Author note: So this story kept twirling around in my head and I had to write it down. As always I do not own any of the characters. They are either owned by CBS (CSI characters) or by the fabulous J. K. Rowling (Harry Potter characters).
Slytherin and Grindelwald
Las Vegas, the city of neon lights. The yellow, red and green flashes coming from a dark alley made no one wonder what was going on. Passers by thought one of the many neon lights, lighting up the large city at night, had broken and was dying, flashing until it gave out. The citizens of Las Vegas knew not to wander into a dark seedy alley if you wished to stay out of trouble or simply if you wanted to stay alive. If someone had stayed and watched the alley, they would have seen the flashes start and stop suddenly, but they would most probably not have seen the clad in black figures. If someone had walked into the alley after the flashes had stopped, they would have seen nothing that could have explained the flashes, they would have seen dumpsters, one door, blackened walls, but no broken neon lights, no persons clad in black. The alley ended in a dead end…
So different from the busy, bustling city Las Vegas is the vast, empty, barren Nevada dessert. On one of the highest sand dunes, deep in the dessert, a black cloud appeared. As the black swirling smoke cleared a lone figure was revealed. A black cloak flicked around the figure, which stood motionless, looking at the dark sky, looking at the strange multi-coloured glow where the city Las Vegas was. The figure was deep in the dessert, so deep that only the glow reminded of the city. No person would pass here. It was a good safe place to Apparate. It was a much better place then the alley where they had battled. The alley had been a risky place, but they hadn't had a choice. A gust of wind blew the cloak open, revealing a feminine body in jeans and a loose shirt. Raising her hands the woman lowered the hood of her cloak, revealing her brown hair tied in a low bun. Her hand released her wavy hair, pushing a few locks behind her ears. From the corner of her eye she saw some liquid on her arm, glistening in the pale light of the moon, her eyes drifted up to the silver disc in the dark sky. The deep of night that is where she lived, that is what she knew. She refocused on her arms, softly cursing: "Damn! He got me." As she said it she felt the open wound sting. Looking more closely she saw that the wound would not easily heal. Sighing the woman pulled her shirt up at her side. A small flame shaped scar became visible, the woman touched it and the scar briefly became orange and yellow coloured, as if it was a real flame. Tuning her brown eyes to the sky, she searched it for her coming friend. While she waited the woman remembered how she had gotten the scar. It had been the most, no the next to most amazing meeting she had had.
The young brown haired, brown eyed girl had often visited her neighbours, even though her parents had forbidden her to go there. The neighbours were friendly, unlike her parents they cared for her. But the neighbours also had an amazing bird; it had beautiful feathers and colours like fire. When it flew it was like a flame in the night. It had been a phoenix. One day the girl came and saw the bird burst into flame, she ran to put the flames out, trying to save the bird. In her attempt she got a burn on her side, the neighbours returned home to find the little girl crying amidst the ashes. They explained to her that the phoenix would be reborn and that it hadn't died. That day a whole new world had opened for the girl.
Nowadays whenever the woman touched the scar a phoenix from nearby, or her own phoenix, would find her and help her, like she had helped that first phoenix she ever saw.
The woman briefly closed her eyes and sank down into the sand. She had all the time in the world; nobody would miss her on her night off. It had been luck and nothing else that she found Dolohyev on her one free night. She worked too hard and too much, her boss and colleagues often told her, but they didn't know that her work helped her focus and helped her in the other thing, the other life she led. She had managed to track down Dolohyev through her job. The fight had been tougher than she had thought it would be, but in the end she had won, without killing Dolohyev, she had brought him to the pick-up place, leaving it to others to put him in prison. Suddenly a flame came shooting towards her, only when it was close by did the woman stand: "Fawkes!?" she exclaimed, surprised to see this particular phoenix respond to her call. "What are you doing here? Where is Athena or Xenob?" the woman asked, thinking of her own phoenix Athena and the old, solitary phoenix Xenob, which reminded her of her boss. Fawkes only hooted, not being able to talk. "It is good to see you again; could you heal this wound please?" The woman lifted her wounded arm; Fawkes laid his head on her arm and shed two tears. When the tears of the phoenix came in contact with the wound, the wound immediately healed. "Thank you, Fawkes." She said. The phoenix grabbed her cloak and tugged. "What is it Fawkes?" The bird pulled harder, clearly trying to get her to follow him. "Okay, okay, I'm coming." The woman lifted her arm and Fawkes settled on her arm. The woman closed her eyes and turned, disappearing in a black cloud.
