Adult wizards typically travel short distances via the Floo Network or Apparition, while long journeys involve Portkeys or riding magical creatures. Only a few eccentric wizards insist on traveling through Muggle cities the Muggle way.
Coristhine and Melvin strolled along the asphalt path by the Danube River, moving at a leisurely pace, occasionally pausing to glance at street vendors. Coristhine couldn't help but find this professor irritating. How had Aunt Vida and Abernethy trusted his words so easily, handing over the Saints to him?
"Coristhine, you've never met Grindelwald, have you? Why join the Pure-Bloods?" Melvin asked casually.
They'd just left the hotel. The man had overslept, lazily washing up before heading downstairs. Coristhine had kindly mentioned there was still breakfast available—not as good as fresh, but not cold either.
Now Melvin carried a paper bag of chimney cakes, munching as he walked, sipping warm milk. The crunching sound wasn't exactly refined.
"It has nothing to do with the dragon Ea egg theft. I'm not obligated to answer you," Coristhine said calmly, unwilling to discuss the Rosier family's private matters.
Melvin shrugged. "Graduated from Beauxbatons—why not stay in Paris?"
"…"
Coristhine's brow furrowed slightly. His question stirred memories of France—unpleasant ones.
"Also unrelated to the theft. I don't want to talk about it."
"Fair enough…" Melvin mumbled, a faint smile playing on his lips. He didn't press further.
They continued along the riverbank in silence. Coristhine gazed at the ripples spreading across the water, her pale eyes lost in thought. Memories of Paris flooded back, unsettling her.
"Don't feel like sharing? Your face looks like it's hiding a novel," Melvin said, glancing at the witch. "One of those stories about family drama clashing with personal freedom."
"?"
Coristhine looked up, frowning. The young professor had finished his chimney cake, tossing the empty bag into a bin by the bridge and wiping his hands with a tissue, acting as if nothing was amiss.
"Have you been digging into my past?" she asked, unable to hold back.
"Didn't need to. Just a guess…" Melvin took a sip of his nearly expired milk. "A pure-blood heiress leaving her family's sphere of influence to join distant relatives in some far-off place? Either your parents pushed you into a career you despised, or they tried to marry you off to another pure-blood wizard."
Her painful, tangled experiences of the past two years sounded like a cheap, melodramatic play when he put it that way. Coristhine's feelings were mixed, but she couldn't argue.
They walked along the river, waiting for Melvin to finish his milk. Coristhine stared at the pavement and the water, occasionally glancing at the professor, her eyes betraying a shift in thought.
She silently prayed for the summer to end soon so this professor could go back to teaching.
"Doesn't Beauxbatons specialize in Alchemy?" Melvin asked.
"It's decent. The school emphasizes Ancient Runes. You need solid Runes grades to take Alchemy."
"How were your Runes grades?"
"Outstanding in both exams, but I didn't take Alchemy. I wasn't interested in those classes," Coristhine paused. "Hogwarts has a strong Alchemy program, doesn't it? Abernethy mentioned a new invention called the Shadow Mirror."
"We only teach Runes at Hogwarts. No Alchemy courses yet."
"Lucky you…" Coristhine muttered.
Melvin's expression turned thoughtful, piecing together her story. The Rosier family had likely noticed her talent and pressured her into studying Alchemy, hoping to leverage her skills to expand their influence. Whether their methods were too harsh or she simply had no interest, she'd fled abroad.
They turned into a secluded alley, and with a faint hum of displaced air, both vanished.
Morning light bathed the edges of the Carpathian Mountains. Inside a cave, a scrying lens vibrated at a steady rhythm—a sign it had detected dragon activity.
The cave was quiet, save for the occasional whistle of a breeze. Oddly shaped revealing mirrors, dark magic detectors, and probing antennae littered half the space. If set up on open ground, these devices could monitor thousands of feet.
The other Pure-Blood followers were relieved not to be risking their lives with Vida. Investigating case leads was manageable, and they put in genuine effort—some contributing labor, others funds.
The dragon-tracking scrying lens, the antennae that alerted to conspiracies or lies, the mirrors that pierced disguises and tracked locations—these tools effectively sealed off the pass. No wizard could slip through undetected.
Steady footsteps echoed as the detectors sensed an unfamiliar wizard approaching. The revealing mirror and golden antennae twitched briefly but found no deception or disguise, settling back into stillness.
Deep in the cave, Abernethy and Vida exchanged a glance before turning to see Melvin and Coristhine approach.
The old witch said nothing. Abernethy sighed wearily and began his report.
"The thieves' plan to steal the dragon eggs was meticulous. They triggered a dozen dragons to rampage, aiming to slip out during the chaos at the reserve," Abernethy said, glancing at Melvin. "But thanks to Professor Levent helping subdue the dragons, Romania's Ministry sealed the borders faster than expected. The thieves didn't dare break through and are now trapped inside."
Melvin nodded thoughtfully.
After the egg theft, most tourists were stranded in Romania, and reserve staff were suspended pending investigation. Their smooth departure yesterday had relied on a special channel, thanks to Melvin's help with the dragons, Professor Kettleburn's connections, and Hogwarts' reputation.
"With the borders locked down and Apparition banned in the reserve, the thieves have no Portkeys and haven't escaped yet. Aurors picked up their trail last night and have been chasing them through the mountains for over ten hours," Abernethy continued. "We think they're nearing their limit and will try to break out soon."
