"It's good to see you're still around," Tom's usual inexpressive voice greeted as he stepped up behind me, "What is this place?"

"Our first home," I answered in the same monotone, "Or at least the first one I remember."

Until buying our latest spot in the Arkansas National Park, there had been one residence that could be considered nice on our endless string of house-hopping. Although, by the looks of it, we must have been its last owners. The three bedroom cabin was waterfront property along one of the more obscure lakes in Washington State. It was surrounded by an old wooden privacy fence and was the only structure within miles. It was strange to me that it had never been reclaimed...until I used a couple of detection spells- forms of revelio that I had learned from Tom- to find it had been heavily warded from view. It made me wonder why Delilah had felt the need to leave the protected property.

I had decided to return there to bury her which had been harder than anticipated. My memory was foggy so direct apparation would have been dangerous. Instead, I had gone to the Hot Springs visitor's center where full color photographs of not only its park, but of other National Parks, were on display. With a good picture of Olympic National Park in my mind, I transported myself there to get photos of the state's lakes and went through the list, apparating to each of them and searching for the old cabin. After I had given my mother a proper burial and reset the magical shields around the area, I'd called for Tom.

"Seen better days, hasn't it?" he observed as he looked over the crumbling structure, the overgrowth, and the flooded back yard.

"Show me where to go to find out more about Gellert," I demanded whilst ignoring him.

"Who?" his voice showed the lightest hint of inflection.

"Gellert Grindelwald," I sighed, "My father."

After a moment of silence on Tom's end, I twisted my neck to see him from where I'd been kneeling in front of my mother's fresh grave at a safe distance from the water. He wore an odd expression. I didn't know if I was bad at reading people or if since he was typically so stoic...plain as far as emotion went, that when he showed them they came out muddled, but I had starting picking up on the fact that when there was a feeling behind his look, I couldn't place it. Possibilities, maybe, but...

"What?" my vision narrowed while I studied him.

"How is it you've never told me his name?" his demeanor seemed to shift back slightly, as if he were relaxing to his normal state again.

"Wasn't pertinent," I shrugged, "It's not like we've ever discussed many personal matters in detail."

"Hm, indeed," he agreed, pursing his lips and dropping his eyes momentarily like he was thinking.

"What is it? You know the name?" I wondered, beginning to rise from my spot.

"I do," Tom nodded, "Many wizards know that name."

"Judging by your reaction, then he is some sort of evil person like my mother always said," I guessed, "And a known one at that."

"That's true, he was," my friend confirmed.

"Was?"

"He's dead now," Tom informed me, "He was killed actually...recently. Within the decade."

Other than a furrowed brow, I didn't give much of a reaction and I wasn't sure if that was normal or not. Not that I cared for being appropriate about it, but it did send me wondering if I should have an emotional reaction to finding out the father I had never known just died after also finally having a way to possibly get in touch with him. The last bit only slightly distressed me knowing there'd be no getting word from the horse's mouth. However, if he had been as dangerous as Delilah let on, perhaps it was fortunate.

"What exactly was his crime?" I inquired.

"There were many," my teacher answered matter-of-factly, "Suffice it to say he had a long history of violence...ever since he was young."

I stepped closer to the wizard who had turned and placed his attention on the lake, "That's pretty vague."

Tom took in a deep breath as he suddenly switched his body's focus to me again, his eyes intent, "He was expelled from the institute in Russia where he studied for cruel experimentation that directly cost the lives of fellow students and other creatures. Experiments to gain power and venture into unknown strengths of the Dark Arts."

The man's face had turned expressionless, his vision remaining fixated upon me like he was keen to take in any response, any subtle nuance my face might relay as to how I felt about this information. I wasn't sure if my looks betrayed anything, but I wasn't startled or upset by what he told me. I wasn't concerned for what harm my father may have done to innocents in his quest for knowledge. What was on my mind was, "Did he learn much from them?"

Tom tilted his head, then slowly allowed a smirk to creep onto his face and straightened himself, "That's what I'd like to find out. Gerald, I have a bit of a confession to make."

Vision narrowed and body tense as my mind processed that this statement typically preceded learning of a lie that was told, I simply stared at the wizard not a foot in front of me and waited for him to continue.

"I had suspected that you could possibly be the son of Grindelwald," he confessed. "You see, I previously looked into more details concerning some of his experiments. What I found most interesting were his notes on wandless magic. As you know, it isn't something usually achieved by wizards except for a few spells and some minor tricks."

"Elves and goblins, right?" I spoke in a low, unconvinced tone.

"That's right. And Veela..." he returned, "Something that isn't common knowledge, however, is that up until the last century, there were still some cultures with wizards who had simply just never used wands. Granted their magic became much more on par with the rest of the world once they adopted use of this product, their own wandless magic beforehand was advanced compared to what we've known."

"Was looking for these people what led you to America?" I guessed.

"Yes," he confirmed, "These were actually small cultures located in both Africa and America. I found it easier to communicate with American natives than African natives as a large portion of those left of the Native American tribes do speak English. That and it's easier to traverse this country than the deep parts of Africa."

"Indians?" I thought on this interesting tidbit.

"Native Americans, Gerald," Tom corrected with a critical look, "Don't be disrespectful to those who were here first."

"I didn't- um..." I fumbled, not liking his judging me, "That's just what I've always heard them called. I didn't realize it was rude..."

"Chickasaw."

I threw a confused glance, "Huh?"

"There is a tribe of Native Americans in the Southeastern Woodlands by the name 'Chickasaw'," he explained.

"Southeast..." I repeated under my breath, "You mean here- er- back in Arkansas?"

"Almost. More like Mississippi and Tennessee. The point is," he re-directed with a shrug, "I ended up in your area when my search of these lands turned out dry."

