Time Magic

In the hall, Anton stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, looking at the Elephant-eating Vine that had covered the third floor of his home at 11 Grimmauld Place.

In a distant corner, Pedro had dragged over a single-seat sofa and sunk deeply into it, lighting another cigar.

Bearing everything from the past upon himself—the cries carrying over from the River of Time, every memory, emotion, and will—all of it weighed heavily on his heart, so heavily it could drive a person mad enough to collapse.

Only tobacco and alcohol could numb his soul.

For humans, cigar smoke was not inhaled into the lungs. For a Goblin creature like him, it was just right.

As long as he traveled to the Age of Discovery and looted a cargo ship full of cigars before it sank beneath the sea, he would have enough to last him a long time.

He slowly exhaled a cloud of smoke and smiled wistfully.

"I'm a coward. During the final great war between wizards and Goblins, I hid beneath a bookshelf to escape the fighting. That was how I survived."

Pedro pursed his lips, his nose twitching. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head slightly, as though holding back some emotion.

"I'm a failed Goblin. I have been all my life. Everything I've ever done has gone terribly wrong."

"The witch Nerida Volcanova viciously cursed me into becoming a human, and I cut off her supply of life-extending potions."

"I regretted it."

"I went back and killed myself, married her, had Nagini, and took on a whole group of human apprentices. I planned to pass down the wisdom of my wife and myself."

"I was so proud back then."

Pedro spread the hand holding his cigar. His face was full of self-mockery, without a trace of pride.