Between the Devil and Durmstrang

"Stockholm. It's only one hop."

"London. C'mon. Indian food. Fish and chips. Beer."

"We have world-class beer here."

"Cider. The English have great cider."

"Tall, leggy blondes."

Jones paused, trying to top that argument. "Knockturn Alley?"

"What?"

"It's their Dark Arts area - one stop shopping, or so I'm told." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, getting only an annoyed glower back. She tried appealing to his cerebral side. "I've heard that there are some great book stores."

"Like I need more books." Seated at his desk, Wronski made a great sweeping motion, indicating his office full of books. The books had overflowed their shelves years ago and were now piled in unsteady towers against all of the walls and the desk.

She looked around and then shrugged, "Everyone needs more books." She pointed at a small section of shelves behind the desk, "You hardly have any spell books at all. All you have is the Goshawk series. If you're serious about learning magic, real magic, you need good spell books." She settled back into the guest chair, feeling as if she had scored the winning point.

"What makes you think I can't read Swedish?" He leaned back in his chair and arranged his feet on the desk.

"Aha! See! You obviously need more training. Almost all spells are written in Latin! Ha!"

"I already read Latin."

"Oh." Jones thought for a few moments. "Look, I want to go to London. I don't speak Swedish. How can I help you pick out a wand if I don't understand what the guy's saying?" She spread out her hands and grinned broadly.

Wronski laughed, "Why didn't you just say you wanted to go to London? I knew you did. You hate going anywhere you have to use translation spells." Leaning over, feet still planted firmly on the desktop, he opened a drawer low on one side of his desk. The sound of papers being shuffled was soon joined by tuneless humming as he searched for something. "I know it's in here. I just had the damn thing a couple of weeks ago." The feet hit the floor with a thud as he repositioned himself for serious excavating. "Ah! Here it is." He waved a flattened scroll of paper overhead and swung his feet back into position. "London. Two hops. I wish we had a better hub. Not too expensive. How much does a new wand cost?"

"It's been years since I needed to buy one and the cost was in dollars, not Galleons. I really have no idea. At least we don't have to exchange money. One of the few good things about Wizard money. Kinda wish we could use it back home. Not that it matters." Jones sighed at the last.

"Quit it. We're going to have a good time." Wronski crumpled up a piece of paper from his desk and threw it at her. "You ever been there before?"

"No. I've heard about it. Mueller went last year. He said that the Leaky Cauldron was the deadest pub he'd ever been in. There are supposed to be a couple of good places to eat in their magical area. He really liked some ice cream joint, Florian something-or-other."

Wronski looked dubious. "He talks? Mueller never talks. I don't think I've ever heard him say a word. I don't believe you."

"He talks all the time. I can't believe you've never heard him," Jones scoffed and began to hunt for her cigarettes.

"No, he doesn't. He just stands there like the black wall of death. At least Massys and Baldung will give you the time of day."

She smiled, "I thought you were buddies with Werner these days after he did that favor for you."

Mistake. Wronski grew silent and seemed to contract. His mouth got hard and he looked away.

"Oh." Sensing a subject to avoid, she tried a new topic, "Ollivanders is supposed to be a great place to shop for wands. I hear the guy is kind of creepy, but really knows his stuff. I'm half way tempted to see if he refits me for something different. Maybe we can take in a Quidditch game. The English are mad for it."

With obvious effort, he tried to shake his funk. "Quidditch. Yeah. It's ok. I get tired of the stupid question."

"What stupid question?"

"Are you related to THE Wronski. The feint guy?" He gave a small snort. "I'm the only person in my entire family that has any magic at all. Are they kidding? I get so sick of being asked. I hear it all the time." He swung his chair around to look at the section of his bookshelves devoted to magic. "I wouldn't mind having a good spell book or two. These are ok. I did every spell once when I was practicing."

"Once? Only once?" Jones' voice held a large drop of suspicion.

"Yeah. I did them until I could do them once and then went on to the next one. That's how I knew I could do them."

"Well, that explains a lot." She lit the cigarette and took a long drag. "I always wondered why you don't use your wand more often."

He stared at her, waiting for more information. When she continued to smoke and not say anything, he began to crumple another piece of paper.

"Truce!" She threw both hands up in front of her face, laughing. "Most witches and wizards I know grow up watching their parents or relatives use certain spells over and over. You know. It's dark outside and you need a light, you perform which spell?" She held out a hand and waited.

He blinked at her, not expecting a quiz. "Uh. Lumos?"

"Correct. What about if you want to make something work like a lamp?"

The seconds ticked on as he thought. "Lumos?"

"Try again. Think. What if you were in a dark room and you wanted to read a book? How do you read in here?" She cocked her head and watched as he squirmed.

"I usually read in the staff room or by a window." Wronski thought a few seconds, "When it's dark, I usually cast a Lumos and use it to get back into where I have a few battery operated lamps."

Jones groaned. "Paul! Batteries! You don't need no stinking batteries. Illumino! That makes something else besides your wand glow."

Wronski frowned for a bit and then pulled out a piece of paper and found a pen. "Illumino. Lights something. OK. That sounds useful. Can I try it?"

"Sure. You've never noticed Rabe casting those? He does it every morning." She sucked down the last of her cigarette and pinched it out.

