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Author: Faelaern Story: Flotsam and Jetsam Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-DH Status: WIP Reviews: 11 Words: 46,036
“I’m assuming you have a particular Dark wizard in mind?” Harry asked. “I do at that,” said Jackob. “You have perhaps heard of Grindelwald?” “I…somewhere. History of Magic maybe? I don’t remember,” said Harry. “Grindelwald,” Hermione began in her best textbook voice, “was Hitler’s personal black magician. He waged war on the wizarding world and led many successful attacks here in England. He was finally brought down by Dumbledore in March of 1945.” “Very good, Miss Granger,” said Jackob, with a nod of approval. “Grindelwald was well known for boasting about his private library – both its size and the rarity of the volumes in his collection.” “Nobody’s tried to find it up to now?” Ron asked. Jackob smiled thinly. “Oh, plenty of people have tried to find it. Wizarding governments want to find it so they can keep the knowledge out of the wrong hands. And of course, certain less-than-savoury types want it for the Dark knowledge contained within. People have looked in various places – the Black Forest, in particular, and also the area around Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest in Bavaria. There was an expedition or two in Austria, and even one in Poland, which was Grindelwald’s base of operations in 1939. No-one ever found a trace of it.” “Great,” said Harry. “So what good does that do us?” “The whole lot of them seem to have forgotten a very basic point: Grindelwald was originally from Albania. He was already a powerful Dark sorcerer when he joined forces with the Nazis in 1934. I believe he had already acquired his library by then. I believe that it is in Albania. Further evidence that might go to support this… there are confirmed reports of Voldemort having spent years hiding out in an Albanian forest after his initial fall.” “So it’s in Albania then… maybe,” said Harry. Jackob nodded. “I’ve already got a friend in the area looking for it.” “Why haven’t you looked yourself?” asked Ron. “I took an oath. I don’t leave the tomb for more than two days without the express permission of someone of the Potter bloodline.” “I’ll go to Albania with you, but not if you expect me to take orders from you,” said Harry. Jackob seemed to think about this for a moment. Then he said, “I would acquiesce to a partnership of equals, if you’re willing? I command my men, but the lot of you work with me as partners?” “Done,” said Harry. “When do we leave?” “Hold tight, Harry,” said Ron. “Albania’s a big place. We might want to look into travel plans before we just Apparate in like we own the place.” “Well spoken, Mr Weasley, but as it stands, already taken care of,” said Jackob. “Grindelwald was born near what is today the village of Bajram Curri. He spent the first fifty years of his life in that region.” “That’s still a lot of ground to cover,” said Hermione. “Yes, it is,” said Jackob. “And this whole bit is so we can find a place that might – might- give us clues as to where another Horcrux is hidden?” Ron asked, incredulous. “If you’ve got a better idea, I’m open to suggestions,” said Jackob. “What about R.A.B.?” Ron asked. Harry shut his eyes in frustration, but he couldn’t very well chew Ron out for spewing secrets when he’d only just blurted to Jackob about the prophecy. “Who the hell is R.A.B.?” Aiden asked. Harry sighed. “The night Dumbledore was killed, he and I were out on a Horcrux hunt. We found one, or so we thought – Slytherin’s locket. But it turned out that the locket we found was a fake. There was a note with it, signed R.A.B. Whoever it was said they’d stolen the locket and were going to destroy it as soon as they could. It was clear that the writer intended to die soon after it was written.” “Well, I don’t know anyone bearing the initials R.A.B.,” said Jackob. “We ran a search of well known witches and wizards but didn’t come up with any matches that made sense,” said Hermione. “Given that information, we have two leads then, neither of them particularly good,” said Sully. “Aye, but our Albanian lead has a place associated with it, at least,” said Maxwell. “What do you want to do, Harry?” Ron asked. “We may as well go to Albania,” said Harry. “All right then,” said Jackob. “We’ll have to get a few things together before we can Apparate.” “Harry and Ron aren’t licensed to Apparate yet,” said Hermione. “I see,” said Jackob. “Well that’s easy enough to remedy – we can