I woke up at dawn, feeling pleasantly rested and rejuvenated. I stayed in bed for a while, stretching from side to side; my muscles were stiff in just the right way. Styrax had slept beside me all night. When I began to move, he woke up as well with a wide yawn. I watched him with amusement and couldn't resist asking:
"What are you, exactly?"
"Meow," he blinked at me and flopped onto his side, his tail lazily thumping against the mattress.
I hadn't expected him to answer, but in that moment, I caught a flicker of emotion. It was so faint that I couldn't quite specify its "flavour." While before I had only sensed a pure, animal consciousness in him, now there was something deeper. Either my Legilimency was growing stronger by the day, or his emotion was more intense than usual... or it was simply magic.
"Pff, keep your secrets then," I huffed after a moment. "But from now on, your name is Styrax."
The cat hissed at me in protest, which only amused me further.
"No hissing, Styrax," I replied with a smirk.
He hissed again, more sharply this time. I reached out and began to scratch him under the chin. He prepared for another protest, but his eyes slid shut in bliss and, instead of a hiss, he began to purr loudly.
"Styrax," I repeated triumphantly.
"Meow," he finally gave in, yielding to the scratching.
I attended to him for a few more moments before quickly climbing out of bed. Styrax hissed discontentedly again, but I ignored it. Today we were going on a troll hunt, and I had no intention of sleeping until noon. Since I'd risen at dawn, I had plenty of time to get myself together. I skipped training for today—I needed to be in peak condition.
I treated myself to a lukewarm shower. Not cold, as I'd never cared for those, and not hot, which would only make me sleepy again. Tepid water was exactly what I needed for refreshment. Realistically, I didn't even need it; I had cosmetic and hygiene charms down pat, but a shower was a pleasant luxury. Of course, I used the charms afterward anyway to ensure a hundred-percent result.
By the time I was dressed and ready, the cat was still lying lazily in bed with his eyes closed.
"Styrax, breakfast?" I asked. I hadn't even finished the word before he bolted from the bed like an arrow from a bow. He began rubbing against my legs with immensely enthusiastic meowing. I shook my head in amusement. Although I had always preferred dogs, cats were great in their own way.
When we arrived in the dining room, Vespera was already contentedly sipping tea and reading the newspaper. A clean plate sat before her, but the table was, as always, overflowing with food. Our house-elf, Jobo, had prepared a portion for Styrax as well: a bowl of fresh water and a piece of salmon that was larger than the cat himself. With a satisfied purr, he hopped directly onto the table and began his feast.
"Good morning," I greeted and took a seat, attempting at least basic manners.
"Good morning. Did you sleep well?" she asked both of us, watching the greedily feasting cat with amusement. It didn't bother her at all that the animal was on the table. It was strange—in my past life, most women would have had a fit over that.
"Yes, excellently and with anticipation. And you? Ready?"
"Of course. A troll is essentially simple to kill," she answered with a smile, setting the newspaper aside.
"Simple? Quirrellmort told us that most wizards don't stand the slightest chance against a troll and that they are magically resistant," I countered, recalling our Defence Against the Dark Arts lessons.
"Simple for a capable wizard," Vespera corrected herself. "It's not a giant, so its magic resistance has its limits. It's smaller and, crucially, much stupider."
"How would you deal with it?" I asked curiously.
"Transfiguration is perfect for it. I'd turn something nearby into steel spears and drive them straight into its throat," she laughed, amused by the image.
"Transfiguration? I don't think I've ever seen you use it properly."
"It's not exactly my cup of tea... but I am a Rosier, so of course, I handle it without any problems," she replied, tilting her nose up with mock pride and affectation.
When I laughed, she smirked back at me. "And what about you? Are you going to drown it, then?"
I nodded. "I don't have anything else in my repertoire yet that could seriously harm it. Unlike you, I haven't tried spears yet."
"You are a Rosier. Nothing will be a problem for you," she declared proudly, but then she raised an eyebrow and looked me over. "But aren't we a pair? A beautiful summer day, a perfect morning, and here we are discussing murdering a troll for ingredients for your ritual."
She shook her head amusedly. "And what about that friend of yours you wanted to go see?"
"Sally can certainly wait. I'll go to her after the ritual," I answered thoughtfully. I had quite a lot planned for my first summer in the magical world, but power wouldn't wait. It had to be built immediately.
I noticed my aunt watching me with a growing smirk.
"Don't smirk like that, she's really just a friend," I added after a moment. She clearly thought my brooding was about her.
