This fan fiction belongs to Jin Ginkaku, I only translated it!

Disclaimer: The characters belong to the amazing J.K Rowling. (except a few though...)

Author's Note:

I think this fanfic is rather original in the way that I've never seen a story of this type in French fanfics – no I don't look on the English side.

Let's say without spoiling but to give you an idea, I'll enlarge the HP world which stays very much centered on the United-Kingdom, and build a wizarding Europe. And also show some aspects that aren't shown in HP. So this fanfic will be a bit (a lot) political and very inspired from our good old muggle world. For some examples, I will create a wizards' drug, a mafia system, a wizards' 'UN', well many things like that… well said like this, one could imagine that Harry will fall into drugs, will become part of the mafia but no don't worry!

With that said… enjoy this prologue!

Prologue: A rather surprising revelation...

The whisper following Harry since now two weeks accompanied him up to the second floor. He walked fast, slightly tense, because of this persistent hiss, and of the convocation that brought him to visit the Headmaster in this holidays' eve. He regularly turned round, persuaded of being followed, and not only by students in search of thrill. No, what was following him was far more dangerous than a simple group of students wanting to insult him.

Since Nearly Headless Nick's and Justin Finch-Fletchley's aggressions, a sinister atmosphere hovered over the castle, while everyone accused Harry of being the doer. Even Hermione and Ron didn't talk to him anymore, furious that he didn't tell them for his Parseltongue gift. Gift… or curse, thought Harry bitterly. When did this help him? Of course, talking to snakes was pleasant, but if it was to be seen as a monster, or a dark wizard, he preferred forgetting it, and never cross snakes of his life.

He ended up arriving at the bottom of a corridor, in front of a stone gargoyle that seemed alive. Again, Harry surprised himself to bless magic. He would never have enough time in his life to discover everything of this fantastic world.

"Password?" asked the gargoyle animating itself more frankly, in a sort of stretch which fascinated the Gryffindor at the point where he'd forgotten the question, until the statue repeats, slightly annoyed.

"Hum… Professor Dumbledore called me…" answered the browned-haired boy, taking out the letter he received in the morning. He read quickly the page again, and ended up at the post-scriptum. "Sherbet Lemon?" he tried without great conviction.

The gargoyle nodded and stepped aside. Behind it, the wall opened to let him pass. The young Potter climbed the spiral stairs, marveling again to see magic making the stairs spinning themselves. Finally, after one minute ascending, Harry arrived in front an oak door, surmounted by a knocker representing a phoenix. He knocked shyly at the door, but obtained no answer. He repeated his action and ended up entering in the office.

The office was a pretty and big circular room. At the back, a huge desk in oak and gold sat, with behind it, an armchair at least as imposing. A staircase leading to access a superior floor from where one could see a really massive library as well as a door that probably lead to the Headmasters' apartments. The walls were covered with previous Headmasters' portraits who stared at Harry with an obvious curiosity. On a shelf was the Sorting Hat, still as patched.

The twelve-years-old boy walked in a few steps to observe the small golden instruments aligned on the desk. But something on his right caught his look before he climbed the platform. Standing on a golden roost, he saw a miserable bird, half-plucked, and looking sick. He got closer and wanted to caress it, but when he raised his hand, the bird ignited in a burst of flames.

Harry let escape a scream, looking for something to extinguish the bird that kept burning. In an instant, there was nothing left of the bird, except a pile of ashes. Upstairs, the door opened on Dumbledore, who smiled at his student.

"Hello Harry, how are you?" he asked as he rapidly went down the stairs, while Harry kept staring at the roost.

"Professor… your bird… it caught fire…" stammered the boy, "I couldn't do anything."

"Oh, it's been a while since he wasn't well." Smiled Dumbledore, surprising Harry, who turned away from the roost. "You see Harry, Fawkes is a phoenix. And as all phoenixes, at the moment of his death, he ignites, and then reborn from his ashes."

The Survivor's gaze laid again on the roost, and he jumped, scared when from the ashes rose a baby bird's crumpled head. On a gesture from his Headmaster, he sat, without leaving the sight of the cackling phoenix.

"It's a pity you saw him the day of his combustion." Dumbledore noted. He then frowned his brows and kept talking. "But it's not the reason why I wanted to talk to you. How are you?"

The Gryffindor hesitated then confessed while lowering his head to look at his knees.

"Well… others don't talk to me since the dueling club…"

"I heard about what happened. The Parseltongues, because of certain dark wizards, are rather badly seen by the English, which, between us, is very regrettable. I know of Parseltongues that aren't as bad as I am."