She Apparated in the place where Fawkes had led the Apparition. Looking around the woman found herself in a house. "Where did you bring me, Fawkes?" she asked, no answer came from Fawkes, who simply sat on the back of a chair. "Fawkes, we are in someone's home, what are we doing here?" The home was dark, silent; the inhabitants were most likely sleeping.
"Fawkes brought you to the place where you were meant to be Saryna Salaza Slytherin." A soft voice said, behind the woman. She narrowed her eyes, puckered her mouth and said without turning around: "Only one man calls me by that name…Albus Dumbledore." Then she turned and stared into the face of an old man. Dumbledore's eyes looked over the rim of his glasses, his clear blue eyes twinkled. The woman's eyes travelled to the two persons standing next to him: "You brought guests. Mrs McGonagall, Mr. Snape." She slowly and thoughtfully said. The old woman with a low bun and sharp eyes nodded. The other man with a white face and black greasy hair bowed his head in acknowledgement. "Why are you here? You returned all my magical creatures, if you wanted to borrow one or advice, you could have sent me an owl." Saryna asked, as she returned her focus on Dumbledore. He looked at the stubborn, not amused woman before him and waited a few moments. He raised his arm and Fawkes flew to sit on the raised arm. "Why did you call for Fawkes?" Dumbledore asked.
"I got in a fight with Dolohyev, he managed to wound me, so I called for a phoenix, and apparently Fawkes was closest. However I find it hard to believe that is the reason why you are here." Saryna challenged, maintaining her eye contact with Dumbledore.
"It is not the reason why we are here." Dumbledore paused, as if he was reluctant to give Saryna the real reason. Saryna sighed and broke the eye contact; she looked around, taking in her surroundings. The room seemed familiar and when she saw the mounted butterflies she knew where she was. Shocked she turned to Dumbledore, veiling her shock in time and feigning boredom she asked: "What did you do to the inhabitant? Send him to an insect convention?"
"We don't need to send him away Saryna." Dumbledore responded. Throwing her arms up and taking a step back Saryna sighed in annoyance: "You are the only one who uses that name. It is an ancient name, I'm known as…"
"Sara Sidle." A male voice said from behind the three Hogwarts teachers. Saryna would have recognised that voice anywhere. This night was going from bad to worse. Sara didn't know how she could start to explain this mess to her boss. The first words that came from Sara's lips were: "That is right: I'm known as Sara Sidle." The other three persons had turned to look at the intruder: a man with greying hair, blue eyes and a cleft in his chin. McGonagall was the first who saw the quiet interaction between Sara and the man and she commented on it: "Do you know each other?" hardly veiling her surprise. As the man made no move to answer that question, Sara felt pressured to do so: "Yes, this is Dr. Grissom, he's my boss." Sara took Grissom's appearance in, he was wearing black trousers and a black t-shirt, in one hand he held a briefcase, a jacket and a slip of parchment, in the other he held a wand. "And evidently he is also a wizard."
Snape's sharp, surprised voice, cut through the silence: "You two didn't know from each other that you are magical? Two descendants from such powerful families."
"Powerful family?" Sara said looking at Grissom with her arms crossed, showing nothing. Again Grissom didn't move to answer. Sara wasn't surprised, her boss Gilbert Grissom was known to be a highly private person, just like her. "His name is Gilbert Gellert Grindelwald Grissom. He is, like you, a powerful wizard." Dumbledore calmly explained. Sara kept looking at Grissom; she raised her eyebrow, in the way Grissom knew so well, as she commented: "Grindelwald? A powerful family indeed. Why aren't you at work?"
