Hello, everyone. It hasn't been that long since we last met... (checks calendar) three months ago in Scintillare. See? My update schedule is improving! Still, may your expectations never rise beyond what I can deliver.

I hope you'll enjoy this one. It's the usual brand of stuff.

Summary for this chapter:

Did you think the title meant a Harry Potter First Year AU with Gellert as Harry Potter? Unfortunately, that's not what this is about, because the chapters in this fic are all Danse-Macabre-canon.

This chapter, as requested by a reader, is about what happens after Gellert wakes up to find the Philosopher's Stone by his bed. It mainly involves Gellert doing some self-reflection and realising that he might have raised Hadria wrong. Oh, and possibly having prophetic dreams. But that's a coincidence. Probably.

There aren't any additional warnings required for this chapter, I think. Because it's very slice-of-life, rather like most of my writings, unlike the previous chapter (I still don't know what happened there). But if any of you see anything you think I should warn for, do let me know, thanks.

(Currently un-beta-ed because my beta reader is busy)

Chapter Two: Gellert Grindelwald and the Philosopher's Stone

'"Human being", like "Men working" and "Children playing", is a sentence with a noun, a verb, and the possibility of an imminent disaster.'

— Night Vale podcast

The train pulled up at King's Cross Station. The platform was crowded, as it always was, four times a year. Most of the other parents, family members and guardians were faceless people to Gellert, though he had already taught himself to recognise all the important ones, including the parents and guardians of Hadria's friends. He certainly wasn't going to stay ignorant and thus, vulnerable, even though he had no political plans at the moment and was simply researching magic.

A few seconds after the train had stopped, the children inside began to spill out like ink. As one of those standing close to the train, and with his height as an advantage, it didn't take long for Hadria to come barrelling towards him, squealing all the way.

"Gerwald! Gerwald, guess what?"

Gellert eyed the girl in his arms with fond exasperation, "Well?"

Hadria grinned up at him, before she clambered until she had her arms around his neck, and put her face right next to his. Gellert patiently waited to find out what this great secret was about, with all the tolerance of a person who owns several loud and hyperactive dogs, when she whispered into his ear, "I got you a precious Stone."

Gellert was somewhat bemused. The great secret was a precious stone?

And then he felt her slip a fist-sized object into the inner pocket of his coat, and there was a pulse like a slow beating heart, sending thrums of energy through his robes and it suddenly felt as if there was an extra weight on his chest—not a physical weight, though there certainly was one, but something that felt more horrifying. A strange subtle force. Something like gravity but stronger and more domineering. Like truth. Like life. Like death.

And although Gellert had never in his two lives encountered the famous Philosopher's Stone, he was hit by a certainty that the Thing in his inner pocket was that very object. As if something about its presence expressed TO DEATH I SAY NOT TODAY.

"Gerwald! Gerwald, guess what?"

Gellert eyed the girl in his arms with fond exasperation and some trepidation, "Well?"

Hadria grinned up at him and said cheekily, "It's a secret! But maybe I'll let you know tomorrow."

Her guardian sighed with relief at the difference. He wasn't a Seer, and would be glad to never be one. A direct connection to Fate? No, thank you. It was good to know dreams are just that—Dreams.

And it was good to have her back, hale and hearty.

The morning after Hadria returned from Hogwarts, Gellert found her in the kitchen with the Grim and Kochlein, their kitchen Elf.

They called him the kitchen elf, even though he used to be an ordinary House Elf belonging to one of Gellert's late relatives, and did more than just kitchen-work, but Gellert had found, prior to Hadria's appearance in their household, that Leinen, his then-sole-House-Elf, had rather… average cooking. Apparently, there were some things a House Elf couldn't improve with their magic.

Gellert had been grateful for any decent meal, after having way less than average meals for the past countless years, from his imprisonment to his death, but it didn't take long before he realised he didn't have to settle for 'just decent', when he knew of a House Elf taking care of an empty property under his name that could cook wonders. And so Kochlein was brought in.

"Miss Hadria," Kochlein was saying despairingly-practically keening—as he wrung the white sheet he wore like a himation.

Hadria, Gellert noted, had just emptied a whole bag full of sugar into a large mixing bowl, much to Kochlein's wide-eyed horror. It seemed like he wasn't the only one whose sensibilities were being harassed by Hadria being Hadria that morning.

Gellert turned the cube in his hands. He hadn't tried to remove the Thing inside it yet, though he was fairly certain he could if he tried. It was surreal—frankly preposterous and bizarre and unbelievable—enough that he had a magical alchemical miracle in his lovely little cube; he didn't think he could handle holding it with his bare hands.

"Hadria," he said, trying for stern, but failing, and instead sounded faint and possibly strangled.

