I wake in darkness. My hands are tied behind my back uncomfortably, and there's a gag stuffed into my mouth. I have to laugh, chuckle deep in my throat. I'm such an idiot sometimes. He couldn't have done this just to defeat my time travel powers. He didn't even know about them, I'm sure, and didn't know about the limitations I had on them at the time anyway if he even had a hint that something was strange about me.
Well, this is exactly why I was sure to spent time learning nonverbal and wandless magic. I'd learned some on Terrestia, but their selection of spells was much more limited. But, after years of practice, I can do magic perfectly well enough to get myself out of a situation like this. Tom would've killed me - maybe literally - if I were to remain that incompetent.
Diffindo, I think, and the ropes binding my hands are sliced away. I pull the gag out of my mouth and peer around. Still dark. Lumos, I cast, and a globe of light appears in the palm of my hand.
The place looks like a cavern of some sort, so far as I can tell. I'm not alone, however. There's a man laying unconscious on the ground next to me. A closer inspection reveals that it appears to be Mad-Eye Moody. He's missing his glass eye, and most of his hair is gone. This must be the real Moody. I go and remove his bindings as well.
"Rennervate," I murmur, waving my hand at him.
Moody groans softly and blinks open his one eye. He immediately searches around for his wand, and doesn't find it. "Where am I?"
"Looks like we're in Barty Crouch Junior's trunk," I say. "I just failed pretty spectacularly at 'constant vigilance'. And he's been keeping you around for Polyjuice ingredients, I guess."
"Who are you?" Moody wonders.
"Harry Potter," I say. "Boy Who Doesn't Stay Dead and hundred year old time traveler."
"Harry Potter?" Moody says. "We've got to get out of here. Voldemort-"
"-isn't an issue anymore," I say. "I don't know what Barty's planning. He may not believe that Voldemort is really gone. Or maybe he just wants to torture me or something. I don't know. And I told them all that I would be leaving soon. He probably thinks he can get away with just making me disappear."
"Either way, we've still got to get out of here," Moody says.
I nod. "Don't suppose you know any way out of a magic trunk like this?"
Moody snorts. "This is my own trunk. Never thought I'd be getting shoved in here so that some Death Eater scum can impersonate me. I'll see what I can do, but he might've put some more spells on it to try to prevent that."
"Failing all else, my friends should come looking for me soon," I say. "They won't believe that I've just gone off into the great blue temporal yonder."
"Schoolkids?" Moody says.
"Time travelers," I say, frowning. "Unfortunately, they won't know where to find me..." I sigh. I raise my hand and focus upon the thought of the rainbow after the storm. This, too, shall pass. "Expecto Patronum." A wisp of luminous silvery vapor emerges from my fingertips. I shake my head.
"You expected to be able to get off a wandless Patronus Charm?" Moody asks.
"No," I say. "But it was worth a shot."
I pull out my bag to sift through it. Barty didn't take this from me? Awfully foolish of him. Perhaps he didn't realize I had it. Wait, I have two bags, actually. I find, curiously, that not only do I have the items that I had in this life, but also the ones that I'd had in my last one.
And this second, older bag includes a collection of wands taken from the would-be Dark Lords that I'd defeated in order to keep my family safe. Perhaps I should have expected that my possessions would come along. I still don't really know how this all works. Well, that was the entire point of doing this, wasn't it? I pass over an extra wand to Moody, and pull out one myself that feels suitable.
"Where did you get so many wands?" Moody wonders.
"Killing dark wizards in another time," I say. "You have no idea how many half-baked morons tried to fill the gap left by Grindelwald and Voldemort."
"I can probably guess," Moody says.
"So, think you can get us out of here, or shall I send off a message to my friends?"
"Hmm," Moody says. He waves the wand I gave him and utters a few words, frowning deeply, then shakes his head. "Bloody Death Eater's got the place sealed up tight. Can't open it from this side."
