The Traveler's Secret

CHAPTER 7: MISUNDERSTANDINGS

As they neared the school, Albus Dumbledore decided that it was time to lift the silencing spell that Johnny had placed on the Frenchman. He needed to be absolutely sure that this Jean Fulver was who he said he was. With a curt nod of Dumbledore's head, Johnny Wolfbane caught the message, and released Fulver. Sergei Krum, who sat next to Dumbledore, tensed up, his pale fingers digging into the carriage seat.

Jean Fulver's lips peeled back in anger, as a dark glimmer returned to his eyes. He never kept those eyes off of Sergei Krum. Dumbledore noted this, and carefully tucked it away into the folds of his mind. There was something that the young Frenchman had not told them, some part of his story that was left out.

"Where are you taking me?" snapped Fulver.

"To a safe place," answered Dumbledore.

"So what's next? Are you taking me to a torture camp to be put down? Or do you plan on 'questioning' me in the usual method?"

" I don't know of any torture camps around here, unless you consider a school to be a place of torture, of which my students would probably agree with you," Dumbledore paused, and watched as Jean Fulver's face turned, for a slight moment, into a mask of confusion. "As for questioning you, I think I will, considering what is at stake. I don't know what the 'usual method' is, so I will start by introducing myself and my American friend here. My name is Albus Dumbledore, which you already know, and I'm a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Sitting next to you is my American associate Mr. Johnny Wolfbane, a formidable man, not one to be taken lightly."

Johnny leaned in closer to Fulver. Fulver shifted away slightly, but not enough to indicate that the Frenchman was intimidated. And not once did the young man flinch. If Jean Fulver was anything, he wasn't a coward.

" 'School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?' Obviously you're speaking in code. I didn't know that England has spies working for the Germans. Let's stop talking in riddles. I know that Sergei Krum carries a parcel that he has stolen" (Sergei wasn't too pleased with being called a thief) "and I know he plans on selling it to the Germans. Now stop playing games, and tell me where you're taking me!" Fulver responded.

The air sizzled with Jean's lingering words. Either Fulver was very smart, and knew how to misdirect an opponent, or he really was a soldier that got mixed up in the middle. Dumbledore believed that Jean believed that Sergei was a spy, but Albus still couldn't put together how Fulver knew of Sergei to begin with. There was something still missing from the story.

"I'm not talking in code. I'm a Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that takes young kids, and teaches them how to control their gift, the magic that they can do."

"Magic?! There's no such thing as..." Jean let the rest of the sentence die out.

He knew that what he had been about to utter was not true if what he had seen was to be trusted. Jean was still debating on whether or not what he had seen Dumbledore and Wolfbane do had been real, or if he was losing his sanity. Never before had he ever doubted his mental state. In fact, he had always relied on his good sense and ability to see the truth in things on more than one instance. So what was the truth now? Jean tried to reason out and rationalize away what he had seen Dumbledore and Wolfbane do, what they had done to him. He remembered charging out the back door of the pub, remembered the chilling feeling that had passed over him. Johnny Wolfbane had stood just outside the door, his wand at the ready. Sergei was on the ground, cowering, looking at something that was behind Fulver. Just as Jean was about to turn around, the Professor had seemingly appeared out of the very rain that had been falling around them. Jean couldn't find a logical reason to explain that away. The young Frenchman turned to the waiting Professor, making sure that he was really there. Dumbledore was still there, his keen blue eyes watching Jean, allowing him to process everything he had seen.

"What you did behind the pub, the creatures of light you made, that was..." Jean couldn't bear to say what he knew to be impossible. Magic was the bread and butter of fairy tales that young children read, not a real functioning reality in this world.

"Magic," Dumbledore finished. "They were what we wizards call Patronuses, protective spells against Dementors. Mine was the phoenix and Mr. Wolfbane's was the bear."

Jean hadn't understood a word that the man with the half-moon spectacles had said, except maybe phoenix and bear. No one else in the carriage seemed surprised, or confused about what was said, no one else, but him. Jean still hadn't ruled out that they were speaking in code. And now a frightening new possibility opened up. What if they had some unknown type of technology, and were referring to it in a code language as "magic"?