He spread out a map of the Carpathians, pointing to Melvin. "The Aurors are pursuing inside while we monitor outside. The scrying lens picked up activity at five locations. We've checked three and suspect they'll try breaking through at one of these two."
The Carpathians' terrain varied widely. The map marked two spots: a flat, open meadow with tight, visible security, and a narrow, rugged valley thick with vegetation, its defenses less clear.
Melvin frowned, thinking. "Has the Ministry set up ambushes at both?"
"They can't," Coristhine answered. "Some Aurors are suspended, and they're already short-staffed. Even with reinforcements from nearby countries, they can only lock down the mountains, not both locations. They likely picked one."
Abernethy nodded, then sighed. "But we couldn't find out where the Aurors are stationed. Vogel hasn't spoken to us old friends in ages, let alone shared intel."
Coristhine studied the map, then tapped the valley. "Knowing our director, he'd probably set up there."
"Where the Aurors are doesn't matter. What matters is where the thieves will break through," Vida said, her voice sharp and grating. She fixed Melvin with a sly look. "What do you think, Professor Levent?"
Her tone wasn't respectful—it was almost like she was enjoying the challenge.
Melvin wasn't Grindelwald. The Pure-Bloods had agreed to work with him for three years, not swear loyalty. They'd done their part gathering intel; now it was his call. If he chose wrong, it was his problem, not theirs.
Melvin ignored her games, studying the hand-drawn map with its bold dragon egg marker. "They want to escape with the eggs, so the route is critical. Once they're out of the anti-Apparition zone, they can shake the Aurors. If it were me, I'd pick the open meadow over the narrow valley."
He pointed to each. "They're bold but careful, not reckless. The valley's too tight, with dense greenery on both sides. If they get cornered, they're done."
"Should we gather people to set up an ambush outside the meadow?" Abernethy asked, looking up.
"No need for you to get involved. The egg theft is a big deal. If the Pure-Bloods get too entangled, it could draw suspicion from Romania's Ministry and cause trouble," Melvin said, shaking his head. "I'll handle it myself."
"…"
As the young professor copied the map and left the cave, Abernethy sighed again, having lost count of how many times he'd done so in two days.
Vida's mood grew inexplicably heavy. They'd struck an equal deal, yet this professor seemed to genuinely treat the Pure-Bloods as partners, considering their position, while they kept suspecting his motives.
Coristhine clutched her wand, her pale eyes flickering faintly.
Late June in the outer Carpathians was warm, with lush, verdant greenery. The wide, flat meadow stretched endlessly, its vibrant green soothing to the eye.
The Aurors' temporary camp sat near a pile of rocks, equipped with scrying lenses and anti-disguise charms, though fewer and less varied than the Pure-Bloods'.
Several Auror teams patrolled, their faces grim. The meadow was under an anti-Apparition ward. Breaking through here would mean facing fifteen adult wizards' attacks—an unwise choice.
As the sun moved from east to west, sinking behind the mountains, the patrolling Aurors began to relax. Reports suggested the Magical Law Enforcement and Creature Management teams had been chasing the thieves for nearly two days. Exhausted and cornered, the dark wizards wouldn't dare try this route.
In the orange glow of sunset, a hay-transfigured recliner sat under a tree, blending seamlessly with the meadow. You'd miss it unless you looked closely.
"No clue how they'll try to break out…" Melvin muttered, closing a storybook he'd bought at a market—a supposed 16th-century manuscript from Hungarian King Rudolf II's Hermetic Alchemy collection. In truth, it was just a children's fable, verbose and less engaging than The Tales of Beedle the Bard.
Coristhine leaned against the tree, glancing at the grass stains on his hem. She whispered, "Are we after the eggs or the thieves?"
"Depends. We're not Romania's Ministry, so no need to go all out," Melvin replied.
"…"
Coristhine didn't argue, just stared at him with her pale eyes.
Melvin chuckled, about to explain, when he caught a glimpse of movement. He stood, peering into the distance.
At the meadow's edge, where the mountains met the plain, there was no tree cover. The sunset bathed scattered rocks in mottled orange. But what lay there wasn't stone—it was neatly arranged dragon scales.
Under the fading light, the black scales of a Hebridean Black dragon shimmered with iridescent hues. The dragon raised its head, letting out a low, mournful roar.
As dozens of eyes watched, the dragon sniffed the ground, searching for a faint scent, piquing the wizards' curiosity.
A Firebolt broom shot out from behind, speeding toward the border. No rider was aboard—just a dragon egg tied to its tail.
"ROAR…"
The black dragon let out a furious cry, spreading its massive, spiked wings and chasing after it.
Coristhine stared, momentarily stunned, her mind racing to process the information. She quickly realized what the egg thieves had done.
Melvin narrowed his eyes. These wizards were mad—but brilliantly so. They'd planned to use the dragon rampage to slip out in the chaos. Trapped for two days, they hadn't panicked. Instead, they'd led the Aurors on a chase through the reserve, luring a dragon out with the egg.
They'd waited until dusk to provoke the dragon into charging ahead, using it as a vanguard while they followed to break the blockade.
The Aurors at the camp were in disarray. They were trained to fight wizards, not dragons, and hesitated to intercept the broom, fearing a curse might shatter the egg. An enraged dragon would be catastrophic.
The scrying lenses and detectors buzzed, warning of approaching dark wizards, but the twilight meadow, whipped by the dragon's wings, revealed nothing clearly.