** May, 1899**
''You, insolent little shit!''
Gellert was being dragged to the portkey; His mother and Hans, they had come to pick him up. He had been expelled. An empty foreboding feeling started to settle in his stomach. This was not a simple fire in the owlery. Expulsion. He was going to hurt. Gellert had tried to stall by walking slower, but Hans had simply grabbed him by the elbow and has been dragging him along at a brisk pace. His mother was avoiding his pleading gaze, and was instead seemingly engrossed with the scenery around the castle. Durmstrang; his home away from home, his refuge. He would probably never see it again. A swift pang shot through him at the thought. But no, he had a good reason for this experiment. That boy just had to pay. He only felt miserable about the fact that he got caught doing it. And he only felt guilty because if he'd done a better job the wretched shit would not only miss his eye and three fingers, but both hands and his face.
Hans got them to the portkey and within a few seconds all three were standing in the back yard. The white picket fence was high enough to avoid any muggles from prying into the magical home. The Grindelwalds were by far not the only magical family living in Bern, but the small village was still mostly populated by muggles. Gellert steeled himself for the expected thrashing.
Hans was still firmly holding him at the elbow. With a rough tug he pulled Gellert inside. As soon as Hans was over the threshold he threw Gellert against the island, letting him crumble to the floor. Hans then calmly closed the kitchen door and grabbed him by his ankles. Gellert starting kicking. He had to get out, to get away. The punishment over the year had not gotten any kinder. Now that he was expelled... Gellert kicked Hans away and quickly tried to get up. If he got to his room, he could lock himself in and climb out of the window. They had not taken his wand from him so he could enchant his sheets. Yes! that would work. He ran for the stairs, but was blocked. His mother.
His mother usually stayed out of the way when Hans was ''disciplining'' him, so why now? He tried to move around her, but she grabbed his wrist. ''Mother please, let go!'' She held on to his sleeve. ''Gellert, why?'' She looked at him with sad eyes. Her gaze turned wistful when she looked past his shoulder. Gellert was suddenly yanked backwards by Hans. ''No! Mother please!'' he screamed as Hans was dragging him into the drawing room. She kept looking at him almost as if in a daze. ''Don't worry darling, you just need to learn how to listen.''
And then the door was closed and he was alone. With Hans. Hans wasted no time and balled his hand into a fist and hit him right at the temple. Gellert fell back on the floor, but Hans didn't stop. He moved on top of him, his weight pinning Gellert to the ground and kept assaulting his face with punches. Gellert tried to shield his face, by pushing Hans away, but he was no match. Hands wrapped themselves around his throat then, and he suddenly couldn't breathe anymore. He began thrashing harder. ''Please'' He chocked out, like he always did. Pure fear settled in as black spots started to cloud his vision. He stopped flailing, his eyes closing. And then he could breathe again.
Gellert woke up in his bed. It was night. His eyes were crusted together and he instinctually went to rub it away. A blinding pain suddenly overtook him and he remembered; he got his face bashed in. The scent of Dittany still hung in the air, and he saw the container on the nightstand. His mother. She always tended to him after a bad time. He couldn't understand how she could watch him being beaten like this, yet do nothing, but still tend to his injuries afterwards as if she wanted him save.
The door suddenly opened, light blinded his tender swollen eyes. The deep voice of Hans was unnaturally loud to his ears. ''You are leaving this house, you hear me. Your mother and I have decided that it would be best if you were to spend your time in a different environment. Somewhere far away from here.'' Gellert stared at him owlishly, the pain from the fresh beating, making his head feel fuzzy. Going away? Hans continued - ''You are a plague on this family, so we are sending you to England. Your mother has an aunt living there and thank fucking Merling, as she has agreed to take you in.'' England? Gellert stayed quiet. What was there to say? Please let me stay? Don't send me away? He doesn't want to stay here, so would it really be that bad? He would miss the woods, and the river, but could it be worse than living in this house?
Hans spoke again.'' I trust you understand that you will be expected to behave? Because, you see, if you screw this up, Gellert, I will make you suffer. I will make you suffer in ways you have never imagined.'' To emphasize, Hans walked to the bed and leaned over him. Gellert tried to stay calm. ''I understand, sir.'' He said softly, his gaze directed at the bed cover.
Hans trailed his hand over Gellert's arm, down to his side. ''I don't think you understand, boy.'' Hans moved onto the bed, looming over Gellert. Gellert tried to shrink away from the unwanted touch. Hans simply grabbed his wrists and pinned them both down with one hand. Hans had never touched him like this before. Gellert tried to use his legs to push Hans off, but then he was flipped onto his stomach. A weight settled on top of him. He couldn't move. Hans' breath was hot against his ear. ''I will show you real pain, you little shit.'' Gellert felt Hans' wand pressing against his shoulder. The word was spoken quietly, but the way Hans was breathing into his ear, it was unmistakeable. ''Crucio.''
Gellert felt as if he was being burned alive, a thousand knives were stabbing him at once. Without conscious thought he let out a ragged scream. He started thrashing, his muscles convulsing under the spell. Tears rolled down his face, the pain making him wail like a small child. Hans looked down at the boy underneath him. His screams and sobs music to his ears. He'd wanted to do this for a long time. Seeing the little shit brought down. But Hans wouldn't be satisfied with pathetic crying this time.
