Grindelwald escapes! In a shocking twist of events, after forty seven years, the dark lord has managed to escape his imprisonment. Officials are still befuddled at how this happened, though a hundred of the ICW's elite guards have mysteriously disappeared and are presumed killed, given the signs of a vicious battle occurring through the prison's hallways.
Grindelwald was imprisoned in Nurmengard, which had served as a political prison for enemies of his regime during the Great War. The defenses to this day have not been fully understood by any cursebreaker. It was decided to be the ideal location to house the dark lord given the destruction of many other high security facilities during the war.
How he managed to escape is still unclear, given the rigorous security measures placed around him, but the effects of his escape are being felt as ministries in France and Germany have imposed new restrictions on their populations and passed kill on sight orders.
It is difficult to ascertain just how his actions will affect the current political climate. Some experts warn that given the tension between the French and German ministries, the call to arms for both countries could destabilise the fragile peace achieved. Meanwhile, there have been mullings by the Russian ministry of remobilisation, which given the history of its magical fighting forces would truly be a terrifying prospect. What does the dark lord plan? Only time will tell.
All readers are reminded that Grindelwald is a master manipulator and combatant. Despite likely still recuperating his strength, the ICW advises anyone who spots the Dark Lord to call their ministry immediately and avoid all direct contact.
Harry set down the paper with a thoughtful hum. Sarah, who had been reading from over his shoulder, looked at him curiously, clearly gauging for a reaction. Around them, other students who were also reading the newspapers were in various states of shock.
"Is this good news?"
"It's...an opportunity," Harry mused. "Not without its dangers, but also with its opportunities."
"Your plan?"
"Continue with what we're doing," Harry shrugged. "Grindelwald's main powerbase was always in France and Germany, and the ministries know it. When they infight, it will present many opportunities to further our operations unhindered. I doubt he will expand to the BMU or Eastern Europe as a whole, and to be honest I doubt the enclaves in the Balkans would follow him again."
"You believe there will be war?"
"Not a question of if, but when and whom," Harry pointed out. "In the Americas, Cuba is falling into anarchy without the USSR. In the former Union, Russia is trying to reassert itself. In Asia, China is looking to expand. In Africa and the Middle East various factions continue to vy for power. Besides the panic of Grindelwald, France and Germany are at each other's throats, while Italy and Spain are falling into a nationalist fervour with their failing economies. Not to mention the Balkan enclaves threatening to drag all sides into war."
"And are we...prepared?"
"No...not yet, anyhow. We need at least two more years, by my best guess, one and a half if we're being optimistic. Albert's acquisitions in the muggle world are going less smooth than expected," Harry answered. "The situation in the BMU is slowly reaching the tipping point, but we're not quite there yet."
"It's a gamble," Sarah warned. "The weaker the BMU becomes, the more appetising a target it presents for our enemies. Grindelwald or Dumbledore could easily try and impact it."
"Perhaps, but I don't believe they will. Grindelwald is hated by most in Eastern Europe. While his focus is on recuperation, the logical choice would be to remain in his power bases of Western Europe. Dumbledore's powerbase is Britain, and he's traditionally advocated for relative isolation. Given his track record, he will not interfere either. No, there are two enemies far more likely to do so."
Sarah didn't comment on the clear worry on his normally serene face. It was testament to the trust between the two that both lowered their guards around each other. "Who?"
"The first, my former boss, one General White. Ruthless, cunning, well connected...he is the type of individual I fear most."
"How so?"
"He is a man from the shadows, who would be content watching his pawns falling left and right as he advanced towards his goals with a single minded focus. He has an unusual ability to identify weaknesses in other individuals and maximise the exploitation of them," Harry lectured, the respect colouring his tone surprising Sarah.
"You...fear him?"
"What he lacks in power which the likes of other dark lords have, he makes up for with his mind. I refuse to underestimate the man, considering that despite my considerable resources, I can't even confirm if he's six feet under or not."
"And the other?"
"Emily Riddle, better known as Voldemort." This managed to elicit a gasp from Sarah, who looked queasy at the very thought.
