Chapter 6: The Place Where You Hang Your Hat

"Ah! There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort. Nobody can be more devoted to home than I am." Jane Austen in Emma (1815)

After making sure the Aurors were not after our trail, Gellert and I checked ourselves out of the suite at Le Meurice and apparated with all of our luggage -Fire Crab's carapace and plastron included- in front of the Lohner-Porsche in the Parisian woods. After loading the trunk and making sure we hadn't been followed, we took flight. As usual Gellert turned on the Poulsen wire recorder when we were airborne. This time the music playing was a piece for violin with piano accompaniment. The violinist played with a masterful glissando, expressive rubato and vertiginous pizzicato.

I laughed: "Is that Paganini? My word, you have one of the darker senses of humor of anyone I've ever met, Gellert."

He smiled: "I won't argue you that. But it is not Paganini, though it is close enough: It is Pablo Sarasate playing his Capricho Vasco- Caprice Basque. He is often mentioned as a gifted fiddler, second only to Paganini. I thought that -since we are going to Spain- a Spaniard virtuoso would make a good choice."

"Who said we are going to Spain?"

"I did, when I invited you home."

"I thought we were going to your great aunt's house or to wherever in Transylvania Nurmengard Vár happens to be."

He sniggered: "The old family stead hasn't been in the family's actual possession for a couple of centuries. And the Old Bag...shot manor is just the place where I presently hang my hat. As I've already told you, we Seers are considered a precious commodity by wizarding authorities worldwide. Two gifted Seers for the price of one are too good of a prize to let slip between their greedy fingers. That's why Nagymama decided to make her gypsy's family old town the place for our safe house. The fact that the country is the historical seat of one of the most efficient Inquisitions and, hence, a place where only a handful of stubborn secretive wizards remain, made it all the more attractive to us. Whenever we were not traveling or I was not at school, we stayed at Málaga. We have a hidden house in the barriodeCañada de los Ingleses -The Englishmen Gully neighborhood.- The house is on the southeast slope of the Gribalfaro mount, where the Phoenician first founded the city. The place where the house is located has a beautiful botanical garden filled with exotic species and it has a breathtaking ocean view. It is very picturesque, I'm sure you are going to like it."

He parked the car in front of a steel gate with two sheets pivoting from two columns topped by guarding marble lions. One of the columns had a sign that read Saint George English Cemetery. I couldn't help laughing: "You call a cemetery your home? And I thought my house was grim and forlorn. I stand corrected, you have the darkest sense of humor of anyone that I've ever met in my life!"

"That is Nagymama's sense of humor, my friend, not mine. The choice of the place was hers and it is not casual. This is a Protestant cemetery in a Catholic country, it is always empty. It is easy to keep a low profile here. And in case someone sees you, looking like a foreigner doesn't make you stand out. Finally a cemetery does not encourage social interaction. Now hurry along, let's unload the car and get in. Gambling your life at Fire Crab Roulette is hungry work. I'm positively famished."

"I could have a bite to eat too. I haven't had anything but sugar since breakfast today or whenever."

We unloaded the car after casting an invisibility spell on it and us. When we were done, Gellert put the car inside his space-pocket pouch. I put the luggage inside my own pouch and I was about to go through the gates when the marble lions stood up and roared menacingly at me.

Gellert waved his wand and the lions went still: "Sorry about that. It has been a long while since I've come home with someone other than Nagymama. The place, as you can see, is heavily guarded by powerful spells and delusions, follow me closely and you will be perfectly fine."

We went up a steep shadowy path with tree arches; until we reached a patio where stood a Doric Temple in red sandstone, which was also dedicated to Saint George. We went inside the temple to a diaphanous room, inundated with light; where there were several Neogothic and Neoclasicc monumental tombs. In the left side of the room, one of the mausoleums was flanked by three iron cast dolphins chained by their tails. When I approached them they floated circling around me. They blocked my path while they sounded the alarm with loud whistles, clicking trains and high pitched squeaks. Once more Gellert waved his wand and the dolphins went back to their place, quiet and still.