"Morning, Gellert!" His dear ward practically chirped, like someone—not him—had raised her on rainbows and cotton candy clouds. She turned to beam at him while stirring vigorously at the mixing bowl even though she could have used magic. (Kochlein had his hands outstretched, like he wanted to snatch the bowl from her but didn't dare to, lest she decide to add a whole packet of salt in or something, just to be contrary.)

"I'm making cookies!" She said, cheerfully showing him the very sugary mixture. Then she caught sight of the Thing in the cube in his hands. "Oh, I see you've got it with you. Do you like it? It wasn't easy getting it, let me tell you. But no worries, I made sure to get permission from the Flamels to keep it. After. Y'know, like when you adopted me. So nobody's gonna be looking for it or anything. It's the surprise I spoke to you about yesterday. So, do you like it?"

Gellert blinked owlishly. He wasn't sure what his ward was implying and he wasn't sure he wanted to be sure. It didn't help that his mind supplied him with a conclusion anyway—that Hadria had stolen, or "borrowed", the Thing from someone, probably Albus Dumbledore himself, before belatedly seeking out the rightful owners of the Thing. While she was supposed to be in school.

It was strange, almost horrifying actually, Gellert found, upon the realisation that he had a child in his care who he had somehow brought up for the past six or so years, before sending said child to Hogwarts of all schools. She could have been sent to Durmstrang. It had been his old school. And it wouldn't have Dumbledore.

But he couldn't really remember what returning home from school during the school break was like anymore, aside from vague recollections of researching magic in between homework and social gatherings. And then he'd gotten expelled.

And that had put some things into perspective. Of course the child he raised would do things she shouldn't be doing in school. Not small troublesome things like pranks—which she did—or borderline illegal things like smuggling contraband—which she also did, if one counted the Lethifold and anything in its storage stomach—but could-get-you-expelled-or-even-arrested things, like stealing a priceless magical artifact that would be disastrous in the wrong hands—Gellert was certain both he and Hadria were very much considered wrong hands—from the Headmaster, the Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock himself.

Gellert should not be allowed to raise children, he concluded. No one in their right mind would allow an infamous Dark-Lord-on-hiatus to raise a child, not even his former subordinates, who knew how bad he was with children. They probably used his name the way some parents would use Bogeymen to frighten their children into obedience.

However, there was no one in their right mind in this household. And a child had been raised. Was in the process of being raised. —(The lightning bolt scar was stark on Hadria's pale forehead)— Of course, not only was Hadria a child, she was the Girl-Who-Lived, the Saviour of the Wizarding World.

He was a terrible influence. The only problem was that he still wasn't certain if that was something to take pride in or not. Hadria would probably approve, but Hadria was biased and compromised.

If Gellert were any ordinary parent, he might say, "Stealing is wrong, even though you claimed to have only 'borrowed' it for a while."

If Gellert were a Slytherin parent (not necessarily someone from the Hogwarts House of Slytherin, but someone with Slytherin traits), he might say, "That was incredibly reckless and dangerous. Dumbledore is not an enemy you want to risk making enemies of. Not yet anyway."

But instead, Gellert sighed and found a chair to settle in, the way cats settle like viscous liquids in a given container, and now there was a chair-and-Gellert, like he had always meant to be part of the furniture. Certainly, he knew he would likely be unable to—pun intended—stand the following conversation.

Once settled, he finally asked the most important question, "Is your Professor Dumbledore aware of your possession of this… artefact."

Hadria watched him like he was something particularly entertaining. There were moments like these, where her sweet children-storybook-pixie-like appearance shifted into something Stranger, something more akin to the unpredictable fey folk of the sídhe. Of course, it didn't last long, but whenever it happened, Gellert couldn't help but wonder if what he raised wasn't a human child but Something Other.

It was disconcerting and admittedly somewhat frightening, but even so, if she were one of the fey, then he was already enthralled—though if the Grim knew of his thoughts, it would have told him there was no such thing, only the very natural emotional attachment formed over time.

"Well," said Hadria blithely, seemingly oblivious to his complicated thoughts. "The Headmaster would have retrieved a Stone from his Mirror by now, and returned it to the Flamels. They would have accepted it and agreed to destroy such a dangerous and valued object. And that would be the end of it."

Gellert had to resist the urge to rub his temple. He had a feeling that at this rate, one of these days, she was going to inform him she had stolen something straight from Gringotts, and he wouldn't be able to say he didn't see it coming.

"Tell me," he said, because he wasn't willing to take any chances. "How did you steal such a thing?" He needed to know, despite her confidence—because of her confidence, for as precocious as she was, she was only eleven-turning-twelve—if there was any chance Dumbledore would suspect his ward of theft.

