Harry Potter and the Boy Who Lived
Interlude: Responses
Lily and James
Godric's Hollow, July 31st
"Crazy day, huh?" James asked, climbing into bed next to his wife.
Lily put down the early edition of Transfiguration Today and looked expectantly at her husband. "Any news?"
"No." James sighed. "Still no sign of Peter. Merlin, I never thought I'd say this, but I'm glad Harry's going to Durmstrang now. Peter will have no idea where the school is... Merlin, we don't even know where the school is. Hopefully, Harry will have a calm year, and we won't have to worry about him."
"I-James, I'm worried," Lily admitted.
"Lily, it'll be okay," James said reassuringly, "we know Albus is doing everything he can to keep Nathan safe this year."
"I'm not talking about Peter, and whatever he plans to do..." Lily trailed off slightly before steadying herself. "I'm worried about Harry, James. Neither of us really liked him going to Durmstrang, and I don't like not knowing what goes on at that school."
James nodded his head in understanding. "I know Lily. I feel the same way. Whenever I talk to him about it, I just feel like he's not telling me everything."
"An understatement if there ever was one," Lily said disdainfully. "James, Harry's become more and more reluctant to share things about his time there, and now he's obsessed with Occlumency, which, according to Severus, will likely make him more self-contained. "
"But at the same time," Lily continued, tossing James the Transfiguration magazine, "how can we argue with results like this? I wish I could say that Harry would have achieved the same thing if he was at Hogwarts... but I just don't know if that's true. I know our son is going to be a great wizard someday James, but I'm a little concerned with how he's growing up. Why won't he tell us more about Durmstrang?"
"I don't know, but I think there's more to his Dark Arts class than he lets on at times." James opened Transfiguration Today and flipped to the page that described his son's final projects. "Deflection is a great dueling technique, and there's no doubt it could be incredibly useful, but have you ever tried asking about his Dark Arts curriculum?"
Lily nodded her head, annoyance radiating off her every feature. "Of course I have, and he always says it's just like Hogwarts, only with a dueling component. He recites countless spells that the class has him learn, and none of them sound bad, but I can tell he's holding back."
"Albus says the school isn't as bad as everyone thinks," James said. "Maybe next time we see him, we should sit down and ask him what exactly he knows."
"That's actually a good idea. Even with his I.C.W oaths, Albus could obviously tell us a great deal about Durmstrang. After all, he did lead the siege on the school during the Grindelwald Wars."
James smiled proudly. "Yeah, Grindelwald. I can't believe Harry knocked the old evil bastard off his pedestal."
"It's an amazing achievement." Lily frowned slightly as she noted some of the worn edges around the copy of Transfiguration Today. The magazine had been passed around a great deal as Sirius and Remus had wanted to come over and read the article themselves. "I think we should frame this and put it in the living room, what do you think?"
"I thought you wanted to send it to Minerva and Albus?" James asked.
Lily shook her head. "No, no, I think I'm going to order them both a copy of the issue. I think we should keep this one, it's an original first print."
"Okay, but are you sure Harry wouldn't want it hung in his room?"
"He might," Lily agreed, "but I'd like his first publication to be where everyone can see it."
"Alright, I'll frame it tomorrow."
Lily smiled, kissed her husband, and with a flick of her wrist, extinguished the lights. "Good night James."
"Night Lily."
ooo0000ooo
Minerva McGonagall
Hogwarts, Aug. 6th
With a barely disguised scowl, Minerva McGonagall angrily walked back from the Headmaster's office. The topic of their meeting had disturbed her greatly, and she now had to explain to her colleagues that the Dementors would be patrolling the grounds until Peter Pettigrew was caught.
Minerva couldn't blame Albus for saddling her with the duty to inform the rest of the professors, even though it was her busiest time of the year. She knew just how much Albus was juggling right now. The news of Peter's escape, along with the Minister's part in allowing the escape to happen, had caused a political storm at the Ministry and Wizengamot. Fudge was doing everything he could to 'rectify the horrible bureaucratic miscalculation,' which essentially translated to mucking up other people's lives even more.
Albus had tried to get the minister to reconsider the use of Dementors, but Fudge was adamant about being seen as doing something proactive in re-capturing Peter.
The thought of her former student caused Minerva's face to wrinkle in disgust. Peter had made his choice long ago. He wasn't the first Gryffindor to go dark, and, unfortunately, he wouldn't be the last.
