Lord Grindelwald,

I have taken this opportunity to write, hoping that it finds you in good health. I would have you know that it was I who supported your initial release from prison for the purpose of education at Hogwarts. As it now stands, I find myself in similar position and would have you return the favour, as one might say you are indebted to me. After all, had I not intervened it would be doubtful that Dumbledore could have secured the support of the Board, even before the consideration of the Minister for Magic.

I pray that we can see eye to eye on this matter, and on future issues upon which we may share similar values. You might find the influence of my house of great assistance in achieving your ambitions.

Needless to say, my assistance is conditional on your assistance in the current circumstance.

Lord Malfoy

(seal of the Noble House of Malfoy.)

The letter had at least been the source of a good laugh between the two elderly wizards. It had been delivered by a discrete owl in the early hours of the morning after the first round of interrogating the captured Voldemort. Grindelwald had been present, disguised as his own clumsy apprentice, much to the amusement of the British aurors, while the real Tonks had hurried back to her hospitalized tutor once again.

It was still only a day after Harry had defeated his nemesis at the end of the Triwizard Tournament, the following press conference and the associated acceptance (and subsequent elevation) of Grindelwald in society. The fake windows of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement were glowing in an imitation of a cloudy sun-dawn, creating an illusion of everything starting from a blank page. When Albus entered, the light gilded his beard, as if it were the same shade as Gellert's hair had once been.

They didn't have much time to talk in private the day before, and there was so much to catch up with. Yet the two wizards had both been unable to resist when Grindelwald had found a pile of letters and a stack of parchment at breakfast.

"Joyful paperwork, I had to face it the first time too," Albus commented, indicating the rest of the pile. "In my experience, that's always created in the aftermath of the defeat of a dark wizard."

The Austrian grimly nodded. He almost hoped that his own defeat had caused more just because it would have served to old coot right for taking his wand and putting him in prison.

But that was the past; he had a feeling the message from the old Malfoy would help change the topic and move on. He wasn't in Nurmengard anymore.

He chucked the letter on top of the pile and watched as those white brows furrowed. Eventually the other wizard's stoic expression cracked into a smile.

'So he's nervous.' Albus finally said and Gellert snorted.

'Of course he is. He's practically begging.'

'Blackmailing.' Albus corrected and Gellert snorted. 'Unless you don't consider him a threat.'

Grindelwald didn't reply at first, he only shot a disdainful look. Dumbledore settled in his seat, still waiting for a verbal answer. Eventually, the dark wizard spoke, 'Have I told you when he was afraid he'd be outduelled by his son, of all people?'

This again made Dumbledore chuckle. It was a well known fact among the faculty that Draco had shown little aptitude for duelling face to face, although like the rest of his family, he enjoyed situations when the opponent wasn't expected to fight back.

'And what are you planning to do?' He finally asked and Gellert tapped his rowan wand to his lips as he thought.

'I'd make the best of his offer.' He decided, and continued with sharing a tiny segment of his plans. Albus certainly would have caught a full lie, they knew each other too well. 'Draco has the potential to be the one to finally lead the way in changing the pureblood philosophy but I advice you against making him vengeful. Forgiveness must be the way of the future if wizardkind is to survive.' Dumbledore looked at him sharply.

'You're singing a very different tune.'

'I always promoted our unity, I just didn't know how to get it.' He argued, conjuring a tea set and an empty plate. A moment later an elf popped in to fill the containers and he politely poured a cup for his old friend first – they were in what currently functioned as his own office, after all.

'I see you've worked out how to manipulate the elves. Did this work in Hogwarts too?'

Gellert grinned across at him. His old friend would have expected nothing less. For a moment they were both silent as they drank the tea.

'So how will you help Malfoy?' The older wizard finally asked.

'He will get a chance to prove his worth to the wizarding society.'

To Dumbledore, those words rang threateningly. Once again glad that he hadn't quit neither his position as the Chief Warlock despite Fudge irritating the life out of him, nor the job as Supreme Mugwump despite never having the patience for international affairs, he settled even more comfortably in the guest armchair, making clear that he wasn't going to leave. Grindelwald could play host as much as he wanted, he would not be able to throw the leader of both the Wizengamot and the ICW out of this room.