In the midst of the chained dolphins laid several tombs with epitaphs, the one that fixed in my memory was: We part to meet again. In one side of the family mausoleum there was a striated red marble column with the inscription Vincit Omina Veritas (truth conquers all) as the main feature. In the other side of the mausoleum stood the winged figure of an angel with a star of five points over his head. The angel was embracing a cross with one hand while pointing with the other hand towards the sky.

The angel fixed a fearsome stare on me and demanded: "Speak the truth, mortal."

That was probably enough to make a Muggle pee his pants, but I was used to statues and paintings demanding passwords to let you into places. I looked at Gellert ignoring the scowling angel: "What's the password?"

He smiled playfully at me: "Can't you guess?"

The angel lifted the cross from the stone which revealed its pointy diamond end. The cross was actually a sword. Brandishing it over my head the angel spoke with a thunderclap voice: "Don't test my patience," He demanded more forcefully: "Speak the truth, mortal!"

I sighed and spoke two words: "Deathly Hallows." The angel nodded with a, well, with an angelic smile, while the stone pedestal on which it stood revealed an iron door that opened before us.

Gellert chuckled: "I'm impressed, you got it on the first try."

I smiled sideways: "Since your guardian pulled a sword at my head, I'd say I got it on the second try. I wonder what would have happened, if I hadn't guessed it."

"I wouldn't have let it harm you, Albus."

"I don't know if I should believe you. For some reason your home doesn't seem welcoming..." I interrupted myself as soon as we went through the door. I'm not sure exactly what I was expecting… No, that is not completely honest, after seeing his apartments in Belgrave Square, dinning in his table at Pagani and staying at his suite in Le Meurice, I had expected Earl Grindelwald's home to be grandiose, which it was… What took me by surprise was that besides being grandiose it was also cozy.

I know it seems like a contradiction, but the ample spaces and impeccable decoration of Gellert's home still managed to convey a feeling of the most delightful domesticity. Gold, marble and rich silk tapestries weren't displayed as if in a museum, but carefully disposed where they would be at the best advantage to serve for the comfort of its masters.

Gellert put his hand in his pouch and his pet Augurey flew out of it cackling in what sounded like a reproachful way. He smiled warmly at the bird: "We are home, Kormos. Go stretch your wings and then go perch in the sun room. Karl will feed you some yummy mice in a minute."

I asked unbelieving: "You had an Augurey inside your pouch all along?"

"Kormos goes wherever I go. I like him to be by my side. You said you couldn't afford an expensive pet but, didn't you have a pet going to school? I thought all Hogwarts alums had a pet."

The Augurey had perched on the bow of a bronze statue of Diana the huntress that presided over the right side of an imposing marble staircase. The statue depicted a gorgeous girl naked save for a garland of flowers that covered not one inch of her. Diana tried to shake off the Augurey, making her breasts bounce and her arrows roll around in her quiver, but the bird clutched to the bow unfazed. Her brother Apollo -a handsome boy presiding over the left side of the staircase, who was also fully naked save for a garland of laurel- clutched at his lire and scowled menacingly at the bird.

Gellert chuckled and said: "Go now Kormos, before you feel the ire of the ancient gods. Karl will be with you presently." Kormos finally flew away going up the staircase.

I had watched the exchange bemused before replying to his earlier question: "Pets are allowed but not compulsory. I could barely afford the books and uniform. I couldn't keep a pet. Who is Karl?"

The sound of a house elf suddenly apparating behind me almost made me jump. The old wrinkled elf was wearing a two-headed eagle banner like a Roman toga. He bowed and spoke in a low rumbling voice: "Master Grindelwald is home, Karl is happy to serve him. Command me and I will obey."

Gellert: "Oh it's great to be home! And it is good to see you again, Karl." He affectionately massaged the elf's wrinkled cheeks with his fists saying: "I've missed you!" He took the elf by the shoulders and inspected him: "You haven't been taking good care of yourself. You are all bones and wrinkles. Have you been eating properly, Karl?"