Reaching her office, Minerva quickly went about organizing the last few letters to prospective Muggleborn students. Making a note of the students who were out of the country and needed to be visited by a professor, she went about the rest of her duties. When she got to the fifth year boys' prefects list, Minerva fought the urge to hiss at the prospects. For the first time in her 27 years as the Head of Gryffindor house, she had no idea who to select. The two most dominant figures in her fifth year class were Fred and George Weasley, neither of which could, or would even want to, be a good prefect. Unfortunately, the other three boys in their year were hardly exemplary, nor would they be able to control the twins.
Muttering a curse under her breath, Minerva penciled Alicia Spinnet in as the girls' prefect and left the boy's spot blank for the moment. Perhaps she'd speak to Albus later about amending the rules and allowing two girls to be prefects for that year. Angelina's grades certainly made her a viable candidate.
A soft tapping at her window caused Minerva to glance outside and notice a small brown post owl sitting on the ledge. Unlocking the window, the bird fluttered over and Minerva undid the small envelope tied to the owl's leg.
Noticing a note attached to the envelope, Minerva went back to her desk and put on her glasses.
Minerva,
Read pages 5-8. I think you'll be impressed.
Lily
Curious, Minerva removed a copy of Transfiguration Today from the envelope and flipped to the pages Lily's note had mentioned. A single glance at the headline caused her eyes to widen, and she quickly sat down and began to read.
Fifteen minutes later, Minerva set down the magazine, torn between pride and disappointment.
Her feelings were rational, she supposed. Lily and James were two of her favorite students, and she was proud of what their son had managed to accomplish; however, a part of her was upset by what she read. While Minerva remembered overhearing Nathan mention to Hermione that Harry was excelling at Transfiguration at Durmstrang, she hadn't realized the extent the boy had progressed in such a short time.
Losing Harry Potter as a student had clearly been a blow for Hogwarts, and it saddened her that Harry felt he needed to leave in order to get the best education he could. Looking back over Harry's discovery and glancing at the picture of Harry and his new Transfiguration professor, Minerva couldn't help but wonder if she would have allowed Harry to achieve as much had he stayed at Hogwarts.
A part of her stubbornly said yes –that the truly great wizards don't need much instruction or direction.
Still, seeing Harry smile at his new Professor, Minerva wondered if she was being honest with herself. Harry might not have needed as much guidance as some of his peers, but that didn't mean he didn't like the companionship. Ultimately, the boy's loneliness was what drove him to Quirrell and out of Hogwarts.
Sighing, Minerva walked to her fireplace and pulled out some floo powder. "Filius!"
After a moment, the Charms professor's head appeared in her fire. "Minerva, what can I do for you? I was just sitting down for tea."
"I believe I have something you might be interested in seeing."
"Oh, very well," Filius said somewhat reluctantly. "Stand back, I'll come through."
Standing up, Minerva walked over to her desk and poured two cups of tea, and, a few seconds later, Filius had appeared in her office.
"Tea?"
"Thank you." Filius accepted the cup and easily transfigured one of Minerva's straight back chairs into something more comfortable.
"I thought you might like to see this." Handing her colleague the magazine, Minerva added, "The article begins on page five."
Intrigued, Filius began reading at the top of the page, after reading a few lines, his tea lay forgotten on the table.
"He crafted a Semi-Permanent Enchantment Receptacle... as a first year." Filius looked particularly pained as he continued to read. "Mr. Potter's placement test was one of, if not, the finest entrance examinations in the history of Durmstrang. The young man did things with a wand I would never have believed possible from an eleven year-old."
"And we didn't even know," Minerva muttered distastefully. "Such a waste."
Flipping to the next page, Filius shook his head at his former student's discovery. "Unbelievable. He's enchanting as a second year, and he actually found a use for a broken enchantment."
"Soon to be fifth year, Filius," Minerva corrected. "According to the article, Harry will be entering his fifth year in both of our subjects."
Not bothering to hide his scowl, Filius said, "Lady Ravenclaw is likely rolling over in her grave at my mistake."
"Filius, it is not your faul–"
"Don't say it Minerva," Flitwick interrupted. "I was derelict in my duty. Had I not, perhaps Harry would still be a Ravenclaw."
"You have over seventy students to look after Filius, and you alone cannot hold all the blame for what happened to Harry." Minerva countered. "He came to all of us for help. You weren't the only one who turned him away."
"Minerva, a part of me knows you're right, but I cannot help but feel I should have done more."