The Death Eater arrived less than ten minutes later. Gellert had been spelling miniature icebergs in the tea to kill some time, and when the pot was almost frozen over, he picked up a parchment he had already been working on, often looking at Dumbledore, as if wondering how his written words would be taken. Other times he was writing fluently, as if he had thought out those words long before.

When he stepped into the room, Malfoy seemed just as exhausted as would be expected of the death eater Voldemort had named as the fallen keeper of the diary. He had dark shadows under his eyes but was as immaculately dressed as always. The exchange of pleasantries between the two darker wizards took a moment, but did much to set the atmosphere of the discussion. Albus and his ilk had never understood the subtleties of these old formalities when it came to negotiations. He preferred to either avoid contact at all, or just go in with his wand raised. But this time his presence was needed, and not only because the pair of extra ears made Lucius even more uncomfortable.

The fact that these two had apparently been having tea together turned the death eater's expectations upside down. And, since his audience was already disappointed that he wasn't going to challenge Dumbledore for a rematch, Grindelwald was acting exceedingly friendly towards his defeater, just to rile Malfoy further.

"Since you cannot deny having had the diary," he began, tea cup in his wand hand, "I suggest you have wanted to ensure its destruction without making it obvious that it came from you. Clearly, you couldn't just put it in an envelope and owl it to the curse-breakers, the Ministry would have traced it back to you, and that's what you wanted to avoid."

"That's exactly what happened," Malfoy breathed.

"And you had to know it wouldn't survive in a school guarded by the one who defeated me," Grindelwald continued, giving a small bow towards the headmaster mid-sentence. Albus squirmed in his seat, having recognized how fake that gesture of respect was.

"I had faith in Albus Dumbledore," the youngest of the three managed.

The wizard in question didn't seem to appreciate the unwillingly given praise, although he could see his adversary's eyes glowing with suppressed laughter. There was a resemblance to the Weasley twins when their prank was already put in motion.

To someone who'd just met him for the first time in his life, however, the old Grindelwald appeared just as sincere and majestic as he had been in his prime, and Dumbledore couldn't help but note how well it suited him. The hauteur that came with this, maybe not so much, but without it, the man in the other armchair wouldn't have been Gellert Grindelwald.

"As the one who had eventually captured the diary, I can back up your claim," the great dark wizard nodded in a calm voice. But before the death eater could have sighed in relief, he continued, "Although, on the other hand, young Draco would doubtlessly benefit from a temporary lack of your influence."

"What?"

"Gellert?!"

The two British wizards had lost their composure in the exact same moment. Grindelwald suppressed yet another satisfied smile.

"What do you want my son for? He's my heir, not a pawn of yours!"

"Would you have said this in the face of, what name did he make up for himself... Flight-From-Death? We both know you wouldn't have." A sip from his cold tea later, he continued, "He was a few drops of blood short from returning to a functional body. Harry's spell stood in his way, however."

The death eater's shoulders slumped even more, but he wasn't willing to say anything positive about Harry Potter.

"A spell you taught Harry," Dumbledore finally managed. "Cedric told me about a wall of blue flames. I might have heard about it before."

"Brother, I couldn't leave him defenceless."

During their talk (not missing the 'Brother' addressing) Lucius collected himself. "Draco holds you at a very high esteem. Half his walls are covered in quotes from you... How would he react if he heard you refused to back up his family?"

Dumbledore's thoughts darkened as he considered the possible outcomes. He was fully aware that a lie or two wouldn't have been far from his former friend. Because of the oaths he had to swear, 'Wohl' couldn't lie to a student, but there was a huge loophole: Gellert wasn't a teacher anymore.

But Grindelwald plainly mocked the question, in Draco's tone, no less. "Mein Sohn wird davon hören!" he stated in the perfect imitation of the young pureblood. "See, that's exactly why I believe he would benefit from your absence."

Albus would have loved the show, how the most important person in his life wasn't letting Lucius Malfoy off the hook, but he had a foreboding feeling that Grindelwald wanted something from the pureblood that he wouldn't necessarily like. He loved the man, but was well aware of his talent for causing lasting harm.

