I have wanted to write a fanfic for Gellert Grindelwald for a while, but until now, the story has eluded me. I hope you like it! --Snapeisnotevil
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Prologue
I believe it as my duty to explain my true intentions. Sitting here in the prison I once had control of, I have nothing better to occupy my time with than fighting out my case. It is unfortunate that the name of Gellert Grindelwald has become such a hated topic. I never felt the need to destroy the muggles. In fact, I had no hatred for them at all. I simply understood the importance of setting in place a system of control. Leaving such naïve beings to survive on their own is a most risky thing to do. Take for instance the witch burnings. Although it caused our kind little harm, it is a definite warning of what these muggles might possibly do in the future. It is not understood how my intentions were, in fact, for the greater good of the wizarding community. Here is my life's story. Read it, and I hope dearly that you will, in turn, come to respect my deeds and what I sacrificed.
Gellert Grindelwald
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Chapter 1
The Beginning of a Wizard
As it has been suspected, I was born into a very wealthy and respected Pure-Blood wizarding family. I was pampered and spoiled, and was grew up completely surrounded by magic. Well, not quite.
When I was born, my name was almost immediately put down for entrance into Durmstrang, a highly respected wizarding school in which the whole of my family had attended. However, as I came closer and closer to the school's admittance age, it became increasingly apparent in my lack of magical ability. I had not shown any signs of being magical at all. In fear of having produced a squib, my parents hired the most well-respected wizarding tutors they could find. By the age of nine, I was an expert in magical theory, though that seemed to be my limit.
When I was not occupied with my lessons, which seemed only rare occasions, I would immerse myself in whatever piece of literature I could find, though I had become rather particular to stories of muggles. I had heard my parents, on occasion, discuss those curious non-magical beings, but usually kept it a hushed topic when I was around. Afraid that I was doomed to a life like the muggles, I was eager to find anything I could. I began with Shakespeare, but quickly dropped that idea as I came to particularly farfetched play with witches. I quickly moved through many well-known muggle authors, but was disappointed in my findings. I could never live such a life! It then became my sole purpose to bring out even the slightest bit of magic in myself.
It was the day after my 10th birthday that I received my wish. I had spent the day before rather depressed, for my parents had given me only books rather than the many wizarding toys I had hoped for. They, by this point, had given up hope for me, though my tutoring never ceased.
The day after my dull birthday I had all but locked myself into the family library. I sat surrounded on all sides by the books I had read multiple times, but today I was not in the mood to read. I simply sat there, staring at the family portraits covering the walls not hidden by bookshelves. It wasn't long before my emotions got the better of me. I could taste the tears running down my face and felt my throat strain in protest to my screaming.
And then it happened. The books around me started to fling everywhere, but I did not touch a single one. My parents, hearing my screaming, barged through the door I had shabbily blockaded with a chair. I remember my mother running to me and my father jumping in delight. It was not as we had feared. I was a wizard!
After that day, I made my new drive in life in becoming as powerful as I could. I felt I had to make up for the many years I had wasted studying muggles. I knew from then on that I would have to do something about the non-magical humans. I had lived their life and knew that they needed help, structure. They must be put under control.