Alexander patted his brother on the shoulder. "Keep it up, Semyon. The Director of Magical Transportation should show proper gratitude to the Smaug family."
"Roger, this is for you." Alexander drew out an old-fashioned scroll that looked as though it had survived several generations of damp attics, family arguments, and near disasters. The parchment was yellowed with age, and the ribbon around it had faded to a dull brown.
"What is it?" Roger asked curiously as he unfolded the ancient scroll.
A map had been drawn across the parchment in thin, careful lines. Some markings had blurred with time, but the route and several strange symbols remained visible. It did not look like an ordinary map, and the magic lingering in the ink carried a faint, stubborn chill.
"Our family's treasure map," Alexander said. "It is said to point toward the treasure of Rasputin, the last court sorcerer of the Tsars."
Roger looked up sharply, and Alexander immediately smiled in embarrassment. "Do not look so shocked. The family searched for it many times and never found anything. The last clue points to Romania."
Alexander sighed and tapped the edge of the scroll. "That place is northwest of the Black Sea, and it is still vampire territory. It should have nothing to do with Rasputin at all."
"In truth, his treasures were divided up back in 1916, so this map is probably only decorative now." Alexander's sheepish smile made his honest face look almost endearing. "Still, I will definitely pay back the money I borrowed."
His words made Roger feel slightly embarrassed. After all, Alexander had handed over a family heirloom, whether or not the treasure was real. The map itself might be useless, but the sentiment behind it was not.
"It is all right," Roger said sincerely. "Our friendship is worth more than Galleons."
"Well said!" Alexander clapped his hands together with delight. "Come on, I'll take you to see something amazing tonight."
Roger immediately spat out his tea.
He coughed for a while before finally managing to form a complete sentence. "I'm still young. That kind of thing is not appropriate."
"What are you thinking, you brat?" Alexander hooked Roger's head under one arm, then used his broad hand to rub the boy's hair into a bird's nest. His glare was fierce, but the amusement in his eyes ruined the effect completely.
"I am talking about the American Circus Arcanus," Alexander said. "They came to Moscow to perform. Let me tell you, they are famous throughout the wizarding world, known as a museum of magical oddities."
"A circus?" Roger's interest faded at once. "Isn't it just acrobatics, lions, and someone being fired from a cannon?"
He raised his wand and cast a Feather-Light Charm on his wineglass, making it float gracefully above the table. "If I were a Muggle, perhaps I would gasp at those tricks. But I am a wizard."
"Roger, ordinary tricks could never become famous throughout the magical world." Alexander pulled the floating glass back down and enthusiastically continued his explanation. "They have all kinds of magical creatures. It is an absolute spectacle, and most wizards may never see anything like it in their lives."
Without giving Roger another chance to refuse, Alexander dragged him out of the tavern and into the wind and snow. They headed toward the outskirts of Moscow, while Alexander chattered with the excitement of a child going to Hogsmeade for the first time.
"They trained mountain trolls to dance in ballet costumes," Alexander said, his eyes practically glowing. "Can you imagine those clumsy giants trying to spin?"
Roger immediately thought of the Hogwarts painting of Barnabas the Barmy attempting to teach trolls ballet, only to be beaten by them for his trouble. If the circus had truly managed it, then perhaps they deserved a little respect after all.
"And there are kappas, those Japanese water demons with scales," Alexander continued. "They can perform comedy routines. Comedy, Roger. Kappas!"
Alexander was delighted, rambling endlessly about the circus's marvellous performances. Roger tightened his scarf against the cold and gradually understood the truth. Alexander clearly wanted to watch the wizarding circus himself, and Roger was merely his excuse.
The circus had been set up in a clearing in the middle of a forest outside the city. A huge tent rose from the snow like a brightly coloured mountain, its ropes humming faintly with enchantments. At the entrance, a dwarf wizard sat on the shoulders of a troll, handing out magical balloons that constantly changed colours and patterns to every young wizard who entered.
"Hello, two tickets." Alexander patted the troll's thick arm and tossed two Galleons into the box hanging around its neck.
"Of course, sir," the dwarf wizard said brightly. "Please enjoy today's newest performance: the Talking Puffskein."
He waved his wand, and the troll stiffly raised one hand. With great effort, it tore off two tickets and passed them over, moving with the solemn delicacy of a creature handling eggshells.
"Oh, and the young wizard's balloon." The dwarf hooked one foot into the troll's mouth and hung upside down. With his free hand, he pulled a self-following balloon from his pocket and offered it to Roger.
"Thank you," Roger said carefully.
The balloon bobbed beside him on its own, decorated with a grinning clown whose painted face kept stretching into foolish smiles. Roger eyed it suspiciously, but it did not explode, bite, or sing, so he allowed it to follow.
Alexander rushed into the tent, dragging Roger after him. The first thing they saw was a Hippogriff with a white head and brown body circling overhead. A young witch rode on its back, clinging tightly to its neck as it rose and dipped with powerful wingbeats, screaming and laughing at the same time.