"I thought...I thought she was defeated…"
"Only temporarily vanquished. I have it on very good authority that she is very much alive and plotting her return," Harry sighed, a dark look on his face. "I don't think I need to emphasise how her magic was feared across Europe for a good reason."
"Your threat analysis?"
"Voldemort, White, Grindelwald, Dumbledore," he answered after a moment of thought. "To be frank, against the three dark lords I would be crushed, while against White...I shudder to even consider him as an enemy," Harry admitted.
"You'll surpass all of them," Sarah assured, taking Harry back with the confidence coloring her voice and the vehemence in her composure. "Not yet...but you'll surpass all of them one day. And I'll be by your side."
"I'm glad," he smiled warmly. "Make no mistake, I know you're buttering me up to get more training, and the only reason you're getting one over me in this is because I allow it."
"A win is a win," she grinned. Harry couldn't dispute this, and merely settled for chuckling at her antics.
-Break-
"Come, come, class," professor Aribage encouraged. To call it a 'class' would be generous, considering it consisted of Harry and Alana. "I've got a special treat for us today."
The man seemed even more jovial than usual, almost a bounce to his step as they left the classroom and descended down several obscure steps. At a particular stop in the wall, he gestured to them to stop, taking out his necklace, which contained a metal cylinder, and revealing a secret passageway. Ushering them inside, the professor withdrew the metal cylinder, causing the stones t replace themselves, and several torches to light up in the corridor.
"Almost there," he assured, moving forward as the torches lit up one by one as they walked past, blue flames ominously cackling. Descending down a spiral staircase, Aribage fished out a golden key from his pocket and gingerly inserted into the keyhole, unlocking the door with a click. "And here we are."
Opening the door, they were immediately assaulted by the potent sensation of magic flooding out of the room. Harry manipulated his aura to begin absorbing some of the excess magic, lessening the effects on the other two individuals, who looked relieved from the action.
"Um...Harry, you're glowing," Alana pointed out uneasily.
"I know, it's normal when I'm absorbing this much magic," he assured. "Professor, I presume this is the Durmstrang wardroom?"
"Right in one," the professor applauded, leading them inside. There were seven stones arranged in a circle, each a large slab of diamond with thousands of runes carved onto them. Runes drawn in platinum lined the floor, thrumming with magic as the seven stones interacted with each other. "With Grindelwald's escape, the highmaster wanted me to inspect the wards. I thought you would appreciate the opportunity to accompany me, though please do keep this quiet."
"Of course, professor," Harry assured after noticing Alana was too engrossed in observing the runes to listen to the professor. He observed as Aribage cast several analysis charms, making note to research a few he wasn't aware of. Flashes of red and green indicated the passing or failing of various tests, though by the end, only the professor's frown gave Harry any sort of indication there was a problem.
"This isn't right…" Aribage muttered under his breath. "Unless…aha. There it is."
Stalking over to one of the wardstones, he gently waved his wand in careful motions, carving a small hole in the protective enchantments to allow him access to the stone. Quickly, he carved several of the runes deeper, before quickly withdrawing just as a thrum of magic flooded the room.
He watched the professor cast the charms again, this time far more green sparks than red. Harry observed the professor's actions carefully, waiting until he was finished before inquiring, "What spells were those?"
"Ah, I'm not surprised you haven't heard of them, they're curse breaking analysis spells. I could teach you, if you wanted."
"That would be lovely," Harry quickly agreed, moving to the professor's side.
"The most important thing to know about wards is the feel of them. Reach out, and try to sense it," Aribage encouraged. Harry did so, nearly blinded by the sheer multitude of colours all flashing in quick succession, representing the layers of protections interacting with each other. He struggled to tell them apart.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Aribage chuckled. "I imagine you're just seeing patches of colour. This is normal for a beginner in ward sensing. It takes years of familiarising yourself with the feeling of different ones to begin truly distinguishing them."
"I look forward to learning under your tutelage," Harry deferred. The professor acknowledged this with a smile.
