A/N: Hey, and welcome to my new story, the first seven chapters of which have taken a lot of my time since you last saw me. :P As you know from the summary, this is a fic about Grindelwald. It is written as his autobiography. Before we begin, I would like to inform you all that this story is rated M for a reason. The reason is as follows: this story deals with a lot of potientially offensive subject matter as well as quite a few sensitive topics. I feel it is in my obligation, as the author, to warn all of you that this fic is really not meant for readers under the age of sixteen. Although this warning mostly applies to later chapters, I feel the need to tell you this stuff now so you can back out before you get into it.

I do not want to risk ruining the plot here, but if you really feel you would like to know about the potentially offensive topics and subject matter explored in the story in greater detail, please feel encouraged to contact me. Whether you contact me or not, if you feel you have a good chance of being offended by the content in this story, please find another story to read. And if you choose to continue reading and find yourself offended later on, I don't want to hear it. You've been sufficiently warned.

For those of you who are still here: Without further ado, here's the story! Enjoy, and don't forget reviews are vastly appreciated. No flames, though, please. Concrit is encouraged.

"Black and White"

Part I: April 1889 – September 1893

Chapter One

The teenaged girl lay within the covers of her bed, sleeping soundly. For a moment, I wondered whether to wake her. She looked awfully peaceful, and in a way I wanted nothing more than to leave her a few more hours of that peace, which she hadn't known much of for what had now been a few months.

But I had no choice, I realized. We were out of bread.

And so I shook my sister, ever so gently, knowing she would be angry with me when she woke up, still groggy and fatigued from her abrupt waking. But she would see that I had no choice. I wasn't yet at an age where it was acceptable or safe for me to wander around in the streets, and unless she wanted to starve, she would come with me to get bread.

"Uuugh…" she moaned at last, stirring and shoving her head beneath her pillow. "What?"

"Wake up, Geri, we need bread," I said.

"What time is it?" she asked.

"Eight."

"How the hell do you get up so early?" asked Geri reproachfully.

"Children usually do," I responded.

"Gellert, you'd think with a brain like yours you'd have the sense to sleep a little longer," she sighed, having finally dragged her head out from the pillow. She sat up slowly, rubbed her eyes and looked at me. I just smiled.

"Physiology doesn't lie," I said matter-of-factly. "I'm still six years old, whether my brain likes it or not. You know that."

She sighed again. "We have no bread at all?"

"None whatsoever. Papa probably 'forgot' to buy some again after he ate the last two slices last night."

"Don't talk like that," Geri warned, hearing the reproach in my voice all too well.

"You know it's true," I said. "When was the last time you actually saw our father?"

"Don't be that way, Gel. You know our parents have very demanding jobs. They can't be here all the time like they used to."

"All the time?" I exclaimed as Geri stood up and walked toward her adjoining bathroom. I quickly and indignantly followed suit. "Geri, open your eyes a little bit! They're never here, especially Papa. What's the point of having a well-paying job when you can't even enjoy the benefits? The only reason they come home most of the time is to sleep a few hours in the middle of the night, and then off they go again! You can't tell me they couldn't at least say hello to their children once in a while, or buy us food, or clothes, or all the other things we end up having to get by ourselves."

"No, I can't tell you that," Geri said as she flicked her wand to light the chandelier overhead, and leaned down beneath the vanity cabinet to fetch a cloth. She wet it in her water bowl and wiped her face as I sat on the thick edge of her bath. "But honestly, Gellert, at least we're well-to-do. At least they leave us a nice portion of money in the mornings. We can afford to buy food and nice clothes." At these words, she gestured to her elegant nightgown. "How many girls do you think have nightgowns like this? It takes money to buy nice things. You have to realize, our parents only want nice things for us."

"I'd rather live in a pithole and have them pay some attention to me once in a while," I said stubbornly. "Besides, we were well-to-do even before they became total workaholics. Have you seen the inheritance they got from grandpa Grindelwald? We got a lot more than Gertie's family did, and yet her parents do not work like house-elves."

Geri sighed as she came over and ruffled my hair affectionately. "Stop making so much ado, little brother. We're doing okay, you and I, aren't we? And if my leaving is what's worrying you, you can stop worrying. It's not going to happen."

I smiled slightly. I had never doubted for a moment that Geri would rather die than leave this place, as horrible as it was, for I trusted her blindly and unconditionally. But it was still nice to hear her say the words.

