Chapter 5 - Zwischenhalt
Dudley frowned as the TV began to flicker again. He had begged his dad to get him one of the new flat-screen TV's exactly because of issues like this, but somehow, this new LCD thing seemed to be just as wonky as the old one, if not more so. Even if it mostly started during the night. He reached for the bed, grabbed one of his pillows, and tossed it at the screen, but sadly, that didn't fix the issue. It wasn't even the reception; he was playing on his XBOX for crying out loud.
Probably the Freak's fault anyway.
His mind wandered over to his cousin, and he began to blush again. He had no idea what to think lately, if he was honest. She was just the same as always, just as creepy, just as wrong. And the fact that her brother was gone had just meant that she had stopped hiding it.
But he had still found himself staring. Talking. And he hated that. He didn't understand it.
She was just the same, yet so very different now.
The TV flickered once more, and suddenly went dark. Dudley groaned. The game had already been lost anyway.
"Stupid shit."
He tossed the controller to the other side of the room, then got up and left for the bathroom. He was tired as hell. He'd annoy Dad into fixing it tomorrow.
Having done his business, he went over to the sink to give his maximum effort of brushing his teeth—which was thirty seconds tops—then rinsed out his mouth, and froze. His head still stuck underneath the tap; he heard the door click. Someone had just entered behind him, and... for some reason, he felt a shiver run down his spine.
There was a strange metallic scent in the air. And also a soft dripping noise, that wasn't coming from the sink.
Slowly, he turned off the tap, and despite his better judgement, began to turn.
And there she was. Clearly visible against the white bathroom lights, he once again found himself staring. Except this time, for an entirely different reason. His mind took a while to understand what he was looking at, but he of course recognized it—he had played too much Gears of War not to.
Blood.
She was covered from head to toe in splatters of blood.
It was dripping all over the bathroom tiles.
Dudley just stared. He had no idea what else to do. No words came to his mind, and even if they did, he was sure that he didn't have the courage to say them.
What. the. fuck.
"I-Iris?"
"Go to bed, Dudley," she said.
That was all she would say? After... after... what?
At some point, he realized that he wasn't breathing. But somehow, even with that realization, his mind couldn't do anything about it.
He found himself pinned under her gaze, those bright green eyes somehow becoming terrifying all on their own, while the rest of her body was painted the same color as her hair.
"Now," she added with a flick of her head towards the door, causing him to jump.
Falling over his own limbs, he shuffled to the side, towards the door, careful to keep as much distance from the... the thing... as possible. He almost stepped into a small puddle at the door, and flinched back from the door handle, when he noticed that was covered in red as well. Nudging the door open wider while avoiding touching the handle, he finally managed to squeeze through, and without looking over his shoulder, he bolted for his room, locking the door behind him.
Holy fucking shit!
~V~
Iris shut the door to her room behind her, and then collapsed against it. She had spent the last few days looking for any hints, any traces on where to continue her search, and when she had finally gotten lucky, it had immediately gone horribly wrong. At least with Lockhart, there was the benefit of a doubt as to what had happened to him, but here? She had just made a man kill himself. And she hadn't even intended to.
It had taken almost an hour to get all the blood out. Somehow, all her cleaning charms had failed the task. So in the end, she had had to do it by hand. And even if her body finally felt clean once more, her mind was anything but. Over and over it played in her mind, even if she turned off her Mindlight. A word, a flash, and a shower of red.
Faster than she could react.
She had wanted him to forget. And he had. Except not in the way she had intended. Like an NPC; simply following commands, no matter how stupid they were.
Unable to think, she had fled the scene, diving right into the shadows, and only re-emerging once she was back here.
This was the path she had chosen. And she hated it; she hated herself. She had been stupid and reckless again. Just because she didn't care about consequences to herself, didn't mean there wouldn't be consequences to others.
And she had known this. She had known that she would make mistakes, just like everyone else. She had known things would go wrong. But she had decided to push down this path regardless. She had willingly refused the reality of being fallible, because to accept it would mean giving up on Harry. And now she was facing the consequences of that decision. Yet her decision remained unchanged.
There might have been a better way. And next time, she would find it. She couldn't allow herself mistakes like that. Not when they would affect her chance of bringing him back.
Iris just sat there, staring down the empty room. Hedwig was probably out hunting again. She envied the owl for being a creature of the night, because she knew there was no way she was getting any sleep now.
Deciding she might as well use the time for something productive, she opened the bag she had brought, pulled out a book, and sat down on her bed to flip through it.
Useless.
Useless, useless, useless!
So far, she had found a book that dealt specifically with curses designed to inflict the maximum amount of pain—which she had no idea why anyone would bother with if there was already the Cruciatus—another book mostly focusing on bloodline curses, a similar one that explored curses of the mind, one book that went into detail on polarized magic—which fine, was useful, but also not what she was looking for—and finally another book that dealt with the creation of cursed artifacts. Nothing she had found so far was of any use to her goal.