"I got this message." Grissom said, holding up the parchment. "We never see owls around the lab." Grissom continued, looking at Dumbledore. Sara looked at Dumbledore, he remained motionless, unmoved by what had happened. "Well if you want to speak to Grissom I'll be going; make something of my free night or what's left of it anyway. Thank you, Fawkes." Sara petted the phoenix and turned, ready to walk away. "I am not the only one who calls you by your full name, Saryna Salaza Slytherin." Dumbledore calmly said to Sara's back, which stopped. All faces were turned to Sara; she could feel the eyes in her back. Silence…
"The Dark Lord has risen."
"Slytherin?"
Sara's back didn't move. "What do you want?" she whispered, she didn't respond to Grissom's utterance of her family name. She would deal whit him later, alone. "I want to know what you know." Dumbledore responded: "Why did he leave Albania for America for one year?" At that Sara turned around, fire was visible in her eyes: "why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?'
"I need you to tell me."
"Come and see me when you're finished with the business you have with Grissom." Sara turned to walk away, but once again Dumbledore stopped her, he rose: "No, this is more important, we have to talk about this."
"You and I? maybe…them? No." Sara decidedly said.
"What you tell could influence the business I have with Grissom." Dumbledore calmly said. Sara looked at Dumbledore who had stepped closer to her. She remained silent. Grissom could see her reluctance; unlike the other persons he saw the minute movements in her jaw. He realised that Dumbledore was asking her to tell them something extremely private. Sara didn't easily share extremely private information. It had take Grissom quite some persuasion and pressure to get Sara to tell him about her personal live and not it seemed she had been keeping the same secret, he himself had worked hard at keeping a secret as well, their magical powers and family names.
As the silence continued Grissom looked from Sara to Dumbledore and back, just like Snape and McGonagall were doing.
"Severus, maybe we should go." McGonagall suggested when no one made a move to break the silence. Without taking his eyes off of Sara Dumbledore said: "No Minerva, I want you and Severus to stay and listen. If we want to stop Voldemort we have to do it together." The only reaction Sara gave was the raising of one eyebrow. Grissom had half a mind to leave, until he realised they were still in his house.
"You want to hear the whole sordid story?" Sara challenged Dumbledore.
"Yes, please." Sara continued to look at Dumbledore an saw no sigh of him relenting. Breathing in deeply and releasing the breath, Sara briefly closed her eyes and said: "Do you have a Pensieve?"
"Not on me."
"In the closet behind you." Grissom responded, realizing Sara was asking him for the Pensieve. Sara got her wand and used a summoning spell to get it. A large stone basin came floating to her. Sara set it on the coffee table. "Fifteen, sixteen years ago I studied at Harvard. It was my second year. I was drinking coffee in a bar and reading a couple of interesting articles. A slender, handsome black haired man came to me: "Miss Saryna Salaza Slytherin, you are a difficult lady to track down." He said. "It is when you are looking in the wrong world, mister." I responded. I wanted to be left alone, but he didn't get the message. "Riddle, Tom Riddle. You have a formidable name and ancestry." "My grandfather used to say so and several other people too." "Why do you waste your talent for magic on muggle studies?" I was getting annoyed so I told him to leave me alone. Mister Riddle left telling me he would contact me again. Come and see our next meeting." Sara let two tears, silvery, fall in the Pensive. The four other wizards came closer and along with Sara got sucked in to the Pensieve. The surroundings formed through the silvery fog, a lone park, and almost empty save from a solitary brown haired young Sara, who was walking around deep in thought, when suddenly a younger Tom Riddle appeared behind her. The older Sara took a seat on one of the benches, as the other persons looked around, getting their bearings. Sara sat back to observe their reactions to the scene unfolding before them.