I give a nod, and raise the wand I'd picked out for myself - cypress and dragon heartstring, from the looks of it. I focus upon my happy thought, and say, "Expecto Patronum." A shimmering silvery duck emerges from the tip of the wand. "I need you to take a message to Tom Riddle. Tell him I'm being held in the trunk in the Defense Against the Dark Arts office in Hogwarts. Please come and get me." The duck nods and zips into nowhere.
"Tom Riddle?" Moody repeats.
"You know of him?" I say.
"Of course," Moody says. "Why are you associating with Voldemort now?"
I shake my head. "Not Voldemort. Alternate universe version of the man who, under other circumstances and in another situation, might have become Voldemort."
Moody frowns. "I still don't trust this."
"In other circumstances, Dumbledore might have become a Dark Lord, too," I say. "It was merely a fulcrum of destiny that turned him from that path. He might have joined up with Grindelwald and helped to subjugate the world, you know."
"I don't believe that," Moody says.
I snort softly. "Believe what you will. I know that the man I just called in spent the last nearly a century with me, trying to keep the peace and make sure no madmen, dark wizards, necromancers, what-have-you, would threaten the safety and happiness of our family."
Moody continues to frown. Like everyone else, in other lives, he has been both ally and enemy to me. A valuable ally, a formidable enemy. I would really rather not have to fight him again. He's a good person.
A large, translucent snake zooms into the room, and speaks in Tom's voice, "Message received and acknowledged. Support is on the way. Hold tight. Let me know at once if the situation changes."
I smile as the snake wisps out of existence again. The sight of Tom's Patronus always makes me happy.
"He... can cast a Patronus Charm?" Moody says, raising an eyebrow.
I chuckle. "That he can. Proof enough for you that this Tom Riddle is not a Dark Lord?"
"I'll reserve judgment," Moody says.
"That's all I ask." I poke through my bag some more. "You hungry?"
My own stomach is rumbling. How long must he have been here? Barty must have been careful not to let him starve or anything.
"How much food do you have in there?" Moody wonders.
"I've enough provisions in this thing to last one person for a year, at least," I reply. I pass over a ration to him. "They're not all that tasty, but they'll fill up your stomach and keep you going."
"Good enough," Moody says, gnawing on it a bit.
A heavy silence stretches between us. I have a million things I want to say to him, but what do I say? Sorry for having a basilisk eat you in another timeline?
"So how long has that bastard had me in here?" Moody asks.
"The entire school year," I reply. "It's June, and the Triwizard Tournament just completed."
"Bloody hell," Moody mutters. "Pardon the language."
"I'd have said about the same thing myself," I say. "Although my choice of words would likely have been 'Fucking Abyss' instead."
Moody snorts softly. "So what's happened in the meantime?"
"Crouch rigged the tournament to try to capture me for Voldemort's resurrection in a ridiculously absurd plan," I say. "This, however, backfired on Voldemort rather spectacularly. Suffice it to say that he won't be a problem for anyone here any longer."
"Aside from the one you've brought with you," Moody says.
"He's not going to do anything bad, and he's not going to stay long, nor am I," I say.
Moody shrugs and goes quiet again. I guess neither of us really feels like arguing about it at the moment. Time stretches away as I wait for a rescue. This is really rather embarrassing. Of all the things I've been through, I get stuck in a magic trunk?
Some while later, a shaft of light beams in from above, and a staircase unfurls before us. Tom descends the staircase and gives a look over me, and a glance to Moody, who is pointing a wand at him warily.
"You okay there?" Tom asks.
"I'm fine," I say. "I was dumb, I'll admit it."
"Well, so long as you acknowledge that," Tom says, grinning. "Come on, Gellert's keeping an eye on Barty."
The three of us climb the staircase and exit the trunk, blinking a little in the brighter light in the Defense classroom. Barty, having returned to his normal form now that the Polyjuice has worn off, is bound securely to one side of the room.
