Nurmengard Castle, Austria

Queenie stared into the mirror in the quarters she'd been given. The witch who sewed Vinda Rosier's clothes had been enlisted to make Queenie a new wardrobe, and she was certainly skilled. Queenie had never felt so sharply dressed. She had on a black wool dress with silk pleated skirts and white silk cuffs on the sleeves.

"My, don't you look radiant."

Queenie turned to see Vinda coming into her quarters. No one kept doors locked here. It wasn't allowed. To lock one's door meant one was hiding something, and that went against the greater good. Queenie smiled weakly at Vinda Rosier and protested,

"My hair looks a mess."

Elle est plus belle qu'elle ne le sait, thought Vinda, and Queenie frowned as she wondered what that meant. She cleared her throat and turned back toward the mirror, using her wand to straighten her golden waves into a neat arrangement. Suddenly she thought of Jacob, of him screaming at her that she was crazy, and her eyes burned. She could still feel the cool blue flames licking her flesh as she went through them, as she went away from Jacob forever...

"He wants you to dine with him tonight," Vinda said from behind Queenie, and she whirled around in response.

"He… he does?"

Vinda tipped her chin up in the arrogant way she always did. She nodded. "He sent me to tell you. A private meal, you and him, on his main balcony."

"What?" Queenie's voice was hoarse then. She and Grindelwald only ever talked business. They talked about Credence. She read minds for him. She had never sat alone with him for an extended period of time. The idea of it was terrifying.

She wondered, abruptly, where Tina and Newt were right this moment. Were they together? Were they happy? Did it matter?

Nurmengard Castle was full of windows - like the enormous ones that Credence had blown out a few days earlier - but it was also bedecked with balconies that overlooked the snow-capped Alps. The views were positively stunning. Now Queenie found herself walking in t-strap heels that clacked on the marble floors, striding past archways and stained glass, feeling at last like she had a purpose. She was really working here. She wasn't in some droll Ministry position. She wasn't reading minds on a street corner. She was working for the greater good here. The fact that Tina and Newt and Jacob had been too blind too see was… well, it was a damned shame.

Queenie approached the mighty double doorway that led to Grindelwald's office. She'd come here before, to meet with him about a mind that needed investigation or to sit in on a meeting about his ideals. But now she raised her fist and knocked on the double doors with her nerves alight, her stomach fluttering, knowing she'd been invited - ordered - to dinner and wondering why.

The doors creaked open slowly to admit her. Queenie licked her red-painted lip and clacked into the atrium of Grindelwald's office space. On the walls were banners and emblems of the great wizarding families of Europe, and Queenie walked slowly through the corridor as she cleared her throat carefully.

"Miss Goldstein."

She snapped to attention at the sound of his voice, and then she looked up to see him at the end of the hall, waiting with his hands folded before him. Grindelwald was just as neatly dressed as Queenie was, in an elegant black velvet three-piece suit with a matching cape. His ice-blond hair had been carefully coiffed, and he smirked as he held out a hand.

"I hope you're hungry."

Gellert Grindelwald had been on the receiving end of several kisses in his life. He'd given more than a few himself. One very long kiss had been with Albus Dumbledore, though at the time it had felt like an obligation. Albus had been madly in love with Gellert, who in turn had wanted a powerful ally and nothing more. Other kisses had come from wizards he'd seduced to gain power or material goods. Vinda Rosier had tasted like red wine. Witches or wizards… the gender of the lips' owner never mattered. All that mattered was that the kisses were means to an end for Grindelwald. Houses, money, loyalty… kisses could buy those things.

Kisses were interesting things in that way.

Queenie Goldstein, it seemed, did not need to be bought. She was already loyal. She was already hard-working. But, like Vinda, she was beautiful, and she was Grindelwald's. And sometimes he just wanted to play with the things that were his. Sometimes he just wanted to toy with the beautiful creatures who clung to him, like drowning victims clutching to flotsam, ripe for a kiss.

So he'd invited Queenie to dinner. Well, he'd ordered her. He'd sent Vinda to notify her, because that would make Vinda jealous, and a hint of jealousy was healthy among followers. Just enough to keep them on their toes and make them work that much harder.

She had very large eyes, Queenie Goldstein. She had full lips. Gellert Grindelwald noticed beauty in men and women alike, and he noticed it in her. He wandlessly pushed out her chair at the wrought iron table that had been set on his balcony, and she gratefully sat and watched as their glasses filled themselves with red wine.

"Or do you prefer white?" asked Grindelwald lightly. Queenie shook her head and insisted,

"I'm fine with whatever you like. Sir."

"Credence - Aurelius - needs to train with me to learn control with a wand before he leaves us," Grindelwald said, sipping his wine. "What did you sense in his mind when you sat down with him earlier today?"

"He is curious about who his parents are," Queenie answered. "Whether Albus Dumbledore is really his brother. He can't quite believe it still. He won't hesitate to do what you ask of him, because you told him who he is, and that's what he wanted. He's loyal to you."