"I didn't tell you the truth." Tom said without letting Sara know he was there. Sara looked around and steed still. "Oh it's you again. Didn't I tell you to leave me alone?" Tom didn't respond to Sara's words, but continued on his own thought trail: "My name isn't Tom Riddle, it is Lord Voldemort."
"The titled doesn't impress me at all." Sara started to walk away. "I thought he would stay behind. I didn't want to talk to him." The older Sara commented for the benefit of Grissom, Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall.
Apparently Voldemort wasn't easily lost, because he followed Sara: "I didn't put Lord in front of my name for you."
"Good." Sara curtly and bluntly said.
"Why do you hide behind your muggle name?" Voldemort continued, unperturbed. Sighing in frustration Sara turned around and almost shouted: "What will make you realize I don't want to talk to you?" Voldemort wasn't surprised or shocked, he merely kept asking: "Why do you waste your magical talents by going to a muggle college? It's such a waste of time. You could be such a great witch if you put your mind to it. I saw your school records and I heard you are the best student that school or probably any magical school has ever had. Why would you waste that by turning your back to the magical world?" Sara Looked shocked: "How did you get access to my school records?"
"I teach Defence against the Dark Arts at your old school. It was easy." Voldemort didn't apologize for his knowledge. Sara was speechless, which even then was difficult to achieve, she threw up her arms and turned around, walking away briskly. Voldemort followed her again, not at all discouraged. "Why don't you use your magic to get rid of me?" he asked, his eyes shining: "I would love to see you do some magic, some say it is a work of art." Sara didn't respond.
"Ignoring me isn't going to make me go away."
"What will make you go away?"
"Explain to me why you don't do magic."
"Because I've seen what it can do in the wrong hands, because everybody expects too much, because the muggle world is interesting. Take your pick." Sara rattled of not looking at Voldemort. "Not good enough. In two months I leave for Albania again. I might try to get a position as professor in Defence against the Dark Arts in Hogwarts, just for a year. But I'll definitely go to Albania first."
"Good for you." Sara muttered under her breath.
"I want you to come to Albania with me." Voldemort said.
"Yeah, right. In your dreams, mister." Sara muttered once again.
"No for real. Come with me; study the Dark Arts with me."
"The Dark Arts?" The comment made Sara stop in her tracks. Her future self saw the heightened interest in the other onlookers. "I thought you taught Defence against the Dark Arts?"
"I do, but only because that way I know what obstacles I have to overcome with my magic." Voldemort calmly said, not seeing any harm. "It'll be fun. You and I can be the greatest wizards in our time. We are both from the Slytherin family, let's show the might of the Slythering family, and let's continue the lineage. You and I, we can do that, we have that power." Voldemort continued, trying to convince Sara. But she took some steps back, when she saw the power hungry Voldemort come towards her. "You are crazy. I'll never come to you."
"Oh yes you will. One day you'll come begging me to take you in. And I will…on my terms." Voldemort menacingly said, he tried to grab Sara, but she was faster, she spun and disappeared in a large black mist. With her the scenery vanished an all wizards found themselves once again in Grissom's home.
Sara looked around and let everybody take in and store what they had seen. After a few moments she spoke up again: "I didn't see him again, but two months later I got this." Sara stirred in the Pensieve and a silvery object rose from it. Snape in reflex grabbed his forearm. The silvery skull floated in the air and through its open mouth a snake slithered out. It hissed and then there was silence. "It said: I'm back in Albania, I'll be thinking of you." Sara translated.
"You speak parseltongue." Dumbledore said.
"Of course, I'm a direct descendant from Salazar Slytherin." Sara replied. "I get such a skull every so often. The snake is not always alive. Actually there was a blissful period of eleven years in which I didn't get skulls. He doesn't send them to me personally, but he makes sure I get to see them. A couple of weeks ago I got the last one. Remember Nicky's case, Grissom?" Sara turned to Grissom, who nodded. He had heard of it, a dead body with a dead snake in the mouth. "Voldemort was telling me he was back completely and still thinking of me. It is the original Dark Mark, as far as I know I'm the only one on whom the questionable honour befalls of receiving it." Sara paused for a moment so it could sink in.