"You know what they say about hindsight Filius. Not even a time turner can alter the past. You should be happy that he has found his place at Durmstrang. All we can do is try to not repeat our past mistakes. Perhaps it was a lesson we all needed."
"Perhaps."
Deciding that there was no better time to bridge the issue, Minerva said, "While I have you here, there is another matter I must speak to you about."
"Oh?" Filius asked, finally taking a sip of his cold tea.
"I just spoke to Albus. It appears that Dementors will be patrolling the grounds for an undetermined amount of time."
Placing his tea back on the desk, Filius stood up and walked over to the floo.
"Filius?" Minerva asked in concern.
"I will return, Minerva," Filius said tiredly, "however, I sense I'm going to need a headache drought by the time this day is over."
ooo0000ooo
Dumbledore
Hogwarts, Aug. 7th
Walking out of the floo and into his office, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore removed the ash from his robes with the slightest flick of his wand. Ever since Pettigrew's escape, he had been bouncing between Hogwarts, the Ministry, and even the I.C.W in Geneva. The constant traveling and sleepless nights were exhausting, but also necessary. Removing the small time turner from around his neck, Albus contemplated going back a few hours and getting some rest before he needed to look over the applicants for the open Defense and Care of Magical Creatures positions.
The briefest whiff of sulfur gave Albus pause. It was as though something had been recently burnt.
A soft trill from Fawkes bolstered his resolve, and Albus pushed the odd thought to the back of his mind. Feeling better than he had in days, Albus stroked his Phoenix's back appreciatively. Noticing a few darkened feathers, Albus said, "Your burning day is approaching faster than I anticipated. Perhaps the battle with the Basilisk took more out of you than we suspected."
Fawkes playfully nipped at his owner's fingers.
"I know, I know," Albus said teasingly, "you're a mighty creature that fights Basilisks. You don't need anyone to look after you."
Bursting into flames, Fawkes disappeared for a moment before reappearing with a magazine between his talons.
"And what is this?" Albus asked with some amusement, accepting the magazine from his familiar.
Sitting down behind his desk, Dumbledore read the small note on the cover of the magazine from Lily Potter.
If anyone was watching Albus Dumbledore as he read the article on Harry Potter's achievement, they would have been surprised at the Headmaster's reaction to the article. Albus had always held himself as an educator first, and he was well-known for celebrating his students and friends' achievements. Therefore, it was very odd to see not even the slightest hint of pride on his face; however, while there was no outward sign of happiness, Dumbledore did not appear upset or disappointed in any way. The man simply read the article with a consistently blank face, devoid of emotion. The only sign that Dumbledore was even affected by what he read was the slightest hint of a twinkle in his eye as he read about his pseudo-grandson's discovery in Transfiguration.
As soon as he completed the article, Dumbledore set the magazine down and quickly wrote a congratulatory note to Harry for his achievement.
"Do you mind, Fawkes?" Dumbledore asked, holding out the letter to his familiar.
Fawkes looked hesitantly at his master and let out a burst of song before taking the note and flaming away to deliver the letter to Harry Potter.
With a sigh, Albus glanced towards his quarters with a despondent expression on his face. The people at Durmstrang weren't the only ones holding onto memories of Gellert Grindelwald.
Reaching into his robes, Albus removed a small time turner. He gave the device two turns, and felt goosebumps rise on his arms as the device's magic activated to take him two hours into the past. With a casual flick of his wand, he cast a privacy spell on his door and blocked his floo, before getting up and walking to his quarters.
Ignoring the various enchanted objects and devices that sat around his bedroom, Albus walked up to a small muggle portrait of a sailboat and waved his wand. The portrait began to warp and shift before Dumbledore's eyes, and a single shelf of books appeared before him. Removing a small leather-bound journal, Dumbledore re-transfigured the books and shelf back into the portrait.
Running a finger down the spine of the journal, Albus' blue eyes were devoid of their typical mirth.
In flawless German, Albus spat out, "Für das größere Wohl."
Without any other prompting, the book opened, prominently exposing the inscription on the first page for all to see.
The magic and knowledge within this book is dedicated to the wizards and witches of the world. What we start here in Godric's Hollow shall spread across the world. I, Gellert Grindelwald, and I, Albus Dumbledore agree to pledge our lives, our magic, and our eternal souls to the achievement of the following principles:
That no Wizard or Witch should be forced to hide what they are.