My anger toward my parents having been toned down a little, I slid off the edge of the bath and approached the vanity cabinet. There, I watched curiously as my sister performed countless groomings on her face, her hair, even her fingernails. I never did quite understand girls and their grooming. Once more, I asked Geri why she spent so much time correcting her appearance; after all, we were only going to get bread. She explained that as a woman of high status, it was expected that she looked her best when venturing out in public. As a boy, I didn't have to worry about appearance so much, and especially not at my young age. As long as I combed my hair and wore clean clothes, I would look acceptably decent. For girls Geri's age, it was more important, by the terms of our society, to be impeccably groomed. I sometimes wondered if our society was as strict as Geri perceived it to be, but I didn't question her. I hardly ever questioned my sister. She was only thirteen years old, but considering the enormous responsibility she was forced to maintain at home, I knew she was so much wiser than her age suggested. She seemed an adult to me.

I watched as my sister combed her long hair for the second time. I rolled my eyes.

"Geri, put down the comb and let's go," I said. "Your hair looks great. I'm hungry."

Geri smiled as she looked in the mirror, examining herself from every possible angle. Finally, she marched away from the counter reluctantly, joining me in the doorframe, and we both stepped out of her room. Once downstairs, Geri stepped outside and conceded that it was a bit chilly, and she indicated the coat rack. I nodded and took my light coat, tossing hers over in the process. Soon, we were well on our way.

From the moment I was born, in the late summer of 1882, I had already changed my family's lives.

With the use of magic, our family's private Healer had come to the conclusion that I would not make it to full term. Of course, as these methods were often very accurate, I didn't. I was born nearly a month early… but I was alive. No one had expected that.

If I had been stillborn as predicted, I think my parents would have been sad, but they would have moved on. The truth is, I was a complete accident. My parents only ever wanted one child, and when Geri was born, they were satisfied with her. However, for an unexplainable reason, my mother's contraceptive spell faulted one good day, and I came along, ruining everyone's plans. Little did anyone know that ruining everyone's plans would become routine for me someday.

The only person who was truly delighted by my unexpected birth was, of course, my sister Geri. She'd always wanted a sibling, and ever since my parents began their neverending working binge, I think she became even more thankful for that fateful accident. I felt bad at times that I was placing the burden of a younger sibling on her shoulders during those difficult times, but I was also glad to know that I provided her company.

By the time I was nearly five months old, everyone around me became convinced beyond the flicker of a doubt that I would never be a normal child.

When I began to crawl at the age of three months, barely able to support my still-too-large head, my parents were sufficiently creeped out. But when my first word, at four and a half months, turned out to be an entire sentence – "Do I look bored?" – it was the straw that broke the camel's back.

An extensive psychological evaluation uncovered the somewhat obvious fact that I was extremely intelligent for my age. Healers dubbed me as intellectually advanced. My family translated that into "genius".

During a lesser-scale follow-up with our family Healer, she confirmed another finding to my family: during my check-up, she had discovered that my emotional aptitudes, as well as my intellectual ones, were also grossly overdeveloped for my young age. To say the least, this surprised my family, since I had not yet begun to manifest much emotion. However, as if on cue, about a month later I began to experience toddler-like rage fits and tantrums, and I often cried for hours on end because I felt "insulted" by something my parents had said. My quick mind knew these things were not normal, but since there was apparently nothing I could do about it, I let it slide.

At the age of two years, to my family's delight, I began to show signs of magic. Geri was having trouble lowering the protective rail on my bed when it lowered "by itself" and I jumped out of bed and landed effortlessly onto the ground. Geri yelled to my parents that I was definitely a wizard, and I started laughing hysterically at the look of shock on her face.

From that moment, I entered a brand new world. My parents began to talk more and more about Durmstrang, which was at the time an all-boys school of wizardry. Unfortunately, this meant Geri could not attend, and since the only unisex school, Hogwarts, was judged as too far away from our home in Berlin, it was decided that she would be homeschooled, as many socially comfortable girls were in Germany at the time. Girls from less fortunate families were either somehow sent to Hogwarts, or, it most cases, left without much education, being simply taught whatever their parents had the energy and the knowledge to teach them.

A tutor was hired for Geri when she turned eleven. I was only four years old at the time, but I liked to listen in to her lessons at the door, or even, sometimes, to wander inside the room and watch curiously when my parents were too busy to notice. I wanted so badly to learn. My mind, almost at the same level of understanding as Geri's, was severely restricted by the limits placed on me due to my age. I hated being young. I wanted to be as old as Geri was, to learn the same things as she did, so that my learnings could at last be proportional to my level of intelligence. It was so unfair. I tried to not let myself depress about the injustice of it all, to tell myself that someday soon I'd have my turn. It hardly ever worked.

Geri had her summers off like any regular student would. She would learn from September to late June, and then have July and August off to spend with me and with her few young socialite friends. During those times, we'd celebrate her birthday and mine. Her friends would come over once in a while as well. She had two very close friends, Celina, who originated from France, and Gertrude, who shared my favorite cousin's name. I liked them both, and that was good because I saw them very often, and it would have been rather irritating to spend so much time with someone I entirely disliked. As for me, I didn't have any friends with which to quell my loneliness during Geri's study periods. There were no boys my age living in our grand neighborhood. The only boy at all was a two-year-old by the name of Christopher. He was Gertrude's cousin, but no one would have been stupid enough to expect me to spend my time with him.

