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Make A Wish By: Rorschach's Blot 12 *Chapter 12*: The Wall

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Good afternoon sir," a smiling customs agent greeted Harry upon his appearance, "how did you like the weather in Switzerland?"

"It was ok," Harry shrugged digging for his pa.s.sport. "How's the weather in Germany?"

"It's good sir," the customs agent nodded. "Very nice at the moment, what is the purpose of your visit?"

"I'm on vacation," Harry handed the man his pa.s.sport. "I want to get a look as some of the museums and monuments, and I want to sample some of your famous beers."

"Everything seems to be in order Mr. Black," the customs agent stamped the pa.s.sport and handed it back. "I hope you have a nice quiet time in Germany."

"So do I," Harry smiled. "And thank you."

Harry walked out and hailed a cab, unaware as always of the panicking Law Enforcement officers that he left in his wake.

There was a sense of excitement in the air and half the buildings of the city seemed to be under construction or renovation. Harry smiled as he wandered through the city, marveling at the surprisingly large number of buildings that still carried battle scars from the last war.

Harry spent the entire day gazing at the wonders of Berlin until he finally wandered into a posh looking hotel with a smile on his tired face, it had been a great day and he was finally leaving all the strangeness behind.

"May I help you sir?" A girl asked from behind the check-in counter.

"I'd like a room if you have one to spare." Harry nodded, "the most comfortable one you have available."

"Yes sir." The girl pulled a key off the rack, "I'm putting you in room four-oh six, will you be requiring anything else?"

"No thank you," Harry took the key, "thank you."

"Thank you sir."

Harry went up to his room with a smile and tossed his pack on the bed. Walking over to the windows he threw open the curtains and paused, maybe it would be best to leave them closed. While it wouldn't stop people from appearing outside and then falling to their doom, closing the drapes would make it easier to pretend that he didn't notice anything.

Harry woke up late the next day and, after checking his notes realized that he was supposed to meet with the Professor and Henchgirl later in the day.

Walking down to the hotel lobby, Harry stopped at a small information kiosk to get a bit of information on Berlin.

"May I help you sir?"

"I've got a few hours to kill," Harry smiled, "and I was wondering if you had any suggestions on places to visit?"

"The Alliierten Museum is always popular," the girl behind the hotel's information counter smiled and began pulling out pamphlets. "There are also a few other places that shouldn't be missed."

"Thank you," Harry nodded taking the informative pieces of paper. "And have a nice day."

Harry's pulse quickened as he read the description of the Alliierten Museum, he had come to Berlin with the express purpose of looking into the history of the Soviet occupation and now he had his chance. His interest in the wall was because it represented one of his very few happy childhood memories.


Harry had been young when the wall collapsed, but he still remembered the look of elation worn by the reporter that broke the story. A look that told the world that evil had been forced back if only for a while, a look that spoke of all being right in the world. His uncle had just stared at the television in shock, not believing what the reporter had just said. Unfortunately, Vernon had then noticed that the 'worthless boy' was watching television, and then things had gotten a bit less pleasant. Despite that, watching as crowds of people tore down the scar running across Berlin was still one of the happiest moments of his life.

Harry froze after taking his first step into the museum, the air around him was buzzing with magic and his head whipped back and forth to find its source.

"May I . . ." the greeter paused, "you'll be wanting to go into the door to your front. "Have a nice day."

"O . . . k," Harry nodded fingering his concealed wand. "I'll just be going in then."

"You do that," the greeter agreed.

Harry approached the door slowly, his instincts screaming at him to turn and run and his curiosity urging him to go forward. Slowly, carefully he reached towards the k.n.o.b with his left hand and turned it. Easing the door back, Harry quickly stepped in and to the left.

"h.e.l.lo?" An older woman looked up from her magazine, "are you here for the tour?"

"Yes?" Harry shrugged, "I guess so."

"One moment then," the woman stowed her magazine and pulled out a clipboard. "Sorry about that, I get so few visitors that I wasn't expecting you."

"That's alright," Harry nodded and allowed his muscles to relax. "What's the first thing on the tour?"

"The first thing on the tour is," the woman glanced down at her clipboard. "A section of the wall that still has the original wards intact."

"I wasn't aware that there were any wards," Harry blinked in surprise.

"Not many know people know that some of the wards were preserved sir," the woman nodded misunderstanding Harry's statement. "But we managed to stabilize the wards on our section before they unraveled."

"Oh," Harry shrugged, "do you have a diagram available?"

"I'm afraid not sir," the woman reddened. "You see we ran out of toilet paper last week and . . . well since n.o.body ever comes here . . ."

"It's alright," Harry interrupted not wanting to hear any more of the explanation, "I don't need a diagram, I just wanted a look at the plans before I took a look at the wards."

"Oh," the woman nodded. "right this way."

The two of them walked through a door and entered a room that had an entire wall filled by a large graffiti-covered chunk of cement.

"Were they effective?" Harry asked taking a doubtful glance at the section of the wall that contained the last shred of the communist wards. "Maybe I'm missing something but this ward looks like it was put up by the first year."

"No," the woman shook her head. "Most of Russia's magical talent fought with the Whites. When the Bolsheviks took the country most of the magical talent went elsewhere. What they did have was quant.i.ty, the Reds did have a small number of Muggle Born's and over the years they were used to train any new Muggle Born's that didn't get rescued by one of the schools."

"Training wasn't too good I take it?"

"I'm told that they spent more time learning to be 'Politically Reliable' then they did learning magic." The woman shrugged, "but there was an old saying during the cold war; 'it's quality versus quant.i.ty, but quant.i.ty has a quality all its own."