That no Muggle should be free to harass, harm, or belittle those with magic.
That no Wizard or Witch shall EVER submit to the will of a Muggle, for they are the lesser beings.
What we do now, is for the greater good.
Turning the page, Albus stared at the small photograph of two young men standing shoulder to shoulder with broad grins on their faces. Albus watched impassively as Gellert laughed at something before putting his arm over a much younger version of himself. With narrowed eyes, Albus dropped the book to the floor and drew his wand.
With the tip of his wand pointing directly at the small book, Albus hesitated just momentarily before a burst of blue flames leapt from the deathstick, and the book immediately began to burn.
Albus' icy blue eyes reflected the fire, and he never looked away from the burning book until all that remained was a small pile of ash on the floor of his bedroom. With an impatient jab of his wand, Dumbeldore vanished the remains.
Letting out a breath he hadn't realize he had been holding, Albus began to prepare to get some sleep. Noticing his worn image in a mirror, he abruptly realized just how tired he appeared.
That simply wouldn't do.
He couldn't dwell on the dreams of the past any longer, not when the present needed him so very much.
ooo0000ooo
Snape
Hogwarts, Aug. 13th
Arriving just outside the gates of Hogwarts, Severus Snape looked around expectantly for the carriage that was supposed to take him up to the school. Biting back a scowl at Hagrid's incompetence, he cast a cooling charm on himself to make the wait in the summer heat more tolerable.
Nearly ten minutes later, Severus finally saw the carriage as it crested the hill and came into view of the Hogwarts gates. He did his best to ignore the two Thestrals that were pulling the object; the reptilian-like horses were always an unsettling sight. Opening the carriage door, Snape raised an eyebrow when he saw that the carriage was not as empty as he expected.
"Good evening Severus," Flitwick said pleasantly. "Hagrid mentioned he was to send this carriage for you, and I thought it might be nice to get out of the castle for a while."
Snape looked down at Flitwick with something between indifference and annoyance, but finally nodded his head affirmatively. "Indeed," he said before climbing inside the small compartment.
As the Thestrals began to turn the carriage around, Filius' smile faltered somewhat. "So, I understand you've been giving young Mr. Potter Occlumency lessons, Severus. How is young Harry progressing in the art?"
Fighting his own curiosity about the Charms teacher's motivation for the line of questioning, Snape reached out with Legilimency. He managed to sense the slightest bit of apprehension from Flitwick before the emotions abruptly vanished.
"I have never had great skill with Occlumency, Severus." Filius' tone had grown dark as he purposefully avoided Snape's eyes. "But while it has been a while since I've been on the dueling circuit, I can assure you that I remember perfectly well how to defend against Legilimency."
Snape cursed his rash decision – he should have known Flitwick would have been cognizant of Occlumency, if not versed in it. Legilimency was fairly common amongst world class duelists, and as a world champion, Filius would have had to learn how to overcome it. "If you know I am instructing Mr. Potter, then you should also know Albus has deemed it important to keep the lessons both private and secret. The Potters have many enemies, and with Pettegrew on the loose..."
"I am merely curious about how my old student is doing Severus," Filius looked indignant that he would do anything untoward with the information. "I was quite surprised when Minerva told me about Harry's interest in Occlumency. It's a very rare magic. I presume he is progressing well?"
After a moment, Severus said, "He shows a definite aptitude for the art."
Flitwick leaned back into the carriage chair and sighed. "He was quite a student. Has Minerva shown you his publication in Transfiguration Today?"
"I have not had the pleasure of reading the article." Snape paused before adding, "Though Lily did give me the highlights. She also informed me about his Potions project. Polyjuice as a second year is an impressive brew."
Nodding in agreement, Flitwick said, "Yes yes, I quite agree. It's definitely a N.E.W.T level potion. But I am curious Severus, has Harry ever mentioned anything about his time at Hogwarts to you?"
"I am not there to socialize with Mr. Potter, Filius," Snape said curtly as he mentally calculated how much longer it would take to arrive at the castle.
"Yes, of course not, I only meant that..." Filius dropped his head. "While Minerva might say it is not my fault, I am somewhat ashamed of the role I played in the events that led to Harry leaving Hogwarts. Severus, you've been inside his mind. Tell me, does he hold me responsible for the unpleasantness of his first term?"
"Even if I knew the answer to that question, I would not tell you," Snape said bluntly. "What I see in Mr. Potter's mind is not your concern." Filius blinked owlishly, and, reluctantly, nodded his head in understanding.