"Of course, whatever you say," she replied, but the smirk didn't leave her face. I just shrugged helplessly. It was interesting, however, that she didn't protest; she must have known Sally wasn't a pure-blood. I chose not to ask about it, not wanting to give her another reason to tease me.
While I finished my omelette with a slice of black bread and vegetables, Styrax the cat continued to battle his salmon undisturbed. He didn't seem to be slowing down at all. It was beyond strange—he had already eaten more than his own body size. That portion should have been sticking out of his ears by now, yet he carried on. Without a doubt, he had to be magical. I made a firm mental note to watch him like a hawk until his true nature finally revealed itself.
With a clink, I placed my fork on the plate, full and satisfied. I finished a glass of plain water. I had an immense craving for coffee, but I had no intention of becoming caffeine-dependent so early in this life. There would be plenty of time for chemical brain amplification in later years; for now, my own testosterone and growth hormone were enough for my youth.
"Ready to go?" Vespera asked with a smile.
"Meow?" the greedy cat paused from his meal for a moment.
"We're ready. You, Styrax, can stay here. We'll be back in a while," I replied calmly. I quickly used a hygiene spell on my mouth—I'd improved significantly with it lately, so I immediately felt a fresh minty taste.
This was clearly explanation enough for the cat, as he immediately vanished back into the mountain of food. Only the sound of greedy smacking echoed through the dining room. I wasn't worried about the food "doing him in"; he seemed far too clever not to know his limits.
"Let's go then," she gestured, and together we walked to the Floo. She stopped by the fireplace and began explaining: "We have VIP access directly to the International Portkey Terminal. The exact address is: Ministry of Magic, International Portkey Terminal. Don't make a mistake; I don't want to have to look for you among those bureaucrats who'd rather hide behind stamps than actual skill."
Before she could disappear, I couldn't help but ask curiously: "That sounds like a perfectly ordinary address. Are you sure it's VIP?"
"Of course. The address is always the same; it's the access that's different," she explained calmly. "Luxury travel agencies are connected directly to the Portkey Office. But the old pure-blood families, who practically built this Ministry once upon a time, have VIP access almost everywhere... An ordinary person has to go through the main atrium, undergo a wand check, and wait in line. We avoid all that."
Following my nod of agreement, Vespera didn't hesitate. She stepped into the fireplace, dropped a handful of powder at her feet, and, shouting the address, disappeared in a massive pillar of emerald flame.
When the last green sparks from Vespera's departure vanished, I stepped into the fireplace as well. I took a handful of silver Floo powder and dropped it beneath my feet.
"Ministry of Magic, International Portkey Terminal!" I called out in a firm voice.
The world blurred for a second in a dizzying whirlpool, but in the next instant, I arrived. Vespera was already waiting for me before the fireplace and gestured for me to follow. I didn't hesitate. I stepped out, discreetly cleaning the soot from my robes as I went. We found ourselves in a cold grey hall that felt almost lifeless, despite the crowd of people—from entire families with children to bureaucrats in cheap, worn-out robes. A muffled whisper and the smell of ash hung in the air, though the floor was polished to a mirror shine.
While the regular travellers crowded in a long line before the information desks, we continued further to an inconspicuous table off to the side. It wasn't specially marked in any way, but at first glance, it was made of higher-quality wood, and the official sitting behind it wore robes of considerably more expensive fabric.
As soon as we approached, a man roughly Vespera's age attempted a charming entrance. He rose quickly with a smile on his lips: "Good day, Vespera!" he cried out, but in his burst of enthusiasm, he tripped over the leg of his chair. It cut through the silence of the hall with a loud screech. The fellow was attractive to look at, but his charm instantly turned into a strained grimace once he realised his clumsiness.
"Good day, Edgar," Vespera replied coldly. "As usual, the destination is Prague. I'm taking my nephew this time."
"Of course, of course," he muttered, bowing his head slightly. He slowly opened a drawer, never taking his eyes off my aunt. He ignored my presence entirely, as if I were merely a piece of furniture. When he straightened up again, his smile relaxed and he regained his lost confidence. "How about dinner when you return?" he suggested with a charming wink.
"The Portkey," I interjected coldly. Edgar's charming smile changed into an arrogant smirk in an instant, and he finally looked at me as well. He was already drawing breath for some biting remark, but I simply held out my hand, and in a fraction of a second, a bright flame flared in my palm. His smile froze on his lips right then and there.