The house elf blushed: "Master Grindelwald shouldn't worry for a lowly elf like Karl. The house is big and I'm not as fast as I used to be… But I am still able of taking good care of it. I would never let you down, never, my master, I swear on the memory of Mistress Yelena." Karl ended proudly.

"Nagymama wouldn't have wanted to see you wasting away. I'm making breakfast for my friend and me. I'll leave a dish out for you too."

The elf tried to protest: "But, Master Grindelwald, you shouldn't both…"

He rose an admonitory finger: "No buts. I don't want to find your breakfast lying on the kitchen's counter. You must eat and keep your strength to better serve me. Is that understood Karl?"

The elf nodded.

Gellert sighed patting the elf's back: "I'd wish I could get you some more hands to help you around the house, Karl, but there is no one I can trust like I trust you." Then he said signaling me: "This is my friend, Albus Dumbledore, while he stays with us you must treat him as if he were me. You will address him as Master Dumbledore. He is allowed to go everywhere in the house and you shall obey any order he gives you as long as it doesn't mean harming yourself." He said smiling at me: "Not that I think you capable of ever asking him something like that, but some of my cousins have been horrible house guests; so, whenever I can, I tell Karl that no wizard or witch has the right to ask him to hurt himself." Then he looked back at the house elf: "Prepare Master Dumbledore the blue bedroom, I think he will enjoy the view to the cove framed by the pines." He smiled big at me: "The smell of the sea and the mountain trees at the break of dawn is invigorating."

I looked at him with eyes wide with surprise: "Are we going to be here at the break of dawn?"

"I brought us two days before we parted to Paris, Monsieur Dumbledore. We are not meeting in our time until tomorrow afternoon. You will return right when we left, in time to meet your family obligations. I don't know about you, but I could really use some time to recuperate from our Parisian adventure. And there truly is nothing like staying at home for real comfort."

I chuckled: "That's from Jane Austen, from her Emma, if I'm not mistaken."

"You are not mistaken. But something tells me that you seldom are." He turned back to instructing the house elf: "Karl, we shall have fresh flowers. The black crystal stone vase with some calla lilies from Nagymama's garden will be fine for the chimney mantle in Albus' room. I will have my usual bouquet of yellow roses in Opa's favorite green Ming vase. Kormos is supposed to be in the sun room, please verify it is not being mischievous elsewhere and feed it some mice. If you found any doxys in the tapestries you can give it those too. Kormos just loves doxys." He turned towards me and explained: "My loving pet always does something mischievous when it feels neglected. Nagymama spoiled it terribly and now it is incorrigible. It is a proper nebpancsvirág, so easily offended."

"We are still talking about the bird, aren't we?"

He cocked an eyebrow: "Ah that wicked wit of yours, Albus." He said it without turning around to look at me: "Master Dumbledore will give you our luggage for you to unpack it. We will be at the kitchen while you do. I think it is more like dinner time for us, but when in Rome do as Romans do, so we are going to go by local time and have breakfast. I'm going to make us huevos high life. I brought some brioche bread with me from Paris, but I need fresh eggs, morcillas, freshly cut thyme and some dried up Ñora peppers. Karl, bring all the ingredients to me before you start unpacking. Also, go down to the wine cellar and bring me a bottle of Nagymama'sBodega de Guardia fortified wine. We'll have the wine and some orange juice for beverage… So bring me some oranges from the orchard too. Bring enough for all three of us, Karl. No, no, don't argue with me, at least while I'm here you are eating properly." He smiled at me: "Being a Seer, Nagymama accurately predicted the phylloxera fly plague in 1878 and she was careful to build a reserve of the finest caldos Malagueños. Our wine cellar is a treasure trove of Spanish wines from a time gone by. Did you know Catherine the Great of Russia was so taken by these wines from Málaga that she exempt them from taxes after tasting them just once?"