She had just killed someone; and it had been for nothing.
Iris sagged back down onto the bed, the old tome tumbling from her grip. This hadn't really helped her state of mind. If anything, it had only served to highlight just how twisted and cruel part of the Wizarding World could be; a part that she would now inevitably find herself involved with.
If anywhere held the answers that she sought, it would be in the very darkest corner of that world.
Just what had she expected when she had chosen that path? That she'd be able to coast by as she had been; avoiding any greater consequences by sheer dumb luck?
Things had gone wrong. And things would continue to go wrong. Things would get a lot worse, before they would get better.
She had accepted that. But that didn't mean that she had been prepared for it.
Her gaze drifted over to her desk, where the ever-growing pile of untouched letters sat. Was it time to finally reply? She didn't think she'd ever feel in the mood to actually sit down and write them, not unless she managed to bring him back, and even then...
But still. It was part of the plan. She needed to, at some point, otherwise people would get suspicious.
With a sigh, she pulled herself upright again, made her way over to the desk, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, sat down, and—
What the hell was she supposed to write? She couldn't just tell them about... about Harry. No, if anything, she felt that telling them he was dead was like admitting defeat. Like accepting it. Harry wasn't dead, she just hadn't found a way to bring him back yet.
But then what? What else was there to write? If she wouldn't tell them about Harry, what else could she write but hollow lies?
Was this how Lockhart had felt when he wrote his books? Thinking about what to write that people would accept, that would pass suspicion, and simultaneously achieve his goal?
Except she cared about the very people she was trying to lie to.
Which made this all the more complicated. The ones that she wanted to write to the most, were the very same ones she was the most reluctant about. She had only just repaired her friendship with Tracey. Theo still was trying to keep his distance, so there was no point in writing him. Neville would probably entirely fall apart if he ever found out what she was doing—he had already been scared of her and had still been trying to be her friend regardless. Susan was the most dangerous, if only through her connection to the ministry. Luna was... well, there was a good chance that Luna would see right through any lies she might come up with. Unless she came up with a convincing alternative story behind the lie that sounded too interesting and fantastic not to be true, she guessed. And Ron...
Well... As bad as this sounded, but Ron was probably the safest... target.
God. What was wrong with her?
Hi Ron,
Sorry I haven't been replying, but well, you hit the nail right on the head. I've been very busy. Can't say more in a letter, you know how it is.
It's been... a mess. But I'm doing better. How are things going at your place? Is Ginny doing alright?
Thanks for the Cauldron Cakes. I'm not gonna tell you to stop sending them, but please don't feel obligated to... you know.
Hope to see you soon.
—Iris
Well, so much for that. Somehow, even with Ron, she hadn't been able to bring herself to outright lie about Harry, so she had basically avoided the topic altogether. Some Slytherin she was.
Iris turned to look over at the stack of Cauldron Cakes with a pang of guilt. How long would these even last, anyway? She hoped that he took the hint and stopped sending them. She really wasn't in the mood, no matter how much she loved those things.
A ferocious growl from her stomach begged to differ.
When was the last time she had eaten a proper meal, anyway?
Well, there was nothing for it. Iris wrapped up the letter, and handed it over to Hedwig, deciding to put off the other letters for later. With that done, she reluctantly made her way downstairs to have an early breakfast, even if she'd have to force herself to actually eat a proper amount. She'd need her strength; Germany wasn't just around the corner, after all.
~V~
Iris had to double her usual breakfast until her stomach finally quieted down, but in the end, she had finished up before any of the Dursleys had even gotten up. Even if they left her alone now, she tried to avoid them just because of how awkward it felt to see them scurry away from her at a mere glance.
She had things to do. Plans to make. First on the list was to learn two very specific spells. Spells she would need for her trip, and spells she should have learned long before, since they would have saved her a lot of trouble. After all, doing something as flashy as casting the Imperius just because someone asked to see her ID seemed a bit... Well, with what had just happened, suffice to say she wouldn't be casting that curse again any time soon. Unless it was absolutely necessary. Enter the Confundus Charm. This one seemed easy enough. Mind plus Illusion. A few tries and a very confused Dudley later, she declared that one a success.
The Obliviation charm in turn seemed a lot harder. The Confundus was more of a general impression to confuse someone and making them think a certain thing, where their own mind would help come up with the details. The Obliviate spell in turn was like a scalpel. Mind, and Destruction. You could use it to specifically carve out very precise sections of someone's memory, or you could just lash out and stab right into it, taking as much as possible while leaving only destruction in your wake. The first one required a lot of control, something which she was still not the best at, and it was also the type that could be easily reversed, the same way Greengrass had done with her. The second one would leave behind only scorched earth. Even the most skilled of mind healers might struggle to reverse a brute-force Obliviation, depending on how it was done. But it would also be blatantly obvious what happened.