"Can't turn our backs on you for a moment," Gellert says, chuckling. "Leave it to you to get yourself captured after being left alone for five minutes."
I smirk. "How'd you get here so soon, anyway?"
"Heh," Gellert says. "Turns out it's not particularly difficult to break out of Nurmengard when you've got the Elder Wand, essence potions, and knowledge of Shaper magic. I didn't expect my belongings to come back with me, but that kind of made it a tad easier."
Moody peers at Gellert. "Grindelwald?"
"Gellert Grindelwald, at your service," Gellert says, grinning wildly at him and giving a smooth bow. "This time, anyway."
Moody casts another glance toward me. "You're hanging out with Grindelwald now, too?"
"It's a long story," I say, snickering softly.
"Oh, here's your eye back, Moody," Tom says, hovering the glass eye over toward him.
Moody snatches it out of the air and examines it critically with his good eye for a few moments before sticking it back into its socket.
"What sort of alternate universe are you from, anyway?" Moody wonders.
Gellert smirks. "It was not a bizarre mirror universe where all the bad guys are good guys, and the good guys are bad guys with goatees."
"The only thing different was the choices people made," I say. "So really, in the end, nothing was the same."
"Now, as for you," Tom says, pointing his wand at Barty. "How did you ever conceive that this ridiculous plan was a good idea? There's too many points of failure. Too many places where, if just one thing goes wrong, the entire thing collapses. Not enough backup in case of problems arising. And this was the best scheme anyone could come up with to resurrect Voldemort?"
"It worked, didn't it?" Barty says. "Up until you lot showed up out of nowhere and screwed everything up."
"I'm going to attribute your success to the general ineptitude of everyone involved, especially Dumbledore," Tom says.
"Hey, no Dumbledore bashing, alright?" Gellert says.
Tom snorts softly. "The man's a blind fool sometimes and you know it. Or maybe he knew what you were doing and let you get away with it for some bizarre agenda of his own? Who knows? I'm certainly not going to ask him, nor believe him if he told me."
"Why would Dumbledore do that?" Moody says.
"I don't know," Tom says. "Maybe he thought Voldemort needed to be resurrected in order to kill him properly or something."
"Look, I'm not going to hear any badmouthing Albus from you," Gellert says. "He's a good man."
"Whatever," Tom says, rolling his eyes a little.
"So, what are you going to do with me now?" Barty says.
Tom picks up Moody's own wand and passes it over to him. "You? I'm going to leave you to Moody. He can do whatever he thinks you deserve."
Moody takes his wand with a wicked grin and hands the borrowed one back to me, and I tuck it away in my bag again. "You know, Tom, maybe you're alright after all."
Tom chuckles and gives a casual wave, and heads out of the office, followed by me and Gellert. It's perhaps a good thing that it's late and the hallways are deserted at the moment.
"Nothing is ever simple, is it," Gellert says. "You can't just show up and try not to get involved in anything. You wind up getting dragged in anyway."
I grunt softly. "Nothing is ever really finished. The end of one thing is just the beginning of something else."
"Anything else you wanted to do in this time?" Tom asks.
"I need to make sure Draco's alright," I say, sighing. "Last I saw him, he was at Malfoy Manor, facing off against his own father for my sake."
Tom just gives a nod.
"Let's head down to the Slytherin common room and see if he's checked in there," I say. "If not, well, we can Floo over from there, I suppose."
"Lead the way," Tom says.
"Right behind you," Gellert says.
I don't even bother with subtlety or caution as I make my way down several flights of stairs. However, Tom and Gellert decided along the way that they should alter their appearances to look like they could be students. I come right up to the entrance to the Slytherin common room, and then abruptly realize that I have no idea what the password might have been at this point in time. This was lifetimes ago, how am I supposed to remember?
"Um..." I say awkwardly.
"Forgot the password?" Tom says with a smirk.
"Can you really blame me?" I say. "It's been forever!"
"Around a hundred years or so," Gellert says with a shrug.
