Hermione couldn't decide whether to be sad or excited. She'd only gotten to spend a week in the muggle world, so she'd seen very little of her parents and only slightly more of Gerard. He'd let her help in his spell crafting, which had been the most interesting thing she'd done all year. She was far beyond her depth, so she had realistically been very little help but she'd appreciated that he'd taken the time to show her everything anyway. He'd even put his wards aside to help her develop a spell to dictate a page of text which she just knew would be brilliant when she was writing homework.
She'd tried her hardest to persuade him to join the order, giving him Dumbledore's floo address and letting him know how to contact him if he changed his mind. She just knew that Gerard was far more powerful that he pretended to be, even though she'd never actually seen him use his wand and she was determined to get him fighting. She just couldn't understand why he would just sit back and let Voldemort rule.
Of course, he had always hated muggles... no, not hated, just scorned. As if they were servants or even worse, slaves but he didn't seem to have anything against Muggleborns. He had mellowed since she'd begun her campaign to introduce him to all the wonderful things that muggles had developed. He still seemed to think of muggles as lesser, or maybe other, but he admitted that they had their uses and were certainly a foe to be reckoned with.
He'd only given her vague answers, seeming to want to refuse and hide for the war but not want to tell her. She hadn't pegged him as a coward but by the time Monday came and she was due to leave, she forced her disapproval behind her and said goodbye to him all the same.
Mr Weasley then picked her up that afternoon and flood her to the new Order of the Phoenix headquarters. The house was gloomy, with dark green walls black floors. Emerald drapes and pale, greenish-yellow lights made the place seem as though light had never touched it. Darker patches on the walls indicated where portraits and decorations had been removed, and Mr. Weasley whispered for her to be quiet as they snuck down the hall and into the kitchen at the far end.
The kitchen was very different – vibrant and full of life. The black tiles sparkled merrily in the light from the fire and several bright, warm lamps. A wrought iron chandelier banished every shadow, presumably so that one could always see what they were doing. A table of well loved pine took centre stage, although she presumed it worked like the Hogwarts tables and mirrored one in a fancy dining room upstairs. Surrounding this, waiting for her so that they could have dinner was the entire Weasley clan; their bubbly personalities doing more to lighten the room that candles ever could. Professor Lupin helped Molly in front of a massive coal fired stove, stirring a delicious smelling pot as the witch tossed in carrots and onions.
A young witch with pink hair chatted animatedly with the real Mad-eye Moody, seemingly unbothered that she only got grunts in reply. The Weasley children leapt up to wrap her in hugs when she arrived, the twins being ordered upstairs to put away her trunk so that everyone else could say hello to her too.
Eventually, Moody banged his staff against the floor to get everyone's attention, ordering them to sit down to that Molly could serve up dinner and the eager crowd obeyed. She was certain the table grew as each person sat down because there was no way it should have been able to seat this many people and still have elbow room.
'Who's the spare seat for?' She whispered to Ron and he looked up at the head of the table where a place had been laid but was not being used.
'Professor Dumbledore. Mum always lays him a place even though he never stays for dinner.' The redhead answered and Hermione nodded.
She tucked into the spaghetti that was heaped onto her plate eagerly, there was nobody who could cook like Molly Weasley. Then the door opened and all movement ceased as Dumbledore stepped into the room, followed by none other than Gerard. Hermione gasped, and her eye's met her friend's across the room. He smiled but held his finger to his lips, indicating that she be quiet as Dumbledore introduced him.
'Excellent, we're just in time for dinner. I'd like to introduce you to an old friend of mine who has taken... offence with Voldemort. He's offered to lend his wand and experience to help us.' Dumbledore said as Molly bustled to the draws to fetch another place, setting it into the space that suddenly seemed obvious next to Lupin at the head of the table.
Hermione just looked between the two in confusion; Gerard had never told her that he was friends with Dumbledore. In fact, he didn't look old enough to have associated much with the wizard at all.
'Grindelwald.' Mad-eye growled suddenly and every conversation that had been just about to begin, froze. Gerard looked at him mildly, although Hermione could have sworn she saw annoyance twitch in his mismatched eyes.
