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Harry Potter and the Wastelands of Time, Chapter 6Now there are some things in life that, once learnt, you can never forget – no matter how many times you relive the same eight years trying to avert Armageddon – things like riding a broom, or speaking Italian and French. And magic – I knew the ins and outs of Apparation, I knew how to squeeze myself through that thin little keyhole in space.
I'd already Apparated twice today, piggybacking on Fleur's magic, and it had given me a feel for it again. Enough that I thought I could do it with little hassle – although I had a feeling it was going to hurt, being so out of practice as I was in my fifteen year old body.
I took a deep breath, steadied my shopping bags and that badass suit over my shoulder, and muttered, "Destination… determination… deliberation." The three D's of Apparation.
I felt a tingling in my toes and then, standing in the middle of the road like an idiot, I disappeared from the French countryside without making a sound.
When Fleur and I had Apparated into France we had been redirected to the International Apparation Terminal in Paris, and for the most part Fleur and I, Mr Ethan Rafe, had entered the country legally. Italy had the same wards and charms set up to net incoming international travellers as France did, yet without Fleur I could… fly below the radar, so to speak. I just had to be careful not to set off the wards in place that would alert the Italian Ministry to an illegal border crossing.
It wasn't easy, yet I knew what I was doing, having spent many, many years, scouring the globe covertly for ancient magics and long, lost cities… I'd picked up a few tricks in my time, and the sheer distance I was attempting to Apparate would also work in my favour.
Most people, most magical folk, can manage somewhere in the region of two hundred miles when Apparating – and that's all good and well, yet even on an off day I could manage closer to a thousand miles. Dumbledore could probably do about five hundred, whereas Voldemort would be closer to me again. I'm not sure, to tell you the truth, of the true extent of Voldemort's magical ability. I've never survived long enough in a fight to the death against him to find out.
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