This was the reason why she hadn't attempted that spell on anyone yet. She knew she was not exactly the epitomy of control, and it was one thing to threaten her relatives into silence—if necessary, she could even alter their memories later—but to do something permanent would sooner or later inevitably come back to bite her.
She had still given it her best effort to practice as much as possible without actually casting the spell. She figured she'd get to that when an opportunity presented itself. But for now, the Confundus Charm should be more than sufficient. Especially, if it was only against Muggles.
In all of her life, Hogwarts had been the furthest Iris had ever been from home. And she had never actually left the country before. But she had spent some time on the internet researching, and following that, asking Vernon all the things that still didn't make sense. He had been only too happy to oblige, once he realized that it meant she would be out of the house for a few days.
She had looked up the path to the place in Germany that the creepy shopkeeper of Borgin and Burke's had mentioned, and once again had decided to go with the train route. Except this time, she'd actually take the train.
Iris guessed she could just wait for nightfall and attempt to follow the tracks via the shadow realm, but some further inspection on Google Maps showed that unlike the singular track of the Hogwarts Express, this would get really confusing. By far the easiest, if not the fastest method seemed to be to just buy a ticket and try her luck with the Deutsche Bahn. What could go wrong?
Magical means of travel were a no-go. If anyone would ask questions, it'd be wizards. And if anything went wrong there, her chances of being able to escape or confound her way out of the situation were much lower. So she'd have to take the Muggle route.
The only major snag that wouldn't just go away by throwing some money and patience at it was the border between the UK and France. Technically, they were all supposed to be within the EU, and there should be no border controls, but of course Britain just had to be special. And of course, the Dursleys had never felt the need to go and get her an actual passport. Not that it would be a good idea to embark on a trip like this using her real name, anyway.
That's also why she had decided to go by train instead of anything else. By airplane or by bus would send her through a massive border control checkpoint upon entering the country that would be much harder to weasel through without a passport. And if something went wrong there, she'd be stuck in a foreign country, in a completely unfamiliar situation. Iris wasn't even sure if she'd recognize any possible magical border guards there; she had no idea if the odd fashion sense of wizards was something just unique to the British Isles after all. Also, taking her magical belongings onto an airplane sounded like one bad idea and a half, if you weren't even supposed to turn on your phone during the flight.
She could just bypass that entirely through the shadow realm. But then she'd have to find her way on her own on the other side; she couldn't just continue by bus or plane, and there were just too many unknown variables. But on the train, she just had to bypass the entry border checks in Kings Cross through the shadows, and possibly confound the train attendant. The train wouldn't even stop at the border. Seemed easy enough. Also, on the train people would probably ask the least questions. She was even legally old enough to travel on her own; all she needed was a permission-slip from her guardians. Not that that would make much of a difference without a passport. But that's what the Confundus Charm was for.
If something went wrong in Kings Cross, she could just abort and make a run for it. And the way back would even be a lot simpler, if the Internet forums were to be believed. Apparently, she could just buy a ticket from Brussels to Lille—which didn't require any border checks to enter since it was entirely within the EU—and then just... not get off the train.
Finally, having secured some pounds from Vernon, and a lunch box from Petunia, she returned to her room to pack her bag. There was no need for any books or other utensils. She brought some Galleons, her Muggle money, her old primary school student ID—not that that was worth much, but in combination with the Confundus very much so—and finally, her father's Cloak. She couldn't bring the laptop since she planned to sneak past the border checkpoint in Kings Cross via the shadow realm. Instead, she'd printed out as much of the route as possible, including all the stops in between, departure times, and the print-out tickets she had bought with Vernon's credit card. After some pondering, she also packed a thermos filled with the one batch of Wiggenweld she had brewed during Snape's class, just to be safe. Even if she could just buy most of the stuff she needed, as with many things magic, there was nothing quite like something you'd created yourself.
Finally, after some rummaging through her stuff, she put on the least tattered-looking shirt she could find. And it was still almost too small for her now. With all the time she'd lamented being too short, her body now seemed to be making up for it twice over. At this point, almost none of her old clothes would still fit her, neither Dudley's, nor the ones they had reluctantly bought for her when she had grown a bit too old to just wear boy's things to school. She really should have bought some properly fitting ones already, but clothing had been the last thing on her mind over the past year. Still, at this point, it was almost getting ridiculous. With the black t-shirt on, she began squeezing into the only pair of jeans that would still fit. Yeah. Maybe another thing to add to her trip, then.
