The Traveler's Secret

CHAPTER 15 SERGEI KRUM'S HEART

Sergei Krum's body ached everywhere. The pain from the blueprints inside him had lessened and increased in different ways. The weight of this horrible secret he carried had diminished with his meeting with Dumbledore, but the Professor hadn't been able to find a way of detaching the plans from Sergei without killing him. He did, on the other hand, find a way in making the blueprints useless to anyone who tried to read them, even Sergei.

Krum guessed that was good enough, but the experimental spells that Dumbledore had used on him had brought excruciating pain. This new plan of Dumbledore's was not fully complete, and Krum was going to have to endure a few more sessions of Dumbledore tinkering with the Krum family spell. All Sergei could think of, as the pain had rolled through him, was saving his wife and son from a horrible fate. He hated the idea of carrying the deplorable blueprints inside him for the rest of his life, but he would do it if it meant that he could keep it out of the hands of Grindelwald. And at least they now had a way to thwart the Dark Lord, even if it wasn't the way Sergei Krum had expected.

Sergei walked out of the castle, aware that he was shadowed by Wolfbane. He knew that the American would never be too far from him, and may not have been far from him since he had arrived. Krum felt a gnawing pain in his legs as he limped out into the sunlight. He needed to walk, needed to feel the sun and the soft summer wind. He needed to see the rolling green hills around him, and to hear the tinkling laughter of innocent children as they enjoyed the fine weather. He wasn't sure how long such beauty would last in these dark times, and it agonized him to think that he may be bringing danger to these children.

Sergei watched a young boy and girl skip down to the hill towards the golden flecked lake, and Krum found himself compelled to follow. The pain lessened the more he walked, or maybe it was the joy of life around Sergei that so invigorated him. Dumbledore's experiments, the constant fear that clawed up his insides, the aching memories of his wife and child, and of course, those loathsome blueprints had begun to take a toll on him. Sergei barely recognized the hollow eyed skeleton that looked back at him every time he looked into a mirror. He had wanted to get out, to breath and see that somewhere in the world real beauty still existed.

Krum found himself next to the lake. Spotting a large willow near its edge, Sergei limped over the tree, and sat in its cool shade. The lake seemed to be the hot spot for the students of Hogwarts. Everywhere, children were running, laughing and chattering away. They splashed in the water, or played blind man's bluff, or just sat and talked. Sergei, being an adult and a stranger, sat alone under the willow, and watched them. He wasn't affronted by the solitude. On the contrary, he liked being able to watch the children as they enjoyed the last moments of the school year. Soon all these kids would be home, and this place would lose a little bit of its life. He saw a small boy near him frolicking joyously as shimmers of butterflies followed him. A little farther from Sergei he listened to a group of girls as their laughter melded into the summer air.

Sadness and loneliness lingered in him though, reminding him of the good life he had led before he had learned of the blueprints. It may not have been a life filled with magic, as he had always yearned for before, but it had been a good, peaceful life. He had found love wider than the universe, and his heart throbbed in pain every time he thought of his family. It was a wound that he had carried with him from Russia, worse than anything that had happened to him since he had arrived in England. This was a ripping of his insides, or, at times, a hollowing feeling of despair. Sometimes the ache became too much, and he would curl up with the memory of his family happy and safe as the only salve. He would repeat to himself over and over again that he wouldn't fail, couldn't fail. He would kill himself first before Grindelwald would get these plans, but the idea of his death caused him fear, though never for himself.

He was worried about his wife and son, wondering if they would understand. Would they know that he had loved them, and he had died for them? Or would he die alone and forgotten as so many have in this war?

Sergei Krum tried to distract himself from the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm him. He had many ways of keeping his mind sane. Interacting with people, even ones he disliked, seemed to work the best, and Jean Fulver had been the only one lately, besides Tom Jr., he could talk to. He hated admitting that the infuriating Frenchman had grown on him. It seemed the Muggle was the only one who could really understand how Sergei felt. Neither one of them could do magic, but instead of feeling helpless and impotent, Jean Fulver had felt emboldened. He wasn't afraid of magic as Sergei Krum was, but then, the Frenchman hadn't lived all his life with people who knew how to do some of the darkest and cruelest magic.

Sergei had, but Krum found he was more courageous and alive when he was around Jean Fulver. The Muggle lived his life on the edge of an abyss, walking its fine line with ease. He would look down into the darkness, and see how far the fall from the edge could be, but he would never stop walking along that edge. Sergei Krum wished he could live like that, unafraid of nothing, but himself.