-Break-
"Daughter," Zakharov greeted stiffly as Katerina entered the Dark Arts professor's office. Closing the door behind her, she clamped down on her occlumency.
"Father," she greeted neutrally, standing still as the man's eyes scrutinised her for several moments.
"Sit," he pointed to the chair in front. Obeying, she quickly lowered herself onto the seat, looking at him expectantly. He continued to mark an essay, before quickly scribbling a 'disappointment' on it and setting the stack aside. "How have you been?"
"As well as can be. My studies are progressing well."
"You know that wasn't what I meant," Zakharov drawled, causing Katerina to involuntarily stiffen in her seat. "You tell me you are White's friend, yet everytime I see him, he is accompanied by that girl Sitara. I thought I made my expectations very clear."
"My influence with him is strong. He helped ease your taking of the Dark Arts professorship, did he not?" Katerina challenged. Zakharov merely snorted.
"A Zakharov bows before no one, daughter. And yet, not only do you prostrate yourself before that no-name, you are not even in his favour," the man slammed a fist on his desk, glowering at Katerina, who fought hard to remain impassive. "Am I wrong, daughter?"
"It's...not that simple. He has many different projects, a place for each other. I am his second, make no mistake of it. My position is secure," Katerina replied, more confidence in her voice than she truly felt. Doubt began to creep into her mind...he had been spending less time with her, did Harry's disappointment in the advanced protection squads lose her his favour?
"Really, then what are you working on?"
"I...cannot betray his confidence," she shook her head. He had a look of irritation on her face.
"I am your father, you will tell me what I wish to know."
"I am under oath," she gritted out. His eyes widened before narrowing dangerously. "You can call me many things, but a traitor is not one of them."
"Good," he sniffed, for the first time a faint smile on his face. "At least I've taught you that much. You have read the news, I trust?"
"Grindelwald's escape? Yes, I'm aware," she nodded darkly.
"What does White plan on doing to address that?"
"He's briefed us on the situation. He believes Grindelwald to be of little immediate concern," Katerina shrugged. Her father eyed her in disbelief.
"Not a concern…" he spat. "Is White deluded or insane?"
"Harry suggested Grindelwald was still weak and would be recuperating in Western Europe. Given the ministries there are already taking action, he believes that it will be a while before Grindelwald could hope to regain his former influence," Katerina proffered, despite the slight doubt in her own mind about the validity of that.
"Then you have chosen to follow a fool," her father sighed bitterly. "You cannot understand the power Grindelwald held...still holds. He remained the single closest to world domination in the history of magic. Is he truly so arrogant to think that he will be unaffected."
"Harry is capable."
"Of that I have no doubt. To have effectively stolen Durmstrang from the clutches of the board and the staff he must have been. Ivarin was no fool...for him to concede...White must truly be something."
"What will our family do about Grindelwald's rise?"
"We do what we have always done. We stand against that monster with everything we had," the man resolved. Gingerly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an elegant leatherbound book, placing the tome in front of her.
"The grimoire," she breathed out in awe, tentatively reaching out and touching its surface. He smiled thinly.
"The dark lord will undoubtedly come after me, I fear I have not long to live. Your grandfather is proud, but he is not what he once was. Neither of us will survive another war. But I shall begin teaching you all that I know," he swore. "Make no mistake, you will continue our proud legacy, or die trying."
"Of that we are in agreement," Katerina smiled darkly, taking out her wand.
-Break-
Antonin Rosier sighed as he completed yet more mundane paperwork. The elderly lord knew his time was coming to a close soon, though he had little recourse. The Rosiers had dwindled from the Great War, both in wealth and number, until now only six members of the family lived. The loss of his sister Vinda to Dumbledore had embittered the man, and even now, the thought caused rage to bubble to his surface thoughts.
Their lord had somehow escaped from prison, though how Antonin could not be certain. Most of the old guard were dead by now, and he had no doubt that his lord would come and seek him out soon enough. It was an exciting prospect for the man, to regain everything his family had stolen from them and then some.
