no sign that a single bomb had ever landed there; but now the war was creeping upon what should have been an idyllic Bavarian setting. The week before, the United States 7th Army had captured Aschaffenburg, and almost certainly were preparing to advance upon Nuremberg, and Bamberg lay in their path. In anticipation of the American advance, the German troops remaining there had spent most of the night preparing and manning barricades. Whether they would put much effort into defending the city was another matter entirely. At the moment, however, Bamberg seemed very quiet, save for the distant shouting of German officers. The civilians had all hidden inside their houses and closed their doors and their curtains, those who weren't peeking out their windows, watching and waiting, knowing that by this time the next day, their city would be in the enemy's hands. It was in this quiet and tense atmosphere that Laertes Grobschmied visited Bamberg, if by "visiting", one meant lying low in an alley beside a pharmacy, having used every spell he knew to magically conceal himself. Those without magical ability would not be able to see him, but there was far more for a goblin to fear in this place than being observed by non-magical soldiers. Therefore, as he crouched behind some bins, writing in a journal, he frequently paused to listen for other sounds besides the distant Germans barking orders.

Day Thirteen. Bamberg. City is intact. We are reasonably certain our quarry is here somewhere. Haven't found a hiding place yet. The city is on high alert. We're keeping away from all magical settlements, but the non-magical places remain dangerous too. One can only hope that the rumours we heard last night were true; it would mean that before long, it might be safe for us to move quickly. Perhaps we might be free to openly pursue—

He got no further than this, however, when the sudden clatter of something metal getting knocked over, a tin can perhaps, reached his ears, and he started, dropping his journal and raising his hands, prepared to throw spells at any sign of trouble. But he relaxed a little when he saw who stumbled around the bins.

"And you're the one always lecturing me about being too inconspicuous," he smirked.

His brother sat on the ground beside him. "You'd think Grindelwald's death would make things a bit easier for us."

"We don't know for sure that he's dead yet," Laertes pointed out, retrieving and closing his journal. "Even if he is, he's only been dead for a day. The Triskelions as a whole likely haven't surrendered yet, and until that changes we need to continue keeping to the shadows." He looked at Benedict closely. "Any sign of him?"

"No, unfortunately, although I'm sure he's here somewhere."

Laertes shook his head in frustration. "This clerk from Knockturn Alley's a slippery bastard, isn't he? What does he want so badly that he's run off into a war zone?"

As he spoke, he opened his bag and pulled out a loaf of bread. Benedict stared at him. "Where'd you get that?"

Laertes broke it in half and offered the larger half to his brother. "Swiped it from some soldier's mess kit while you were out scouting."

Benedict's jaw dropped. "Are you mad? There are plenty of shops here to sneak into!"

"Tried that, but none of them have much food left."

"If anyone had seen you…!"

"But they didn't," Laertes said firmly.

For a few seconds Benedict only glared at him, but nonetheless he accepted the bread and started eating.

"The soldier probably won't realise it's gone anyway, the way their officers have got them running around," Laertes said, pulling a piece off his half and stuffing it in his mouth. "They've set up barricades around all the city entrances. The one 'round the corner has a log barricade about five feet thick."

Benedict swallowed his bite. "The Americans captured Heilbronn two days ago. Bamberg's next in their route."

"So I heard," said Laertes. "We should get out of here before then."

Benedict shook his head fervently. "We might lose track of him again if we leave before he does. You didn't see any sign of him while you were out?"

"Sadly, no. Didn't dare ask around either."

"I should hope not!"

Laertes shrugged, and took another bite of his bread. They started at another soft clatter, but relaxed when they saw it was only a rat grubbing through a trash pile nearby. Benedict and Laertes remained quiet until they finished off the loaf.

As he brushed crumbs off his jacket, Laertes said thoughtfully, "It's strange, don't you think? He was sticking to the countryside until yesterday, keeping away from the cities. Can't blame him for that, really. But then he suddenly decides to hide in Bamberg? Right when the Americans are about to invade this area?"

Benedict nodded. "And he won't find anyone to sell the stolen items to. Not here. I don't imagine anyone here has a lot of money right now."