"Hmm, alright, I can do this..." I say.
I proceed to start guessing species of snakes and potions ingredients. Tom pipes in a few suggestions as well. Gellert smirks and leans against a wall, watching us in amusement and clearly not the least bit impatient.
"Potter, what are you doing out here in the middle of the night?" says a familiar voice, and Snape comes stalking toward us.
"Um. We forgot the password," I reply awkwardly.
Snape sighs heavily. "You aren't even actually in my house, Potter, but sadly I can't take points from Gryffindor for this. You two, on the other hand, should know better." He pins Tom and Gellert with his gaze. "Who are you? I don't recognize you."
Tom smirks. "Hello, Severus. Allow me to introduce us. I am Tom Riddle, and this is Gellert Grindelwald."
"Very subtle, Tom," I say dryly.
Whatever Snape might have been expecting, that wasn't it. He blinks for a moment. "If you were in other company, I would believe that you were lying."
"It's the truth," I say.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing here?" Snape asks.
"We need to check on Draco Malfoy," Tom says.
"He was in potentially grave danger several hours ago," Gellert says. "So we really need to check on him yesterday, honestly."
"I'm not going back in time until I find out what happened to him," I say, snorting.
Snape sighs, and says to the wall, "Asphodel." The entrance promptly opens up for us. "Do note that I'm not doing this for you, but to ensure that my student is safe."
"Of course," I say with a faint grin.
Inside the Slytherin common room, there's practically a crowd gathered around. Neville, Hermione, and Rispy are in the middle of it all, but it seems like half of Storm Army is there, plus one big black dog.
"What are you all still doing up?" Snape asks, then turns his attention to Neville and Hermione. "And you two aren't even in my house."
"We were hoping for some word from Draco," Hermione replies quietly.
"He hasn't gotten back yet?" I say. "Oh, Abyss."
"Who are they?" Neville asks, glancing to Tom and Gellert.
"Friends," I say. "Long story."
I stride over toward the fireplace, Tom and Gellert one step behind me. Rispy comes up beside me as well.
"I'm going, too," Hermione says.
"Me, too," Neville adds. A couple of the others nod as well.
"If you were intending to go, why didn't you already do so?" I say.
"We were waiting for you," Theodore says.
"And we didn't have any Floo powder," Neville adds.
I make a low rumbling sound. "You've got to be prepared. And don't go hanging on my every word! Do what you think is right, what you think needs to be done. I'm not always going to be here to hold your hand." I shake my head. "And we can't all go invading Malfoy Manor. I'd ask that all Hogwarts students remain here. We'll take care of this, alright?"
"But you might need our help," Neville says.
I give a small smile at him. "Perhaps. But I'm going to need you as backup in case anything goes wrong, alright? Stay here for now and conserve your strength. Rest."
"Yes, Stormseeker," they murmur.
I nod to my fellow time travelers, and cast a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor!" The flames flare green, and I step through, into the whirling ride and out the other side.
The sitting room in the Malfoy house is dark, empty, and quiet. There's no sign that there was any sort of struggle here earlier today.
Lucius quickly comes down the stairs, muttering, "Who on earth could be at the Floo at this hour?" He steps at the foot of the stairs to look over at me. "You!"
"Who, me?" Gellert says innocently.
"He's clearly talking about me," Tom puts in.
"Where is your son, Lucius?" I ask.
"I have no son," Lucius replies.
"Where is Draco?" I snarl.
"Lucius..." comes Narcissa's voice at the top of the stairs.
"Let me deal with these intruders, Narcissa," Lucius tells her.
"Like you dealt with our own son?" Narcissa says coldly.
"What did you do to Draco?" I growl, wand in hand and pointed at Lucius.
"My son is hurt," Narcissa says. "Cursed, and I can't cure it. I can heal him, but the curse remains, wearing away at him again incessantly. My son... my son will die within the week if the curse cannot be removed."