Hadria cocked her head, still smiling, and passed the mixing bowl to Kochlein who all but snatched it from her in his eagerness to make right the sugar-overload. Meanwhile, she hopped up onto a clean counter top and sat there, swinging her legs.

"Where shall I start?" She wondered, tilting her head the other way. "I suppose… I should start with dear Chnoúdi. Yeah, let's start there."

Hadria grinned suddenly, and Gellert suddenly had a sense of foreboding.

"Yeah," she repeated with a strange light in her eyes. "Let's start with... the Cerberus in the Third Floor Corridor."

The what—?

There were seven obstacles in the route to the Stone—the Cerberus, the Devil's Snare, the Locked Room with Flying Keys, the Chess Game, the Troll, the Potions Riddle and last but not least, the Mirror of Erised.

Hadria explained how she discovered each of these all the way back during Halloween, before going on to explain how she made preparations for increasing the difficulty of the obstacles, ranging from the Self-Fertilising Fire Seeds—

(You've been... hybridising dangerous plants by yourself without supervision?)

—to the floor-wide time-delayed Flagrante Curse. And then, ignoring his incredulous expression, she gleefully explained how she went back again later on because the first time she went, the entire obstacle course hadn't been completely ready. After all, the Stone itself, the main star of the whole thing, had still been with Dumbledore at the time.

So, a second trip had been necessary, and it was then that she also polished the obstacle difficulties, including her additional Potion experiments—

(Your what now?)

—before she went on to swap the real Stone with the fake she created. As the fake wasn't meant to be used, she only needed it to mimic the real Stone's appearance and feeling—that is, the unexpected weight for a crystalline object of its size and seemed to affect an invisible area around it, and the energy that seemingly pulsed inside like a heart.

"It actually took me quite a few tries. Making it look like the Stone was easy. I also managed to replicate the energy in it with the feathers from a Hou-ou's wings—you know, from the last time we were in Japan. The problem was making it feel like it's got extra weight because it's not just… dense." Here, she tried to use her hands to gesticulate. "It's as if it has a much larger size than it looks. The weight isn't just from the stone but the air around it."

Gellert wondered if he should ask how she knew what the Philosopher's Stone felt like, since, to his knowledge, the first time she would have encountered the Stone was when she was swapping it with her fake.

(He wondered if he should ask her, on the night you stole it, did you ever, just for a second, consider giving me the Stone at King's Cross Station and slipping it into my pocket.)

"Scáth helped to judge. He was all for being able to finally send the Flamels on, actually," Hadria added, as if she knew what he was thinking, because of course a Grim would know what an artefact used to cheat Death would feel like. "In the end, he was the one who suggested using the crushed bones of a Bashe, which turned out to be rather effective."

"Right," said Gellert, because he didn't know what else he should say. He wanted to scold her for conducting dangerous experiments with plants and potions, but he was once again reminded of all the potential illegal experimentations he did in his youth—he really wasn't a good role model, now was he? Even though, in his defence, she hadn't been around to witness his youth—so he took a deep breath and realised it was better to compromise.

"I'm going to have to ask, this—experimenting with plants and potions for criminal purposes—is this going to become a habit?"

It probably said something when instead of giving a straight answer or even a hesitant one, his ward looked like she was seriously considering his question… Just what kind of future considerations could she be contemplating about? And it got worse when she began to move her fingers in a manner that suggested that she was counting something—

Then she finally said, "Oh, actually. Probably not. At least, I don't think I'll need strange hybrid plants or potions for those." Without elaborating on what 'those' referred to.

If Gellert were to hazard a guess, he'd say she meant illegal activities. More illegal activities that his ward just admitted to be planning at the age of eleven. Which was frankly concerning, since even he didn't try anything remotely unauthorised—by Durmstrang standards—until he was thirteen.

"Well, for future reference, as your guardian, I would like to be informed if you were planning any thefts or break-ins or meddling with forbidden magics or what have you. And any preparations for such events should be done under supervision of either a trustworthy adult or myself. And Scáth does not count as supervision."

Unexpectedly, Hadria acquiesced rather easily. "After all, this time was an exception since I meant for it to be a surprise for you."

"Duly noted," Gellert responded dryly. "And experiments for… pranks or anything of a less serious nature, please, at least, conduct them in the presence of a more experienced senior."

Hadria raised her hand. "Do the Twins count as experienced seniors?"

Gellert wanted to say no, but he had been made aware of the Weasley twins' exploits during that school year as well as previous years, so he reluctantly said, "Yes." Even though he knew another parent might have disagreed.

But then, another parent might have been utterly horrified by the idea that their child had likely orchestrated the very unfortunate and gruesome death of their own Professor.

He surveyed the raven-haired girl who had already dashed off, attention once again returning to her baking endeavour of the morning, completely carefree and pleased with her accomplishments and their agreement regarding her experimentations.