"Not enough for a cup and a locket of that value, anyway."

The German shouting seemed to grow louder as he spoke, and the two brothers paused, glancing towards the corner near the barricade. The Muggle soldiers wouldn't see them or detect their wards, but there was always the risk that a Triskelion was also among them, and they were trained to search for any form of magical concealment, including goblin magic. Especially goblin magic. If a Triskelion detected them, they would have to get out of the area quickly or avoid capture.

"I'd tell you that it isn't worth it," Laertes said, once the shouting stopped, "if you didn't possibly have a price on your head. Bloody humans. Just because you found the body…"

The shouting began again. It seemed to be closer. Benedict glanced at Laertes warily, and then slowly stood, peering over the top of the bins. He then ducked back down, and gave his brother a short nod. Together they retreated further down the alley and around a corner behind the pharmacy. They then crawled through an opening under a chain-link fence and into an adjacent alley by a bakery, where they had fashioned a small shelter out of broken packing crates the night before. As they drew closer, Benedict raised a fist and murmured a Nemelian incantation. There was a soft humming sound, and a purple shimmering surrounded them and their hut like a dome, and faded. Then Benedict yawned and crawled into the hut.

Laertes looked over his shoulder again. "I think I'll go scope out the Altenburg road. Should be able to see from there if the Americans are coming."

Benedict peered out from the little hut. "I should come too."

"No. You look dead. I'll be fine." He smirked, and flicked a bread crumb from his lapel. "I'll let you know immediately if I see him."

Benedict looked at him seriously. "If you do, do not risk a confrontation until I get there. We know what he's capable of. It would be better with two of us."

"Right," said Laertes. "If I'm not back in an hour, you can come looking for me."

He then went back up the alley, turned the corner, and disappeared from sight. Benedict leaned his head against the side of the hut, and took out his fob watch. He then wound a dial at the side, and stuffed it back into his pocket, before allowing his eyes to slide shut.

It seemed like barely a few minutes had passed when his watch began ticking loudly, rousing Benedict Grobschmied from his brief slumber. The ticking stopped, but he was alert, staring at it. He then sighed, and dragged himself out of the hut. An hour had passed, but as he looked up and down the alley, he saw no sign of his brother. An icy fear seemed to claw at his heart, and, keeping low and to the shadows, he began moving towards the streets, keeping a wary eye on the windows and doorways looking over the alleys, trying to remember the routes that they'd mapped out the evening before. Bamberg wasn't a metropolis, but it was still large enough a place that it could take ages to find Laertes, even if he knew his intended destination. The most dangerous part would be crossing the streets, but like Laertes he found avoiding drawing the German soldiers' attention relatively easy, though he still had to keep as quiet and surreptitious as possible, knowing that the smallest mistake could draw the attention of one of the Triskelions, who had a habit of killing goblins on sight, or worse. As he moved he cast perception spells around his person, but he and Laertes had also learned to keep their pointed ears hidden under the flaps of their hats, and to keep up another spell to make their arms look shorter and their noses less flat, to give themselves a fully-human appearance. It was illusion, however, not transfiguration, and any odd movement could break that illusion, causing their true forms to appear; it was a risky approach to magically concealing themselves, but unfortunately illusion spells were easier and quicker to cast, and therefore generally better for someone who constantly had to be on the move.

Through a lengthy route of back alleys, under and over fences, and across the smaller, less-used streets, he eventually came into sight of the Altenburg castle, viewing it as he crouched down behind a hedge. He couldn't see Laertes anywhere, but it wasn't exactly a small area. Then he heard the distant sound of explosions, and he looked in the direction of Heilbronn. In the distance he could see a column of smoke, and clouds of dust from somewhere down the road, undoubtedly from a coming tank division. In seeming confirmation of this assessment, he then heard the sound of running feet, and peered over the hedge in time to see a contingent of German soldiers running past, in the direction of the sounds.

"Schnell, schnell! Auf die Barrikaden!" one of them yelled. "Die Amerikaner kommen!"