He raised the glass of whiskey to his lips, but his arm stopped halfway when he felt a slight tremor to the wards. Frowning, he quickly set down the drink, and pulled out his wand. It would not be the first time that an assassin had found his manor despite the precautions taken.
Throwing open the doors, he stalked through the elaborate hallways and to the atrium, a curse on his lips and the tip of his wand, when Antonin was assaulted by the sensation of magic pouring out, almost suffocating in its viscosity. In front of him, the leading figure removed his hood, and there stood the haggard, but still mighty form of his lord, Gellert Grindlewald.
"Milord," he fell to his knees. "You have escaped at last! How I dreamed of this day!"
"Indeed, my old friend," Grindelwald's rasped voice came out, belying the fatigue the man held. "I have felt your many attempts to free me, for which you shall be rewarded once I regain my strength."
"The Rosier family stands with you, milord," Antonin swore.
"Rise, my old friend. There is work to be done."
-Break-
"The continent is in an uproar," war mage Vanner sighed, running a hand through her long blonde hair. "My four deputies are running themselves haggard trying to find Grindelwald, but it's risky. Weakened as he may be, they're not capable of handling such a threat alone."
"I agree with Ada," war mage Throndsen sighed. "Our operations are unsustainable, we require more assistance."
"What would you have us do? There's been enough problems in South America as it is, and the situation is even worse in Asia," war mage González challenged. "As of the moment, Grindelwald remains a minor threat with little power base. Surely the intervention of eight deputies and two war mages in addition to efforts on the continent should be sufficient to contain the threat."
"Grindelwald is cunning, intelligent, ruthless and powerful. If we allow him to rise, I fear even the eight of us will be insufficient to contain the man," Vanner ground out, looking to Dumbledore. The elderly supreme mugwump sighed.
"While I concede that we are stretched too thin as it is, I do believe that some level of support must be spared for Europe considering the historic implications," Dumbledore mused. He could tell no one in the room was happy about that, though none outright rebutted, which the warlock took as a good sign. "If we take two aides from America, Asia and Africa, that bolsters the number in Europe to ten, a far cry from the four present right now. I believe for now, that would be our best course of action. If anyone else has a better proposal, I would be happy to hear of it."
"Agreed," war mage Ignen, the most senior after Patil's retirement, nodded reluctantly. This caused murmurs of assent to emerge from the others present, reluctant as they were.
"Very well, until we can get more information on that, this issue is settled then," Dumbledore smiled. "Now, let us move onto the situation in the Balkans."
"It's uncontrollable," Throndsen bemoaned. "The factions are at each other's throats. Whenever I send anyone less than a deputy they end up returned to me cut up in pieces. Between that and the hunt for Grindelwald, we're stretched too thin. I propose we withdraw."
"The ICW has committed to maintaining the zone for ten years. Countless lives would be lost if we withdrew," Dumbledore chided.
"A small sacrifice considering the potential damage Grindelwald could cause. The Balkans remains a regional issue, while Grindelwald's reached even the Americas. We must prioritise, there is little recourse," Ignen.
"Surely the council isn't reneging on its commitment," Dumbledore supplicated, though the stony visages of the eight war mages crushed any hope he may have had. Inwardly, he knew the point had to be conceded, there just weren't enough resources. "Very well...I will take this to the confederation for further discussion. Unless there are any other issues…"
Ignen raised his hand, and Dumbledore gestured for the war mage to speak. "I propose bringing the ICW to wartime status and increasing the number of deputies in each region to eight."
"Seconded," Throndsen quickly agreed. Dumbledore mulled over the proposal before nodding his assent.
"Are there any objections?" None in the room spoke up, and Dumbledore sighed wearily. "I shall bring this up to the confederation for ratification, then. Have a pleasant day, everybody."
-Break-
Nicholas and Pernelle Flamel sat in their tiny cottage in rural France, sipping their tea and enjoying the countryside, when suddenly the wards cracked. Both immediately set their teacups down, withdrawing their wands.