Everything firmly in place, she shouldered her magical backpack—which was just her expanded bookbag inside a regular backpack—pocketed her wand, and once again stepped into the shadows. She had a train to catch.
~V~
Once again following the path to Kings Cross for the second time that week, she finally found herself in front of the familiar train station. At least, as far as she could tell. During the day, the shadows were incredibly sparse; it was pretty difficult telling where she was through the occasional faint rifts she could spot, as compared to the vastness of the nighttime shadows. This time, however, she wouldn't enter the station directly. Rather, her path led her into the one right next to it—St. Pancras International.
At the surface it looked kinda similar, if a lot more modern, but the major difference was that the whole building was designed in a way to prevent anyone from doing exactly what she was about to do. In the center, in front of a row of escalators leading up to the tracks, was a large border control checkpoint blocking off the entirety of the passage. She was just peering from the shadows in the corner, trying to make out anything out of place. And there was. Right next to it, over to the side, there stood a group of security guards, and right in between them, where he couldn't have been more out of place, was a flip-chair, upon which a man in grey robes sat, looking half-asleep.
Apparently, she wasn't the first one to have had this idea then. Luckily, so far, wizards seemed to have been wholly unprepared for anyone infiltrating pretty much anything through the shadow realm—except for those strange red crystals, she guessed. But she didn't see any of those around a mental shrug, Iris slipped right past, causing two of the large metal detectors to begin beeping. She made her way up through the hall, snuck into one of the bathrooms behind the checkpoint, and quickly peeled open the shadows again.
Iris straightened her shirt, checked over her bag one final time, and then set out to start her trip. Out the bathroom, through the bustling hallway and up the escalator. At last, as she rose the final steps, she was greeted by a bright blue train bearing the Eurostar logo.
There was a train to Brussels already primed and waiting for her, the door standing open invitingly, and nobody in sight to ask any questions on whether she should even be here. Perfect. Now she'd just have to find her seat. She had booked one, after all, even if only using a fake name. But that shouldn't be an issue, since she was already past the point where her identity should have been verified.
Down to the third wagon, and into the... ah, there. A small display above seat 65 right next to the window showed the name Lily Blackwood. She'd Tipp-Ex'd her name from her student ID and re-printed it with Vernon's printer by taping it down on a sheet of paper in the right spot. It still was slightly off-center, but it would have to do.
Chucking her backpack into the empty seat next to it, she sat down, pulled out the most inconspicuous-looking of all the books she had liberated, and began to read.
~V~
Somehow, throughout the entire thing, not a single person had asked any questions other than whether she would like to have a cup of tea. Iris had gotten all the way through the book on polarized magic, and had gotten started on the one on spellcrafting, which was detailing the structural integrity and coherence of spells. She suspected this would prove necessary if she wanted to do what Myrtle had suggested and attempt to disassemble spells mid-air.
While not as immediately useful as polarized magic, this one was somehow incredibly interesting. She hadn't been able to put down the book once, until the announcement that they would be arriving in Brussels managed to snap her out of the zone. She had often fallen into this state of focus when something was really interesting, but ever since she had begun using her Mindlight, this had gotten a lot easier, and at the same time a lot worse.
Iris took the final sip from her cup—which had long since gone cold by now—pocketed her book and left in search for her connecting train. And as promised, not a single person stopped her or even so much as looked at her the wrong way on the way out. Was it really that easy to bypass the Muggle borders? Well, other than the fact she had cheated with the shadows. She'd have to see how well her plan for the way back would work out.
After some looking, she found a large display showing all the departing trains and their respective platforms. There, and according to her travel plan, there should be... What?
In twenty minutes, there was supposed to be a connecting train on platform four headed to Frankfurt. But there was an entirely different train listed. Oh. Was that it? ICE to Frankfurt on platform six. Checking the train number against her ticket confirmed that. Alright, so far, so good. The train seemed to be five minutes delayed, but she guessed it could be worse.
~V~
She just had to jinx it, hadn't she?
The train had left as announced, but then had stopped in a town called Aachen, and just... not continued. At first, she hadn't even noticed, being too engrossed by the book on spell theory, but a gruff and fuzzy announcement in German which she was pretty sure she wouldn't have understood even if she spoke the language had broken her from her thoughts, and made her realize that she was still in the second to last stop. And according to the clock at the end of the compartment, they should have already arrived in Köln by now.
Great. She just hoped that her connecting train would be delayed as well.
~V~
And as luck would have it, that should indeed be the case. In fact, it wasn't just delayed; it was cancelled entirely. At least that's what she guessed that the word Ausfall printed next to half of the trains on the display board meant.
Fan-fucking-tastic. She really should have just tried her luck with the shadows, she guessed. Pulling out her route plan again, she checked the rest of the path ahead.