Therefore, with the lack of friends to keep me company, and with Geri busy with her magical studies, I turned to the only friend I did have: the family library. Hours and hours I'd spend pouring over books, taking in the theoretical knowledge of all sorts of magic, and discovering places, people and things I'd never dreamed could exist. The world of books quickly enchanted me, and I became so engrossed with them that I gradually became rather antisocial. Of course, that was all right as there really was no way to be social in this place.

One day, at the age of five, I discovered a book by the name of 100 Simple Household Spells. I itched to learn them, and was sure I could with my superior knowledge. I knew that if I learned some magic even before getting in school, I would have an even greater advantage than I did already. As a bonus, learning a few useful household spells at my age would undoubtedly do a good job in impressing my parents. With this in mind, I flipped to a random page and began to read.

" #45: The Packing Spell

If your living quarters, your bedroom, or even your kitchen are disorganized or cluttered, or if you are going on vacation, you can use the Packing spell to collect any clutter and place it into a designated location, be it a cupboard, a suitcase, etcetera. You can also use this spell to pack select items or even a single item by using the incantation "Pack (name item(s))!"

How to use the packing spell:

Point your wand at an area of clutter and use the incantation: "Pack!" When the clutter reacts, point your wand at the location in which you -"

I tossed the book aside, disappointed. It seemed I would not be able to learn this magic after all. The problem? I, of course, did not possess a wand.

The book had fallen a little ways to my right, still at the same page. For some reason, I crawled over and looked at it again, wondering if perhaps I had missed something. It turned out I had, and the words just below what I had previously read jumped out at me like blue on red.

"The Packing spell can also be used by means of:

- Wandless magic
- Nonverbal magic."

The smile had returned to my lips before I could do anything to stop it. Maybe there was a way to learn after all…

Of course, nonverbal magic would be of no use to me without a wand. But wandless magic, now that was a different story. It was so clear in my mind: all I had to do was find a book explaining the procedures of wandless magic, read up on it, and start practicing.

So I tore the library apart to find a book on wandless magic, and when I found it, that's exactly what I did. And let me tell you, there is a first time for everything. As brilliant as I was even at five years old, my mind was still developing. It had not quite reached the level it needed to reach in order to let me succeed in such advanced magic. I needed a brainpower that I simply did not have.

It was hard for me to realize this, but eventually it did strike me. And it was my first heartbreaking, tearjerking, dream-shattering failure. I promised myself I would never fail again… but what a silly thing to promise oneself!

My sixth birthday came and went without much ado. Five months into my new year was when the mess of our lives really began.

In early January, my mother, who'd been at home with us most of the time my father was working, announced that she had been offered a job as a Healer. It wasn't like she needed the job or anything, but as Geri and I both knew, my mother longed for an opportunity to get out there, to do something meaningful with her life. She didn't want to be endlessly cooped up in the house, to die without anyone ever remembering her. My mother always was an ambitious woman, and I think I got that from her to some extent. So when she told us the news, I think it was clearest to me the reason why. It was kind of painful to see her leave for six hours every day, but Geri and I quickly adapted to it. This way, we often got the house to ourselves for some time, which we came to enjoy immensely.

However, things quickly went downhill from there. Not even a month later, my father was promoted to Head Auror. This meant he would be travelling a lot, and when he wasn't he would be on the job at basically all hours of the day. My father gradually began to be away for longer and longer periods. He loved his job so much, sometimes I wondered if he even missed us at all.

Two months later, my mother got promoted to Head of her department. Geri and I both began to cry desperately, begging her not to leave like our father had done, and she promised we'd still see her every day.

She was wrong.

It was now April, and we saw our mother three times a week if we were lucky. But at least she slept at home every night, unlike my father, who was by now so engrossed with his job he rarely came home at all. We often wondered where he was. Geri wanted us to send him an owl, but I dryly replied that I hardly thought him worthwhile of our attentions.

Our father was basically gone, although not officially. We saw our mother twice a week as it was normal, sometimes three times, and sometimes only once.

This was why we were walking the damp streets alone, Geri and I. This was why we needed to buy our own bread. We had parents, but only in the most legal sense. As it seemed, they had all but abandoned us, left us to fend for ourselves in this hard world.

As we approached the market, I grasped Geri's hand. I tried to remember what it was like to be a child, because I knew I was not really a child anymore. Not anymore.

In case you are wondering, yes, it does indeed get better from here. :P Thanks for reading, and hope you'll stay tuned for the next chaps!