"There is something I don't understand." McGonagall thoughtfully said: "Albus, you have always told me Voldemort was a descendant from Slytherin."
"He is." Dumbledore confirmed.
"Then why did he go through all the trouble to find Miss Sidle? Why does he have her on a pedestal?" Dumbledore turned to Sara, who understood that she was to explain it. "Salazar Slytherin had two sons. Tom Riddle is a descendant from the second son. I am the descendant from the first son. I think that in Riddles eyes that made me important."
"So he wanted you for your place in the Slytherin family?"
"For my name." Sara stated, not beating around the bush. Silence settled over the house once more.
"He wanted a child with you." Grissom darkly said. He had hidden half in the shadows, but no matter how far he would go, Sara would never forget him. Ow she turned to him solemnly, she watched him intently. His voice had betrayed him partially: he was emotional. But was it because he didn't like it that Voldemort had shown an interest in her or was it because Voldemort had tried to use her? Grissom looked at Sara, his face like a stone, but his eyes were alive. Sara focussed on them trying to see past the clear blue puddles, straight into his brain, his soul. It didn't work. Grissom looked into Sara's searching eyes, clearly she was trying to see his thoughts, on a crime scene she could easily read his mind, but now she couldn't. In that moment only Sara and Grissom mattered, the other wizard were irrelevant. "No, he still wants a child with me, more specifically: a son." Sara silenced and then said: "He won't get it." Then she turned away from Grissom, after she reassured him with her eyes.
"The Dark Lord always gets what he wants." Snape ominously said. Sara looked at him an let her eyes drift to his arm.
"Not with me, and not with Dumledore and apparently not with a boy named Harry Potter." Sara calmly said, walking to a window.
"You know Harry Potter?" McGonagall asked.
"Of course we know of Harry Potter." Grissom said before Sara could respond. Dumbledore nodded, deep in thought or so it appeared. Sara interrupted his thoughts: "Was that all you needed to know, Dumbledore?" but once again Grissom reacted before the person to whom the question was directed could: "Does he love you?" Sara squinted her eyes and once again scrutinized Grissom's face, not finding any answers. Where had that question come from and why did it matter. It mattered to the others also, because suddenly everyone was paying close attention to her. Sara looked at the four expectant faces, she didn't know what answer they were expecting or wanted to hear, bur she knew the answer she was going to give was honest. The question was ridiculous if you knew the person in question. "Did Voldemort love me?" Sara said in her most appalling voice. "Hell no. the whole concept of love is ridiculous and laughable to him. Voldemort didn't love me, he was fascinated by me, maybe, but love? Never! He doesn't know what love is." Sara thought for a moment and then looked directly at Dumbledore: "I believe he doesn't understand the power of loving and being loved. All he cares about is himself and how he can ensure that everyone knows about him and regards him as the greatest wizard of all time." Dumbledore silently nodded, adding her suspicions to his own.
"I will leave you, so you can take care of the business you have with Grissom." Sara made to turn around, but Grissom stopped her by placing his hand on her shoulder. "Please stay, Sara." Dumbledore started to protest, but McGonagall interrupted: "Albus, if they work together then Miss Sidle might be able to help us too." Dumbledore seemed to consider this and then admitted McGonagall could have a point: "I suggest we sit down and I will tell you what is going on in Great Britain and how you could help me." Dumbledore said, waiting for Grissom to give his permission. Grissom indicated some seats and escorted Sara to his sofa by placing his hand on her lower back, as he was accustomed to do. With a quick flick of his wand Grissom made drinks come from the kitchen. Five glasses filled with drinks flew to the coffee table. "Last year Voldemort came back." Dumbledore started. "In reaction I summoned the Order of the Phoenix. In a battle a few weeks ago we lost Sirius Black. Lately I've been getting information that worries me. Lord Voldemort is trying and probably will succeed to infiltrate in the Ministry of Magic." Up to this point Sara and Grissom had listened carefully, but now both sat back a little and Grissom interrupted Dumbledore: "If you need help in the minefield of politic, you came to the wrong persons, Dumbledore."