Hans stopped his assault, and felt Gellert go limp underneath him. The friction that the boy had been providing stopped and Hans grunted in frustration. He rubbed himself against the soft body underneath him. A pitiful whimper came from the object of his frustration. Hans pushed himself against Gellert again and the latter started thrashing again. ''Stop, get of me!'' Gellert's voice was muffled by the pillow. He could feel Hans' erection pushing against his bum. Tears still rolled down his face, his entire body sore. ''Please, stop. Please'' He cried. He was a virgin. Gellert shook his head. Not like this, please Merling not like this. Hans started to suggestively grind against Gellert. His moans, loud and moist in Gellert's ear. Hans' hands were suddenly at Gellert's pyjama bottoms, pulling them down, exposing him. ''No please, please stop.'' Gellert sobbed. He heard Hans lowering his zipper and pulling his trousers, then his pants down.
Hans grinded his erection against Gellert's bottom again, this time flesh against flesh. The hopelessness of the situation started to sink in for Gellert. Hans was going to rape him.
Hans spoke again, his disgusting breath in his ear. ''I want you to beg me.'' Hans said as he grinded against him again. Gellert sobbed again, ''Please, please!''. Hans ground against him again, moaning shamelessly. ''No, I want to hear you say 'I beg you'.''
Gellert didn't care what he had to say, he just wanted this to end, for Hans to leave him alone. ''Please, I beg you! Please, please, please...'' Gellert repeated it like a mantra until he heard Hans chuckle in his ear. ''was that so hard now, hmm?'' Hans said. After a few seconds Hans pulled his pants and trousers back on and patted Gellert's head before getting off him. ''This is your warning. You will behave in England. Do you understand me?'' Gellert felt Hans' hand cup his left buttock. He weakly shook his head yes, and sobbed an affirmation in the pillow. That seemed to satisfy Hans, and the hand on his buttock disappeared. With that Hans left the room and shut the door. Gellert didn't move, didn't dare move. Instead, he let out a sob, crying helplessly into the pillow. He could feel the cold night air on his exposed buttocks, and how his shirt stuck to his back because of the sweat. It wasn't until after all the lights in the house had gone out, and he was certain everyone was asleep, that he pulled up his pyjama bottoms. He curled into a ball. He couldn't sleep. In the morning he heard his door getting locked. After another hour he heard his mother and Hans leave the house. It wasn't until thenhe could fall asleep.
**Present day, 1899**
Bathilda Bagshot is walking home. It has been a tiresome day filled with misery. Kendra Dumbledore was not well known in Godric's hollow, but nevertheless Bathilda feels her loss. She especially feels for the eldest Dumbledore child; Albus. She saw him at the funeral, looking heartbroken and defeated. She will come by tomorrow to see how he and his siblings are doing. Tonight, she is going to clean out the guest room. She had gotten an owl from her niece, asking to take in her son, Gellert, for some time. The boy she described is sixteen, and has been expelled from Durmstrang. The letter did not explain the reason for his expulsion, only that it's urgent that he finds a different place to live. Her niece's writing ensured her that this Gellert is a good boy with a lot of ambition and that he shan't cause any trouble. Bathilda was a bit hesitant at first, but she reckoned it wouldn't cause any harm. She spends most of her days alone in her house, and this great-nephew could help her spruce up the garden. So, she had written back that it is okay to send him over, and that she would be happy to take care of Gellert for the summer.
Once at home, she walks upstairs to the guestroom. Now that she is standing in the room that her visitor will occupy, she wishes she had given it a bit more thought. What does a sixteen-year-old need? She starts with cleaning out all the random piles of books, then gives the place a good dusting and changes the bedding. She does this with a few flicks of her wand. Sitting down on the now clean covers, Bathilda floats over some paper and a quill. ''What does a sixteen-year-old boy need?'' she says aloud. The quill starts taking down her notes on the paper at her words, hovering next to her. Bathilda looks down at herself, looking at her robe. ''Clothes. Like... Trousers! Trousers, and shirts, undershirts, socks, panties. No, pants.'' She looks around the room, thinking of more things. ''Shoes?'' She goes on like that for some time until she cannot think of more things to add. Looking at the list, she makes her way down to the kitchen. She waves her hands and the kettle put itself on, and her favourite cup floats over. Gellert. Gellert Grindelwald. She has never met him. She tries to picture him in her head, but with nothing to go on expect 'being good, and having ambition', she only sees some shapeless teenage blob. She guesses she will just have to wait until next week when he would be here. That is plenty of time to get everything she needs. ''shaving cream!'' she said out loud, again, the quill writing it down. Yes, Bathilda decides, she is looking forward to Gellert Grindelwald visiting.
The next few days for Bathilda are spent shopping for toiletries, linen and other random things. She decided to wait with the clothing until her great-nephew's arrival. According to her niece's correspondence he will be arriving tomorrow. Until then Bathilda just moves through the house, cleaning as she went. She had forgotten how many books are scattered throughout the house, randomly positioned at the strangest places. She even found some underneath the kitchen sink.
The following day she got up earlier than usual, surprising herself. Despite nearing forty, she feels slight nerves over meeting this boy. She is feeling nervous over the responsibilities; she has never taken care of another human being like this. What if he doesn't listen to her rules? What if he only speaks German? She sips her morning tea slowly, letting it calm her. It will be fine, he is family after all, and she can teach him English if he has trouble with it. She wishes that her niece had been more specific about the timing though...
She waited all morning in anticipation, but gave up after eleven. Now the clock is nearing one, and she is sitting in her study; reviewing possible material for the seventhchapter of her work-in-progress. Then she heard it; a loud crack, a crash and someone groaning.
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