I had never seen any wizard treating a house elf like he did. It won me over. I smiled back: "I had no idea I was going to be drinking such illustrious beverages. My ignorance in the subject of fine wines is greater than my ignorance in most other topics. But I'm certain that if they were good enough for a Muggle Empress, they'll be good enough for me."

He laughed: "Irony is the lowest form of wit. And false modesty is a type of sin, Monsieur Dumbledore. Your ignorance on the subject of fine wines can be very easily remedied. Stay by my side and I'll be sure to further your education on it."

I chuckled: "Perhaps that is an ignorance I should be wiser choosing to keep."

"Choosing to keep yourself ignorant can never be wise." Then Gellert had turned back to Karl: "You are going to find a Fire Crab shell in my brown leather travel bag, you can put it in my room inside the safe behind daddy's painting of the clipper. There is also a bag of emeralds, those belong to Master Dumbledore, and you can put them in his room."

I protested before thinking it through: "The emeralds are not mine."

"Of course they are, Albus, you won them risking your life."

"I..." was going to keep on protesting when I realized the jewels could probably cover at least two years of rent, as well as my outstanding bills with the butcher, the grocer and half of the merchant's at Godric's Hollow. And even after all that was covered, I might still have enough left to replace my old dinner frock. I shut up, pride was a luxury I couldn't very well afford.

Gellert carried on instructing Karl: "We are going to want to bathe in the ocean after we eat, pack some towels and the bathing suits for us. We'll also need one of the cloth changing cabins and a couple of umbrellas. You must readied clothes for us to change into after we bathe. I'm thinking white linen summer suits, you can fit one of mine for my friend. I'll wear mine with the hot pink cotton shirt and Albus will wear the checkered aquamarine shirt I stopped wearing last summer. I think that will fit him just fine without any alteration. Those outfits will be perfect for a quiet informal summer soiree at home. We'll use marine blue silk cravats with my nautical opal gold tie pins as accessories. I'll use the enameled cufflinks with the anchors and Albus' will use the cufflinks with the Spanish doubloons and emeralds. We'll dress ourselves. After you finish, you can continue with your usual chores. We'll talk about the plans for dinner when we come back from the beach. Albus, please give Karl the luggage."

I gave the luggage to Karl, the house elf dissaparated and apparated almost immediately, carrying a huge basket with a bottle of wine, fresh eggs, a bunch of aromatic herbs, some dried up peppers, oranges and what appeared to be blood sausages. Then he dissaparated once more, presumably to go feed Kormos, freshen up the flowers and unpack our luggage.

Waving his wand Gellert made the basket float after us as he led the way into the kitchen, he walked into a corridor turning left from the imposing marble staircase, passing a drawing room with a grand piano on it. The paintings of a host of stately wizards and witches hanging from the walls watched us smiling and nodding approvingly at us as we walked down the corridor.

Once inside the ample kitchen Earl Grindelwald took off his coat, folded it neatly over the back of a chair, rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and tied his hair in a bun with some leather cord he had wrapped around his wrist; then he had expertly tied the cords of a spotless white apron around his waist. He cast Accio phonograph and a case with an Edison wax cylinder phonograph and a box of cylinders landed on the kitchen counter. He put on one of the cylinders and the phonograph played Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat major Op. 9 No. 2.

He beamed at me as he washed his hands and his wand like a healer does in an ample sink with an old fashioned water pump. As he lathered the eggs he said: "I like to listen to music while I cook. Chopin is my absolute favorite piano composer. This cylinder was recorded by a good friend of mine. I hope you don't mind having music in the kitchen. Jonah Lee Jenkins is a North American wizard, he is one of the famous Jenkins, half of his family work in high ranking post at MACUSA. He is also an amazing pianist. Our common interest in sound recording has made for some very fruitful correspondence."

"I don't mind music at all. I like music pretty much anywhere. My father used to joke that our family name, Dumbledore -which comes from an ancient world for bumblebee- was given to our ancestors because we were humming all the time. And my mum Kendra was an accomplished pianist."