"No, I do not need help in that area. I do not meddle in the Ministry anymore. I just wanted to tell you where we are." Grissom nodded, silently allowing Dumbledore to proceed. "We know Voldemort is a master in the Dark Arts and I think he has made several Horcruxes. Do you both know what they are?" Grissom and Sara nodded, their attention once more heightened. Realizing what this fact meant for the threat that Voldemort was posing for their world. If what Dumbledore said was true, it would be very hard to stop Voldemort completely.
"I believe one has already been destroyed accidentally. I have destroyed another, at great cost." Dumbledore showed his blackened hand. Both Grissom and Sara were shocked, but did not show it.
"Within a year I will die. I need to find the remaining Horcruxes. And I need to teach a student about the Horcruxes. I do not know all the answers to this subject, how can I make sure that this student can aid me in this search? You are an investigator: where do I start?" Grissom remained silent. Although he did not often see Albus Dumbledore, the news that he was going to die in a year still came as a shock. The others remained silent as well: Snap and McGonagall already knew what Dumbledore had said and waited for either Grissom or Sara to start talking. Sara was trying to process the information like Grissom. But then she realized something: "Dumbledore, you have already mentioned two Horcruxes. I thought it was extremely dangerous to make more then one Horcrux. How do you know there are more?"
"I am not sure, but I believe that Voldemort has made seven Horcruxes. Seven is a magical number and would have meant much to Voldemort. And the challenge of going where no other wizard has gone, I believe was too great to resist for Voldemort." Silently Sara nodded: "You could be right." Then Grissom took over: "How did you find the first Horcrux?"
"The first was accidentally given to a young student. It was pure chance. The one I destroyed I found through tracking Voldemort's family. But all of his family has died."
"My first advice would have been to find out about his family. Since you have already done so, the next best thing is to take a closer look at his past. What has he done, where has he been, what stands out."
"That will not be a problem, I have studied Voldemort's life extensively." Dumbledore commented.
"And as for the teaching of your student about your search; I have always believed in guiding students to the correct answers. Give them the information they need to draw the correct conclusion. In your case, in which you are also still searching, make sure you give the student all the information you have, only in that way can the student aid you. He or she might have a different perspective on the case." Sara was reminded by all the times that Grissom had taught her and she could clearly see how he had always guided her. Grissom kept on talking: "I would normally tell my co-workers to follow the evidence. But you don't seem to heave much solid evidence. Try to find evidence to back your theory, Albus. And sometimes it is good to go with your intuition, especially if you have a large amount of knowledge on that specific subject. Albus, I know you are prone to working alone, but it is often better to have two or three people thinking alongside each other. During our work as crime scene investigators, we rarely work solo cases. Two persons know more then one person alone." Grissom said, Sara nodded.
Dumbledore remained silent for a few moments and then he stood the others did the same: "I thank you for your advice Gilbert." Dumbledore shook Grissom's hand. "I hope for us all that you'll be able to find the Horcruxes before you die Albus. You and your teachers and students may always call for my help. If I'm able, I'll help them." Grissom said. "So will I. Goodbye Dumbledore." Sara said as she shook Dumbledore's hand, feeling the finality of this parting. "Thank you, Gilbert, thank you Saryna Salaza Slytherin, it's been a pleasure knowing you and your creatures."
"Dumbledore, there are a few creatures that I do not have in my collection. There is a good reason for that. I'm afraid Hagrid is in over his head." Sara silently said before releasing Dumbledore's hand. "Thank you for your concern Saryna. I will tell him, but I do not think it will deter him." Dumbledore responded with a joyful twinkle in his eye.