Harry widened his eyes when hearing this. Dumbledore saw it and smiled.

"I've got many friends outside of England, in countries where mentalities are far different from here…" he sighed and continued. "You should not punish yourself for this gift. Even if you don't know why it was given to you, you should be proud to possess it. It is very rare and even more precious. But let's come back to the main subject… I wonder, for some time already… if I haven't committed too much mistakes regarding you. So I think the best is to explain the situation to you and give you the choice."

Harry nodded, intrigued. The Headmaster smiled one last time, and cast a spell on the pictures that became black all of a sudden.

"I prefer our conversation remains private, even if I trust our previous Headmasters. Well, I…" he hesitated, searching his words, even forgetting the student's presence:

"When I was younger, I was a brilliant student, a bit like Miss Granger. I studied a lot, sacrificing my family for my studies. I never came back for holidays, I preferred staying at the castle to benefit of its library. I took interest in everything, History, Runes, Transfiguration, Spells, Alchemy… my hard work gave me my Prefect's status. The summer of my sixth year, I went home, like every summer. My family and I lived in a village mainly wizard, and it's on this summer where I met Gellert Grindelwald, a young man with an immense power, with an infinite ambition. We became friends, and started to correspond during scholar periods. Our research was fascinating. We had the same interests, this insatiable thirst of knowledge, it was as if we belonged to a whole, as our understanding of the other was…"

The Headmaster's voice broke slightly, while his eyes landed on something afar. Harry, in front of him, listened attentively. Deep within, he knew this story was exclusive and not well-known by other wizards and he was proud of the distinction Dumbledore made him.

"At the end of my studies, my mother died, and I had to endorse the charge as head of the family. So I had to stop my research and my studies to take care of my brother and my sister, whom I was mad at. While I stayed at our old house, I received from time to time exhilarating letters from my friend Gellert, who, at this moment, travelled everywhere in Europe. Internally, I burned with jealousy and rage that I couldn't accompany him. Years passed, and I resumed my Transfiguration studies, while keeping my role as head of the family.

"One night, while my brother, my sister and I were at home, Gellert arrived in an impressive state of excitement. He had found elements for our research, and wanted to take me with him. I almost accepted, but my brother got angry, and accused me of abandoning them, him and our sister. Gellert insulted him, saying he was jealous and took his wand out. My brother did likewise, and it ended up degenerating."

The Headmaster's blue eyes closed painfully.

"My sister has always been magically unstable, and the argument caused within her a sort of attack that killed her. Gellert left, leaving me alone with a furious brother. While sadness and remorse gnawed me, I egotistically thought I wouldn't have to take care of my family anymore. It was true. My brother left the day after the burial, and never talked to me since. I was free. I then applied for a teaching position at Hogwarts, and became a Transfiguration teacher, while continuing my research in parallel. However, I forced myself to seclude from my friend Gellert.
Five years after my sister's death, I contacted him back, I couldn't take it anymore. I needed him. It was obvious that my feeling for him had… changed. I finally confessed to him and…"

The Headmaster's look became even more melancholic, while Harry imagined him with another guy. It wasn't this much the fact that he had been with a man, but more that he had been with someone that surprised him.

"We spent one decay together. I taught at Hogwarts, and came back at our accommodation in the evening, where we kept making our research until dawn. During school holidays, we travelled and explored exotic regions where magic was practised otherwise. It was wonderful. We were happy. But this happiness didn't last… In 1914, war broke out, tearing apart Europe and its occupants. Gellert was persuaded we must take advantage of this war to reveal our existence to the Muggles. They were too busy to think about fighting us and would accept us if we proposed to offer our help for the victory. But no one listened, and he started feeding a sense of resentment. He didn't want wizards to hide anymore. War ended, without him calming down. His research became desperate. He wanted us to start a family, which was impossible, obviously. For my part, I discovered my family legacy and endorsed new responsibilities.

"In 1929, while I was named Head of Gryffindor, Gellert surprised me in my office at Hogwarts. He had, it seemed, found a way for two wizards to have a child. It was our greatest desire and during a long year, we put to practice fifteen years of research and theory. This ended up working. The 17th May 1930, Wilhem Xander Grindelwald was born. At that time – and still today – a child had to be conceived by a heterosexual couple, and so we couldn't give him our two names. Because I had to stay most of the year at Hogwarts, he took Gellert's name who raised him. We didn't try to divulge our method, because our society was still very strict regarding people like us.