do Side-Along Apparation.” “Right,” said Ron. “What are we bringing, though, and where will we be staying?” “Aiden, our supply list?” Jackob said. “Extra clothes, maps, Maxwell’s bullets, a spare quiver of arrows, one M-79 grenade launcher, one RG-6 grenade launcher, two boxes of 40mm white phosphorous grenades, Maxwell’s sword, and my dagger.” “Why do you use antique firearms?” Hermione asked Maxwell, eyeing the weapons strapped to his person. “Because modern bullets won’t get past a shield charm – they bounce right off,” said Maxwell. “It takes silver bullets to do that.” “Well, couldn’t you just put silver bullets in a modern gun?” Hermione pressed. “No,” said Maxwell. “Life is not a horror film. The bullet must be made of pure silver to cut through the shield. The problem with silver bullets is that they are too soft to use in modern high-velocity firearms. Any type of weapon using metallic cartridges and elongated bullets just plain won’t work. Ever since the mid 19th century, bullets have been nickel-jacketed, and that’s no good. The nickel casing wouldn’t go through the shield, even with a silver core. Muskets and flintlock pistols aren’t picky about what metal they fire, though…anything you can mould into a ball really. So they’re the perfect tools of the trade.” “What happens if you run into an Inferius or a werewolf?” asked Ron. “Your Muggle gadgets aren’t about to bring them down.” “Aiden has one grenade launcher, I have the other,” said Maxwell, matter-of-factly. “Hang on,” said Harry, “If modern bullets won’t do anything against wizards, what do grenades do?” “Grenades make things blow up,” said Sully with a sarcastic smile, “And they are quite useful against Inferi, werewolves, giants, and other nasties that go bump in the night.” “But can they hurt wizards?” Hermione asked. “It depends,” said Aiden. “If I shoot a grenade at Sully here, and he sees it coming, he just waves his wand and turns it into a crayon or something. If I manage to get a shot off and no one sees it coming or does anything about it, then yes, it will blow a witch or wizard to kingdom come just like it will anybody else.” “Ah,” said Harry. “How long do you reckon this will take?” Ron asked. “I’ve no idea,” said Jackob. “We’ll be staying with a vampire friend of mine, Liogat.” “You’re sure you can trust him?” Ron asked. “Her,” said Jackob. “Bear in mind that we will be travelling in vampire country, Mr Weasley. It’s better to have allies among them than to go in entirely on your own.” “But we don’t know if the vampires are working for Voldemort,” said Harry. “Neither do we,” said Jackob. “But Liogat isn’t like that. Trust me, I’ve known her for years.” “You lot should head back into town and grab some clothes,” Aiden cut in. “Hey, how’d you know we were staying in town?” Ron asked. “I followed you after we saw you fly in last night,” said Aiden. Harry made a mental note to work on making stealthier entries when flying in to new locales. Aiden was correct, however; they would definitely need their gear if they were going to be staying in Albania. To that end, they bade Jacob and his men farewell and made their way down the long path from the church entrance to the town. When they were of sufficient distance from the door, Ron asked, “Do you think they’re following us now?” “At least one of them, yes, I’d stake my wand on it,” said Harry. “Where?” Hermione whispered. Harry shook his head. “I don’t know. They’re too good for me to pick up on them. I just don’t think Filch would let us out of his sights that easily.” “Weird, isn’t it, his being Filch’s cousin and all,” said Ron. “Yes,” said Hermione sceptically, “There is no resemblance at all, is there?” “Well, cousins don’t always turn out similarly,” said Harry, thinking of Dudley, and of Sirius and Bellatrix. “True,” said Hermione, but she didn’t look convinced. “Do you think we should trust him?” Ron asked. “No,” said Harry. “Then why are we going with him?” “Because I do believe he’s against the Death Eaters.” “So is Scrimgeour,” Hermione pointed out. “I don’t think Jackob would’ve put Stan Shunpike in Azkaban,” said Harry. “No, he’d have killed him and asked questions later,” said Hermione with a glare. “Maybe,” said Harry. “I don’t think so, though. For the moment, none of that matters. If they can help us find and destroy those Horcruxes, than I’m working with them.” “I don’t like it,” said Hermione softly. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable with it, I won’t ask you to come along,” said Harry, not unkindly. “Ron and I could go to Albania and meet you here afterwards.” Hermione looked hurt for a moment but composed herself and shook her head. “No, Harry. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.” Harry sighed exasperatedly. “I’m not trying to get rid of you, Hermione. I’m glad you’re here. I just don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.” “You can’t,” said Hermione. “I’m here because I want to be, and I’m going to Albania because I want to; I just don’t trust Filch, if that is really his name.” “We’ll watch each other’s backs,” said Harry. “And I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think I had to.” “I know,” said Hermione. They walked the remaining few streets in silence. It was 3:00 by Harry’s watch by the time they returned to the doors of the old stone church. Jackob, Sully, Aiden, and Maxwell were waiting for them on the stairs. Sully and Aiden both wore military-style rucksacks bulging with gear on their backs, and Maxwell carried a similarly-bulging duffle. Jackob looked out of place with a large blue suitcase in one hand. ”Ready to go?” Jackob asked. ”Yeah,” said Harry. “Let’s get this over with.” “All right,” said Jackob. Maxwell and Aiden linked arms with Sully, which would have looked comical if the three weren’t grim faced and armed to the teeth. There was a large crack and the three men disappeared. Harry stepped over and grabbed Jackob’s arm, while Ron took Hermione’s hand. There was a sudden blackness, followed by the now-familiar feeling of agonising compression, and then they were standing in the middle of a sunlit dirt road with thick pine forests on each side. Harry thought the sun was a bit lower in the sky than it had been when they were in England, and tried unsuccessfully to remember what the time difference was between Tirane and London. Jackob said something to Aiden and Sully using hand signals and they ran in opposite directions into the forests on either side of the road. Another hand motion and Maxwell circled around to take up the sweep position. “Where are we going?” Harry whispered to Jackob. “Liogat lives by herself in a cottage about a kilometre down the road from here,” Jackob whispered back. Harry nodded, drew his wand, and secured the shoulder strap on his duffle. He waited for Ron and Hermione to do the same, and then they set off down the path at a brisk walk. A short while later they came to a gap in the forest on the left side of the road. There stood an ornate-looking house, circular, with a large garden and a great wooden porch. Many dried herbs were hanging from the porch roof, and the heavy oaken door was slightly ajar. Jackob set his suitcase down, turned around, and made a single hand gesture. Maxwell set down his duffle bag and un-slung the musket from his back, bringing it up to bear on the doorway. Hefting his walking cane in one hand, and drawing his wand with the other, Jackob walked towards the front steps. Harry eased his duffle off his shoulder and followed, wand at the ready. Jackob paused on the front steps, staring at the slightly opened door. “I don’t like this.” “What is it?” Harry asked. “Something’s wrong,” said Jackob. Stepping to one side of the door, he motioned Harry to the opposite side. Moving quickly, he pushed the door open with his walking stick and entered the room. “Oh. Oh hell,” he exclaimed. Harry stepped into the doorway and gazed into the building. His stomach turned at the sight inside. The one room building was a scene of complete devastation. Various glasses and works of pottery were smashed on the floor; there were herbs scattered everywhere. Books lay at odd angles and there was dried blood coagulated on the walls. In the centre of the room there was a long wooden table, and at the table was seated a figure. A female figure that was plainly missing her head. The woman was garbed in white, and had high heels on her feet. Harry took a deep breath, steadying himself, trying not to be sick. It was then that he saw what had to be the woman’s head, on the floor several feet to the left of the body. It was cloaked in a burial shroud, but there was no mistaking its nature. That was enough to send Harry’s stomach over the edge; he turned and vomited onto the front porch. Ron and Hermione started to come forward, but he waved them back before vomiting again. Aiden and Sully came running out of the woods. Aiden had an arrow drawn and notched; Sully’s wand was in his hand. Maxwell stayed where he was, maintaining the sharpshooter’s pose he had adopted when