Was she aware? Did she know? Because if he were correct in his calculations, the intended target of these traps wouldn't be deterred even with the alterations she made. And by forcing their way through the obstacles she upgraded, it was highly likely the thief would have suffered a lot before coming to a terribly grisly end. That there happened to be a dead Professor at the end of their school year, cremated without any proper funeral, could not possibly be a coincidence.

Honestly, Gellert wasn't surprised the school had decided not to show the students the corpse—not even covered up—because then there would bring up too many questions that the supposedly safe school couldn't afford to have.

But if Hadria was indeed ignorant, he wasn't about to enlighten her. No need for her to feel any unnecessary guilt or pangs of conscience for acting against a potential threat. Particularly not when the subject in question had chosen to do what he did, and choices made always come with their respective consequences.

Gellert could only hope this wouldn't become a common occurrence, and if it was, maybe he should reconsider the benefits of being a Seer if it meant being able to keep a better eye on her. All the same, if his ward was going to go down the route of a Dark mage, he really would prefer for it to happen outside of Dumbledore's surveillance and range of influence.

Should he have sent her to Durmstrang after all?

- Finis -

Some notes for clarification

About Gellert Grindelwald

For those who are unaware or have forgotten, this is a reminder that all Danse-Macabre-related fics are NOT Fantastic Beast movies canon. In other words, whatever happened in those movies happens in an alternate universe that has no contact with this one. Thus, Gellert Grindelwald isn't actually a Seer. He never was, and I'd like to say he never will be, but in truth, that remains to be seen, depending on how things develop. Even if he does eventually awaken Seer abilities, I can safely say that it will not be the likes of Trelawney or FB-canon-Grindelwald.

About the Philosopher's Stone

As a phenomenal magical object that basically allows you to avoid Death, as something that pushes the limits of magic, I headcanon that although to ordinary folk (both Muggles and Wizarding) it just feels like a maybe heavier than expected shiny rock, to those who are more magically sensitive, like Dumbledore, it would feel more than just that.

And to a select few, like the Flamels who were its creators, and those who have an acquaintance with Death, like Hadria and Gellert, it would feel a lot more than just that. It would be much harder to fool Hadria or Gellert, or even Tom actually, even with a well-made fake.

(And to those such as Scáth the Grim, well, you couldn't possibly fool them with a fake, ever).

About Hou-ou

According to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (the textbook, not the movie), Phoenixes are native to Greece, Egypt, India and China. Wiki tells me that this may be a reference to other mythical birds of these regions' cultures that are similar to the Phoenix. Meanwhile, the Japanese phoenix, known as the Hoo-hoo in the Potterverse (or Hou-ou as I prefer to spell it) is treated as a different bird even though it shares the same origins as the Chinese phoenix.

I have thus decided to separate all of them. Any mention of Phoenix will be limited to the type from Greece. The Hou-ou I speak of will be based on the East Asian phoenixes. I chose to use the Japanese word instead of the Chinese one for easier reference since it already exists in the Potterverse and there's also a Pokemon based on it with a similar name.

However, do note that mixing of names might occur depending on region and context. For example, Sc á th the Grim has been called a Tiangou (literally: Heaven Dog) before. He's not actually a Tiangou , and he's not actually a Church Grim either, but he looks like he could be one, so it'll happen. So there'll be people calling a Hou-ou a phoenix, because that's the bird they know, while someone else might call it something else based on a bird in their culture.

About the Bashe and Chinese dragons

I'll start by saying that the Chinese Fireball is a Western dragon. It looks like a western dragon and behaves like a western dragon. However, in order to reconcile this with the fact that it's called Chinese Fireball and the fact that it's "native" to China, I will headcanon that the majority of Chinese Fireballs are found in China.

Probably sometime very long ago, they migrated to China or maybe someone smuggled some to China and the population there flourished while they became less commonly found (not quite endangered yet) in Europe, where it was once simply known as "red dragon" or something. It's been so long that people call it Chinese Fireball now.

Asian dragons are as different from Western dragons as snakes are from lizards. But they're also intelligent, very strong, and have the same number of Xs in their danger classification. As for the Bashe, it's hard to say if it's considered a snake or a dragon, but in this story I will consider it as a close relative of Asian dragons.

I'm still working on how to start the next arc of Danse Macabre. In the meantime, feel free to send me requests (see the summary of this fic) and I might entertain some of them in my free time.

In addition, while I will be posting a proper announcement in the main fic about this, but just for a heads up, I will be separating the different arcs of Danse Macabre, so post-Hogwarts and Year One will be one fic, Year Two and Three will be another fic. I will be putting them into one series, so you guys can just subscribe to the series instead of the individual fics for convenience.