"Fascinating,"

"I think so," the woman agreed. "Now this next section . . ."

Harry spent almost two hours exploring the magical section of the museum, spending his time alternately shaking his head in disgust and rubbing his chin in interest.

"And here we are at the end of our tour," the woman smiled nervously. "Would you care to get something in our gift shop?"

"Do you have anything good?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well," the woman managed a weak chuckle. "You could get a piece of the wall and an old Soviet Spell Book."

"Is the book any good," Harry asked quietly.

"Not really," the woman shrugged helplessly. "Most of the defensive spells are next to useless, but the attack spells are fairly good . . . so long as you don't need precision. If you don't need precision then the attack spells are some of the most effective in the world."

"In what way?"

"They were designed to be used by poorly educated conscripts," the woman smiled. "It is very difficult to mess up their casting. And if you buy now, I'll even throw in a book of spells used by one of the more . . . secretive organizations."

"Fine," Harry nodded pulling out his wallet. "I guess I can't pa.s.s up an offer like that."

"Here you are sir," the woman pa.s.sed over a bag containing Harry's purchases. "Do you need anything else?"

"One thing," Harry nodded. "Could you direct me to the Weltrestaurant Markthalle?"

"No problem," the woman nodded flipping through a book on her desk. "I the address is Puklerstra.s.se 34 Kreuzberg, 10997. If you're taking a cab just tell the driver to take you to Eisenbahn Markthalle, it's connected to the restaurant."

"Thanks," Harry nodded. "Have a good day."

"One more thing," the woman bit her lower lip. "If you're going to eat there, try the Konisberger Klopse, it's one of my favorites."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry laughed. "Have a good day."

Harry exited the building and called a cab. "Where to?" The driver asked not bothering to turn.

"Eisenbahn Markthalle," Harry replied quickly. "I've got a meeting with a friend of mine."

"You got it." The cab driver nodded, "mind if I ask what you're planning on doing in Berlin?"

"Just meeting some friends and having a look around," Harry smiled, thinking about his moment of fleeting childhood happiness. "Just wanted to take a look at where the wall use to be."

"Must be strange for you to see the city without the wall in it?"

"It was there for so long," Harry gave a sad smile. "Seeing it fall is one of the happiest memories of my life."

"I'll bet," the driver smirked. "You gonna visit the Brandenburg gate?"

"I don't know," Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Might go through it while I'm here, but I think that it might be strange to see it without the border guards."

"I'll bet," the driver muttered.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"We'll be there shortly."

"Oh," Harry nodded. "Thank you."

The cab stopped in front of the Eisenbahn Markthalle and Harry stepped out onto the curb. "Mr. Black, it's so good to see you again." A short gnomish man and his hench girl walked up.

"h.e.l.lo," Henchgirl waved.

"h.e.l.lo, Professor, Henchgirl." Harry smiled at his two friends. "How are you doing?"

"Very well," the short man beamed up at his dangerous friend. "I trust that you've had nothing untoward happen to you since our last visit?"

"It's been a series of unfortunate events," Harry sighed. "For some reason, odd things keep happening to me."

"Well," the Professor paused for a moment unsure of how to reply. "You can tell us about it later, would you care to dine with us?"

"Sure," Harry nodded. "It's good to see the two of you again."

"You as well," the Professor replied and Henchgirl nodded her agreement. "We have the . . . the item that you requested, along with a few other things that may peak your interest."

"We can deal with that later." Harry put a hand on each of his friend's shoulders, and with a sad smile said, "for now, why don't we just have a nice meal together and talk about happy things."

The two inventors agreed, each wondering what demons were haunting their friend and each silently vowing to do what they could to ease his torment.

IIIIIIIIII

"Well?"

"Black was very cooperative," the cab driver smiled. "He told me that he doesn't plan to kill anybody in Berlin, just visit with some friends and see the sights."

"Anything else?"

"He talked about the cold war, said it was strange seeing the city without the wall." The driver laughed, "said that watching it fall was one of the happiest memories of his life. Probably because of all the time he spent in the Soviet Sector trying to bring it down."

"I'm sure," the other officer nodded. "Anything else?"

"I talked to the woman in the museum. She said that Black mostly just came in and stared at the section of wards, then muttered something about how shoddy the Eastern Block's defensive magic was. Said that their offensive magic was fairly good if you weren't looking for subtly, but that their defensive magic sucked." The cab driver chuckled, "said that any first-year student with a bit of magical instruction wouldn't have a problem making a hole in the first few layers of wards."

"I suppose that he'd know better than anybody," the older officer shook his head. "The things he must have seen."

"That's not all," the cab driver smiled. "When I was at the museum, I glanced at one of the photos showing the wall being torn down."

"And?"

"I noticed that one of the men tearing down the wall in the Photo had a blurred face." The cab driver had an 'I know something you don't know' smile.

"So the photographer wasn't very skilled, so what?"

"The men around him had recognizable faces, only his was blurred." The cab driver smirked, "that's not all. I took a look at one of the other pictures showing life behind the wall and I saw another picture with a blurred face."

"And?"

"This one was walking out of Stasi headquarters during the final days," the cab driver held up his hand. "The same day that someone used a little magic to disable their paper shredders."

"That's very interesting but it doesn't prove anything."

"I never said it did," the cab driver smiled. "It's not the sort of thing for official reports, but I'm sure that if we can find a few more of these coincidences then we won't have to buy our own beer for weeks."


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