"Wilhem was beautiful. He brightened our lives to Gellert and me. But again, it seemed to us like our happiness couldn't last. Even though my son was learning how to walk, I went to an orphanage to reveal to a young boy he was a wizard. He was named Tom Riddle. A wizard who, a few years later, would become Lord Voldemort…"

Harry's eyes widened. Voldemort had been an orphan, just like him? His stomach ached, while his gaze slid towards the Sorting Hat. Oh, he remembered what he had told him during the sorting… Slytherin would have guided him on the greatness path. He lowered his eyes on his knees, while Ron's voice echoed within him. You-Know-Who spoke Parseltongue. How many other similarities existed between him and his parents' murderer? He closed his eyes with anguish and focused on Dumbledore's voice who carried on, imperturbable, his story.

"During Tom's scholarship, I constantly kept an eye on him. He seemed strange to me, too perfect. The faculty as well as all students were at his mercy. I was the only one to be cautious about him and I happened to doubt sometimes. The only peaceful moments were when I went back to our apartment, where I could finally see Gellert and Wilhem. Wilhem who grew up slowly. He was very powerful... too much maybe... we didn't know whether it came from us – Gellert approximately had my magical strength, to tell you the truth... – or from the magical conception. However, he quickly had magical accidents of an impressive strength, but they never were dramatic.

"While Tom frequented aristocrats and made connections, the second Muggle World War broke out. At the same time, one reported actions of a dark wizard in Germany. I was designated to fight him. It was the start of a chase which lasted four years. My life was paced by the fights in Germany and in Europe where I had to protect whole villages, my lessons at Hogwarts where I had became the Headmaster of Gryffindor, and my rare moments of rest I devoted to my family. Wizards entirely relied on me, while I wore out day after day. It happened times when I wished to stay in our little apartment and never get out of it ever again. Maybe I should have done this…

"The dark wizard was very clever and skilled. He appeared and disappeared with an incredible speed. No information about him reached me before I cornered him in Berlin, a bombing night. On that night, I signed my own death.
I had always known Gellert wanted the rebirth of the wizarding world, but I never understood that to achieve this, he wanted the death of the Muggles. So, when I saw him, setting buildings on fire..."

There was a silence in the office, while Dumbledore saw the scene again before his eyes. Harry suffered for his Headmaster, and wanted to take his hand a moment, in a comforting way, but when the idea just reached his mind, the story carried on:

"If I knew nothing about this dark wizard, it was because he knew when I had to go to such place, because he knew the way I thought, because he advised me. He knew everything of me and I knew nothing of him, even though he slept next to me every night…
The following fight was terrible. I was torn apart by my love for him and my duty as saviour. After a few hours, I took advantage. I didn't kill him – how could I have had? – but locked him up in Nurmengard. Our son studied at Durmstrang at that time. He didn't forgive me for what I had done and disappeared without leaving me any sign."

This time, the Headmaster's blue eyes shone with tears silently running down his cheeks to end up in his beard. Harry could only feel sorry for the old man.

"While the wizarding world acclaimed me, I was broken, without a family. I went back to Hogwarts, becoming Deputy Headmaster, but the heart just wasn't with me. People congratulated me, smiled to me, gave me the title of Order of Merlin, offered me a Chocolate Frog in my name, and the only thing I could think about was my lost son.

"Years passed, and I kept sinking into solitude. It seemed to me as if nobody was able to understand me. So, I worked, the same way I was used to during my childhood. But the research I conducted changed nothing to my sadness and the emptiness I felt. Then, again, people turned to me when Voldemort got into action. The nightmare started again.

"I had to protect Muggle villages during enemies' raids, collaborate with a Ministry of Magic eaten by corruption and keep directing Hogwarts. But while corpses accumulated around me, I was forgetting my misfortune and, finally, a miracle happened. My son who had heard about me through wizards newspapers came to see me one night.

"He had grown up since the last time I had seen him and his powers had increased a lot... he was just there, in front of me. I forgot about the war for one night. He told me that once he left Durmstrang, he studied Arithmancy and then became a Spells Breaker. He got married to a young lady whom he met during his studies and who was, since then, pregnant.

"The weeks that followed were a mix of battles and meetings with my son. However, it quickly appeared to me that he was sick. I talked to his wife about it, he didn't want to hear anything about it. I made many research before finally understanding.