"Merlin's beard, this is incredible!" Alexander exclaimed happily.
He reached up as the Hippogriff passed low overhead, trying to brush its feathers. Roger stepped slightly aside, deciding that Alexander's survival instincts were worryingly weak for a man who had recently overthrown a minister.
"Wow, look over there!" Alexander shouted before Roger could react.
He rushed to one corner of the tent, where music was beginning to play. "Those ugly little fellows can actually use instruments!"
Roger followed his gaze and saw five kappas sitting in a corner. One held a harp, another had a flute, and a third was carefully tapping a little drum with webbed fingers. In front of a piano sat a water demon in a tiny suit, pretending to play with an expression of grave artistic dignity.
A slow waltz began, and several more kappas jumped into the open space to dance. Calling their movements coordinated would have been generous; each one seemed to be performing a different routine to a different melody. The result was so absurd that even Roger could not help laughing.
"Damn it," Roger said, clapping his hands in frustration. "Why didn't I bring my instant camera?"
Just then, a cluster of magical balloons swept down the aisle. A clown lay sprawled across the top of them, waving his wand and shouting in exaggerated outrage. Audience members below kept grabbing balloons from the bundle, which made him kick, scream, and shake his fists as if they had committed a terrible crime.
Everyone laughed at his furious expression. Alexander even snatched one from beneath the clown's glare, forcing the clown to stomp his feet on the remaining balloons in theatrical despair. The more furious he looked, the happier the audience became.
"Roger, look over there. The talking Puffskein is about to perform." Alexander immediately ran off again, and Roger had no choice but to follow.
At this point, Roger felt quite certain that Alexander was the real child between them. The man had almost died in a Ministry coup, yet a circus clown had somehow reduced him to a first-year on a sugar rush.
A crowd of young wizards had gathered around a small tower. On top of it sat a pink Puffskein, unusually large, perfectly round, and so adorable that half the children were reaching out to pet it. Its fur rippled softly whenever a hand brushed it, and it blinked at the crowd with an innocent expression.
One young wizard bought bananas from the clown and offered one to the Puffskein. The creature nibbled it, then said in a clear little voice, "Thank you. Bananas are delicious."
"Isn't a Puffskein supposed to eat leftovers and carrion?" Roger asked in surprise.
He rubbed his eyes before accepting that the fluffy creature in front of him had truly spoken. It looked far too round and harmless to be the centre of a famous performance, but the children were enchanted.
"Eating carrion does not mean it cannot eat normal food," Alexander said generously.
He bought a banana from the clown with a Sickle and offered it to the Puffskein, clearly just so he could hear it say thank you. The Puffskein obliged, and Alexander looked absurdly pleased.
Roger was still wondering whether the creature might actually be an Animagus when Barnum, the ringmaster, strode into the centre of the tent. He wore an exaggerated tall hat and carried a cane with a long black shaft and a T-shaped handle.
"That cane is Barnum's wand," Alexander whispered. "I heard it is a full forty inches long."
"Forty inches?" Roger stared at the black wand in surprise.
The cane gleamed brightly as Barnum waved it, instantly drawing the attention of the audience. He swept off his hat and bowed with perfect showmanship.
"My dear friends, welcome to the wizarding circus," Barnum announced. "I am Barnum, your ringmaster."
He waved his cane, and a rainbow appeared across the tent. Then he snapped the fingers of one white glove, and the rainbow transformed into colourful candies that rained down over the audience. The young wizards cheered excitedly as sweets bounced into their hands.
"It is real." Roger caught a magical gummy and examined it in astonishment. This was not simple Transfiguration, and he could not immediately understand how Barnum had done it.
Seeing the children's amazed expressions, Barnum continued with even greater satisfaction. He began to dance, his cane moving through his hands with intricate precision. When he pretended to grow tired and pulled one hand away to wipe his forehead, his empty white glove kept moving the cane by itself.
Barnum stared at the glove in exaggerated surprise. Then he circled around it with a puzzled expression, trying to understand how his own clothing had betrayed him. The audience burst into laughter at his embarrassment.
He finally shoved his hand back into the glove, and hand and glove began struggling for control of the cane. The fight grew more frantic until, with a bang, the cane suddenly pointed to one side and fired a beam of white light. Rows of dreamlike audience seats instantly rose from the ground.
"Roger, look! It's our turn!" Alexander shouted excitedly.
The moment he spoke, a beam of white light flew to their feet. A staggered row of seats rose beneath them, lifting them smoothly into the air.
"How is it?" Alexander asked.
"I have to admit, it is amazing," Roger said.
He nodded while turning his head in mid-air to look at the others. Young wizards and adult wizards alike were cheering, screaming, and throwing flowers and coins toward the stage. The entire tent pulsed with laughter, light, and the wild pleasure of magic used purely to delight.
Just then, the braziers atop the pillars inside the tent ignited one after another. They sprayed colourful fireworks into the air, and countless rings of flame appeared overhead, linking together to form a giant fire dragon.
.....
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