Morning comes slowly as I drift, sleeplessly, through a semi-conscious state. No thoughts stick except a vague longing that the sun would never come. Seemingly, minutes pass, but the sun shining it's way across my bedroom illustrates it has been hours since I last checked the time.
The silent grandfather clock across from my bed reads 7:10am. It's smooth, polished red wood makes a mockery of the plain white walls that decorate the room. With a flick of my wand my curtains peel away from the large windows to my left, sending light pouring across every surface available.
With a small crack, the house elf Torlo appears at my bedside.
"Does Miss wish for breakfast?" Torlo asks.
Taking quick inventory of my mental state, I note the lingering slowness of sleep.
"A cup of black tea and amphetamines, Torlo." I relay as the elf disappears.
As I finger through my closet, looking for appropriate dress, the elf reappears, setting breakfast on my small jade table.
"Torlo?" I acquire the elf's ready expression. "Send the others about their usual chores, except Arde, who you will take with you to pick up my school supplies."
"Yes, Miss." Torlo looks to the floor in a submissive gesture. I leave the elf to turn my attention back to clothing.
"Did you inquire of His preferences?" I wonder, hopeful the elf had not failed.
"M-Mistress f-forbade Torlo from f-finding-"
"Mother forbade it?" I ask, fury dancing behind my grey eyes.
I don't wait for an answer. Instead, I rush from my bedroom, pushing Torlo to the floor in a huff.
I follow the length of richly decorated hallway and have descended the staircase before becoming aware of my state of undress. In embarrassment, I run back to my room to ready myself for the day. Ready, though, I was not.
Today, I am meant to meet with Strelnikov and Aerndal. These men are among Grindelwald's close and trusted. My mother had warned me weeks prior how unlikely it would be, if I were not to present myself well, our family could continue as lavishly as we are meant to. Losing Grindelwald's favor, as I know, is as close to a death sentence the esteemed Dittmar line could suffer.
While reputation of our name remains untainted, I am reminded to do nothing that may alter our path through the coming centuries.
I settle on a blood red gown; It's sleeves are long and stick close to my skin. The cuffs are a faded peach lace, as is the bodice of the gown. It is as semi-formal as I dare allow myself to be seen in under the pretense of business.
"Pearl!" I demand the house elf in charge of my beauty routine. "Ready me for this meeting."
I watch myself being made up in my vanity as I sip my tea.
My mother and I have the same black hair and pale skin. Her eyes are a brilliant blue, seemingly from a different world, piecing you form a reality beyond the physical. My father calls them his glimpse into the afterlife.
"Mother?" I inquire as she enters my room. Her eyebrows are pushed together in discomfort.
At my inquisitive look her features soften.
"I am well." She assures me. "You've dressed well."
"Torlo was little help, in fact," I accuse, "I was told you would not allow any reconnaissance."
"You would do good to remember your place," she warns. "He would not be so forgiving about spying."
"What?" I gasp, "It's just for wardrobe help! What if Grindelwald were to view our family as lesser on account of my presentation?"
I am silenced by a single look from her.
I change the subject. "Will father be returning to see me to Durmstrang this term?"
"We will have to see." She answers, placing her arm out for me to grab. As I rest my forearm over hers, the pull of apparition seizes me.
We land in a grassy clearing. In all directions there seems to be little more than a stray tree or wild flower.
"Lady Dittmar." A male voice behind us calls. My mother and I spin, as a number of men apparate around us.
"Erig." Mother acknowledges.
Erig suddenly is moved backwards. A new man appears in his place.
This man grabs my mother's hand and places a chaste kiss upon it.
"Lady Dittmar," He addresses mother in a resonating baritone, "I presume this to be your daughter?" His eyes travel to me as mother speaks, not leaving or wavering slightly.
"Lord Grindelwald, this is my daughter Uta."
I bow politely, thankful for an excuse to escape his glance for a moment. I extend my hand to him and he brushes his lips over my knuckles.
'"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Uta." He speaks gently, releasing my hand.
"It is an honor." I say truthfully.
He gives me a true smile, relieving some of the wrinkling around his mouth. I recall suddenly the photograph I saw in the paper of him as a Durmstrang student; at my age he held himself in an air of superiority and darkness. Though aged at least half a century since, I found the features in his face that were unchanged. His cheekbones still protruded in an aesthetically pleasing way - he still looked as if he were waiting for an excuse to step over the unworthy, just to relish in the joy of the power he knew he had. He was still exceedingly attractive, I noted. Shit, why wouldn't I look like that I wondered enviously.