"Each body has its limits. Wilhem was too powerful for his body. His magic was too condensed within him, and was eating him. I looked for a cure, but it was already too late. A year after seeing him again, he died. His wife gave birth to two beautiful babies, but she joined him during labour, probably because of the magical strength held by the two children.

"So I found myself with two very young orphans during war times. It was impossible for me to keep them. I placed them in two different English families who had proven me more than once to be trustworthy. It was a great sorrow for me, but it seemed to be the best of things to do. I had to fight Voldemort and my grandchildren would have been in danger with me.

"Three months before Voldemort's fall, one of the families has been annihilated during a fight. I took back one of the two twins, but left the other one in his family, thinking he would be safer there. What I didn't know was that a traitor would give the place of their hideout to Voldemort and that he would pay them a visit. The rest of the story is certainly more than familiar to you..."

"Hum... no?" answered Harry, lost.

"It was you, Harry." Dumbledore murmured. "You were the child I had placed at the Potter's place." He continued more rapidly, fearing to be disrupted. "I thought they were safe, but Pettigrew sold them and Voldemort tried to kill you. When I arrived, it was too late. You were the Survivor, but it was impossible for me to take you back. So I placed you with the sister of Lily Potter, your adoptive mother. What I didn't understand was that Petunia loved more than anything her sister and she would hold you responsible for Lily's death. I waited years before seeing you again. The Transfiguration Spell had given you James' and Lily's traits, and when I saw you in the Great Hall for the first time, I thought I could never come back."

"But then... why telling me now?" asked Harry, more and more perplex. He was split between surprise, anger and joy. He always thought he was Harry Potter, even after the discovery of the wizards' world. But apparently, James and Lily were only his adoptive parents, who took him in on the demand of Dumbledore, his grandfather. He had a grandfather!

"I thought you would be happy, but... I was wrong." Admitted the old man looking sorry. "Your status as Survivor is very hard to bear, and I... I propose you to restart everything. You can take back your real identity, your real appearance and live with me. Obviously, if you do not wish so, you can stay Harry Potter..."

"I..."

"You've got all your time to think about it." Assured his grandfather while searching in a drawer of his desk. "I just... I just wanted you... to know this, and decide for yourself."

"But... why did you wait?" exclaimed Harry with curiosity and a slight anger.

The old man sighed:

"I wanted to give Harry Potter a chance. If you take back your real identity, you'll have other problems. But I think you'll be happier."

"So that's why..."

"Yes. In the first place, your safety is compromised at Hogwarts with all these events. And I doubt you'll ever find peace with your Survivor's status. Students can sometimes be very cruel..."

Harry nodded, his eyes reflecting his loneliness and his sadness. There was a voice in his head which told him to wait before deciding, however, he wanted to accept immediately and leave this role.

"What would I do?"

"You'd become my grandson, even if your name will be Grindelwald. Ladislas Alexei Grindelwald. You'll live in the Dumbledore's dwelling, and will study wherever you want. I'd advise you another school rather than Hogwarts, because here you'll be judged by your name…"

"I'd have a family." Softly murmured Harry, already knowing he'd accept. After all, it was his strongest desire, the one shown by the Mirror of Erised.

"Yes…"

There was a silence while grandfather and grandson shared a meaningful look. Then, the youngest boy in the room nodded, and timidly smiled to Dumbledore. The old man smiled back before looking at him over his glasses.

"I don't want you to rush," he reassured him, standing up to look at the yard through a window. "I saw you'll stay at the castle for the holidays starting tomorrow, you've got time to think about it. Come tell me your… decision when you think you're ready."

"But…" tried Harry, who wanted to accept immediately.

"No," softly cut the Headmaster, "what I offer you may seem attractive to you, but you must take your time to take this decision. Once you will have your real appearance, there will be no going back. Moreover, this also means leaving your friends, such as Miss Granger or Mister Weasley…"

The brown-haired nodded, thoughtful. His new grandfather smiled at him one last time before he left the office. While he went down the spiral stairs, the Survivor remembered his Headmaster's speech. He didn't get everything because of his poor knowledge of the magical world. He had understood Grindelwald was a rather wicked wizard, like Voldemort, but a few names like Nurmengard, or Durmstrang let him puzzled. Also, learning that Voldemort had been one of Dumbledore's students was very strange…

Everything was strange, the young Gryffindor thought while heading towards the Common Room. Turning at a corridor, he felt like a presence behind him, and quickly turned round, scrutinizing the darkness of the corridor. There was nothing.

