hollow // credence barebone

38. the banquet

jacob kowalski used to think of himself as a simple and law-abiding citizen of the united states of america, whose half-polish blood only made him a little stubborn. the goal he had in life was to open a pastry store in new york and get old without developing lung cancer from cigarettes (not the best way to go, especially simce he remembered his father's funeral). as for magic, a few years ago jacob kowalski would laugh in your face if you mentioned something about witches and spells.

actually, he'd laugh in your face now, too.

but this time it was because he was sitting in the german ministry of magic, in a huge and bright ballroom, looking at the glass of magical champagne, with a fake-but-not-so-fake wand in his pocket and a very magical companion to his side, and his job was to save the wizarding world. easy. maybe he could attach that to his work resume next time his pastry shop failed.

his hands were sweating profusely and he only kept wiping them against the fabric of his dress pants. he so obviously didn't belong here and he felt as if everybody knew it. it did cross his mind to get up and run once or twice before, but the charming dark-skinned woman held him by the elbow and chirped in his ear,

"come on, jacob. we need you."

now, he happened to doubt it. he was a no-maj, a muggle, a can't-spell and whatever other name there was for his kind. he was like a lamb in a group of very hungry lions and his only defence was pretending he was not that tasty.

perhaps he ought to be grateful when the doors to the ballroom swung open, and people's attention was turned to the newcomers. unfortunately, though, he only felt his heart drop to the floor and splatter in an ugly mess.

the first one who entered was a beautiful, black-haired woman he briefly remembered from paris. her eyes were sharp and her smile daunting as she walked in, her hips swinging like a dancer's. behind her, two tall men with faces that resembled rats in suits, an auburn-haired woman with a tight ponytail and emerald dress, and then...

"queenie," he gasped, perhaps louder than intended.

it was her. he would recognise her by her shadow alone. beautiful as the day he lost her, truly. only that she didn't look at him this time. she held her head high and waist tightly wrapped in a silky gown, purposefully avoiding glancing anywhere near him. as she passed their table, he could have sworn she tightened her jaw more, with nothing but a small tremble to her bottom lip giving her away.

jacob didn't realise that he had stood up from his chair until lally had him wrenched back down with a hiss. he swallowed down, slowly sitting back down, just in time to see the final instalment to the alliance. gellert grindelwald looked undisturbed by gasps and whispers that accompanied his steps, smiling at the attention he was given. in his dress attire, he almost didn't resemble a madman.

and then, his eyes ventured around the room and he looked at jacob. his eyebrow rose as he accepted a glass of champagne from the waiter, and rose it up looking jacob in the eye. it was obviously a successful attempt at belittling an already tiny man, but jacob's initial anxiety was very quickly replaced with irritation.

it was because of this clustered bits of insanity and homicide in a form of a man that jacob was here and queenie was there, and the world was falling into pieces. and then he realised why they needed a muggle like him. it was because grindelwald wanted his world incinerated, and jacob might have been the only one aware of it and willing to put a fight. and goddamn, he truly wanted to get up and punch that motherfucker in the face. it took another angry hiss from lally to stir him away from that thought.

he growled, pinching his leg and looking away.

"you know, lally," he sighed. "if we live through the night, i want to try that funny whiskey of yours."