"The Portkey... right," he muttered, immediately handing Vespera an ordinary cheap pen. "The phrase remains the same." With his eyes fixed on the desk, he sat back down in his chair, trying to look important even though my little trick had clearly rattled him.
Vespera pulled me away with an amused smile. While I let her lead me, I kept my gaze fixed on him for a moment longer until the flame in my hand finally died out.
We moved into another room where the magic was almost palpable. Intricate runes were carved into the walls, with gemstones occasionally glowing dimly within them. The floor was dark, but in its centre stood a huge, perfectly white circle. We stepped directly into its middle and stopped.
Nothing happened for a moment. Vespera said nothing, just looked at me with a wide smile. Then she suddenly grabbed my right cheek and gave it a good pull. "A second Evan!" she laughed. "Hold onto me tight," she commanded when she finally let go.
I obeyed immediately and gripped her hand firmly, though I was careful not to hurt her with my grip. I was considerably taller and more heavily built than my delicate aunt.
"Transitio Prague," Vespera spoke in a clear voice.
The room with the white circle dissolved. I felt the familiar, unpleasant jolt, as if an invisible hook had snagged my navel and pulled me through a narrow tube. It was similar to Apparition, but it lasted noticeably longer. My head was already starting to spin when we finally arrived.
Vespera didn't give me even a second to catch my breath before she was pulling me out of the room, which looked almost identical to the one in London. However, when we passed the officials, I noticed the difference immediately. Where London was grey, dark, and cold, Prague was bursting with life. People were more smiling, more relaxed; they didn't whisper but spoke loudly in a foreign language I didn't understand. I realised I needed a Translation Charm. I was already reaching for my wand, but Vespera stopped me.
"Later, Patrik. Not here," she whispered to me.
So I followed her without stopping, straight to another Floo. On the way, she just nodded a greeting to a smiling, freckled blonde woman behind a desk, but no one delayed us. Again, there wasn't a soul here, from which I concluded that the Rosiers had VIP access here as well.
"The address is: The Drunken Gnome, Zuberec," she responded to my curious look. "Got it?"
"Aren't they supposed to record me somehow? That I'm in their country?" I asked just in case she'd forgotten in the rush.
"The room we arrived in first does that automatically. If the system hadn't recorded you, they would have stopped us right in the main hall," Vespera explained. "There's always a guard patrolling there under an Invisibility Cloak."
I nodded. Vespera stepped into the Floo again and vanished in emerald fire. I followed her.
We found ourselves in a restaurant pulsing with life. Compared to the quiet whispers of the Leaky Cauldron, people here were shouting over one another. The intoxicating scent of roasted pig hung in the air, and lively, easy-going music was playing. Locals sat at the bar, chasing vodka with beer. If they weren't wearing robes, I'd have taken them for Muggles.
Vespera noticed my surprised expression and shrugged amusedly: "Vodka and beer, those are the national breakfasts here... Fortunately, anti-alcohol potions exist, otherwise they wouldn't be able to speak coherently after a few years."
I was too curious about what they were discussing. I quickly pulled out my wand. This time, Vespera nodded in agreement.
"Idû šumāti kalû," I cast the spell.
Thanks to the charm, I immediately understood what was being sung in that catchy tune. The patrons were boisterously joining in the chorus:
"In Orava it's good, in Orava it's healthy, but in Orava, but in Orava, hey, handsome boys are few. Handsome boys are few and they resist being loved, and I am used to it, and I am used to it, hey, until the very morning. Until the very morning standing under the window, at high noon, at high noon, hey, kissing with a boy. ..."
The rhythm was captivating, but Vespera was already pulling me toward the stairs leading to the upper floor. As we passed tables full of feasting people, I noticed most of them had some kind of white, strangely slimy pieces of dough on their plates, heavily sprinkled with chopped bacon and spring onions. Vespera caught my curious look.
"Those are bryndzové halušky, one of their national dishes. We can have some later," she promised with a conspiratorial smile.
By then we were on the upper floor. I won't lie, it looked like a properly cosy dive up there. Vespera headed without hesitation to the first door on the right and entered without knocking. I followed her straight inside.
Elizabeth was already waiting for us in the room. She greeted Vespera with a smile while I watched her in silence. She was still as stunning as before—her beauty had something otherworldly yet predatory about it. Only after a moment did I notice a man standing in the shadows of the room. He was bald, with an athletic build, a tanned face, and stubble. Though his robes were frayed, he looked dangerous. The whole impression, however, was marred by the cautious, almost frightened look with which he watched Elizabeth and my aunt. He kept a considerable distance from them.