Unbound rage burns through my veins. "Crucio!"
Lucius falls to the floor screaming, twitching. How dare he do this to my friend? I hold the spell on him for almost a minute before Tom puts a hand on my shoulder gently.
"I don't think Cassie would approve, my dear."
"Don't you dare hang Cassie's name over me about that," I snap, although I dismiss the curse.
Tom shrugs. "Suit yourself. Far be it from me to complain over whoever you decide to torture and murder."
"How could you do this to your own son?" I say, stepping up toward where Lucius is still laying. "Why? Why did you do this?"
"I have no son," Lucius says hoarsely, trying to climb to his feet, but I put my foot on his chest. "Draco is a blood traitor."
"So you would rather that the Malfoy line end here and now, than potentially continue less pure? Is that it?" I demand.
"Yes," Lucius replies.
"You know," Rispy puts in. "I've told him that he's insane plenty of times, but you're making him look like a paragon of sanity."
"I will not be told off by a house-elf," Lucius grumbles.
"Then how about by me?" Tom says.
"I don't even know who you are," Lucius says.
"Well, let me rectify that situation, then," Tom says. "I am Tom Riddle, also known as Voldemort, and your presumed lord and master."
Lucius coughs something that sounds suspiciously like "bullshit".
"Really?" Tom says. "Let's see about this, then."
I don't see what Tom does, but suddenly Lucius hisses in pain and clutches his forearm. "You... No, you can't be..."
"I can, and I am," Tom says. "If you really want to argue about it, I could just let him torture you some more."
Lucius grunts. He doesn't seem inclined to argue any further, however.
I turn away to stalk up the stairs. "Take us to him, Narcissa."
Tom, Gellert, and Rispy ascend the staircase after me. Narcissa leads us off to a side bedroom. Draco is laying on the bed, breathing shallowly, unconscious. He looks very pale, and even without examining him more closely, I can feel that something is very wrong here. Gellert goes up to his side to analyze the damage.
Lucius steps into the doorway, straightening the collar of his robes self-consciously. "My... My Lord?"
"Perhaps I should find it a little refreshing that I'm not solely responsible for destroying the pureblood families," Tom says. "They destroy themselves just as readily. The Blacks weren't brought down by my actions or any enemies, but by disowning their own for even the slightest foolish reason."
"You cannot be suggesting that disowning blood traitors is a foolish reason," Lucius says.
"I can, and I am," Tom says. "Did you know that I'm a half-blood?"
"You... What?" Lucius says, gaping at him.
"My father was a Muggle," Tom says. "Didn't know that, did you?"
"But... but..." Lucius looks as though his world is dropping out from under his feet.
"The Gaunts were the last of Slytherin's line," Tom says. "And you know what they were? Inbred to the point of madness and idiocy. A little fresh blood to revitalize it, and suddenly you've got the greatest wizard of his generation."
"You're very modest," I say dryly.
Tom smirks. "And fortunately, I inherited my Muggle father's dashing good looks. Which, in madder times, I apparently felt the need to ruin with a serpentine transformation that left me with no nose. No nose!"
I snicker softly.
"Where did you ever learn this curse?" Gellert says, glancing up from Draco's bed. "This is demon magic."
"And more importantly, why would you use it on your son?" I say. I rub my head.
"I don't care if he's a blood traitor," Narcissa says softly. "He can marry whoever he wants to. He'll always be my son, and I will always love him."
"Can you remove it, Gellert?" I ask.
Gellert shakes his head. "Not something like this. This is no ordinary curse. An infernal creature demands a life."
Narcissa pulls back her arm, and slaps Lucius across the face so hard that a red handprint is left behind. She strides up to the bedside and says, "Then let it be me instead."
"No way," I say. "That's not necessary." I glance to Gellert in silent question.
Gellert gives a nod. "A life, not a soul. At least we can be thankful this gazember did not resort to soul magic."
"I don't even know what you just called me," Lucius says.