"Is it Grindelwald?" Pernelle asked her husband worriedly. He shook his head.
"No...this magic, it is far darker...I believe we are about to face Voldemort," he sighed gravely. "She must be here for the stone."
Without warning, the wards fractured, before completely collapsing, the sound of shattered glass echoing hauntingly in the fields as Nicholas stood his ground while Pernelle rushed inside to the house.
"Hand over the stone, there is no need for either you or your wife to die today," Voldemort drawled as she emerged at the front of the house, lazily shielding against a large thunderbolt Flamel sent at her. "Surrender, and all will be forgiven."
"Against you? Never!" the alchemist spat, firing several more spells at Voldemort. Lazily, she flicked her wand, firing the killing curse. He fell to the floor with a thud, dead.
"Nicholas!" an anguished cry yelled. Voldemort looked up to see that Pernelle, clutching the glowing red Philosopher's stone, had tears in her eyes, her body frozen. "You monster!"
She threw the stone to the ground, causing it to shatter into pieces in defiance. Voldemort sighed, walking up to the house and deflecting the spells she threw at her. Staring down impassively at the stone, she flicked her wand, causing dark tendrils to swarm around the fragments, slowly knitting them together until it was whole again, with cracks of black defiling the red surface. Pernelle merely watched in horror.
"Avada Kedavra," Voldemort intoned softly, killing the distraught witch before pocketing the stone. It would not hold for long, despite her mastery of the dark arts. A shame that two talented alchemists had to die, but she would have her body. Lady Voldemort would rise once again.
-Break-
"Where's the money? Where's the money? Where's the money?" protesters chanted outside the parliament building. Several stone-faced guardians had shields raised, and a temporary ward had been set up to prevent a charge into the parliament building. Several twitched for their wands as red and green sparks were shot up into the air.
Within the building, president Atin watched from the window for several moments before turning his attention back into the conference room, where what remained of his cabinet had been gathered. Several had already resigned. "Ministers, it has become clear that the situation is no longer tenable."
"Mister president, we still have a majority," the minister for international diplomacy protested. "This will blow over soon enough, we just need to stay firm."
"Oh push off it, Bernard," another minister snarked. "Since the first few months, it's been disaster after disaster. Werewolf attacks, infrastructure failures, and now a corruption scandal. It's a wonder we haven't been lynched!"
As his ministers continued arguing, Atin circled round the large table, staring up at the portrait of Raven, painted in the renaissance imperial style, looking imperiously over them. Bowing his head, he placed it over his chest. "I have failed you, Raven. Forgive me."
His cabinet turned to him confused, as new resolve seemed to fuel the president. "I will take full responsibility for these crises. It has been a pleasure, thank you for staying by my side till the end."
In the silence they gave him, he solemnly left the room, nodding to the two saluting guards, who followed him two steps behind and two steps to either the left or right. Descending down the steps, he nodded to several worried MPs stuck in the building while it was on lockdown, ignoring their demands for answers as he made to walk out the front entrance.
"Sir, the protesters have not been contained, it's safer to remain in the building," one of the guards protested. Atin merely shook his head tiredly, gesturing for the reluctant guard to move to the side.
"Remain here," he ordered his guards, his face reticent of his fear. Continuing outside the building, one of the protesters pointed him out, and soon he was faced by large amounts of boos and jeers. Tapping a sonorous to his throat, he raised his hand for silence.
"People of the BMU, acknowledging the reality of the situation, I am tendering my resignation as president. As my final act, I am calling for an emergency election. The people have made it clear that confidence in my abilities as a leader no longer exists, and I cannot in good conscience continue this administration. Thank you." The crowd seemed confused about how to respond, and there was scattered applause.
Had his reputation fallen so far that they believed he would do anything else? The thought was sobering, and he looked to the sky, muttering a prayer for the country he loved so dearly. Re-entering the building, and ignoring the questions shouted by the few journalists, he wondered out aloud, "Ancestors, have I made you proud?"