'Can I help you?' Gerard asked, as though he didn't quite understand what the auror had said but Hermione too was now beginning to put together the dots and betrayal shot through her as she realised that Gerard was not Gerard at all. Had she been played? Was he using her as a way to get to Dumbledore? She ran back through their meetings in her head, trying to find any suggestion that their friendship was just a fake.
'Gellert Grindelwald?' Molly Weasley asked, as if she wanted to take back the pasta and sauce that she'd just heaped onto his plate.
'Yes?' Gerard-Gellert seemed to be slightly annoyed as he looked up at the witch and Hermione reached for her wand, desperate to come up with some way to stop him cursing her. She needn't have worried though, the wizard did nothing.
Dumbledore huffed slightly into his pasta and Gerard's eyes snapped to him.
'Shut up Albus.' He snapped, but there was humour in his tone and the headmaster chuckled.
'I believe they would stop asking you if you introduced yourself properly.'
'That's your job.'
'Very well, this is indeed Gellert Grindelwald. I'm sure he'll be happy to answer any questions you may have.' The headmaster's eyes twinkled, as Grindelwald's threatened anyone who dared ask him anything.
Hermione waited until after dinner to confront him, waiting in the hallway. She was surprised when she didn't have to track him down and he came to her instead. He gestured for her to follow him into one of the rooms and she hesitated for two reasons. The first was that she'd been explicitly warned not to go in any room other than the kitchen or bedroom until they'd been cleared of dark objects, the second was that she was nervous to be alone with the dark wizard.
She looked between the dark doorway and the equally dark wizard holding it open for her before finally making her decision. If he wanted to hurt her he already would have, he'd had plenty of opportunities. Not to mention he could probably defend them from anything dangerous in there better than Molly Weasley ever could.
She went into the dark doorway, stopping just inside the doorway and waiting for the adult wizard to light the room. He flicked his wand – one that she could have sworn she'd seen Dumbledore use before, and the lamps flared to life, lighting what might have once been a formal drawing room. It had windows opening out onto the street in front but the glass was so dirty that the single streetlamp on the opposite side of the road was little more than a pale blur. Green wallpaper covered the walls, decorated by golden dragons and oriental witches dancing between fronds of delicately painted flowers. The furniture was a matching set of polished black curvaceous chairs and a couple of dressers against the wall. Golden dragons once more curled between delicate mother of pearl lilies and their ivory eyes seemed to follow the unusual pair as they took a seat on the embroidered green silk settees. Gerard-Gellert stabbed the wand towards the fireplace and a fire blazed to life on the already laid wood, crackling merrily in a way that didn't suit the room.
'Before you start...' The wizard said as Hermione was still gathering her thoughts, 'I introduced myself to you because you were a source of information that was easy to get to but if I didn't find you an interesting, intelligent person we never would have done more than meet in the park each morning.'
He was being truthful, but then she was hardly experienced enough to know when someone was lying to her. At least, someone of Grindelwald's calibre.
'Why did you break out?' She asked, hoping that would give her some insight into the role he planned for her to play. She was surprised when he laughed, an honest, jolly sound that was almost infectious.
'Because my cell was mind-numbingly boring.' He answered and once again Hermione was so convinced by the truthfulness that rang in his words that she found herself doubting him.
'Why are you fighting for the order? I would have thought You-Know-Who was closer to your agenda.'
'Because you asked me to.' He was being too honest again; she raised her eyebrows at him. 'I had nothing against muggleborns, admittedly most of my followers were pureblood but that was coincidental; there were more purebloods than muggleborns in those days.'
'So what did you believe? The history books said you killed muggleborns.' She asked and he stared into the fire as he answered.
'I believed that muggles were a lesser species, that by following the statute of secrecy we were upsetting the natural order of the world. Muggleborns are muggles that magic has judged worthy of ascension to wizardkind and to say otherwise is to doubt magic. I did kill muggleborns of course, but I have killed as many, if not more purebloods and halfbloods.' He explained, then he turned to look at her, fixing her with those mismatched eyes. 'I intended to remain safely hidden, as I said, I did not escape Nurmengard to participate in any more wars but you asked me to, so I spoke to Albus.'
Hermione blinked owlishly at him.
'I believe it is your bedtime, Hermione. I'll see you in the morning.' It was a clear dismissal, and with much to ponder she obediently scurried from the room.