"Aren't all witches accomplished pianist nowadays?"

"They are supposed to be. The only catch is that my mum really was a good pianist."

He laughed while with a deft wave of his wand he set a big cast iron skillet over a lighted up stove: He gave the blood sausages a light fry using their own fat so the skillet could soak in the flavor of the sausages and asked: "Do you play the piano?"

I blushed: "I do, but not as well as my mum did."

He looked up from the stove straight at me: "Is that your false modesty speaking, my friend?"

I looked away: "No, I fear it is just my big mouth giving me the chance to be humbled yet again."

He laughed louder and with another wave of the wand he took out the sausages from the pan and set them apart on a plate. Then he poured a generous quantity of olive oil from a carafe over the hot skillet. He cut slivers of dried up Ñora pepper with his wand and let the slivers mix with the heating olive oil: "I'm sure you will be fine. You can play for us when we come back from the beach, while we wait for Karl to cook dinner. I enjoy cooking, but I have a huge backlog of papers to go over and correspondence to read and reply to."

"That's fine, I have a translation from Middle Goblin in my list of things to do. I put the scroll in my pouch hoping not to take it out during our weekend in Paris. But if you are going through some papers, I can get some work done too."

"I'm afraid that it is unavoidable, even with a time traveling device, at some point, you need to get down and get things done. As Opa Grindelwald liked to say: Des Teufels liebstes möbelstück ist die lange bank. It literally means the devil's favorite piece of furniture is the long bench. The non-literal meaning is that the devil loves procrastinators; so I should not procrastinate any longer. Talking about Opa Grindelwald, when you tire of playing the piano or working on your translation, you can go over his library. My grandfather was a bibliophile, I'm sure you'll enjoy his collection of both magical and Muggle books."

Another wave of the wand and some glass cups began hollowing out round portions of the brioche bread.

"I'm sure I will enjoy it." I smiled, then tried to change the subject away from me having to play the piano: "So huevos high life are eggs in a hole. That is one of the few things I actually know how to cook. Do you want me to give you a hand?"

"Mr. Holmes strikes again. I really appreciate your offer, but not today, my friend. Today you are a guest in my home for the first time, so all you have to do is sit back and enjoy your meal."

I took off my coat too, sat on a chair and watched him work. He toasted the bread to a golden crisp, cracked the eggs in one swift movement and cooked them until the yolk was just at the right point of tenderness. Just before taking the eggs in a hole out of the skillet, he expertly dosed the aromatic herbs and some salt over them. He had finished frying the blood sausages he'd cut diagonally mixed with sun-dried tomatoes. And then he set the food on three plates as if he were painting a picture. The last he did was squishing the oranges and pouring the juice in tall glasses. He had crushed ice in a metal basin and he put the juice glasses in it to chill. All while he cooked we were listening to Chopin's most famous Nocturne. If anyone had told me only a week before that I could find such pleasure watching somebody cook, I wouldn't have believed it.

I smiled: "You seem really good at this. I have been fumbling around in the kitchen ever since my mum died. I wish I had half the dexterity you have at casting cooking spells."

He chucked: "All it takes is practice. You should have seen me the first time I tried to cook. I had just turned eleven, had just received my wand and I was like a bull let lose in a crystal house. All in all I destroyed five pieces of Nagymama's wedding china and only managed to get half cooked food. Karl was bereaved. He even begged his beloved Mistress Yelena not to allow me to set food in the kitchen ever again. But she said it was imperative that I was at least able to feed myself with or without magic. She was determined to teach me to cook and she did. She used the kitchen as a learning experience for a whole lot of other things. Key lessons can be learnt by the selfless act of feeding others, Albus."

He put two eggs and two sausages in a silver chafing dish and stand, set it on the kitchen's counter and, with his wand, light up the spirit lamp and labeled the dish with Karl's name. Then he carried on: "You probably don't know it, but Durmstrang doesn't have a fixed location, though it always moves somewhere near the Northern Sea or some big northern lake, the caravel needs deep waters to anchor."

