She had been sitting there for hours, her back against the tree and Gellert's head cushioned on her crossed legs. Her bum hurt, her back hurt and the cut on her face throbbed despite the healing charm Professor Dumbledore had used. Grindelwald had finally fallen still about an hour ago, perhaps sleeping off the agony.

Remorse. That's what Dumbledore had diagnosed it as. Not true, complete remorse but the first stage of it. Only he would be able to tell them what, at that seemingly innocent breakfast had triggered it and the chances were he never would. That he had managed to feel it at all was incredible, yet terrible. To have seen someone in so much pain... Hermione hoped to never witness it again.

She had followed him when he left, the slightly panicked look in his eyes raising her alarm. She'd caught up just as the willow fell closed behind him, blood smeared on the branches. She had followed the muggle first aid training for a seizure, packing her robe beneath his head and running for Professor Dumbledore.

Then she'd sat here, missing lessons, for hours on end, gently stroking Gellert's hair, letting him grip desperately onto her arm as his back arched and pained whimpers escaped him. She held the silencing charm around the willow, a warming charm closer to them, the snow still melting over the ground enough of a deterrent to curious students during break to keep the usually popular space empty.

It would be lunch in a couple of minutes, she hoped Dumbledore would come again. Would she even get lunch? Her stomach growled loudly and she shifted uncomfortably, feeling awful for complaining about her hunger when Gellert had just been through so much worse.

True remorse; the Headmaster had told her it was a fracture in his soul repairing itself. An incredible thing to witness, rare and almost impossible to achieve, what Gellert was going through was the first stage of such a thing. She didn't want Gellert to feel such remorse if this had been the first stage, she could only imagine the rest. It was a selfish thought; she was by no means unaware of his crimes having studied them briefly in class. She knew there were entire books on the subject, monuments to his victims, headline after headline of his attacks across the world. Yet she found herself unable to wish the pain on him.

She shuffled again, trying to stop a root digging in to her coccyx. Gellert moaned, her eyes jumping to his as they flickered open.

'Hermione?' He asked uncertainly and she smiled down at him.

'Yes, are you alright?'

'Are you?' He asked insistently, sitting up with obvious effort. He reached out, and she winced as he touched the cut on her cheek.

'Dumbledore said your soul was beginning to heal.' She told him, to take attention off the injury. He froze, looking at her in disbelief. 'You dropped this over there.' She told him, lifting his strange wand from the safe place she'd left it atop her bag. She'd spent a while looking at it while he was unconscious – it was a very powerful wand, she could feel it probing her magic almost like a living thing; ancient and terrible, a wand that had committed many crimes and performed the darkest of magic. The design was eerie, looking like a long finger bone, with the pale knuckles in the wood. She wanted nothing more than to snap it and hide the pieces where they would never be found.

Gellert took it back from her, and then touched the tip to the cut that had scabbed on his hand, healing it into yet another scar, layered atop the many already there. Then he did the same to the cut on her cheek and she fidgeted as it itched under his spell.

'How long?' He asked, pulling himself to his feet far sooner than she would have recommended. She jumped up, letting grab her shoulder as he swayed.

'A couple of hours, 4 or so.' She answered, he winced, a hand flying to his chest and she almost went to catch him. The wizard just winced and forced himself to stand fully, taking a first step cautiously, wavering, then another more confidently. She realised suddenly that he was murmuring lowly, casting a string of enchantments under his breath whose purpose she could only guess. Finally he waved his wand over her and a flurry of his metallic, volcanic scented magic rearranged her hair and robes into a semblance of neatness. The same for himself and his robes were neatly repaired and the mud mysteriously vanished. He strode out into the grounds.

Hermione hurried after him, handing him his bag as he strode confidently towards the castle. It was very impressive, she decided as she hurried to keep up with him, how less than five minutes after he regained consciousness, he looked immaculate and was striding away on some mission. His robes even had a crease down the sleeve.

She followed him through the deserted halls, their footsteps ringing on the stone. Usually she would have been quieter...

Ah, that's why.

Umbridge stepped out in front of them, a toad like grin spreading across her face as she saw who was coming.

'Mr. Abernathy!' She giggled, 'What has Miss. Granger done now?'

Gellert didn't even pause, drawing his wand and confounding her. The spell was so powerful it knocked her backwards, her body hitting the wall with a thud. Hermione gasped, hurrying to catch up.

'Gellert, we just attacked a teacher!' She gasped. He looked at her mildly.

'And? Ah yes, obliviate.' He flicked the wand in the direction of the collapsed teacher. Hermione only had time to gape like a fish before he was striding off again. She looked briefly at the crumpled form before quickly hurrying after Grindelwald again.

They arrived at Dumbledore's office just as the bell rang for lunch. As they spiralled upwards on the staircase, the corridors filled with people.