"Mornings. I don't function until after I've had my tea and I'm never the first one in the staff room." He pulled his wand out, his face settling into a fixed expression. "Illumino!" he said as he flicked his wand at the desk. The desk glowed briefly, but faded. The lip twitched slightly into a sneer. "Illumino!" The flick became a swish, papers fluttering slightly at the fury of the motion. The desk, if anything, grew darker. Wronski's face reddened. "Illumino!" The hand flailed upwards as the spell was spat as a curse. The ceiling glowed brightly.

"Not bad. Got it in three. A little less spit next time." Jones admired the ceiling. In her lecture voice, she added, "There are two things that influence a spell: strength and knowledge. You can know the spell, in this case Illumino, but, without the actual knowledge of what it's supposed to do, it almost always fails. For example, the infamous Abracadabra, very close to the killing curse, but not quite." She looked over at Wronski who was clearly not listening, still in awe of the glowing ceiling. "Paul," she said leaning over to tap the desktop, "did you hear me?"

"Huh? Oh. Uh. Strength and knowledge. Yeah. Right. Look at that! That's so cool!" He tilted his head back fully to appreciate it. "What a great spell. That's going to make things so much easier."

"You really didn't know how to cast that one?" She shook her head, foreseeing a lot of work ahead. "What do you use regularly?"

"Well, Lumos, of course, and Cale to heat water. Alohomora to open things. I learned that one from you. Tempus for the time and date. Accio. That one doesn't always work too well. Lowenstein tried to teach me some of the anti-cheating spells, but I was never certain they worked. I can do the Imperio curse. Had to learn that one. Mobilicorpus - very useful. I can conjure the blue flame thingy, but it's only so useful. The Inferno spell is lots better." He paused as he tried to remember what else he used regularly.

"So you do use some magic regularly. That's good." She nodded, "Strength is also a factor. Just because you have the magic doesn't mean you can do anything with it. Lots of wizards are almost nonfunctional because they lack strength. Strength is something you're born with." She waited to see if anything was sinking in. "You can also develop strength by increasing your knowledge. Knowledge is definitely a part of power here. Ever wonder why we're all so interested in each other's books? That's knowledge. The more you know, the more potential for power."

Wronski nodded and tapped his pen on the desk. "What else? Why are some wizards so much stronger than others?"

"Good question. No good answer. The magic seems to flow stronger in some families. I'm bragging a bit, but the Joneses have had a long history of very strong magic. From what Mueller says, Massys is the strongest wizard they have on the force and he's from Muggle lines, like you. So, maybe there's a little bit of genetics in there."

"Genetics. Science! Hurrah! Now which genes are part of that particular expression?" He grinned at her. "I understand science. I want to understand magic. How long do you think it'll take for me to feel safe?"

"'Safe', now that's an interesting way to put it." She glanced over at the door, assesing the soft gray glow of the wards. "There is no 'safe'. No matter how strong you are, no matter how many spells you know, there's no 'safe'. It's really important to remember that." Standing, she pointed to herself. "For years, I was a professional in the Dark Arts. Not teaching it, doing it. Takes a sort of tweaked individual to go that way, but here I am. I spent years learning how to do horrible things to people in ways that would go undetected. I'm good. Very good. I made a living for a long time and I never felt safe." She waited while her words sank in. "There are things you can learn to do to help protect yourself, but don't ever fall into the trap of feeling 'safe'."

Wronski grew silent and subdued as he watched her. "I feel safe here most of the time. Safer than I felt back home. No one shoots at you."

"Oh, they shoot at you alright. Depending on where you are, you can get shot at by both magic and guns. Back home, they use both. There isn't a nice division between the real world and the magic world in the States. I hadn't realized that before I came here. It's easier here in a lot of ways. Whole wizarding communities living inside towns protected by illusion and spells to repel Muggles. Not like that back home. Ok, I understand New York has an area as does New Orleans, but I've never seen them. Most of us just live with everyone else. Not a problem there." She turned to face the wards, watching them glow. "Don't kid yourself. The best defense is still a good offense. So, we'll work on some of those kinds of things, too."

"Have you ever been shot at?" Wronski sounded like a kid.

"Oh, yeah. I'll take magic over bullets any time. Guns are loud. Brings more cops." Slowly, she looked over at him. "I'm not scaring you, am I?"

"What do you think? I was hoping knowing a few spells would make me feel better."

"Sorry, Paul. Most wizards never run into anything more dangerous than a broken wand misdirecting energy. You're probably not going to rush into a new career of wand for hire or anything like that. I'll teach you how to cast wards and some detection spells - enough so you'll have some idea whether anyone is keeping track of you. We'll work on everyday stuff and maybe a shielding spell. Good things to know." Returning to the guest chair, she sat back down. "There's so much to learn! I don't know anything about the medical end of it. I'd love to know more about memory spells. Don't you wonder what Werner did to your mother's memory? How he did it? There's a ton of work for that kind of thing." She smiled at him, noting that he didn't smile back. He'd told her that Werner expected a return favor and that it bothered him. "Have you ever seen something get built by magic? Pretty cool! Transfiguration is an interesting thing, too."

"Can you predict the future? I always wondered about that stuff. Madam HooHaw and her mystic globe kinda thing."

"I've never met anyone who could do it. Now, I did hear of a gal named Moira O'Flannery who was supposed to have the sight. I read an article about her years ago. From what I can remember, she complained that you get little glimpses of things all the time so you can't tell what's important or not. Dunno." She shrugged, "But first, we need to get you fitted with a wand. In London. Ok?"

Wronski smiled back, "I can be packed in an hour."