Concept 2

Early Influence

Grindelwald's POV


It was unusual to see a young wizard at the station so early in the spring. A student alone. Hands fiddling anxiously in his lap. Yellow scarf drooping over one shoulder. Torn school books. Scuff marks on his trunk, as though it had been soundly kicked before it was hastily packed and stowed.

Ah. Perhaps it wasn't so surprising after all.

A lonely outcast was making his final journey home. What a shame; bright minds were so difficult to find these days, and the Scamander name was not unknown. T'was a waste of talent to let this one go amiss.

He always had a spot of pity for strays and misfits.

"You're late for your train, young one," he said conversationally, ambling up to the bench. His approach was gentle; unhurried. The boy scarcely startled before he calmed.

"I'm … not going by train." The trembling voice, still wavering between tenor and baritone, was incapable of hiding his grief, despite his agitated swallows. Rubbing a bezoar between his palms, the boy cleared his throat and elaborated, "My brother is picking me up. He'll be here."

Such hesitancy for one so bold. Here he sat alone, conversing with a stranger in his hour of struggle, yet his doubt bled through when he spoke of his family. One should not fear his own blood and kin.

"He's running late," he commented sympathetically. "The train left the station two hours ago."

"Yes, well… he's busy sometimes," the boy mumbled. "He'll be here soon."

"Are you going to tell him?" A grievous glance at the scuffed trunk, and the school books which had been kicked in the spine. Flushing, the boy ducked his head.

"Mum already floo'd him. He said he was coming." Gasping sharply, the boy clasped a hand in his rusty curls, blinking against bitter disappointment. "It wasn't supposed to be like this. I didn't… I didn't do it," he whispered. Despondency dredged the hopes of a once vibrant future.

A future he must still have, regardless of the cost. "Did you know that there are other ways to become a wizard," he offered softly.

Shaking his head doggedly, the boy scrubbed a torn sleeve over his eyes. "I can't. They've expelled me. I can't practice magic anymore."

"Is that so?" Lingering on the question, he dropped his voice. "Then why would they leave you your wand?"

Startled, the boy looked down at the smooth reed resting on his trunk. Possibility warred with common sense. He swallowed. "But how?"

The sly one looked at the clock. Two hours and ten minutes past the train's departure. Ample time for someone to pick up their stray. Little ones shouldn't be left at the station alone for so long.

"I know a teacher," he coaxed. "You could become a great wizard under his tutelage."

Like a whipped puppy or an abandoned lamb, the boy's eyes lanced at the first offered hand. He hesitated, glancing at the clock. "I can't," he said grimly. "Theseus will be here soon."

"Of course he will."

Though sunset would arrive before the boy realized his mother's letter had been misdirected, and dear brother wasn't even aware that he had fretted at the station for seven hours, waiting for someone who would not come. By the time the boy's father apparated to the station, flustered by the miscommunication and mortified that his son should be sent home in disgrace, the frail threads tying young Scamander to Hogwarts and his favorite tutor were nearly snapped. The look sent over his shoulder was that of a survivor sensing prosperity just around the corner. An open hand of friendship. A chance to make things right.

As the lamps were lit around the darkening station, the patient one strolled away on his own, knowing that one day soon the boy would follow the address he'd slipped into his hand. This undeserving outcast would remember the first sympathetic words spoken to him at an empty station, and even Dumbledore wouldn't be able to sway his mind. One day, years from now, with the proper training and promise of a better future, he would rattle the very foundations of the wizarding world.

Because no one would expect a lamb to grow into a tiger. Hogwarts had spewed out the phoenix that would engulf it in flame.