Well, not exactly what she would call a straight shot from here, even though she wouldn't have to switch any more trains. She had no idea whether that would be one single track, or have railway points in the tracks, and then she wouldn't know where to turn. After some wandering, she found herself in front of a counter decorated with a big blue letter 'i'.
"Guten Tag," said the elderly man clad in a white shirt and dark blue vest, topped off with a red tie.
Iris tried to push down her annoyance and worry, and put on her trademark smile. "Uhm... sorry, I have a ticket for the train to Berlin, but it's... cancelled, I think? Is that correct?"
The man gave her a wry smile that his face seemed to have become very accustomed to.
"It is ausgefallen, yes. There was an axident in ze Stellwerk, but it should be soon fixed. You can tehk ze next one wif zis ticket. Just tell ze Fahrkartenkontrolleur."
Iris took a moment to parse through that. "Okay...? And... when is the next one?"
"At... ääh... zree quarters four."
Uhm...
"How long is that, exactly?"
The man checked the time table again, and gave her a nod. "Zree and half auers."
Iris slumped. Great.
"Apologize for ze issue, but zere is nofing zet can be done. But you are welcome to visit auer beautiful town in ze meanwhile," he added with a kindly smile. "But don't go too far, you need to wotch out zet you are beck at zree quarters four, yes? Better ten minutes before."
~V~
For the lack of anything else to do, Iris had done exactly that. At first, she had considered to just plop herself onto a bench in the waiting room and finish her book, but then she figured if she was stuck here anyway, she might as well go and get some things done. Like the one thing she had been putting off for over a year now. Her wardrobe.
Only after she had entered the first store and looked at the price tags had she come to the painful realization that obviously, none of these stores would take either Galleons or Pounds. In the end, she had found a shabby metallic box next to the train station that claimed to be a currency exchange, and after leaving there with a feeling of having thoroughly been ripped off, she had reluctantly gotten her shopping done.
Iris wasn't quite sure what to think of the results. She had never gone and picked any clothes out for herself before. Somehow, no matter what she tried, they just didn't quite work together, but she had no idea what would. And unlike at Madam Malkin's, where the assistant had basically guided her through the entire affair, in this store she was apparently supposed to just... pick out what she liked and see if it would fit by herself. In the end, she had picked function over form, and just bought some properly fitting t-shirts and shorts. And after basically almost an hour of that—over half of which had been wasted just trying to find a bra that would actually fit—she was already so done with the entire thing. Some girls supposedly enjoyed this stuff, but she really couldn't see why.
In the end, after the clerk had spent five minutes packaging up all her stuff so neatly, she hadn't even bothered to take it back out and just stuck with the slightly ill-fitting attire she had brought with her for now.
And now, she was back outside, in the middle of the sweltering summer of Köln, which even the recent British summer weather couldn't hold a candle to, and had no idea what to do with her remaining two and a half hours.
Maybe there was a magical district somewhere in this city as well? Some of these buildings looked pretty damn ancient, after all...
There was the main issue of finding it. And Iris had no idea how to even start with that. It wasn't like she'd just randomly stumble upon—
Whoa.
Okay, now she wasn't sure how the hell she had missed this earlier. It was pretty damn hard to miss; at least to her eyes.
Half-way across the city there was... a tower. A strange tall concrete tower, that looked like it was made to broadcast TV signals or something, but also held another purpose. It was one long conical concrete pillar all the way up, except at the top there was a ring where some sort of circular building was attached to it, covered in glass windows, and above that, what looked like a large antenna and a bajillion other things. But that wasn't what was strange about it. The really odd thing was that above it, in the air, where there was nothing—and should be nothing—there was very definitely something.
Something... pretty.
Even though she couldn't quite see it. But something was there, hidden from the human eye. Something circular, massive, floating over the top of the tower. Yep. She was definitely checking that one out.
~V~
Somehow, she had even managed to get all the way to the top without the use of any magic. Iris was still hesitant to try anything—being in a foreign country and all—but she figured sooner or later there wouldn't be a way around it anyway.
There was a restaurant here, also a very nice view across the city. And right in the middle, there was a door—for all intents and purposes looking like it was supposed to be there. Except it was very definitely pretty. And above the door, a simple metallic sign proclaimed:
Astro-TV GmbH
Iris raised an eyebrow, wondering what this place was supposed to be. She took a breath, pushed the handle and stepped inside. A melodic wind chime sounded as the door swung, and Iris blinked as she took in the room. There were screens, machines, buttons, levers and microphones. To the side, a room painted in eye-searing colors, containing a table and an assortment of crystals adorning it, none of which looked even remotely magical to her eye.