"Oh, I know how to insult people reasonably well in a number of different languages," Gellert says. "That was Hungarian. How about sitapea, then? Or perhaps dumhuvud? Maybe bajingan? Or, hey, how about we just go with motherfucking asshole?"
"I think I get the point," Lucius says.
"No, I don't think you do," I say. "You cast a fatal curse on your own son just because he happened to like a Mudblood? No. This is unacceptable." I sigh. "We'll deal with you later, however. First, let's figure out what we're going to do about Draco."
Rispy steps in and says, "I'll take the curse."
"Rispy?" I say.
"What? I'm expendable. And it doesn't matter if it's a human or an elf, does it?"
"No, it doesn't," Gellert says. "The demon would be just as happy with your life as with Draco's."
"You would do that, after the way they treated you?" I say.
I don't care to mention to the Malfoys that we're immortal, so most things aren't going to keep us down permanently. Even so, he's still volunteering for a good deal of pain and suffering for the sake of one young wizard I didn't think he would have any reason to be attached to.
Rispy just shrugs. "I'm not doing it for Draco. I'm doing it for Hermione. She would be quite upset if anything were to happen to him."
I have to give a small smile at that. That makes more sense. "I see."
"Alright, if we're going to do this, get over here," Gellert says. "I think I can... yes, yes, alright... I can do this."
Rispy goes over next to him. Despite knowing that he won't stay dead, he still looks a little nervous. Especially when Gellert pulls out a silver ritual knife and begins to carve runes directly into Rispy's skin. I don't want to watch, but I can't bring myself to look away, either.
"Who is that young man, and how did he learn so much about dark magic?" Lucius asks quietly.
"That, is Gellert Grindelwald," Tom replies. "I think you might have heard of him at some point."
Gellert chants a series of strange, unearthly words. The bleeding runes on Rispy's body begin to glow with eerie violet light. Something dark and wispy seems to lift out from Draco's chest and latches itself onto Rispy like a hungry predator. The elf gasps, and falls to the ground screaming and writhing in agony.
Draco's eyes snap open. "What in the..." he murmurs. "Rispy?"
Rispy shudders and manages, "I'm alright. Don't worry about me." He then starts screaming again.
"Like hell you're alright! What happened?"
"Lucius hit you with a fatal curse," Gellert says. "Rispy volunteered to sacrifice himself for you."
"For Hermione!" Rispy says through clenched teeth. "You better never make her cry." His eyes roll up into his head, and he passes out.
"No pressure or anything," Gellert says lightly.
"Draco, how are you feeling?" I ask.
"Alive," Draco replies, sitting up and blinking down at Rispy's prone form. "Surprised. Shocked. Upset."
Narcissa goes over and gives her son a tight hug, not caring who else is in the room watching her. "Oh, my baby, you're alright!"
I nod, and then point my wand at Lucius again. "Now that that's taken care of. You. I've heard your excuses, and I reject them."
Draco pulls himself away from his mother's grip and slides down to the floor. "Father..."
"And don't you dare even say that he's not your son again," I say. "I was willing to give your behavior some concession because you were Obliviated and had your memories modified so that you didn't remember all I'd done for you. But this? No, this is over the line. Over the fucking line. I thought I knew you better than this. I can't believe that you would ever turn against your own family like this."
Tom stands back quietly, seeming to be enjoying the show greatly, a pleased, wicked grin spreading across his face.
Lucius opens his mouth, but I flick my wand and shake my head. "No. I don't even want to hear your arguments anymore. There is no excuse for what you've done. If it weren't for this one brave elf who was willing to suffer in his stead, you would have killed your fifteen year old son. And for what? And for what? Was it really worth it? This wasn't just some accident. This wasn't just disowning him, casting him out of your house, turning your nose up at him disapprovingly. This was attempted murder. I should know. I've murdered plenty of people in my lives."
"Stormseeker..." Draco whispers.