"However," Snape added, "I will say that every major memory I've seen of Mr. Potter has been at Durmstrang."
Flitwick blinked. "Surely not. I might not be the most able practitioner of Occlumency, but I know the theory quite well. When Mr. Potter had just started learning Occlumency, you should have been drawn to the memories that held the most emotion tied to them. Surely, his leaving of Hogwarts would have been one of them."
Severus glancing out the carriage window and was relieved to see them nearing the castle. "All the memories I saw were of Mr. Potter at Durmstrang. I cannot be certain, but, from his progress, it would not surprise me if Mr Potter had managed to subconsciously occlude his feelings towards Hogwarts." As soon as the carriage stopped, Snape opened the door. "If you are so concerned with Mr. Potter's opinion of you Filius, I suggest that you write him and find out for yourself. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have duties to perform."
Snape barely registered Flitiwick's reply as he entered the castle and quickly navigated the dungeon corridors until he reached his office. Locking the door behind him as he entered, Snape sat down behind his desk and removed a small journal from inside a drawer. Flipping to the front of the journal, Severus looked at the spell chain Harry had designed as a first year.
Next to Harry's chain, Severus drew another spell chain from memory. The second chain had never been published, and he could count on one hand the number of people alive or out of prison that knew of it. Slowly, Snape drew a line between the two chains.
It was eerie.
It was disturbing.
It was a mystery, and Severus Snape hated mysteries.
Removing the copy of Transfiguration Today Lily had sent him, Snape quickly flipped to the photograph of Harry and his Transfiguration professor. Ignoring the two men at the center of the photo, Snape watched as a very familiar girl moved into the corner of the photo for the slightest moment.
A freezing charm shot from his wand, causing the picture to become still.
Leaning in closer to get a better look at the black-haired girl, Snape knew she was the missing link. Potter had mentioned that his friend had helped him with his spell chain, and Snape knew from the boy's memories that she was the most likely candidate.
"Calypso," Snape said, testing out the name, "just who exactly are you?"
ooo0000ooo
Calypso & Romulus
Location Unknown, Aug. 19th
Falling unceremoniously on her bed, Calypso closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of her comfortable bed. She'd be leaving for Durmstrang in the morning, and she knew that Harry wouldn't arrive for a few days, which would leave her sleeping on a significantly less comfortable bed until he arrived.
The thought of Harry gave Calypso pause. They had exchanged a few letters, but the situation was tense to say the least.
A quick knock on her door caused Calypso to sit up. "Come."
Calypso watched her father casually walk into her room, his face surprisingly blank.
"Father?" She asked nervously. "Is everything alright?"
"I thought you might like to see this." Extending his hand, he handed his daughter a copy of Transfiguration Today. "Your friend made the cover."
Her eyes widening, Calypso turned the magazine over and her mouth dropped at the image of Harry laughing with Professor Rosemburg on the front of the magazine. Quickly turning to the article, Calypso smiled as she read about Harry's accomplishments.
Immediately after she finished, Calypso looked up at her father. Swallowing somewhat nervously, she asked, "This is good, right?"
"It's certainly impressive."
Annoyed that her father was avoiding her real question, Calypso said, "I know he's learning Occlumency an–"
"Yes." Romulus eyes' grew cold. "I noticed that you sent our only book on mind magic to Britain. A country which, I will remind you, has laws allowing for the seizure of such books."
"Harr–"
"Is a Potter! No matter how famous their family might now be, they are not exempt from those laws like your uncle Lucius." Romulus took a breath, instantly calming himself. "It was a mistake on your part. Do you deny that?"
Calypso narrowed her eyes at her father. "Maybe if you didn't give him a practically impossible task to complete, I wouldn't have to help him."
"So now you believe him to be incompetent?"
"That's not what I said," she countered. "Occlumency books are so rare! How would he figure it out if–"
"Ah, I understand." Romulus nodded sagely. "He isn't incompetent, he's just not resourceful enough to solve his own problems."
"Father!" Calypso said heatedly. "I'm going to work with him when we get back to Durmstrang."
"Of course you will, you don't have a choice. By sending him that book, you've hampered your own development. Tell me, have you improved at all this last month?"
Calypso did her best to appear confident. "Somewhat, sir, I –"
"Legilimens!"
Completely unprepared, Calypso felt her vision drift and begin to fade into a very familiar memory.