What on earth? This looked... well, the way Muggles would expect some magical things to look, a bit like some of those esoteric TV programs she had seen, except it seemed to be an actual TV studio dedicated to recording these? What was it doing at the top of this tower? And more importantly, why was the door covered in actual magic?
And what the hell was the gigantic circular invisible thing above the tower?
None of these things seemed to be remotely magical, and also, all the technology seemed to be working? Iris approached one of the screens showing a recording of a middle-aged man with wild grey hair and round glasses sitting in that very room, holding one of the crystals imprinted with a strange symbol. She didn't understand a single word, but from what it looked and sounded like, it reminded her very much of the fortune-teller in the park next to St. Grogorys. In other words, complete and utter hogwash.
And yet...
"Einen wunderschönen Tag, bitte entschuldigen Sie die Wartezeit, ich—"
The voice broke off, as the man who had just entered from the door on the other end of the room found her standing in front of the monitors and realized what he was seeing.
"Na sowas. Ich war sicher ich hab die Antiflachsenbannzauber angemacht," he muttered to himself.
It was the man from the TV show. Except he wasn't wearing the ridiculous colorful getup, but instead a neat light-blue shirt, jeans, and had his long hair tied into a ponytail, instead of having it splayed all over.
Also, instead of the boring round plastic glasses from the show, he was wearing strange metallic ones that seemed to have several lenses of all sizes and shapes. And even though he was still wearing a kind smile, Iris' eyes widened as she noticed he was reaching a hand into his back pocket, and started to pull out a wand.
Before he could even blink, Iris had her wand up and aimed right at his face.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Iris said
"Oh! Scheiße, äh... I... Apologies, I thought you were one of the Flachsen," the man said.
Iris raised an eyebrow. "Flachsen?" she repeated incredulously.
His eyes darted back and forth, but he still hadn't let go of his wand, even though he hadn't drawn it yet.
"Flachsen! Ääh... You know, Flachseher!"
Iris just stared back at him uncomprehendingly, and slowly lowered her wand, but she didn't let go of it either.
"Ich mein," he began. "You know... the people without magic. You're..." he broke off, and sighed.
Then, his look turned skeptical. "What are you doing here? You are a bit too young to be here without your parents... Especially if you're not from here. Also, there are no tours this week."
"Tours? Uhm... what exactly is this place?"
"You don't know? How did you get here, then?" he asked suspiciously, still eying her wand.
Iris backpedaled. "I just wanted to see what the giant thing on top of the tower was."
"The... you saw the lens?! Scheiße, ist der Zauber kaputt?"
The man abandoned all attempts at wariness or carefully palming his wand, and instead dashed for the window, tossed it open and peered outside, and upwards.
"Heilige Scheiße, don't scare me like that!" he exclaimed. "The Magiesicherungsdienst is still on my ass from last time..."
Iris sheepishly looked down, while internally scolding herself. Yeah, being able to see magic wasn't exactly common. She really should be paying more attention to what she was saying. Iris used the moment of distraction to awkwardly pocket her wand again.
Finally, he seemingly managed to calm down enough to remember their conversation, and pinned her under a curious gaze.
"How did you know? If you don't even know what this place is," he asked, this time with unbridled curiosity.
Iris pondered for a moment. She guessed it couldn't hurt to tell him that much, she went under a fake name anyway, and probably would never see the man again.
"I can... kinda see magic," Iris said. "Well, some of it, at least. And there was a massive circular magic thing above the building. Is that what you called it, the lens? What does it do?"
"Truly? Fascinating!" he said, seemingly dipping a bit deeper into his accent, but was still leagues more comprehensible than the employee at the information counter of the Deutsche Bahn.
"Richard Stern. I run this little... business. You're from England, right?" he asked. The man seemed to have entirely discarded any suspicion and was now excitedly holding out his hand.
Reluctantly, Iris reached out a hand, and made to shake the larger one. "Yeah. Lily Blackwood," she replied, feeling a shiver run down her spine. Saying the name out loud definitely felt odd. She had no idea what she had been thinking.
"You're here on your own?" Mr. Stern asked curiously, but was distracted by the screens having started to flicker for a moment, but they seemed to calm down after a few seconds.
Iris sighed. "I'm travelling through here, but the train to Berlin got cancelled, and the next one leaves in over two hours..."
"Ah yes. Welcome to Germany," he replied with a nod.
Was that supposed to be the famous German humor?
"Anyway. What this place is... well, it's a little bit difficult to explain," he said, and slowly made his way over to the row of monitors."
"This," he said, gesturing at the screen, "is Astro-TV. You probably never heard of it; we only broadcast in German."
"It looks like a scam," Iris replied dryly.
"Because that's what it is," Mr. Stern confirmed with a nod.
Iris raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate.
"To the simple people, this is all real. They love it, watch it, everyone knows about it," he said, picking up one of the large blue crystals.