After a short, quiet greeting, Elizabeth turned to him.
"Rudolf, this is Mrs. Vespera Rosier and her nephew Patrik Rosier," she introduced us formally. "And this is Rudolf, our guide to the trolls."
Rudolf gave a stiff bow, but his eyes never left the two women in the centre of the room. When he straightened, he greeted respectfully: "Good day, Mrs. Rosier." Then he threw a quick, condescending smile my way: "Hello, boy."
Peripherally, I caught Vespera's smile freezing, her face tightening into a cold grimace. She was already drawing breath to put him firmly in his place, but I quickly squeezed her hand and replied calmly: "Good day."
My aunt gave me a fleeting look, but when she saw my confident expression, her eyes softened and she let it be. Elizabeth watched our silent communication with unhidden amusement. Then she stepped back and gestured toward the table.
In that moment, I snapped to. I realised Elizabeth's beauty had completely floored me—for a moment, I'd ignored my magical sensitivity and the warning whisper in my head. Very dark magic was radiating from the table. Lying upon it were three leather bracelets with blood-red rubies in the centre. They looked ordinary, there were no runes on them, but the darkness coming from them gave the room a strange "flavour."
I immediately began cursing myself mentally. It was unthinkable that a pretty face could charm me so much that I'd lose my head. It never used to happen to me in my past life... and now? Were these pubertal hormones tossing me around so uncontrollably?
Vespera stepped to the table without hesitation and put the bracelet on her forearm. Elizabeth watched her with a smile, but I remained standing as if rooted to the spot. Elizabeth noticed my stance and smirked, while Rudolf watched us silently. After a moment, she began to explain:
"In the Tatras, you'll encounter various magical and non-magical predators... These bracelets will dampen the sound of your footsteps and blend your scent with the surroundings. It's an insurance policy so that something doesn't eat us along the way."
"And Rudolf?" I still wasn't keen on putting the object on. I certainly didn't plan on dying for Elizabeth's beauty, even though Vespera seemed perfectly calm and smiled at me amusedly.
"I have my own spells for that, boy," Rudolf spoke hoarsely, eyeing the remaining bracelets on the table with blatant caution.
Elizabeth snatched one up, put it on quickly, and handed the other to me. "Come on, handsome, we haven't got all day," she said with a smile. But despite her mask, I caught something like a shadow of fear for a moment, even though I otherwise felt no emotions from her.
Vespera trusted her, so I decided to as well. I accepted the bracelet and looked it over in my palm for a moment. I felt the purest dark magic coming from it. In its intensity, it was comparable to the Horcrux I'd found at Hogwarts, but this object smelled of a dark naturalness, whereas the Horcrux had that foul, purulent stench of rot.
With trust in the darkness, I put it on.
"How was it created? I don't see runes or common enchantments," I asked curiously.
"Ritually, of course," Elizabeth Báthory replied with a smirk, her pearly teeth glinting in the cosy little room.
Rudolf swallowed loudly, Vespera burst out laughing, and I felt like giving myself a proper facepalm for my naive question. With the Báthorys, after all, a ritual is the answer to everything.
***
Author's note:
So, what exactly is Styrax? We know he's sharp, he's basically adopted our MC, and he somehow manages to pack away more food than his own body weight.
As for certain characters—some guys are just slimy and strange. A word of advice: if you fancy a woman, never ignore the company she keeps.
Even though it was just a glimpse of a couple of rooms, that quick detour through the Czechoslovak Ministry was enough to show the stark difference in atmosphere... and of course, down in the Tatra mountains, drinking goes hand in hand with catchy folk songs.
The hunt is on!
***
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The shadows are shifting, and the story goes much deeper... If you can't wait for the next update, Advanced Chapters are already waiting for you.
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Upcoming Chapters – Already Written(16):
67. Socks, Sandals, and Sorcery
68. From Peaks to Plates
69. Ashes of Justice
70. The Scent of Despair
71. The Old Bird's Wisdom
72. Toujours Pur
73. The Emperor of Mankind
74. Two Romans Walk into a Bar…
75. Tactical Retreats
76. The Twelve-Year-Old Dark Lord
77. Poking the Snake
78. Of False Heroes and Tethered Minds
79. The Casual Intruder
80. The Silent Partner
81. The Black Inheritance
82. The Frequency of Intent
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