"Listen, I don't have time to explain to you the magical world that you have stepped into, and the dire situation at hand," Dumbledore started. "Magic does exist. We used it right in front of you. No, we're not taking you to be tortured. No, we're not working with the enemies, and yes, I know you're hiding something you haven't told us!"

Jean Fulver paled slightly, but it was enough to indicate that Dumbledore had hit close to the truth. Jean remained silent, his blue eyes veiled in puzzlement and concealment, never looking away from Dumbledore. He was reevaluating the Professor, and Dumbledore gave him the time to do it.

"I am a French soldier who has received information that this man"-- and Jean pointed to Sergei-- "has important battle plans, which he intends to sell to the Germans. I know he has them, and I know you, Monsieur Dumbledore, are in league with him, which makes you the enemy! I don't have time for games either. I just want Sergei and the plans!"

Wolfbane chuckled at Fulver's boldness. He watched as the stalemate grew.

Dumbledore was unexpectedly impressed by the man. He had to give Fulver credit for his keen perception. But Dumbledore still debated on whether or not Fulver was a threat. Should they have wiped Fulver's memory clean at the Leaky Bucket and left? But that would have meant that the Dementors would have had a nice little snack left behind, and even Dumbledore wouldn't wish a Dementor's kiss on his worst enemy. No, the Professor had to admit that, for one reason or another, he trusted this young Muggle soldier. There was truth to his story, even if it wasn't the absolute truth.

The tinkling of the rain on the roof became all the more louder in the growing silence. The clop of the horses' footsteps were dull drums as they rose and fell in the mud and water. Thunder rolled through the night air around them, intensifying the atmosphere inside the carriage.

"Mr. Fulver..." Dumbledore started.

He didn't finished the sentence because, at that moment, the coach came to a lurching halt. The rain had turned from a soft melody, to a thundering hiss of discord. Dumbledore looked at Wolfbane, who, with a nod of his head, peaked out the window.

Johnny Wolfbane quickly pulled his head back in and shook it, sending sprays of rain over Fulver. He hadn't seen anyone, but he could sense someone nearby. Dumbledore pulled out his wand as did Wolfbane. Both Sergei and Fulver tensed up, and waited. Nothing happened at first. No approaching footsteps, or noise of any kind were being made. The night had sucked up its windy breathe in anticipation, leaving only a void.

The dark waited outside.

Johnny Wolfbane raised his wand to the carriage door as he pushed it open, and got out. Quietly Wolfbane shut the door behind him, and landed in the mud with unnatural ease and unfathomable silence. The rain plastered Johnny's long hair to his body as he stood there watching and listening. His senses were on high alert. Johnny walked forward in a half crouch, his muscles tensed and ready to spring forward into whatever shape he could muster. He could feel his body changing as adrenaline flooded through him. Wolfbane's nose caught more scents in the air than a normal human. He could smell the horses' sweat as it mixed with the rain and their warm fear. He could hear the impatient stamp of their hooves as they wanted to go forward, but found they couldn't. He could taste the thickening silence with his tongue as he tasted the air.

And that's when he caught the different scent, one that shouldn't be there.

Johnny froze, lowering himself closer to the ground. The scent he caught was definitely human, and whoever it came from was standing right in front of the coach, right where he nor Dumbledore could see them. They seemed to be holding the horses at bay, almost as if they were waiting. Johnny moved forward. He could feel his muscles as they thickened. Already his hands were darkening as thick hair started to grow all over his body, and his eyes were flickering between violet and yellow. He slid his wand into a secret compartment in his vest. As he neared the horses, they nervously jittered away from him.

"Whoa, easy there. This won't take long," said an unfamiliar voice.

No, it wouldn't, thought Johnny.

He crept closer to the newcomer who held the horses at a standstill, and finally got a look at the intruder. It was a man dressed entirely in black, tall and gangly, with large drooping black eyes and an anemically pale face. With a wand in his hand, the stranger stood in the rain, alert and waiting, but he wasn't looking at Johnny or the carriage. He watched the road behind them, waiting for reinforcements, and wondering why no one had gotten out of the carriage yet.