"To the smart people, this is all obviously fake, and blatantly so," he continued, trailing a hand along the table. "Nobody questions it, as it is obviously not worth their time."
Iris slowly nodded.
"But in reality, it has an entirely different purpose," he said. "And whether simple or smart, none of the Flachsen would ever bother to look into it."
He turned to the far wall, where a large electric box sat, tiny switches and lights, as well as what looked like a large circuit breaker.
"During the day, this is exactly what it is. TV. But during the night, after the broadcast ends, and after we shut down all the electronics..."
He pressed a button at another panel and the roof slowly began to slide open. "That is where the Astro part comes in."
Iris looked up, then further up. What she was looking at seemed to be the inside of the top of the tower. A long, cylindrical metallic shaft extending up and up, except it was filled with lenses. Large glass lenses of various shapes and sizes, framed in heavy brass rings, extending all the way up to the top, where the tower opened into the sky. And all of them seemed to be glimmering in different colors, which she was pretty sure only she could see.
"We forge Artifacts here. Magical artifacts. This place is what I lovingly call the Sternenschmiede."
Iris stared up at the infinite reflections, the light gathering through all the lenses and focusing on a single point on the ground, where a solid metallic platform slowly began to rise.
"You're... you're using the power of the stars... to create Artifacts..." Iris said in awe.
The man's smile widened. "Very good. Mitarbeitsplus!" he replied excitedly.
Iris eyes widened. "But that's not all there is to it..."
Mr. Stern rose a surprised eyebrow. "Oh?"
"The symbols... The symbols on the crystals... And all the other things..."
Somehow, his excitement only visibly grew. Iris' gaze jumped from the engraved symbols on the gathered objects, over to the screen still showing the man presenting said symbol to the gullible masses.
"You're not just creating artifacts... you're creating symbols as well."
"Quite the observant girl you are, Miss Blackwood... although, to be honest, I thought ritualcraft was banned in England..." he said with a mix of excitement and suspicion.
Curious. "Is it not here?" Iris asked.
"Well," Mr. Stern said with a shrug. "Legally, it's a gray area. But everyone uses way too many products that in some way rely on it for them to actually be able to change the law now."
"Really?" Iris asked. "I've never seen any magical things that seemed like they'd use ritualistic magic in a way..."
"Yes, usually you wouldn't, as it is very unpredictable," Mr. Stern said. "But there is a little trick to that. You go to Hogwarts, yes?"
Iris just shrugged and nodded. At this point, there was probably no use denying it, given her age and the fact she didn't think there were any other magical schools in Britain.
"Your new history Professor, ääh... Mr. Lupin, I think. He bought the magical overhead projector here," he said.
That thing? The crystal contraption with symbols that somehow seemed to be able to project memories? A bit like a Pensieve, except very different...
"So... you give the symbols meaning using your TV show... then you use them in small rituals to apply their properties to your artifacts?" Iris asked for confirmation.
Mr. Stern wandered over to the desk containing the pile of gemstones, picked out one with a symbol she had never seen before, that looked like a mix of a snowflake and a spiral. Then, he put on a heavy German accent for show, removed his hairband, raised up the crystal and began to speak.
"Zis is ze Mark of Frost! It channels astral powers right from the stars, into your home, using the might of the mystic to keep you and your house cooler in the summer. And if you call now and order immediately... you can get the Mark of Flame in addition for free!"
Iris nodded and couldn't hold back a grin. It was genius, in a way. Somewhat similar to what Lockhart had done, except instead of malicious and self-serving, it had been turned into a business. A business that its owner could be proud of, if the free tour she was getting was any indication. And also it was probably a lot more powerful, given the difference in numbers between Muggles and Magicals. For something as simple as creating an artifact related to cooling, she was pretty sure the sacrifice would be minimal, if any would be required at all. And if it didn't work, they could just start over. But if it did work... Rituals were permanent after all.
"But... one thing doesn't make sense..." Iris said. "You're creating symbols to enchant the artifacts, and you're focusing the power of the stars to create them? How does that work together? Wouldn't the symbols just work on their own?"
Mr Stern nodded, having tied his hair back once again. "Indeed, but as I'm sure you know, free ritual can be very unpredictable. It is by using the power of the stars we can work around that. In this case, the symbols only guide the magic, the intent. The power solely originates from the stars."
Iris turned to stare up at the array of lenses, marveling at how the sky reflected in all sorts of shimmering colors, and how even just the blue of the empty sky seemed to be focused to a blinding dot. It was amazing, really. Both the way they would capture the light with a giant invisible floating lens, and how they would craft entirely new symbols to guide it, but she didn't quite see how it would all tie together. "Why would the power of the stars make rituals more stable?"