Benedict crouched back down, keeping low, although he supposed it was possible that with the approach of the Americans any Triskelions in the town might have left; if the Americans were coming, undoubtedly the Helvetian Paladins and their allies would soon be in Bamberg as well, hunting down and capturing or killing any Triskelion stragglers. Nonetheless, he didn't want to risk anyone from the magical world seeing him, not yet. Not until he heard for a certainty that the war was over. When the footsteps finally died down, Benedict again peered over the hedge. He stifled an astonished gasp. There, not twenty feet away, on the other side of the street, stood the very wizard he and Laertes had left Britain to hunt down, looking not at him, but at a parked military staff car, its drivers nowhere in sight. He then suddenly drew his wand and fiercely brandished it at the ground under the car.

"Reducto!"

There was a tremendous blast, and the car flipped over, barely missing—to Benedict's utter horror—Laertes, who had been crouching behind it. The thieving clerk they'd been tracking for the past month seemed to rear upon him like a snake cornering its prey.

"Petrificus totalus," Tom Riddle spat.

Laertes' body froze. Benedict ducked back down behind the hedge as Riddle looked up and down the street, either making sure the coast was clear, that there were no other soldiers coming, or (more likely) anyone else who might have been tailing him. Either way, Benedict didn't dare to move or even breathe.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice you skulking around, goblin?" he heard Riddle hiss. "Was this what you were after? Or this, perhaps?"

Swallowing in terror, Benedict risked peering over the hedge again. He could see Riddle waving a golden cup before Laertes; from his other hand dangled a silver locket. Benedict sank behind the hedge again, his heart screaming at him to help Laertes, but nonetheless he remained exactly where he was; the hedge was well within Riddle's peripheral vision, and Benedict was certain that if he made an appearance he'd end up exactly like Laertes, paralysed under Riddle's curse, likely to be dealt with in the same way as the owner of the cup and locket. He then heard Riddle negate the body bind, but no sooner had he done so when Benedict heard him cry, "Incarcerous!", and heard the whipping sound of a conjured rope binding his brother.

"What's your deal in this?" demanded Riddle. "Did the Gringotts goblins put security measures on Madam Smith's property? Is that how you knew?"

"My deal?" Laertes snapped back, and Benedict closed his eyes in sorrow, frustration, and admiration at his brother's boldness. "You won't find anyone here with enough money to purchase those for their real worth. So what's your deal, Riddle?"

"Crucio!" Riddle snarled.

Benedict flinched. He could hear his brother convulsing on the ground, evidently doing a valiant job of holding back his screams, but eventually he could no longer stop himself from giving voice to his agony. Guttural shrieks of pain met Benedict's ears, but hating himself, he still didn't dare to move.

Finally, the screams stopped as Riddle released the curse. "Who else knows about this?"

He heard Laertes spit out blood, before firmly telling him, "No one."

"Crucio!"

More screaming. This time it seemed to go on for ages. When Riddle finally lifted it, Benedict could hear Laertes hyperventilating, or crying; he couldn't tell.

"Who have you told?" Riddle again demanded.

"No one!" cried Laertes. "I acted alone! I was Madam Smith's accountant! She told me about your visits!"

Benedict swallowed, listening to the half-lie, still frozen in fear. A few seconds past, and then he heard Laertes, evidently recovering himself enough to snarl, "When they found her, and her treasures were gone, I knew it was you."

Riddle laughed. "A lone agent of justice? How inspiring!"

"No one else believed me, but I knew it was you! Did you think you could get away with it?"

There was an ugly pause. Unable to take it anymore, Benedict began to rise up again, prepared to try to take Riddle from behind if he could.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Benedict Grobschmied had straightened enough to see over the hedge just as he saw a bright flash of poisonous green light. Laertes, still bound by ropes, fell still.

"Get away with it?" Riddle repeated in cold satisfaction. "I believe I just did."

With that, he kicked Laertes' body aside and Disapparated, and Benedict Grobschmied was left in stunned disbelief, before he crumpled down behind the hedge with a howl of rage and devastation that, in the chaos of war, went unheard. It would be the first of many.