Romulus replayed the memory several times before moving onto another. After seeing everything he wanted, he lowered his wand; Calypso fell to her bed, stifling a cry of pain.
"Pathetic."
As much as her mind hurt, Calypso knew her father wasn't talking about her Occlumency ability.
"You know I haven't made any decisions yet, correct?"
Doing her best to sit up, Calypso said, "Yes."
"If you're trying to force my hand..."
Her eyes widened, and she looked up at her father in horror. "But you promised. If...you said if I...that if he–"
"I know what I said." Romulus stared out a window looking troubled.
"I can get you more information on Nathan Potter." Calypso said quickly. "I'll...I'll find a way. Maybe when we're practicing Occlumency together."
Romulus snorted. "The boy hardly trusts you now, Calypso. No my dear, you've burned that bridge."
Seeing her father stand up to leave, Calypso dejectedly asked, "What will it take?"
Pausing at the door, Romulus angrily turned to face his daughter. "Do not pretend that this mess is anything but your own making. You want to know what you can do? Get me useful information, push yourself and him to improve, and do not meddle in my affairs and judgments. Our family has made some rash decisions in the past. I will not make another one."
As soon as her father left, Calypso picked up the copy of Transfiguration Today from her floor. She hoped Harry would understand, but that was asking a lot.
Truthfully, even she wasn't sure what her father wanted anymore. She was only certain of one thing - her father was right. She had been careless, lazy even. If she lost her only real friend because of her own stupidity...
Taking a deep breath, Calypso tried to do the exercises to clear her mind, but after a few failed attempts, gave up for the night.
Looking at the photo of her smiling friend on the magazine, Calypso stood up and placed it on the wall with a sticking charm.
"I'll see you soon, Harry."
ooo0000ooo
Grindelwald
Nurmengard, Sept. 1st
Days passed.
Seasons changed.
He grew old.
Staring out of his small window, Gellert Grindelwald watched the cold waves of the Norwegian Sea strike the side of his prison.
His prison.
The irony always bothered him - he supposed that was the point. While he had long ago questioned some of his own methods, Gellert would never get over the insult of being trapped by his own magic. Nurmengard was more than just a building; it was a work of art, a true magical masterpiece.
He had designed a prison so formidable and terrible – both from the inside and the outside – that the International Confederation of Wizards had deemed it too cruel to use on common prisoners. Only the leaders of his Dark Army had ever been imprisoned here. His army, more than any others, knew just how much effort their master had put into the spells guarding these walls.
There had been no escapes from Nurmengard. No one had even dared to attempt it.
The ICW had once asked their own enchanters to add protections to the prison, afraid that Grindelwald and his men would know some hole in the magics that would allow them to escape.
It wasn't necessary.
Truly Grindelwald's mind, one of the greatest in the history of wizardry, had continually upgraded and improved upon his prison over the entire course of his campaign. Gellert knew of every enchantment he placed on Nurmengard, and he knew there was no way around them. When the ICW first sent their team of enchanters to increase the security for his cell, they thought they found several flaws in his containment spells, as Grindelwald knew they would. They tried to correct the flaws, only to spend their last moments alive wondering why their necks were bleeding.
In the years that would follow, no less than five guards were killed as they attempted to fool around with the prison's enchantments. The last death led to the virtual abandoning of the upper levels of the prison; house-elves were left to deliver food and remove any waste from the few surviving prisoners.
It was a bit of a surprise, then, to hear the sound of footsteps on the cold stone floor. Only the base of the prison had any guard presence and Gellert knew he was the sole surviving occupant of the prison, and no one ever came to visit him.
The sound of footsteps grew louder and louder until Gellert saw several Aurors through his cell's bars.
"Johann, William, keep your wands trained on Grindelwald at all times." The Auror paused before adding, "Orders are to stun only."
Curious about the sudden influx of visitors, Gellert asked, "May I ask why I have the pleasure of your visit?"
As soon as the first word left his lips, Gellert felt a surge of indignation. His once smooth and cultured voice was now weak from disuse. He hadn't had a reason to have a conversation with anyone since Dmitri Blagojevich died almost three years prior.
"Orders from the higher ups." The lead Auror said, eying Grindelwald with thinly veiled disgust. "Take two steps out of the cell, Grindelwald. And do it slowly."
Grindelwald reluctantly complied, eying the lead Auror with a dark glint in his eye. As soon as he was clear of the cell, and the unforgiving enchantments placed upon it, the Auror captain muttered a soft incantation.
