Coincidences did exist. But which coincidence was the case here was what baffled him right now more than he had ever been baffled in his life. Twenty-seven years of his life he had spent trying to figure out puzzles, both those of strangers who wanted their problems solved without spending but money and his own. The stories tended to repeat themselves. Someone had stolen a lot of money from their partner (in crime normally, for otherwise there’d be far more legal methods than sending out someone like him); some crime had remained unavenged because the lack of evidence rendered a court powerless. Sometimes it had all been about justice, but more often there had been nothing deeper behind the missions than some pretty ugly conflict. He had seen and witnessed enough to not have the best opinion on human kind. And most certainly he had learnt that nothing but long and tedious research had to come first before he could even think about results.

So, it couldn’t be that he was standing before the result while so little of what he had done until now added up to the sum he was now presented. It was not logical, or at least too improbable. He did believe in luck, but there was a limit to every believe, and this was such a case though both alternatives he was facing were equally incredible. Either he was faced with a woman with a unique backstory that oddly fitted to Elizaveta’s hypothetical one or she was indeed Carolina’s Lizenka.

All he could tell by now was that the young woman was nervous, maybe even shaken — and full of disbelief if he interpreted her doubtful expression correctly. And he usually interpreted faces correctly — though maybe he should be more careful this time because… he knew the face, he knew the expressions. But he knew them from a completely different woman, one he had last seen as a teenager. He couldn’t be certain whether in this unsettled state he was in, he wasn’t just making things up. He couldn’t trust his senses anymore, not when everything seemed to point out that they were playing him tricks. He watched her as she suddenly turned to the books instead of directly reacting to his story. It appeared uncalled for, rude… whatever she was doing. “Что не — what can’t you read, моя дорогая [my dear]?” he asked, looking at the spine of the book she was holding and that meant nothing to him. He was missing some important point that he felt he should be able to deduct, but right now he was completely unable to. Not when he was fighting the impression that he was looking into his long dead sister’s eyes.

---

Words: 455

long roads
_{lead home}

She had held the book before, many times, she had read it at least three times reading over and over through those save few passages. She had never thought that she would ever have use of them, but it was the easiest way she knew of to test if they were related. Other than blood tests which would take too long. They had been used during a war when people had no memory of who they were and again after a muggle war where families were taken to camps. She didn't know much about any of that, but she knew how this worked she knew the way it was supposed to work, but her pounding heart and shaking hands would easily betray her nerves, it would betray that she was scared. She had no idea why she was or what this would bring her, but if there was even a moment that might bring her family, she was going to do it.

Heart thudding she put her finger on the page and looked at the elder man. He was handsome and there was something about him that just felt familiar, though she could often say this about a lot of people. It was something that called to her and pulled her in. It made her want to know who he was, what he was, where he was from. It could have been the sincerity in his eyes, or the soft tone of his voice, she had no idea, but she did know that she wanted nothing more than to be right. For this to be her family. To have found them at last. She was so close now.

"This, I don't know what it says, but that is the incantation for a spell that will tell us if we are related. The passage says you place the tip if your wand on the palm of the other person and then you only need to say it. If it is blue its a yes, white is no." Shifting the weight of the book in her hand she looked at him and held out her palm for him to do the spell, since he could read the incantation.

tag: Anton Karkarov // words: 367 // OUTFIT

template by eliza @ TB THQ

“Ах!” he breathed softly when it finally dawned on him what kind of book this woman who he might be able to call his niece was holding. These kinds of spells had never much interested him. He was basically familiar with them, but he had always been convinced that he wouldn’t need them. If he ever find little Liza, it would be after a long series of deductions and tons of research. He’d first have to face the demon Katarzyna anyway, and he’d recognize this madwoman anywhere. He had studied her life too well not to have this conviction. So the identity of his niece shouldn’t be a problem. It would be the girl the witch had locked away that would be his niece. And of course he’d also see her and know. And he sort of knew now, looking at a woman who should be a stranger and yet…

It felt wrong to suddenly be asked to perform a spell he had only ever thought of as a last way to be sure, a thing that only existed to confirm the obvious for the authorities. A habit, a conviction he had had for his whole adult life was not that easy to leave behind. He never had thought that his whole life would depend upon this one spell. That he would have to trust blindly a branch of magic he now realised he hadn’t studied in depth enough to build his whole hope upon. Theoretically, he knew that it was a perfectly reliable spell that she had no way of faking if he was to perform it — which she did expect him to do. It was nothing but to see his expectations subverted like that that made him start to doubt himself. He shouldn’t just trust a stranger, no matter how familiar she seemed. It could be a trap. It was highly unlikely that he wouldn’t have noticed such an elaborate one, but was it really less probable than that his niece just happened to pass him in the street? He wasn’t used to his instincts blindly trusting someone.

Yet, his instincts usually didn’t betray him, so why should they in this case. All he had to do was perform a spell and then… then, everything would be the way it was or… he wasn’t sure what he’d do if the colour would turn blue. If he’d still have the nerve to do anything. Which… was dangerous, a situation he’d avoid under any other circumstance. But not now. Idiotic as it was, he couldn’t not do as she told him. “Yes, I familiar with-” he said, amazed that he still managed to talk. “If you give me book…” He took the book from her in his free hand and placed the tip on his wand on the palm of her outstretched hand. And then he read the incantation, holding his breath once the last syllable had rolled from his tongue.