Author Note:
We've just surpassed 15 thousand total views! Thank you to each of you who made it this far, it means the world that you enjoyed my story enough to read this far! I've definitely been working hard to integrate your feedback of adding more interesting classes, as well as consolidating Harry's circle around a smaller cast. While I will have to ease the changes in, hopefully you are enjoying the new direction I'm taking, in particular the addition of new POVs from Voldemort, Grindelwald and Dumbledore. While the story still definitely revolves around Harry's journey to power, I know it can get dull at times remaining at Durmstrang, and that many of you want to know more about the antagonists of the story. I know I said that there likely wouldn't be a chapter today, but I was admittedly moved by the support on Reddit from several of you, so despite it being 5am as I am writing this, hopefully you all enjoy! I'm looking at you, Ignotus Redwood!
There isn't much worldbuilding I can do for this chapter without significant spoilers, as I'm definitely going to add more chapters for the trinity of Voldemort, Dumbledore and Grindelwald. I can, however, comment about the problems of the BMU. They are, as hinted, a combination of Harry's influence as well as arising naturally. For instance, the formation of the slums in the outer parts of the city is largely inevitable when a city grows as such a rapid rate. I've always been fascinated (though not fully agreeing) with the concept of broken window policing. I felt that having the outer parts of the capital suffer from neglect, crime and other dangers was an appropriate. Particular inspiration came Magnitogorsk, which was a Soviet city essentially built from nothing to harvest iron in the Urals. At the beginning, workers there had to live in mud huts, if they werelucky. It took years until most were finally housed. It's a fascinating piece of history, given the juxtaposition between problems such as air pollution with 'luxuries' such as free or heavily subsidised movies and other leisure activities as part of the initiative to make it a 'socialist utopia'. I felt that paying homage to this issue would make sense given that the cities were planned out by Soviet Union architects and planners (Raven was the face of the project, but others in the USSR's bureaucracy were very much needed to realise this dream) was appropriate for the story, even if there are obvious differences that prevent this from being a direct parallel. Similar to Shanghai's east side, which was for years a ghost town until it got revitalised, I could definitely see one of Harry's policies being addressing the problems in the peripheries of the BMU's citiesm. We get hints that some problems, such as werewolf facilities breaking down, can be attributed to Harry's actions, but others, such as skyrocketing rents, rising inequality etc. are natural problems that Harry will simply magnify and exploit.
For those curious, I deliberately made Atin a sympathetic character, in part to show the callousness in which Harry discards others in the name of his plan. Keep in mind, Atin was essentially handpicked person for the role. While Atin isn't a 'great' leader, he had a good heart, and in a normal situation would likely have been celebrated. His skills are certainly above average, which is why Harry needs to magnify the crises to force him out. That he surrenders power with dignity is a testiment to his character, and one I hope helps highlight the nuance of politicians: many are genuinely good people believing they are doing the right thing, regardless of whether we agree or disagree with them.
Another aspect highlighted is that of the Raven. Even the president is reverend of Raven, and feels genuine shame for failing to live up to the dreams and ideals he believed Raven held. Of course, we as the reader know the situation is far more complicated than that, though I hope this shows how the legend of Raven has been built. We're going to see gradual propoganda in news articles pumping up this mythos while the government faces deadlock and indecision. This part I took heavy inspiration from the late Weimar period leading up to the Nazi seizure of power. I will say that there's going to be an equivalent to the Reichstag fire, though you'll have to wait to see what form that will take.
As always, if you enjoyed, a follow and favourite would be greatly appreciated. If you loved this, consider sharing it with the community, be it with friends, on discord servers or reddit. If you disliked, feel free to leave some feedback, or just rant. I get it, as a reader I get frustrated at other fanfic writers at times. Everyone experiences a story differently, and sometimes, a part of a story just won't click. Telling me what I need to do better can hopefully aid me in making this and future stories I write better for your enjoyment, so if you're feeling angry, frustrated or disappointed, don't bottle it in, leave something in the comments! Frankly, even if you just want to say hi, leave it in the comments!
As always, until next time, toodles!