Recognizing the spell, and knowing it would have no effect, Gellert said, "I can assure you, captain, I am no Animagus." Grindelwald fought a grin at the sudden stiffening of the captain and his subordinates. "But I do admit to being curious as to why you would check for that talent now?"
Seeing no harm in answering, a younger Auror replied, "The Brits went and fucked up. Lost a prisoner who was an animagus. The I.C.W. wants to make sure you didn't get any ideas about trying to make an escape. Not that it matters. You probably wouldn't survive the transformation. Hell, you look half dead already old man."
Gellert stared at the young Auror, his Occlumency perfectly concealing his cold fury. He knew prison hadn't been good to him. The poor food and exposure to the frigid environment were slowly killing him. The fact that he'd managed to live as long as he had –long beyond many wizards and witches who were younger and better treated than him in the prison– was a testament to his magic and his willpower. Still, while his mind was just as sharp as the day he was thrown into prison, his body hadn't fared as well.
His hair was the first to go. His blond locks fell from his head only a few months after he was locked away in Nurmengard – to this day Gellert suspected his rapid hair loss was the result of some botched poisoning attempt by the guards. Years without access to hygiene charms had caused his teeth to rot in his mouth, his fingernails to turn yellow with poor nutrition and possibly some kind of fungus, and the the continued exposure to the elements and poor food resulted in his body thinning dramatically, until he had become the skeleton of a man that he was now.
His piercing blue eyes, sunken into the depths of his skull, were the only feature that time had not faded. Perhaps it was fate's cruel joke that he would be blessed with perfect vision, yet have nothing to see besides the never-ending waves of the Norwegian Sea crashing against the base of his prison.
His eyes still locked on the smug young Auror who had dared to insult him, Gellert quietly commented, "There was a time when I would have ripped off your jaw for speaking to me in that manner. Do be careful on your descent back down to the first floor. The prison's enchantments – my enchantments – have proven dangerous to your comrades in the past."
"Back into your hole," the captain ordered, growing more uncomfortable with the exchange. He watched as Grindelwald walked back into his small cell before he stepped forward and manually closed the cell doors. "Johann, William, head downstairs. I'll be right behind you."
The two younger Aurors gave one final glance at the now grinning Grindelwald before turning around and leaving him.
"Going to curse me, captain?" Grindelwald asked once the other Aurors had left. "I admit it has been some time since an Auror has vented his rage upon me."
"Don't get your hopes up. I have no desire to curse the half-dead." The Auror smiled slightly. "Besides, from what I hear, your mind is just as sharp as the day you were caught. Sitting around all day and contemplating your fuck ups, knowing you'll never get a chance to rectify your mistakes or reshape the world like you wanted is probably a better torture than any curse I could come up with." A slight smile appeared on the guard's face as he continued to looked at the feeble prisoner. "Tell me old man, would you care for some recent reading material?"
Gellert did his best to appear indifferent, but it was difficult. He could feel the Auror's emotions through Legilimency, and he knew the man was greatly enjoying taunting him. Still, Gellert would take any new reading material he could get. Normally, he was only given a new book every year on April 8th – the anniversary of his famous defeat to Albus Dumbledore. The fiction stories were always the most boring, poorly written, and ill conceived pieces of literature in the world – honestly, who would believe an elite school of assassins would be in Canada? – and he had long wished for some kind of connection to the outside world.
The soft thud of a magazine being dropped into his cell brought Grindelwald's attention back to the Auror. "I would suggest that you start on page five. You should find the topic entertaining."
Reaching down, Grindelwald greedily snatched up the magazine in his hands, never breaking eye contact with the Auror until the man turned and left.
Returning to his small cot, the former dark lord was pleasantly surprised to discover the magazine in question was a fairly worn, but recent, issue of Transfiguration Today. Unable to hide his interest in what feats of magic had been pioneered over the last half century, Grindelwald quickly flipped open the magazine and began to read it from page one.
As soon as he read the headline on page five, Gellert understood why he had been gifted this particular magazine. His eyes took in every word of the article. He read and re-read about the young magical prodigy at his old school.
"You finished yet old man?"
Gellert turned to see the young Auror William, the one who had insulted him, had returned; he sported a typical arrogant smirk on his face. He immediately turned his attention back toward the more deserving magazine.
"No."
