By all accounts, Cosmina was an ordinary women. Young and newly married, she was adored by her husband and she liked him too. She wasn't exceptionally beautiful but if the jealous stares were anything to go by she was no hag either. She prided herself in her ability to keep up a conversation with the highest intellectuals. Her life as a wife wasn't terribly exciting but it sufficed. When she saw the rare glimpse of true poverty she was glad of her place in life.
Her life would have continued this way, she would have grown old with her husband and would have died a meaningless death with a meaningless life as her legacy. But alas, for better or worse, it was not to be.
It seemed eerily quite in the house that evening. The surrounding area that was usually filled with chatter was now quiet. She didn't want to look out the window, she really didn't. It wasn't right, wasn't proper. Just a peek, she told herself even as a force in the back of her mind protested.
The street was dark and she could barely make out anything. This was unusual too for there would normally be kids playing around and the poor bustling themselves along their seemingly endless journey. Today, there was no one. It seemed it had not been just her mind that had felt the pressure. Though unlike the others, including her husband who was now in their bedroom sleeping, she had refused to comply, to listen to rational thought.
And then there were sharp cracking noises as about half a dozen men and women dressed in somewhat odd clothes, though not too out of place, appeared out of thin air. They seemed to form a circle, each holding a stick in their hands which was alight at the end. Then with the barest sound at all came a person at the centre. He had blonde hair, from what she could see in the dim light. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be breathing deeply as if testing the air out.
In a quick movement his head snapped towards her and his mismatched blue eyes fixated onto hers. They both seemed unable or unwilling to move their gaze. Neither noticed as the world around them crumbled to reveal a barren landscape. Distantly they realised that a siren was blaring without stop. It was he who broke their gaze and looked around, she decided to do so too. She had only begun to realise that this scorched piece of land used to be a city when planes, at least she thought they were planes soared overhead. The young man moved closer to her, and just before he was about to reach me the scene shifted and they were again in a city. It was quiet for the briefest of moments before a sound so loud pierced her ears that she was sure she could no longer hear. Her skin scorched and melted away in an instant and she died.
No, she was back at her home staring into those strange eyes and she could see that he had felt it too. Their death. If anyone asked her to describe the feeling she would only be able to say that it was eternal agony and then eternal peace, quicker than falling asleep.
She backed away from the window and turned but he was there right in front of her. He seemed angry but determined, depressed but hopeful. He seemed... like waves about to crash onto the beach in the most devastating manner. All this should have meant that he was not to be trusted. But they had shared something deeply personal. A secret everyone took to their graves. So when he hugged her she didn't protest. When she sobbed into his arms he said in hushed tones, "Don't worry, friend. We will not let it happen."
Unknown to her then, Grindlewald's acolytes were uprooting any sign of her existence. Her husband died quickly and peacefully in his sleep and so had she for anyone who cared to investigate. The only reason she continued to exist was because everyone expected Grindelwald to finish the job. Her ordinary life was then over and that was one thing she never regretted.
AN: I'll be honest. I don't have this story all planned out and Cosmina is going to be more of a Watson to Grindelwald than anything else. Of course she is still the main character and the goal is to see the Wizarding World through her eyes but she is gonna more just react to stuff while Grindelwald is the protagonist. The hero, if you will. I hope stuff in this chapter will make more sense in the coming chapters which I will try to upload daily if short or weekly if I managed to write 10000 words for a chapter.P. S. I am trying my best to figure out the timeline of everything without access to my trusty laptop and just my tablet. So if someone who knows a lot about the World Wars and the environment of those times would like to help me then that would be great.