A bruised sky surrounded them as hard bullets of rain fell. Johnny stealthily moved through the night, getting closer and closer to the man in black, his large paws barely making a sound as he glided from shadow to shadow. He was now a huge wolf, his muscles rippling under a thick coat of black fur. Cold spurts of breath slithered out from behind long curved teeth. Despite how big he was, the wolf was agile and quick, closing the gap between him and the intruder. He had circled behind the man, without being seen or heard.

When he was just the right distance away to pounce, the stranger in black must have caught movement out the corner of his eye, because he suddenly spun around, his wand and its pulsing light pointed at the wolf. Stunned by sight of the wolf behind him, the man could hardly speak a word, his eyes wide in fear, his mouth a dark hole of shock. Horror oozed over his face, and Johnny could smell the intruder's terror.

The man raised his wand, and shot a spell at the wolf, aiming to kill, but hit nothing, but night. Johnny was now on the side of him, a deep rumble of a growl boiling out of his throat. When the man turned, the growl intensified as Wolfbane bared his fangs, and began snapping his large jaw. Johnny paced back and forth, getting ready to pounce.

Then the man in black smiled as he saw something behind Johnny, something the wolf had no time to turn and see. Before Wolfbane knew it, he was hit by a stunning spell, and his body hit the ground hard.

Black boots strode past him belonging to a middle aged woman dressed in a red cloak. She was plump, and had, what seemed to be, a permanent scowl etched on her stony face. Not once did the woman take notice of the fallen wolf. Instead she turned her attention to the carriage. The man in black, on the other hand, was not interested in the carriage anymore.

"Look at the big bad wolf now. I'm going to have fun with you!" said the man as he moved towards the wolf. An evil leer stretched across the man's bony face, turning it into a mask of death. His crooked, yellow teeth made him look less human than before.

"Take care of the dog quickly, while I watch the carriage," said the woman in red. "Our backup should be here soon. I can't believe that they were guarding my dear Squib of a cousin with only a dog. There's someone else in this, someone Grindelwald told us to be careful of because he was the strongest wizard in England. I'm not going to take that warning lightly."

The man in black hardly listened to the woman as he crouched down next to Johnny. He put his wand away, and pulled out a knife. Chuckling, the man waved the knife in front of Johnny's eyes, then slashed at one of Johnny's front legs, leaving a red line of blood. Johnny growled more in anger than in pain. Inside, Johnny let the electric line of pain pass through him. What the man in black didn't know was that spells wore off faster on Wolfbane then on normal humans. Even now he could feel the power of the spell ebb from him as feeling came back to his muscles. The man in black's eyes gleaned with evil as he sliced a deeper cut into Johnny's other front leg.

"Boris!" screamed the woman. Boris, the man in black, looked up.

"Just finish the dog up already!" She spat the word dog out as if it were bile.

It was only a few seconds, tiny moments that the man had taken his eyes off of the wolf, and turned them to his counterpart. But that was all that Johnny needed. Johnny leapt up from the ground, snapping at Boris, his jaws just missing the man in black as the wolf landed on his feet at an awkward angle. Boris yelped as he stumbled backwards from Johnny, managing somehow to stay on his feet.

The wolf, still a bit sluggish, paced back and forth, shaking his head to clear it from the spell. Boris tossed his knife to the ground, and yanked his wand out of his pocket. But the woman behind him was already shooting spells at the wolf, which hit only dirt as the wolf slipped around them. The shadows hid the huge beast as if they melted into his very coat. Only the lightening lit up Wolfbane, showing the newcomers that the wolf had changed position on them. Both strangers began shooting spells at the beast, frustrated that nothing seemed to hit the wolf, or even affect the nightmarish creature.

What the woman in the red cloak didn't see was Dumbledore standing in the rain behind her, his wand aimed at her back. Instead of hitting her square in the back, he blasted a warning spell past her head. She froze, and slowly turned to face a furious Dumbledore.