"Loyal." Grindelwald nodded as steamed mussels appeared on his plate and Queenie's. Thanks to magic, they'd been underwater in the Mediterranean this morning and were on the plate in Austria this evening. Grindelwald opened a mussel and elegantly speared it with a small fork. He ate it and then asked, "What about you, Miss Goldstein?"

"What about me, sir?" She tried her best to be lovely eating, he could see. It worked. She brought the mussel into her mouth and chewed discreetly, staring, and Grindelwald raised his pale brows.

"Do you feel any sense of loyalty?"

Queenie looked surprised by the question, but she finally answered, "I walked through fire once for you, and I'd do it again."

He curled up half his mouth. "Good girl."

Queenie sighed as they finished their mussels, and Grindelwald watched her stare out onto the mountains that surrounded them. She seemed profoundly contemplative, so he sipped his wine and then inquired,

"What are you thinking about?"

"What a wonderful question that is. That's what I'm thinking about." She giggled, in her charming little way, and turned her face back toward him. "You're an Occlumens. Your mind isn't screaming at me the way others' do. I feel like I can… I don't know…"

"Relax?" Grindelwald tipped his head, and Queenie seemed thoughtful as she watched their plates change to small steaks with grilled carrots. She gulped and said,

"You've been so generous since Paris. The clothes, the quarters here…"

"You are an integral part of our movement," Grindelwald said smoothly. "Without your unique skills, we would not be functioning as well as we are. We owe you more than rooms and dresses, Queenie, and you will see reward when the world is ours at last."

Her eyes sparkled strangely then, and she said softly,

"Part of what drew me to you was that I thought you were fighting for me to be able to marry my No-Maj boyfriend, Jacob. But he was screaming at me that I was crazy before I went through the blue flames."

"His eyes are not opened," Grindelwald said regretfully. "Your sister's eyes are not opened. Mr Scamander's eyes are not opened. But we will open many eyes, Queenie, and we will do it together, for the greater good."

He was using her given name now, and she seemed entranced by him doing so. She shut her eyes for a moment, and she whispered,

"Peace."

He let the word hang in the air, let it sit there for a moment without explanation, and then he repeated,

"Peace."

"I feel peace around you, I guess," Queenie said rather awkwardly. "Peace in my mind, and… and knowing about that awful war we're going to prevent."

"Peace." Grindelwald nodded then and cut into his steak. He ate a few bites in silence, and Queenie did the same, until he finally told her,

"Jacob's loss is immense. You would have made a fine wife for him."

Queenie's eyes watered visibly. She blinked quickly and set down her fork and knife.

"I just wanted happiness."

"Do you suppose you can find happiness somewhere else?" Grindelwald asked, and Queenie looked around herself. She took in the mountains, the balcony, the castle, the table, the food… the wizard opposite her. A wide smile broke out across her beautiful face, and she lit up like a candle. She nodded.

"You know, I think I can," she said.

Grindelwald chatted with her about mundanity throughout the rest of dinner and dessert - about the weather here in Austria, about the enchanted doorways in Nurmengard, about trying on hats with Vinda Rosier, and then at last dinner was over and he stood. She quickly rose and said,

"Thank you for the meal, sir."

"I like to meet with everyone individually from time to time. I like to know people more personally, especially those who work closely with me," Grindelwald said. Then, deciding there was neither the time nor the space to hesitate, he walked around to where Queenie stood. He cupped Queenie's face in his hands and bent to kiss her forehead. She seemed shocked by his actions and stared up at him, wide-eyed, until he smiled a little at her and whispered,

"Off to bed, pretty little thing."

She scurried off like a mouse, her heels clicking on the stone and then the marble, leaving him standing on the balcony. Grindelwald waited until she was gone, and then he cursed himself.

Her forehead.

Why hadn't he tasted her lips? It was his right; she was his servant and he used kisses to manipulate witches and wizards alike. Queenie Goldstein was eager and loyal and young and pretty and ripe for a good, solid kiss.

So why had he kissed her forehead?

He couldn't quite figure it out, not even hours later as he lay in his magnificent, stout four-poster bed, staring at the beamed ceiling and remembering all the times his lips had gotten him what he'd wanted out of people… including Albus Dumbledore. Today his lips had failed him.

It would not happen again.

Author's Note: Well, helloooooooooooo, readers! I realize that most people won't be seeing Crimes of Grindelwald for a few days, but I'll already have a few chapters up by then, so that's okay. I also realize this is an odd pairing for this film and I'm probably not going to get a ton of readers (oh, well) but this is the story that wrote itself in my head when I saw the film! I promise I've got lots in store regarding Credence/Aurelius (and Nagini!) as well as Dumbledore, and Newt/Tina/Jacob will also be making appearances. Plus we'll be fleshing out the Vinda Rosier character, which should be fun.

A final note - While we know canonically from JKR that Dumbledore is gay, we also know that Grindelwald never returned those feelings and likely just manipulated Dumbledore. My Grindelwald is being written as bisexual. Take it or leave it! :)

A fair warning that this story absolutely will contain lemons as well as lots of violence.

Thanks so much for reading. Please do leave a review if you get a chance.