"Do you know where our magic comes from, Miss Blackwood?"
Iris froze, feeling a shiver run down her spine at the question. No, she didn't. Nobody did, right? It was just there, all around you... At least, that's what the books said.
Slowly, Iris turned towards the man, eyes wide, having been totally unprepared for the question. Apparently, that fact could be read on her expression like a children's book.
Mr. Stern gave a small smirk, raised a single finger, held it there in front of him, until he finally said, "Look up."
Iris looked up.
And she kept looking. Apart from all the lenses, the metallic tower, and the circular window surrounding it showing the rest of the sky...
What was she supposed to see there?
Other than the... sun.
"Oh..."
"Indeed..." he replied.
"But... how? If that was the case, why don't people know about it?" Iris asked.
"Because there is no way to directly use it. Unlike the rest of the stars, the sun is our home, it is so close to us that it affects us just as we affect it. But it only does so as a collective. It gives magic to the world, and some of us can use it, make it our own. But by virtue of this closeness, I suspect the magic of the sun has gained a sort of... will of its own. Call it... a collective unconscious. It is that which you deal with when performing free ritual—the only way we have of interfacing with its magic directly. Any other attempts to harness its free magic are bound to be met by failure, due to all the conflicting intent."
Iris took a second to process all that.
"Of course, this is just my theory, but I have been doing this for over eighty years now," he added with a shrug, then wandered over to the computer next to the row of monitors, clicked a few buttons, and brought up what looked like a star chart.
"The stars out there however are entirely untouched by our will, by our intent. They are raw magic. Very difficult to give shape, but also pure, no room for interference or possible conflicting intent."
Iris perked up. "But the effect the stars have are influenced by the position of the planets in our solar system! So you can use that to... achieve a specific effect somehow? Combined with the symbols you created?"
"That is part of it, yes. But mostly, other than power, no matter how the planets bend it, the stars offer us very little in terms of useable intent, or meaning. The biggest effect they have is on the magic we already have here, it influences the outcome of potions, rituals, all sorts of arcane applications. But this is mostly the arithmantic influence they have. And ritualistic symbols like the ones we create here only act to limit and refine the magic, they can do very little to shape the entirety of something as monolithic as stars. But there is another sort of influence, which is a lot harder to predict, at least, it is usually."
He was now staring at her expectantly, almost as if hoping she would figure it out for herself. God, wasn't she supposed to be on holidays? Not that she was complaining, mind you.
The stars were distant, nothing we could do would influence them directly, they were nothing but raw light, raw magic. But the planets in our solar system aren't. And if the collective human minds could affect our magic, our sun, and our sun could also affect our planets, then in turn, the effect our planets had on the stars could also be tied to...
"You wouldn't happen to be running an Astrology show as well?"
Mr. Stern was now clapping.
"Are you perhaps interested in an internship, Miss Blackwood?"
Iris blinked. She... what?
What was she supposed to say to that? If she was being honest, this all sounded rather fascinating. Exactly the kind of stuff she knew she'd enjoy doing. But...
"I'm sorry. I really need to go back home in a few days..." she replied with a forced smile.
"What a shame. But feel free to send me an owl or an E-mail if you do change your mind at some point," he replied, as if he had been expecting nothing else.
~V~
After spending some more time marveling at the monument to magical ingenuity, she had finally reluctantly had to call it quits. She needed at least half an hour back to the train station, unless she ran the whole way, or used the shadows. Both of which she really wanted to avoid. So far, she still hadn't cast any magic, and the longer it went on, the more irrationally worried she grew what would happen if she actually did.
Finally arriving at the train station, she quickly found the monitor and groaned. Of course, it was delayed again.
After grudgingly biding her time while finishing her book in the waiting area, the ICE to Berlin finally actually showed up, and even left as announced. Iris spent some time flipping through some of the other books she had brought, but nothing managed to catch her interest as the book on magical theory had done, and also, her mind was still whirling with all the revelations of the last hours.
With what Lockhart had done, and what Mr. Stern was still doing, she wondered what else could be done, if you could get enough people to believe something. Maybe it even had something to do with why V̷̰̘́̔ō̷̦͉͋ļ̷̏d̸͔̗̍͠e̴͖̼̓̓m̷̆̚͜ò̸̦̈́r̶͚̐͊t̷̤̂̇'s name was so powerful... Gah. Thinking the Name still gave her the shivers, but thinking of her own name seemed to help hold it at bay mostly.
Iris glanced out of the window, and up. The brightly glowing sun was staring back.
She had never noticed it before, but she wasn't sure how. Probably because it hurt to look directly at it. But through the blackened windows of the train, yes. It was very definitely pretty. So pretty it hurt to look at.
"Unser nächster Halt ist: Bielefeld Hauptbahnhof."
Finally.