Jackob had signalled to him. Jackob stepped out of the building and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You all right, lad?” Harry shook his head. “I…no…. what…?” “Not pretty, I know,” said Jackob. “But we’re going to have to search the cabin.” “You don’t think there could be Death Eaters watching?” Harry asked, coming back to himself. “I’m not at all certain it was Death Eaters that did this,” said Jackob. “Albania is a bad neighbourhood for the wizarding world, even if you’re a vampire. There are any number of nasty characters running about with no affiliation to the Dark Lord. And there was no Dark Mark.” “Well yeah,” said Harry, “but there wouldn’t be much point to putting it up here, in the middle of nowhere, would there?” “Perhaps not,” said Jackob. “Still, we’re going to have to look around a bit.” Harry looked back at Ron and Hermione, who were eying him with concern. “I don’t want them to see anything they don’t have to,” he said. “They can stand guard with my lads, then. You and I will go inside.” “Why me?” Harry asked. Jackob looked him in the eye. “Because you need to learn to get used to this sort of thing if you want to bring down Voldemort. I don’t think your friends are ready for this. You are. You have to be.” “All right,” said Harry. Together with Jackob, he walked inside. His eyes were inevitably drawn to the head on the floor. “Why the hell is she wearing a burial shroud?” he asked. “It doesn’t exactly make sense to treat a body with respect if you’ve just beheaded it.” “Oh, she always wore that,” said Jackob. “Family custom, I think.” “What are we looking for, exactly?” Harry asked. “Papers…a map. Anything that makes reference to Grindelwald. There’s a compartment under the floor board by her foot, we’ll start with that. Whoever killed her doesn’t seem to have found that, anyway.” Jackob walked over to where Liogat’s body was seated at the table, stepped to her left, and pointed his wand at the floor. A trail of sparks shot out of his wand and there was a great creak in the floor as one of the boards came loose. At that moment the headless corpse came alive, rising to its feet, its pale, bloodstained arms reaching upward for Jackob’s throat. Jackob reacted without a second’s hesitation. He brought his wand down in a slashing motion, pointing it at the left kneecap of the corpse while launching out a vicious low side kick at the right knee cap. There were two simultaneous crunching sounds as the kneecaps shattered. The corpse started to fall towards Jackob, reaching out its arms for his middle. He stepped back and launched out with another side kick, knocking the corpse back over the chair and onto the floor. With no functioning knee caps the corpse could not stand up, and as it started to propel itself towards Jackob on its arms, Harry stepped forward, raised his wand and intoned “Petrificus Totalis,” freezing it in place. “Well, well,” said Jackob. “We’ve got a necromancer on our hands.” “A what?” Harry asked. “It takes special training to create Inferi,” said Jackob. “The branch of magic that deals with that sort of thing is known as necromancy. It is not common, by any stretch of the imagination, though Voldemort himself is accomplished necromancer.” “He knows we’re here,” said Harry. “Don’t be ridiculous, if he knew that we’d likely already be dead,” said Jackob. “This corpse was ensorcelled to come to life when someone cast magic in the room – my spell to pry open the floorboards was the trigger.” “My spell’s not going to hold it forever,” said Harry. “True,” said Jackob. “And I’m not going to let Liogat’s body be abused any longer. Excuse me for a moment.” He stepped over the frozen Inferius and shut his eyes, pointing his wand down at it and speaking in a singsong chant. Harry didn’t recognise the language, it wasn’t English, or Latin, or any other he was familiar with. Jackob continued chanting for what had to have been a couple minutes. When he stopped and opened his eyes he looked very tired indeed. “What language was that?” Harry asked. “Egyptian,” Jackob said. “The old tongue, not the modern Arabic. It is a powerful spell, and an exhausting one. Tell…tell your friends to dig a hole in the garden. We’ll bury her there. And tell my lads to keep their eyes open. I…need to rest a moment. Then we’ll have a look at what was under the floorboard.” A/N: My information on Silver Bullets comes from ‘Encyclopaedia Of Things That Never Were’ by Michael Page and Robert Ingpen
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