"And I won't shirk at adding another name to that list," I say. "I don't even know the names of most of the people I've killed. But you. You deserve a special place in the Abyss for this. Nothing you can say will save you, Lucius. The Aurors might prefer to put you in Azkaban for this, but I'm not them. I'm far more merciful. I'm just going to kill you instead."
Tom and Gellert also have their wands trained upon him, following my cue. He's not going to get away from this readily. My blood burns with rage and hate, desire to kill. This is one murder that I will have no remorse for.
Draco steps in front of me, standing between my wand and his father. "Stormseeker. No. Don't do it."
"Draco?" I say, the tip of my wand drooping.
"I can't let you do this," Draco says. "I- I don't care what he's done. He's still my father. I may not always agree with him, but I can't let you just kill him."
"Draco, he would have killed you," I say. "What if it had been Hermione that he'd cursed instead?"
"I don't know," Draco says. "But it wasn't."
"How can you forgive something like that?" I say.
"I don't know that either. But I won't have you murdering my own father on my behalf. Please."
I give a short nod, and put my wand away. "Lucius, you are a very fortunate man who does not deserve the family that he has. And now you owe your son your life. But I will leave you in their hands. It's not my job to repair the damage that you've done to your own family, but perhaps with time, all wounds can be mended."
I think I speak far better than I did before, just a day ago by the perspective of the people here. It must be somewhat shocking to them to see how much I've grown and changed in just a day. A day that was a century. Plus, I spent five years learning about politics and speaking from Lucius himself. Ironic, really.
I turn to Draco and say, "Come on. Let's get you back to Hogwarts. Hermione's worried about you."
Draco gives a distantly nod and leaves the room ahead of me, pointedly avoiding looking at his father. The four of us are silent as we return to the fireplace and Floo back to the Slytherin common room.
The crowd has not diminished in the slightest. In fact, Snape is there, and Dumbledore appears to have joined them as well. Once she sees Draco come through, Hermione launches herself at him and squeezes him tightly.
Dumbledore stares for a long moment at my companions, and finally says, "Gellert?"
Gellert gives a short bark of laughter. "In the flesh. Howdy do, Albus. How's life treating you?"
"So it really is him?" Snape says.
"There was any doubt?" Gellert says.
"Considering your company, nothing would surprise me," Snape says. "But I am glad to see that young Mr. Malfoy is well. What happened?"
"There was an accident," Draco says. "And that's all I'm going to say on the matter."
If he wants to keep it quiet, that's his prerogative. If the truth came out about what exactly happened, Lucius would probably see Azkaban regardless, even if he only wound up killing an elf.
"Gellert, how did you get here?" Dumbledore asks.
"I'm not from this universe, precisely," Gellert says. "Want proof? Check this out." He grins and holds up his wand. "Look familiar?"
Dumbledore frowns, holds up his own Elder Wand, then peers intently at Gellert's version. "I... see."
"But, sad to say, I'm not staying for long," Gellert says. "Once Lexen finishes up with whatever he wants to do here, we'll be gone again. But I'll see you again, in another life." His eyes practically twinkle in a Dumbledore-like fashion at that.
"I suppose that's the real reason I'm here," I say. "One last chance to say goodbye."
It's harder and more painful than I'd realized it would be. Before, when I was taken from each world suddenly and unexpectedly, it was easy enough to let go, once I got used to the idea that there was nothing I could do about it. Then, when I found out that I could take people with me, it wrenched my heart each time to have to leave someone behind, and tried not to get too attached to anyone who wasn't bound to me.
But now, things are different. Now, I can stay here, for as long as I'd like. But I really don't think I should. Nothing will ever be the same again. There are no endings, only changes.
Goodbyes are like birds taking flight. And I'm not the only one making them. Gellert takes a moment to show Dumbledore his phoenix Patronus, and murmur to him when he thinks no one else can hear that he will always love him, no matter what place, what time, what universe.
"You are my happy memory," Gellert whispers.