"Might I say that you look wonderful in that color, Uta?" Grindelwald complimented.
I smiled politely, unable to accept the compliment, but giving thanks.
Grindelwald stepped away and turned his attention to the group at large. There were seven people in the clearing, not including my mother and I. At that moment, another crack sounded. My father was in the clearing too, now.
"Ah, Dietrich, good of you to grace us with your presence, finally." Grindelwald patted him on the back with what was obviously too much force. My father stood stiffly, awaiting perhaps an order or perhaps a curse. To my surprise, he was neither cursed nor accosted. Instead, Grindelwald turned his attention back to me.
"This term will be your last year?" His eyes narrow and I nod in confirmation. A voice in my head reminds me it was expected I show proper respect.
"Yes, sir, my final year at Durmstrang begins shortly."
"And you, Lady Dittmar?" Grindelwald walks towards her in what looks like a manic frenzy. "Is this your final year at Hogwarts?"
At this nonsensical question I felt confusion. I look to my mother to find her brows knit together again.
"I am not sure what you mean, I am afraid." My mother lies, plainly. Why was she not masking her tells?
"Your daughter wants to know why you aren't lying better." He tells her, wand extended in threat. Her eyes widen in alarm. In fact, mine likely did as well.
My mother tries futilely to grab her wand but it is hexed away in mere milliseconds. I look in fear for my father, who is standing, impassive, wandless, not meeting my eyes.
I do not reach for my wand.
"Crucio!" Grindelwald curses my mother, who falls and writhes on the ground. His countenance has changed from passive danger to an active force. I can tangibly feel the power emanating around him.
He lifts the curse, looking calm and happy. It would have looked normal if he were browsing books in a shop or eating a nice dinner - it was disconcerting and fear-inspiring to see him wear that expression as my mother lie sobbing at his feet.
"You are allied with Dumbledore, are you not?" He demanded of her. Bending down and fisting the collar of my mother's dress his voice darkened considerably. "Don't lie to me."
I distantly wonder if I had ever seen my mother so helpless, and if I could do anything about it. I still had my wand, but even if I were better trained, I doubt I could escape with my own life, let alone my mother's or father's life. Was I meant to be tortured too? I regret supplementing my breakfast with amphetamines; I was far too ready to do something, anything.
I feel a sense of loss that I had unknowingly forfeited any last meal.
"Uta, your mother, Ariadne, has allied herself against this cause." He spoke, "Allied herself against me."
He walked from her. She was now being held at wand point by the minions who arrived with Grindelwald.
"This is unforgivable, is it not?" He tested, mere feet away me. He was approaching me slowly.
My immediate response would be a resounding no. Because this was obviously not the answer he was looking for, I tried to rationalize the answer he wanted of me.
She shared secrets, or plans, or other information with an enemy. Enemy was a subjective term, but having already pledged an allegiance to the wizard now standing before me, mother had betrayed all commitments she made.
My conscious admitted that she might have a good reason for changing her allegiance.
"Ariadne could have redacted her allegiance and not divulged our secrets, Uta. You know this." Grindelwald pried my opinion.
"My mother is going to die." I state, though it was answered as if I had posed a question.
"Undoubtedly." Grindelwald supplied, grinning.
"Betrayal is unforgivable." I supply back monotonously.
"I agree!" He spoke, wand pointing at mother. "Avada Kedavra."
I muffle a gasp as I watch mother fall dead to the ground. It seemed unreal. I am unable to tear my eyes away from mother for what feels like many ages.
"Dietrich, now-" Grindelwald began, gaining my attention.
I can see fury and indignation in my father. I want to tell him, 'Me, too.' I wanted to wrap myself in his embrace. Before I can properly register what's happening my father is on the receiving end of his own killing curse.
I choke out a strangled noise of grief. Upon hearing it, all eyes are on me. I close my eyes and brace myself. After a moment of nothing happening, I crack my eyes open.
"You haven't raised your wand." Grindelwald points out. I realize I had forgotten about it.
"I have no chance of winning." I admit.
He laughs gleefully, in agreement.
"You are going to become my newest addition." He comments, nonchalant. "For now …" He trails off.
My world goes black.
