Jon Hart was having breakfast at an inn.
He had arrived the previous night in a northern Albanian city called Shkodër and settled into a room at a local inn.
Getting to this city in the western Balkans had taken no small amount of effort. Over the past three days, he had set out from Austria, passing through Slovenia, Croatia, and the Federal Republic of Yugoslavia—three Slavic countries—before finally reaching his destination.
Along the way, he relied on various Muggle modes of transportation. When crossing borders, he made flexible use of the Disillusionment Charm and the Confundus Charm, avoiding any real trouble.
By the time he arrived in Shkodër, it was already late at night… Fortunately, this was Albania's second-largest city (even if it had a population of less than seventy thousand). English and French were both commonly understood, so finding a place to stay was not difficult.
...
Jon had a habit of reading the newspaper during breakfast.
Of course, The Daily Prophet couldn't possibly be delivered to the far-off Balkans. Instead, Jon was holding an English-language copy of Balkan Contemporary—the most popular Muggle newspaper in the region—idly flipping through its pages.
Most of the content was dull and unremarkable. However, when Jon turned to the section between pages five and six, one particular piece of news caught his attention:
"Unfortunate news emerged last night from the Transylvanian Plateau in Romania.
In the small town of Gilău, the fifteen-year-old daughter of the local mayor, Gina Pistol, returned home several hours later than usual after attending a friend's birthday party in Cluj-Napoca. At 11 p.m., Mayor Pistol noticed something was wrong and mobilized the entire town to search for her. Her body was eventually discovered in a black forest along the banks of the Mureș River, approximately one mile from the town.
Miss Pistol's throat appeared to have been torn apart by a ferocious beast, and there was a claw mark on her face. However, according to the coroner's report, the actual cause of death was an acute heart attack. Mr. Pistol stated that his daughter had no prior history of heart disease.
Further details await continued investigation. Please follow Balkan Contemporary for updates."
"Throat torn by a beast, yet death from sudden heart failure?" Jon murmured, setting the newspaper aside.
To be honest, the sudden murder of a Muggle girl had nothing to do with him. Tragedies like this happened somewhere in the world every single day. Still… someone with no history of heart disease dying from an acute heart attack—wasn't that exactly the symptom of the Killing Curse?
The Killing Curse, also known as Avada Kedavra, caused the victim's heart to stop instantaneously, leaving no other traces behind. As a result, the only conclusion a coroner could reach would be sudden cardiac failure.
So there was a strong possibility that this girl had been killed by a wizard.
The article also included a photograph. The girl's face had been pixelated, but the wound on her neck was clearly visible.
Relying on experience from his previous life, Jon could vaguely tell—this looked like an injury caused by a canine creature.
A canine creature—and the Killing Curse… Could this brutal crime have been the work of a werewolf dark wizard?
Wait. According to legend… wasn't Transylvania the territory of Count Dracula, the old stronghold of vampires? If a werewolf dark wizard had barged in, could he be trying to provoke a Night War?
Deep in thought, Jon folded the newspaper and put it away, deliberately avoiding another glance at the gruesome photo. After all, he was still eating.
Whether it was werewolves or vampires, it had nothing to do with him. Transylvania was more than a thousand kilometers away from Albania—far, far removed.
...
A small incident occurred during breakfast.
At the neighboring table sat a man covered in thick body hair, his appearance extremely ferocious. He angrily overturned a pot of stewed lamb onto the floor, loudly berating the innkeeper for how terrible the food was.
Seeing his terrifying demeanor, the surrounding travelers quickly scattered away from him.
Watching the innkeeper, who was trying to explain with a deeply troubled expression, Jon couldn't help but find the scene a little amusing—
Eating stewed lamb for breakfast? This odd fellow was quite something.
Continuing his meal, Jon took out a small booklet titled Traveling Through Europe with Aline Shafiq. On the cover, a rather beautiful witch was smiling and waving at him.
Miss Shafiq, the author, was a highly renowned British traveler who had toured all across Europe, making her travel guides genuinely useful. During his stay at the Leaky Cauldron, Jon had picked up a copy from Flourish and Blotts.
A… Albania… No need to flip ahead—it was right on the first page.
"First of all, Aline would like to introduce everyone to the 'Land of the Mountain Eagles,' Albania—a country located in southeastern Europe, on the southwestern edge of the Balkan Peninsula.
The title 'Land of the Mountain Eagles' originates from Albania's national hero, Gjergj (George) Kastrioti Skanderbeg. Skanderbeg (1405–1468) was born into a noble family of the Byzantine Empire. Shortly after his birth, Ottoman cavalry swept across the Balkans. After his father's resistance ended in defeat, he surrendered and sent his young son to the Sultan as a hostage.
Skanderbeg grew up in Istanbul and eventually became a general in the Ottoman Empire. However, in 1443, when Hungary went to war with the Ottomans, he led three hundred Albanian cavalry back to Krujë. Using a forged letter, he tricked the city guards into opening the gates and proclaimed Albania's independence.
Afterward, the Ottoman sultans besieged the city of Krujë three times, only to be repelled each time by Skanderbeg. Legend has it that during battle, Skanderbeg could transform into a gigantic double-headed eagle, diving from the sky to tear his enemies apart—this was said to be the reason for his undefeated record.
Thus, the double-headed eagle became Albania's enduring emblem…"
...
The writing was quite engaging, and Jon was absorbed in it until he sensed someone approaching.
He quickly closed the booklet and covered the witch illustration on the cover with his hand.
Standing before him was a man who looked refined and scholarly, around thirty years old.
"A wizard?" the man said softly. "Don't worry—I am too."
He pointed discreetly to the bulge at his waist, indicating the presence of a wand.
"Yes," Jon replied with a nod, no longer bothering to hide the witch on the cover.
"William Smith, from England." The refined wizard extended his hand in a friendly gesture.
Jon shook it and calmly responded,
"Christopher Patrick, from Austria."