"I'm positive it will not." Sara smiled. At that moment Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape disappeared, leaving Sara and Grissom standing opposite each other, looking at each other. Silence settled over Grissom's town house.
The soft steady ticking of a clock was the only sound that could be heard inside the house, the two occupants remained silent. After what seemed lie a lifetime, but inn actual fact was barely a minute, Sara turned around, saying: "I will see you tomorrow." She started to walk to the door, placing her hand on the knob, but before she could turn it Grissom, without removing his eyes from her back said: "You are hurt." Slowly Sara turned around, she raised her eyebrow questioningly: "I'm sorry?" Grissom nodded with his head to the seared tear in Sara's robe. Absentmindedly Sara looked down: "Oh that?" she felt the burned edges of the tear and then lifted her wand. Without saying anything Sara pointed it to the tear, which mended itself. Grissom took Sara's wounded arm tentavily in his hand and started to push the sleeve back: "Who hurt you?"
"Mikhail Dolohyev, but it's alright. Fawkes healed the wound." Sara quickly added when she felt Grissom's hand tighten around hers, at the mentioning of Dolohyev's name. "Dolohyev," Grissom growled: "he has managed to stay out of my hands for so long. I know where I van find him, but he always gets away in time."
"Well he's in prison now. He managed to hit me just once. It's alright, Griss, calm down." Sara could see Grissom's clenched fists. Grissom stroked Sara's arm where the wound had been, before Fawkes had healed it. Sara felt his fingers caress her arm, sending a shiver down her spine. Softly, but definitely, Sara drew her arm from Grissom's grasp. She looked at his bent head. Suddenly she felt tired and frustrated, tired because it had been a long night and frustrated about the uncertainty about her relationship or maybe friendship – she didn't even know what to call it anymore- with Grissom. Now, perhaps fuelled by her exhaustion, Sara let her frustration speak: "Is it because now you know I'm a witch you allow yourself to care for me?" Swiftly Grissom raised his head and met Sara's eyes. Sara saw surprise and hurt in his eyes and immediately felt her frustration subside. "I have always cared for you Sara." Grissom said softly.
"I know, I'm sorry…It's just…I'm tired, it has been a long day." Sara apologized. Without saying anything Grissom led Sara to his couch.
"Sara, from the first moment that I saw you I have loved you." Sara looked at Grissom, shocked. She hadn't said anything and Grissom didn't easily share his feelings. Sara didn't say a word and listened to Grissom: "But I couldn't start a relationship with you in which I could only show you half of who I am. I didn't want to do that, I wanted an honest relationship. I didn't dare tell you I was a wizard, because I was afraid I was going to lose you. But tonight that changed."
"So it is because I'm a witch." Sara said sadly. "No," Grissom quickly grabbed her hands and turned her towards him. "No, it was when you told me…me about your parents." Grissom emphasized the 'me', by squeezing her hands, looking into her eyes. "And when Adam held you and could have slashed your throat. That day I was so afraid to loose you. I was so impressed by you, because you voluntarily told me about your past, your secrets. It gave me the courage to do the same for you, I just hadn't found the right time for it."
"And now you don't have to." Sara said bending her head, breaking eye contact.
"And now I don't have to." Grissom softly repeated. He didn't let go off Sara's hands, he wanted her to understand, to say it was alright. He really had been intending on telling Sara about the wizarding world, on being open to her about that part of his life. And his decision had been made on that fateful frightening day in the mental ward. Sara had to understand, she just had to.
"So…Grindelwald?" Sara said, a watery smile breaking his face.
"Yes, well…you're one to speak Saryna Salaza Slytherin." Grissom said smiling and then he embraced Sara, feeling her arms close around him made him feel hale and whole.
The end
Author Note: I know it is slightly out there, but I had fun writing it. I hope you had fun reading it. Please read and review!