"Ind- I mean, Native land is federally protected. You have to be part of the tribe or a trusted friend to visit," I told him, "I'd imagine they wouldn't be very keen on you just nosing about."

The wizard gave another odd look. This one seemed sort of like he was baffled by my casual interest in this part of the conversation. Maybe he didn't expect his little admission to have gone over so easily? Anyway, he about rolled his eyes and moved on, "Yes... Even thus, I didn't get the sense of any great magical power there so I broadened my range, figuring that more of the tribe might actually live off the reservation yet nearby. It ended with me finding you."

"That's it?" I was taken off guard by the abrupt conclusion, "What then made you think I could be related to Grindelwald?" a stupid thought hit me and for some reason, I couldn't help but to voice it, "If it's the hair, I swear to god..."

I expected a laugh, but instead was met with Tom lifting his eyes to glance at that wild fluff on my head, and then lowering them as if baffled again, "It wasn't your hair, though I've only ever seen wizards with it as such a young age... No, Gerald, your mother was part of that tribe."

"What?" I considered this yet didn't believe, "Fuck off! How could you have even known that? I couldn't even find anything on her and I had more information than you."

Tom raised a brow and switched to an accusatory voice, clearly unimpressed that I'd outright suspected any fault in his story, "Did you check the private registry of the Chickasaw Nation?"

Shit. No, I had not... I didn't even know that was a thing different than regular databases...

"I thought not," he chuckled.

"Alright," I softened my tone, "I still don't see how this connects me to Grindelwald directly."

"When you proved to me that you could, in fact, perform without a wand," Tom furthered, "I suspected that it was possible for him to have bred you."

My lips parted awkwardly, questioning the phrasing, "Bred?"

"Part of Gellert's studies taught me that these traditionally wandless people were deeply rooted in another world, separate from both the muggle and wizarding communities," his eyes brightened in fascination, "A spiritual world. You see, Gerald," Tom turned his sight from me and began a deliberate stroll toward the water, "It was through this connection that they were able to have such capabilities. As humanity progressed, their people died out, and lastly with the introduction of the wand...this connection grew very strained and weak..." he twisted around to see me again and smirked, "But that spiritual world remains; it is only difficult to attain access."

"And...that's what my father did," I was desperately trying to soak in all of this new knowledge, "Was try to get to this...spiritual realm."

"Didn't try...he succeeded."

I crossed my arms and let out an exasperated breath. This continued dialogue was starting to frustrate me. I felt there must have been a much easier way to go about it. Just spill it all at once instead of in increments. Then again, he had been the teacher so maybe he knew what he was doing. Even if that was the case, I was getting tired and just wanted it to fucking end already, "Tom, I'm really getting a headache. Can we finish this up soon?"

"You, Gerald," he scoffed, "You're the connection. You're not human...at least not entirely. Grindelwald somehow found a way to impregnate your mother with not only his seed, but with the essence of one of the creatures from this other world. After knowing you and everything I learned from his stores...I'm completely convinced."

He seemed happy- not something he'd ever been too eager to show. I, on the other hand, was not and made an obvious roll of my eyes as I stepped around and started to walk away, "I'm not. All sounds ludicrous."

Nearly the instant I had finished the first pace, Tom was suddenly in front of me, having apparated less than a foot in front of my face and causing me to jump back, "Gerald, up until a year ago, you hadn't a clue about magic at all and now this is what you find hard to believe?"

"I...Show me," I challenged, "Show me all this stuff- these studies that belonged to my father. Prove this to me absolutely."

"You don't trust me?" the wizard asked, not hurt, not offended, or even surprised...it was more...menacingly.

"I need to know. I can't just...believe. Not anymore..." I dropped my head momentarily, raising it again with a shake, "Delilah may have been a little extreme, but she was right...she didn't lie about there being someone after us. And if it was in the past decade that he was killed then...that was probably the only reason she never really fought me to stay hidden any longer. I have to know. I can't go on with something with any questions in my mind... You understand, don't you, friend?"

Tom's entire persona fell straight, void of emotion as he apparently contemplated my proposal, "Yes," he finally said and gave a smiling nod, "I'll prove it to you then."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: For those unaware, the series that Gerald is from (Secrets of Grindelwald which can be found on my profile) is as close to canon as I can make it. Gerald's back story (Part 1 of Misadventures) is also meant to be closely canon though there are a few mnor differences, largely to do with Fantastic Beasts not yet being finished. One minor detail is that Grindelwald married. That being said, I wanted to point out that Grindelwald's lifespan is one of the canon bits that is true to this story, meaning Tom Riddle is lying about him having been killed as we all know that he was the one to kill imprisoned Grindelwald in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I do not feel like revealing this is going to hurt your enjoyment of the story lol. And as a reminder, Grindelwald was imprisoned in 1945 until his death.

Concerning the canon nature of the Native American and African part- according to the Harry Potter wiki: the wand was a European invention, and some cultures traditionally did not rely upon wands for performing magic. Native American witches and wizards traditionally practised wandless magic. African witches and wizards also historically practised wandless magic, and continued to use it to cast many even after adopting the wand in the 20th century .

Since that is all that is said on it, I took the liberty of creating the Chickasaw tribe as one of the only remaining tribes to have traditionally practiced wandless magic. Chickasaw Nation is located in and originated from said southern states above and knowing Native lore concerning spirit animals, dream catchers, etc, and how for the longest they were deeply rooted in spiritual, nature-centered beliefs, I did form the story about how they achieved this capability around that idea.

For an extra tidbit- I have always had family that said I had a Chickasaw ancestor so I am currently undergoing investigation into my ancestry to determine if that is factual or not. Wish me luck!