Meanwhile, Lucius Malfoy didn't even seem to understand what was wrong with a pure family's keeping together. "I am one of the most influential wizards in Britain," he stated. "The leader of the Board of Hogwarts Governors, practically, the boss of your... FRIEND!"

"Really," Dumbledore nodded. "He once threatened me because I wouldn't remove the copy of The Tales of Beedle the Bard from the school library."

"He suggested removing Beedle the Bard," the dark wizard echoed, threateningly slowly, as if weighting the crime he had been told. Malfoy paled at the tone, not having a faint idea what might have triggered it.

"I have killed for MUCH less," and all those present in the room were more than aware of the truth in that statement. That blue and that brown eye seemed to be piercing the relatively young wizard, separately, but two at the time. The death eater averted his gaze, instead staring at the chest of the dark wizard, at the pendant he'd been wearing once again. Lucius Malfoy had a feeling his petty letter from three years before could be the end of him, but he still didn't understand what Gindelwald could have possibly found offensive in upholding blood purity.

"At least Draco inherited his mother's intelligence," the aged Austrian wizard noted, returning to the previous topic and subtly calling Malfoy the fool he'd made out of himself. Miserably, the death eater blinked at the headmaster – however, Dumbledore's participation in the negotiation over the boy's fate seemed to have been exhausted in an agreeing nod. What Malfoy couldn't see were old fingers tightening their grip on the Elder Wand, because Grindelwald's not looking at his former opponent was screaming of an imminent attack. Lucius Malfoy may have not noticed, but he was being used as a distraction.

"You can still be of some use, Mr Malfoy," the former Professor Wohl finally stated. He must have decided that the British pureblood had been softened enough already. "While my current accomodation here with the aurors is temporary, I happen to know from a reliable source that my homeland is unwilling to take me back. As it stands, I'm without a permanent place to stay, while Hogwarts has been for long without acceptable History education."

"History?" Dumbledore stared, wand falling back into the depths of his pocket. No wand would give an adequate reply to this move.

'Wohl' touched his tracker pendant. "I'm more than willing to accept the same restrictions as before. I will support your Ministry with my knowledge and strength, but I want to be able to call Hogwarts castle and grounds my home. I swear I will attempt no escape and would willingly return within a day, should I, for any reason, leave."

"As the headmaster of Hogwarts, I cannot..."

"As the leader of the Board, I accept and support your terms!" Malfoy hastily claimed. "In exchange of your help for both myself and for the Ministry, of course..."

"It appears like we've come to an agreement."

"History?!" a shocked Dumbledore repeated.

"Yes, headmaster." In aplomb, the freshly reinstated teacher handed over the sheet of parchment he'd been working on before Malfoy's arrival. "You can't even tell me I'm late with the compendium, this time."

Now it was Albus looking miserably at the death eater, as if begging for his veto. Hogwarts already had a History of Magic teacher, maybe not as captivating as Grindelwald, but certainly harmless! Wasn't a father inclined to priorize his son's unbiased education?

He refused to take a look at that parchment. He loved Gellert, yes, but he also loved his school. And how did Grindelwald intend to get to the castle, with his Abernathy Wohl alias exposed, the Fidelius spell well beyond repair? Knowing him, he'd perhaps just march in, head held high...

"A war criminal won't be pardoned," Gellert now continued in a much softer voice. "I don't expect forgiveness from anybody. Much less, in a school that promotes the emancipation of muggleborn and half-breed students. But this has never been about what I deserve." He straightened in the armchair, tall and energetic as he had always been. His voice rose again and echoed in the Ministry-assigned room. "The question is what I have to offer. I have already sworn to protect and educate the students to the best of my knowledge and abilities, but I will repeat that oath in front of the entire Board if that's required. I will swear unconditional obedience to the headmaster, the Heads of all four Houses, to the matron and the librarian. I agree to any security measure the aforementioned would ever deem necessary. Allow me to fill the job, let me teach History of Magic, and I swear I will never let Hogwarts down!"

Speechless, Dumbledore nodded in an informal acceptance of the oath, hope and dread mixing in his cerulean blue eyes.

Lucius Malfoy bowed reverently, and wished them both a relaxing summer before another school year would start.