"Well I'm afraid your time's up. Captain sent me up to get the magazine back. You're not allowed any contraband in your cell." Removing his wand the Auror lazily said, "Accio magazine."
Holding the magazine between his hands, Grindelwald easily fought off the Auror's weak spell.
"What the hell?" The Auror said in surprise. "Accio magazine!"
Once again, Gellert felt the magic wash over him, and, yet again, the summoning spell failed to even tug at the magazine in his grip.
"What are you doing old man?" The Auror demanded. "Turn over the magazine immediately!"
"No."
"Accio magazine!"
Grindelwald smiled and he turned his back to the Auror, gleefully turning the page to re-read Harry Potter's interesting final projects.
"Accio magazine! Accio magazine!"
"Are you quite done?" Grindelwald asked in a bored tone. "My desire to keep the magazine far surpasses your desire to take it. Therefore, you're extremely unlikely to be able to overpower me for it. Has the magical education system really fallen so much since my imprisonment that you never learned such a basic concept?"
"Accio Grindelwald!"
Gellert laughed for the first time in years. Turning around, he slowly stood up and faced the Auror. "Regardless of what my body might appear, my magic remains quite strong. If you think you can overpower me with a summoning charm, you're deluded."
Noticing that Grindelwald was standing less than an arms length away from him, the enraged Auror reached through the bars and grabbed the front of Grindelwald's tattered clothes. Pulling the old man closer, the Auror snapped, "Give me the magazine."
"Why should I?" Grindelwald hissed maliciously. He was inches from the Auror's face, now, and the sudden awareness of just who this prisoner used to be – and still was – hit the young Auror faster than the old dark lord's hideous breath; Grindelwald didn't even have to use Legilimency to sense the sheer terror that was radiating from boy in front of him.
With all his strength, the Auror pushed Grindelwald away, sending the old man tumbling backwards and falling into the stone floor.
"Captain said we shouldn't bother cursing you," the Auror said shakily, slowly gaining back some confidence at the sight of the fallen Grindelwald, "but I think you're just asking for it."
Ignoring the pain in his back from the fall, Grindelwald hid a smile and pushed himself as far back into the cell as he could.
Drawing his wand, the Auror extended his wand arm between the bars of the cell to get a clean shot off.
The sound of a piercing scream, quickly followed by a blaring alarm, alerted the Aurors at the base of the tower of a cell's defensive measures being activated. The four man response team raced up the stairs to the only occupied cell. Upon arriving, they found their comrade writhing on the ground. The young Auror's face was covered in blisters and his right arm was severed at the shoulder. Glancing inside the cell, the Aurors saw a pile of ash just inside, and a content looking Gellert Grindelwald sitting on his cot, casually flipping through a magazine.
"I did warn the boy." Grindelwald spoke up ominously, surprising the Aurors. "I told the boy that my enchantments were quite dangerous. Honestly, reaching through the bars with a wand." Grindelwald scoffed with a small smile on his face as the armless Auror moaned in pain. "Surely this simpleton knew there was a reason I had to be checked for magic outside of the cell."
Gellert watched as the Aurors quickly stunned and levitated their colleague away. The Aurors would get their revenge, he was certain. They'd sabotage his food, or tell the house elves to remove his bed's sole blanket. Still, the look on the arrogant boy's face when he realized what a huge mistake he had made was quite priceless. Yes, he might have made some mistakes in the past, but that didn't mean the undeserving didn't need to be put into their place. For the Greater Good, indeed, he thought, a content grin twisting his lips at the thought of his old slogan.
With a smile on his face, Grindelwald flipped back a page to the photo of Harry Potter and his Transfiguration Professor.
"Thank you for the entertainment this evening, Mr. Potter," Grindelwald said to the waving figures in the photograph, "and my deepest congratulations."
A/N: Well, consider this a holiday treat.
Now, this update is dedicated to the girl who was eating lunch outside on my college campus and decided to discuss my story in public with her friends. When my friends and I walked passed you, I nearly gave myself whiplash when I heard you mention me. I was so very tempted to turn around and say something, but I was with friends, and explaining the concept of fanfiction to them would have been awkward. Still, I found the entire situation hilarious. Thanks for making me laugh back in November.
Anyway, I'm currently going through some rather serious real life stuff at the moment, and I'm going to be away for a while. The story isn't abandoned, on hiatus, or anything like that, but don't expect an update for a month or two. Sorry, but that's life something.
Please drop me a review, and I hope everyone has a great holiday.