Krum wondered where Fulver was right now, what he was doing. He had felt slightly abandoned when he had come from Dumbledore's office, and saw a stoic Johnny Wolfbane, and no one else. The American wasn't much of a talker, and Sergei felt nervous around such a powerful wizard. He couldn't imagine the American anything less than frightening.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe he needed alone time to think, but Sergei Krum knew that that was the last thing he wanted to do. At least Jean Fulver had kept Krum's mind occupied with annoyance and intrigue from the real worries that plagued him.

It was worse at night. The images of his wife and his young son had come to haunting his dreams. His dreams had turned to nightmares lately, because he saw what would happen if he failed, and Grindelwald got a hold of the blueprints. He saw his wife and son dead in a flash of light, and every time he would be awoken to a strangled scream that was trying to claw its way out of his throat.

Before he had come to England, the dream had always faded, and had eventually disappeared, but after the Dementor attack at the Leaky Bucket, and the deadly encounter on the road to Hogwarts, the nightmares had worsened. Now the dead faces of his wife and son lingered on in his memories in the morning. This morning they had followed him all the way to the Great Hall. Only Fulver's irritating and rude reaction to Krum had turned his mind from his nightmare.

He needed to be distracted. Krum turned around, looking for Johnny Wolfbane, who had followed him from the castle, but didn't see the man anywhere. Disheartened by the fact that even the American was nowhere to be found, Sergei Krum felt himself falling into the dark realm inside him. His heart raced as the impeding ache for his family that usually came at night, now loomed over him.

That was when he heard the odd chirping near him. When he looked down, an abnormally large grasshopper sat next to him in the grass. Sergei made a move to shoo the bug away, but found that maybe even a bug was better company to have than his mind at the moment. He could even talk to it, not that the creature would know, or understand what it was he said, but at least Sergei would be able to get his mind off of his family's fate.

"Out enjoying the fine weather Mr. Grasshopper?" asked Sergei.

A shrill chirp responded, and Sergei laughed at this. He was surprised by his reaction, finding very little in the past couple months to have joy in. It wasn't much, but the grasshopper did make him feel better.

"So am I. It seems like I haven't seen the sun for ages, but I'm sure you're use to this English weather much better than I would be," continued Sergei.

Chirp.

"Besides enjoying the weather what else do you do all day? Eat and watch us bumbling humans I assume."

Chirp, Chirp.

"You're a talkative one aren't you?" Sergei said as he chuckled.

Krum had become so enthralled by his tiny new friend, that he had not seen Jean Fulver as the Frenchman loped down the hill towards him. Fulver stopped a few feet from Sergei, a look of worry and irritation slowly falling from his face as he watched Krum. An impish grin started to take its place. He crept up on Sergei Krum.

"I must admit that I hadn't expected the foul weather to clear so quickly," Sergei said, this time leaning down towards the grasshopper.

"I hope you're not expecting an answer Krum because you may be disappointed," said Jean Fulver sarcastically. "I expect the bug would tell you that you're a bore!"

Sergei spun around to face Fulver. Krum found he was more angry than embarrassed. He felt as if the Muggle had intruded into something very private.

"And I suspect the Grasshopper would tell you that you're a rude, irritating man with a complete lack of decorum," Sergei responded. He knew it wasn't a good comeback, and blushed because of it.

Fulver stepped closer, a look of surprise and mischief on his face. Krum could almost see the wheels of Jean Fulver's delinquent mind turning, and Sergei dreaded what was coming, but it seemed Fulver wasn't in the mood for verbal retaliation.

"That all you got for me?" Fulver said as he plopped down on the ground next to Sergei. Krum had expected more of an attack, or some rude comment, and was disquieted by how much Fulver had changed. Jean remained silent, looking out over the lake. Maybe, Sergei thought, maybe Fulver has other things on his mind as well.

Without looking at Krum, Jean said, "I think I may have sat on your little bug friend!"

Sergei knocked Fulver over to his side, searching the ground where the grasshopper had once been. He didn't see the creature, or any indication that the bug had been squashed. Jean Fulver, now on his side in the grass, was laughing. It wasn't a sarcastic laugh as Krum was used to hearing from the Muggle, but a lighthearted laugh. Krum couldn't help, but be reminded of his son again. His son use to laugh like that, so heartily and full of life. Krum quickly turned away from Fulver, trying to hide the tears that had formed on the edge of his eyes, but he hadn't turned fast enough.