Now two battles waged, Boris and Johnny and the woman in red and Dumbledore. Spells singed the rain and shot up mud as they hit the ground. Deflected spells burned holes in the nearby trees and bushes. Everyone had their wands whirling so fast through the air that they were blurs, everyone except Johnny.

Johnny the wolf moved around Boris like a dust storm. It infuriated Boris, which made the man's aim worse. Johnny kept testing his boundaries, how close he could get to Boris, looking for one tiny mistake, and then he would have the man in black.

The moment for Johnny came at an unexpected time, as both man and wolf froze, and watched the battle between Dumbledore and the woman in red. Something or rather someone, unexpectedly interrupted their battle. Unfortunately, it didn't help Dumbledore out in the least bit.

Albus was easily deflecting the woman's curses. She was good, he had to give her that, but she was too aggressive, and had no finesse, like blindly swinging a big club back and forth. Of course, if she were lucky, she would be able to hit something. Eventually.

But she saw Sergei before Dumbledore did.

Dumbledore only realized that Sergei had gotten of the carriage, and was standing right behind him when the man spoke.

"Marabella?!" Sergei exclaimed.

Dumbledore turned towards Krum in surprise, and was caught off guard as a stunning spell clipped his shoulder. Albus fell to the ground, his wand arm momentarily numbed. He hadn't received the full force of the spell, but it still incapacitated him long enough to watch the woman point her wand at Sergei.

Everything slowed down, even the fall of the rain. Albus saw the tiniest of smiles edge the woman in red's lips. He saw Wolfbane and Boris freeze a few feet away. But most of all he saw the wide eyed fear in Sergei's eyes as he stood helplessly under the point of Marabella's wand, too startled to move.

"Prente!" she screamed triumphantly, and then added, "Accio plans!"

She waited for something that didn't happen. Her arrogant smile turned to an enraged and puzzled snarl.

Dumbledore felt cool pinpricks of rain as feeling returned to his wand arm. He raised himself up, and aimed his wand at the woman in red, who looked as if she planned on repeating whatever it was she had done before. As Dumbledore was uttering his counter spell, a blast shook the air around them as a bullet sped past him, and hit the woman in the shoulder.

Dumbledore sat up, and turned to see Jean Fulver standing next to Sergei, his cold blue eyes looking down on the woman, who had fallen to the ground. The pistol in Jean Fulver's hand still sent up spirals of smoke in the rain. Sergei shirked away from the Frenchman.

A strangled scream pierced the night, and then suddenly ended. It hadn't come from the wounded woman, but from Boris who was pinned to the ground by Johnny a few feet away, and looked to be having his throat ripped out.

Silence fell amongst the four men and wounded woman, a foreboding void that seemed to mute the crash of thunder around them. A collective breath was sucked into each of the companion's breast, as realization and understanding of the danger they had just avoided, and the danger that was coming, began to percolate in their minds.

Dumbledore stood up shakily, and glared at Sergei. He couldn't fathom what Krum could have been thinking when he got out of the carriage. The enemy had been too close to getting the plans, and now a new worry had cropped up in Dumbledore's mind. How had this Marabella and the man in black known to wait on this particular road for them? It wasn't a road commonly used to get to Hogwarts, hence why it was chosen. Dumbledore found the implications of this question to be nauseating. Someone close had let their location slip. He began thinking of all the people it could have been, running their names and faces through his mind. He hardly noticed Jean Fulver as he marched over to the woman on the ground.

Marabella had landed a few feet back from where she had been shot. Dumbledore doubted that she had ever seen a gun before nor had ever feared it, until tonight. The woman was wounded, but not on death's door. Dumbledore knew she could give useful information. Fulver must have thought the same thing. He pointed his gun at her, no doubt planning to finish the job, if she so much as moved an inch. Her wand had fallen from her hand, and lay a foot away from her. She writhed in pain and fierce Russian words spilled out of her mouth. Seeing that Marabella was no longer a threat, Dumbledore turned from the woman on the ground, to his American friend, and the now dead man in black.