Gellert didn't knock. He just threw the door open and strode inside. Dumbledore was meeting with someone dressed in the smart robes of a ministry official. Gellert waved his wand and the official collapsed where he stood. Professor Dumbledore flicked his hand and an armchair scooted across the room the catch the man before he could hit the hard floor.

'You've recovered. Excellent.' Dumbledore said. 'Shall I draw you up a chair.'

For a moment it looked like Gellert would refuse, but he seemed to relent and Dumbledore swished his wand. Two plump armchairs appeared out of thin air and Gellert dropped into one, although he didn't relax. Dumbledore stood and glided around the desk. Hermione stopped as he lifted her chin, inspecting the cut.

'You've done a good job healing it.' He commented as an aside to Grindelwald.

'Would I do anything else?' He sneered in response and Dumbledore sighed.

The headmaster looked older than she had ever realised and he seemed to almost deflate as he looked Grindelwald over.

'You're experiencing remorse.' Dumbledore finally commented.

'Unintentionally.' The dark wizard sneered. There was an animosity there, she realised, one that seemed to fox her as much as Dumbledore.

'Do you know what triggered it?'

'Obviously.' He snapped. 'What are you teaching her in your private lessons?'

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't realised Gellert was unaware of the lessons – or lesson. She'd only had one, and it had been an incredible experience. Professor Dumbledore was a genius and he'd gently guided her through the first steps of Occlumency, all while chatting about Abbot's law of summoning and how it interacted with warding.

'Hermione?' Dumbledore passed the batten to her. She swallowed under the glare Gellert turned on her.

'We... er... we talked about the interaction between Abbot's law of summoning and warding.' She managed, glancing up at Dumbledore for support. He nodded encouragingly. 'We also did a bit of occlumency. He wants me to be able to give Harry some pointers.' She trailed off uncertainly.

Gellert's glare had softened slightly but the burn in those mismatched eyes was still something she never wanted directed at her again.

'Why don't you show him what you learned?' the Headmaster proposed and Hermione was relieved to see Gellert's gaze snap away from her. 'I believe you're rather an expert on Abbot's interaction with warding. There might be something you can add to the conversation.'

'I am lucky.' He said sharply.

'Very lucky indeed, does she know the story?' Hermione looked between the two powerful wizards, unsure exactly how her lessons and their discussions had become a point of contest between them.

'Have you told her?' There was a subtle emphasis on the "you" that sounded somewhat accusatory. Were they fighting over who told her stories? Or, Hermione realised, were they fighting over whether she heard the stories at all.

'I have done a little research, perhaps it is a story I already know?' She said tentatively. Both wizards jerked towards her as though they had forgotten she was there.

'Fine. Most wards are tuned to let non-magical items through, otherwise things like snow, rain and wind would weaken it like a genuine assault. Likewise, most wards let magic out so that those inside can defend themselves. I summoned a plane, released it before it crossed the wards and it impacted on the ward stone of the castle, collapsing the wards.' Gellert snapped at her, then he turned to Dumbledore. 'happy?'

'I think you might find Miss Granger a little more aware than you had previously anticipated.' Dumbledore said mildly.

'I'll teach her.' The dark wizard finally said and Dumbledore steepled his fingers.

'If you must. I rather thought she might like to know what she's getting in to from an unbiased party.'

'You are far from unbiased.'

'There are no unbiased parties where you are concerned.' Both wizards had risen, shouting at each other across the desk. Hermione had never heard of Professor Dumbledore losing his calm before but it seemed Gellert riled him in a way nothing else could. 'You are a criminal, a monster, a dark wizard. The girl must know who you are or would you trick her like you did me.'

'I did no such thing. You followed me willingly!'

'I never knew who you were, what you had already done, if I had I would never have made that choice.' Dumbledore was anger to Gellert's scorn, heat to Grindelwald's fire, it was easy to understand how the Gryffindor could believe that Gellert had no emotions. It wouldn't be long now before one of them drew her wand, over her, for a reason she still didn't truly understand.

'Excuse me?' She asked, interrupting the headmaster. 'Would you ask me what I think?'

The glare levelled at her from both directions was like standing between two nuclear warheads.

'I appreciate the lessons, perhaps you could both teach me and perhaps I could decide on a story each time, you are right Professor, it is very important to understand both sides of the story, which I hope you can appreciate Gellert.'

Both wizards seemed to consider the possibility, before Albus sighed in resignation.

'Perhaps we might be able to suggest one for you to hear, in truth and in full. There are many that are not easy to find.'

'Does that suit you, Gellert?' she demanded, hands on hips and feeling awfully like Mrs. Weasley.

'Very well. Monday at six.'

What followed was a negotiation of times and dates that she was certain they made more difficult just to spite one another. For two wizards over 110, they acted awfully like children.