He sighed, relieved, and kept walking. Lately, he became nervous just walking at Hogwarts, but after having heard these dark words – no one else could hear – and discovered many petrified bodies, he didn't feel at ease. If he had stayed, it was only because he knew the Dursley would blame him for his untimely come back.

Once in front of the Fat Lady's Painting, he hesitated a moment. He heard through the canvas the laughter of his fellow classmates, who would keep quiet once he entered, to better stare at him. Even the Fat Lady was looking at him curiously.

"Harry, what are you doing?" called a sudden voice behind him, making him jump.

"Neville!" he exclaimed, smiling. Neville was one of the rare students who didn't consider him as Slytherin's heir, and kept talking to him like before. "What are you doing here?"

"I can ask you the same question." Happily replied his comrade while showing him a book about mandrakes. "I wanted to get information, so I asked Professor Sprout to give me book titles that could interest me."

"It's good!" Harry got excited with a wide smile. He had understood for quite a bit of time that Herbology was the young Longbottom's favourite subject. "I went to see Professor Dumbledore."

"Was it for the rumours... well... you-know-what?" his friend worried.

"No, it was for..."

His voice quietened while he searched for his words. He didn't really see himself telling anyone he wasn't really Harry Potter. Or even that Dumbledore – Albus Dumbledore! – was his grandfather. Fortunately, Neville understood he couldn't talk about it, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to tell me. I'm glad it's not because of what the others say..."

"Thanks Neville..."

The Painting closed, leaving the Survivor alone in the corridor. He went to a window and observed the field. The lawn was covered by a layer of snow which reflected the moon's clarity. The lake, frozen for a week, was now a dark abyss which unconsciously gave chills to Harry.

He quickly turned away from the window and entered the Common Room, which was empty in the holiday's eve, the students packing their luggage. The young Survivor stayed in front of the chimney until midnight, thinking about the future Dumbledore was offering him.

Deep inside, he was in the same situation as a year and a half ago, when Hagrid revealed him the existence of the magical world. He didn't hesitate, mainly because his life couldn't be worse than with the Dursley.

But today?

Now that the entire school perceived him as a danger? And that Ron and Hermione didn't talk to him anymore? Didn't he want a new life, with, this time, a family that would love him?

The fire in the chimney crackled in a sort of answer. He had to decide by himself, he thought in a sigh. However, he would have much preferred not having the choice, that Dumbledore told him he would live with him from there on, without any discussion. This would have been easier. But also very cowardly of him, he noted with a second sigh. Where had been the brave Gryffindor?

He had only two alternatives: either he stayed Harry Potter, the orphan and saviour of the magical world, Parseltongue and presumed Slytherin's heir; or he became Dumbledore's grandson, discovered a family, and restarted a new life more normal, without any Colin Creevey to take a photo of you every time. It was obvious he would regret it his whole life if he declined Dumbledore's offer. Whereas if he accepted it…

He would surely miss Ron and Hermione, but he had already lost friends because of Dudley. And it never was the end of the world.

The Survivor's look brightened. He sat back up from his uncomfortable position – the carpet being soft up to an extent – and went to his bed.

In the dormitory, Ron snored, while Dean and Seamus whispered. They stopped a moment, staring at their classmate who went to bed, and kept their quiet conversation. The Survivor sunk into his blanket, and looked for sleep, that he could unfortunately not reach. What Dumbledore had told him echoes within him for many hours, until he was too tired to think and he fell asleep.

Author's note:

Yes! Grindeldore!

To be honest with you, I've never seen any where they have a child, so I'm rather proud of not taking the idea from someone else... for those who don't like Male Pregnancies, don't worry, there is only the suggestion with the Grindeldore, but otherwise it doesn't appear at all. In all, they were geniuses, but no one else can do the same…

Second point, I've watched Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them – go watch it if you haven't already, which you should have – so I might get inspired from a character (no spoilers) for the rest.

See you for new adventures!

.

Translator's note(s):

F*ck*ng finally! OML I've spent ten hours translating only the prologue! I'm so tired right now. I hope you like the story so far (I personally love it!) there are about eighteen chapters already online, so if you want to have a go at reading the original French story, you know where to go!

I personally know the writer and she gave me her consent for this translation.

I usually write in French too, but I love this fanfic so much I wanted you to be able to enjoy it as well! So there you are! Just give me some time to translate the first chapter, which is obviously longer than this one…

Whatsoever, if you could leave a nice review that would be great, I'll transmit it to the author, and she'll give an answer that I'll give you in the beginning of the next chapter. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the prologue! See you later!

By the way, can you tell this much English isn't my first language?