A few feet away from Dumbledore, Johnny stood over the dead man, looking down on his adversary in triumph. Wolfbane noticed Dumbledore was watching him, and quickly moved off of Boris. He turned his great big head up to the drowning sky, allowing the water to wash down his muzzle. He stood there for a few minutes, and then loped towards Dumbledore and Sergei, his body returning back to normal, the shadows hiding his transformation. When he had arrived by Dumbledore's side, he was back to his normal self, excepting two large gashes on his forearms, and some unseemly splashes of blood on his vest. The rain had washed the rest of him clean.

"The woman spoke of backup. We have to go," Johnny said. He started to walk back to the carriage.

Sergei crept close to Marabella, and then glared at Fulver, suddenly aware that the Frenchman had a gun in his hand. Krum whipped his head back around, his large, black eyes now filled with anger as he looked at Dumbledore.

"You didn't think to check Fulver for weapons?!" Sergei snapped.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes in disdain, but it was Johnny who was angry. Wolfbane had been stopped in his tracks by Sergei's question, ripples of anger oscillating down his body. Johnny stalked over to the Sergei, who suddenly seemed to realize how dangerous the American could really be.

"You didn't think to tell us that you knew this woman, this Marabella? What else have you 'forgotten' to tell us?" he snarled.

Dumbledore, who had been silent in thought, walked over to Johnny, and laid a calming hand on his friend's shoulder.

Anger did ripple through Dumbledore, anger at himself, anger at Sergei's lack of sense, anger at the entire situation. But he had pushed that anger down, trying to hold it in as he best he could. He knew that Sergei was partially right. Albus should have checked the Frenchman for weapons, though he had little experience with Muggle weaponry.

Dumbledore was also puzzled with the Frenchman. He still couldn't understand why Jean Fulver had stepped in, and saved Sergei Krum. By the look on Fulver's face, the Muggle was having a hard time understanding this as well. Something had changed in both Dumbledore and Fulver. Dumbledore had always felt that Fulver was not evil or bad, had an inkling that the Muggle had only been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even though he knew that Fulver was not telling them everything, he also knew that Fulver did what was right and necessary when the choice had to be made. He was a good ally to have. Dumbledore now had a plausible reason to trust Jean Fulver.

"There's no point in arguing here. Let's get moving before their backup arrives. Johnny please release the horses from the spell their under," Dumbledore calmly said as he pushed himself between Wolfbane and Sergei. Both men backed down from the standoff they had been in, Sergei out of fear and Wolfbane out of respect. Jean Fulver still stood guard over the fallen woman, whose moans of pain grew louder by the second. Soon everyone would know where they were.

Johnny strode off towards the carriage again, his hulking figure disappearing in the rain as he neared the horses.

"Mr. Fulver, Mr. Krum, please get back into the carriage."

"What about Marabella?" Sergei asked nervously.

Dumbledore looked down on the pale, groaning woman. Anger glimmered in her eyes, shimmering in between moments of pain. Fulver had not once taken his eyes off the woman, who now looked at the Muggle soldier in loathing. But it wasn't Dumbledore who answered Krum's question.

"What about her?" Jean Fulver responded. "She attacked us. She's the enemy. Let her be found by her backup. It would be best if we didn't leave any loose ends."

Fulver cocked his gun, aiming it at Marabella's head. Sergei started forward, horrified.

"You can't shoot my cousin!" he blurted out.

"Cousin?!" Albus barked.

It was Dumbledore who was angry this time. He glared down on Sergei, seeming to grow taller by the moment. He was angry because he should have figured this out earlier. The pieces were falling into place around him, and Dumbledore suspected he was the only one who could see how much more dangerous their situation had become.

Before he could say more, Johnny had come back, slightly less irate, telling them that the horses were ready. His head zipped back and forth between Dumbledore and Sergei, understanding that something important had transpired the short time he was gone.

Dumbledore pointed an angry, shaking finger at Sergei's chest.

"You have got a lot of explaining to do. Let's go!" Dumbledore stormed over to the carriage, followed by Johnny, then Fulver and lastly by Sergei. They got in and were off in a matter of minutes, disappearing over the next hill.

After they had gone, Marabella lifted her wand, and weakly sent up sparks. Ten minutes later, a man appeared next to her. He picked her up, and Disapparated away.