"It's not that big of a deal. It's just a bug!" Fulver said sarcastically.

"It's not the bug. It's you!" Sergei snapped, and immediately regretted it because Jean Fulver looked at Krum in a mixture of incredulity and slight irritation.

"What the hell did I do besides squash your little friend? Not that I care. Cry like a little girl if you want!" Fulver snapped back.

Sergei sighed, and looked away. He had such a despairing look on his face that Jean Fulver began to feel the familiar claw of guilt. Jean was not use to Sergei's lack of response, and was definitely not use to the look of pain and sorrow on the man's face. He knew Krum was an anxious creature with a dark past, but this was more than that. As Fulver watched Krum, he could see pain, physical and emotional pain, wash over the man.

"I didn't mean it when I called you a little girl...I'm sorry about the bug...Look there's no need to act like this..." Fulver stuttered, a little appalled by this new groveling he was not use to doing.

Jean Fulver had always had an acidic tongue, but never before had he felt any guilt over it, mostly because the people he spoke to deserved some of the sarcasm he gave them. This was different. Fulver knew he had said something, or done something really hurtful towards Krum, and this was starting to make him feel guilt. Maybe the Russian has grown on you. Maybe you are beginning to see him as a friend, Jean's inner consciousness stated matter of factually. Jean tried to turn the idea away, but found that he really couldn't dismiss a truth when it was right in front of him. It had been gradual, but Sergei Krum had grown on Fulver.

"It's not about the bug, or really about you. Well, it is about you in a way. Just a moment earlier you reminded me of my son, and I haven't fully controlled my emotions when it comes to my family," Sergei said, his face tightening as he tried to control those emotions now.

Jean Fulver was stunned to hear that Krum had a son. It had never occurred to Fulver that this man would have a family. He had always seen Krum as this faceless enemy, whose actions were responsible for Marius' death, but somewhere out there a wife and a son were waiting for Krum, wondering if they would ever see their husband and father again.

"You have a son? I didn't know that," Fulver said, his tone gentler than normal.

Krum turned around to face Fulver. Sergei hadn't expected the change in the Frenchman's tone of voice. Suddenly Sergei saw a side of Fulver that he had never fully seen before; he saw sympathy. Krum smiled. Years seem to slip away from Sergei's face, and the Russian no longer looked haunted, or like a man on the brink of despair.

"My son will be four next month. I was hoping that Dumbledore would have had a way to separate the plans from me by then, and that my family would have been safely brought to England. I was hoping to see my boy for his birthday. He's getting so big, and already is showing signs of magical aptitude. My wife and I are so excited about this. Now it seems I will have to wait awhile longer to see my family. I can't bring them to England now, not when they would be in more danger around me than if they were away from me," Sergei said.

Jean Fulver said nothing, unsure how to respond. He tried to look anywhere, but at Krum. Hearing the man talk of his family brought out more guilt in Fulver, because he had planned on killing Krum not too long ago. Now the idea of Sergei Krum dead seemed so abhorrent to Fulver. Jean looked down, and saw that a large grasshopper was sitting next to him. Sergei Krum's little friend was still alive, and seemed to be listening to the conversation as well.

"Do you have a family Fulver, someone you left behind in France?" Krum asked.

The Muggle looked up, surprised by the question. Fulver had never been asked that by anyone. Most people assumed he was a lone wolf, and had always been one. Fulver was, in a way, that very image. Besides Marius and Sergei, he had never really made a lot of friends, and his family had always been small.

"I have a mother who works in a French bakery. She makes the most wonderful bread. I use to wake up to the smell of it every morning. My father is, was, a carpenter. He passed away recently. Since I am the only child, it's just my mother and I now."

"Didn't you have any friends?" Krum asked.

"If you haven't noticed, I tend to rub people the wrong way a lot. Not that I care if I do. I stopped caring what people thought of me a long time ago. As for friends, Marius was the closest friend I had. We use to get into so much trouble when we were younger, that my mother swore that we had been raised by monkeys, and had escaped from a zoo."

Jean fell silent. He felt odd talking about Marius to Sergei, almost as if he was betraying his old friend.

"Is Marius the friend who was killed in Russia, at...at my family's manor?"

"Yes," Jean said stonily. He wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about this anymore.

"How did he die?" Krum asked.

Jean debated on whether or not he should tell the truth. He decided that Sergei wasn't really responsible for what had happened to Marius, but all the same he felt awkward talking to Krum about it.

"He was shot coming out of your house by your family's menservants. By the time I realized what had happened, he was beyond any help."

"I'm sorry about your friend. My family can be ruthless, as you saw with Marabella."

"Do you happen to know the name of the menservants who shot him. They were tall..." Jean started.

"No, Fulver. That wasn't my house," Sergei said.

"What do you mean that wasn't your house? You lived there right?" Jean asked.

He sat up, his interest piqued by Krum's answer. Krum seemed to be made uncomfortable by the question.

"It is the Krum family manor, but my father, mother and I were disowned by the family, because I was a Squib. The only reason why I went back there was because the family was suspicious that something was going on between my Uncle and I over the plans, and they forced me to stay in the manor. They were right of course, but I have never called that hateful place home. It holds some of my worst memories there. You have no idea what it's like to be exiled by your own family," Sergei said, a dark cloud settling into his rough features.

Krum was right. Jean Fulver had never had to face that. Though Fulver had come from a working class family, who struggled to make ends meet, he had still been loved and cherished.

"What about your mother and father? Surely they didn't feel that way," Fulver asked.

"No, my mother and father willingly took the exile. They loved me more than anything. Maybe it was because I was their only child, but they weren't going to allow me to feel bad because I couldn't do any magic. I had thought it had only been them whom felt that way, because for a long time, I never really saw the rest of the family. Sometimes I would see Marabella, but my Uncle Vladimir, the one who helped me escape, was one of the few who didn't think badly of me because of what I was."

"You're damn right he shouldn't have been ashamed. I really can't stand the people who feel the need to push onto others their ideology. Like this war with Germany. This racial cleansing business is a load of horse shit. We're all human, and we all should be treated as equals. It's sad to hear that that type of hatred has found its way into your world Sergei. I had hoped that by joining the war, that I could do my part in stopping such hatred," Jean stated.

"You make it sound like this racial purity ideology is a new thing for the world of magic," Sergei replied. "I'm sorry to say this, but this type of thinking has been in the wizarding world for centuries. There have always been people who hated or distrusted those who are Muggle-born wizards like the bartender's son Tom, or Squibs like me. It's just recently that Grindelwald has brought that hatred to the next level. The wizarding world has always existed alongside the Muggle world, and has always tried to remain hidden from Muggle eyes. Grindelwald is spreading around the idea that wizards should rule over Muggles for their own good. Muggle-borns and Squibs throw the idea that wizards are superior into disarray. They are the first to be targeted by Grindelwald. He won't allow any other type of viewpoint to exist, but his. We live in dark times Fulver, with very little hope to keep us going."

Jean contemplated on what Sergei had said. He knew that it was a similar situation in the Muggle world. The hateful ideology of racial purity, and the idea that some were more deserving than others to rule, had always had a place in Muggle history. It was only recently that that ideology had become a monster that was out of control. Sergei was right about the times being dark, but Fulver didn't agree in the hope part. There was still hope, even when it seemed like everything good had gone.

"You're wrong Sergei. There's still hope in this world. You're living proof of it. I have a feeling that the world will get darker, but sooner or later we will come out of it, and see sunlight again. You'll see your family again Krum," Jean said.

Sergei shifted uneasily. He looked out over the lake, his eyes resting on its smooth surface as it turned from gold to the pinks and purples of evening.

"I hope so, but sometimes I get this feeling that my time is running out, that I will never see them again," Sergei said.

Fulver was at a loss for words again. He didn't want to make a promise to a man who in all probability was right in his prognosis, but he didn't want Sergei to give up hope either. Giving up hope, and allowing despair to take over was worse than death. It was a living death.

"You will see them, even if it isn't in this lifetime," Jean finally responded.

Sergei turned to Fulver, and gave him a genuine smile, a thanks. Fulver had given Krum the strength and hope that he had needed. He was about to respond when both men saw Wolfbane walking towards them. Oddly enough their friend the grasshopper was now gone, but only Jean Fulver seemed to notice this.

"Dinner is about to be served in the Great Hall. Are you guys coming?" Wolfbane said as he stopped near them.

"Yes," said Sergei confidently as he got up. Jean also got up without saying a word. Wolfbane looked at Fulver as if he were irritated with the Frenchman, and approving of him as well. Fulver wasn't sure what to make of this new attitude, and decided to feign ignorance.

"What? I'm hungry too!" Fulver responded.

The American grinned, and the three men started the trek up the hill towards the castle.