"That explains why no one seems to be able to locate it even using powerful scrying spells."

"Please Albus, there is no need to be coy, we know you can't locate Hogwarts on the map either. Durmstrang is a rather warring school, and the reason for moving it around is more strategic than protective. But the point I'm trying to make is that it is usually at a location where you cannot afford to lose two months of summer, so classes begin in March and end in December, with a break for Christmas holidays, two months off in January and February and another break in Easter. This is the first free summer I've had in ages. I was born on July 26th, so it took almost eight months after turning eleven before I could go to school. Nagymama didn't want me to be idle, she continued homeschooling me, just adding subjects like basic charms. I learnt my first spells in this kitchen, for Nagymama said that there is nothing in life that cannot be learnt and learnt well in front of a stove. So to teach me the basics of casting charms: memorization, focusing the will, enunciation, wand movements… She made me pick a recipe from one of her cook books, memorize it, prepare it the Muggle way until I did it to perfection and then do it casting mágeiras, until she was satisfied with the results. My first few attempts were a complete disaster. I feared that Karl was going to die of an apoplexy."

I already knew the answer but I still asked: "Which recipe did you pick?"

"I picked a recipe from a Muggle Spanish chef called Ángel Muro. I chose his huevos high life because it sounded sumptuous and because the book it was in: El Practicón Tratado Completo de Cocina was the only one in Nagymama's possession with a bright yellow cover, which is my favorite colour. I regretted my choice when I found out the book was solely in Spanish. I tried to get Nagymama to let me change the recipe, but she wouldn't. We Grindelwalds do not run from difficulties. So she made me translate the recipe to English and High Goblin and memorize it in all three languages."

I smiled: "You've said it yourself, Yelena Grindelwald was a formidable witch."

He nodded with a warm reminiscing smile: "Yelena Báthory Grindelwald was one in a million, my friend. I miss her daily. Especially when I'm home. I feel her absence more keenly when I'm here."

I caressed his hand as he set one plate with two eggs in a hole and two blood sausages with sundried tomatoes in front of me. He returned the caress and set another plate in front of his seat. He took out two sets of cutlery wrapped in purple and green fabric napkins. He handed me the purple napkin set and took the green set for himself.

He poured two glasses of wine and brought the two glasses of orange juice in the ice basin from the counter to the table. As he wiped the juice glasses with a cloth he said: "And now, my friend, you are going to be the judge of how well I learnt that recipe: aquí tenéis, huevos high life con morcillas."

I laughed softly: "Gellert Grindelwald, you are one of a kind too. I don't know how you manage to make breakfast with eggs in a hole and blood sausages eaten in your grandma's kitchen table into a grand occasion."

"Every occasion is special when you are in the right company. That is why you have to be mindful of who you share your life with. Choose poorly and your life turns bleak, choose wisely and each moment becomes faceted, bright, with all the colours of the rainbow, like you are seeing it through a well cut diamond, my friend."

I sighed: "What if you don't get to choose the company you keep on a daily basis."

"Albus, you always have choice. And a choice I will ask you to make, but not right now. One doesn't talk shop at the table..."

I finished for him: "That would be rude. Merlin forbid that we cheapen this sumptuous breakfast. Let us live in the here and now, focused on savoring these huevos high life of yours. If they turn out to be half as delicious as they smell, then your Nagymama was a genius as a teacher." I tasted the wine: "And a genius as a Seer for preserving this wonderful wine from the flies."

He rose his glass smiling and said: "Salud to that, my friend."

I rose my glass, touched it lightly against his and replied: "Cheers!"

With him every single second was as seen through a faceted diamond. A few days with him and my previously dark sky was filling up with millions of stars. How was I ever going to be able to walk away, if his proposal turned out to be unsavory or demeaning? I swallowed the lump in my throat with another big gulp of wine, fearing that if it came to that, I wasn't going to have the strength of character to do what I should and refuse him.

He didn't let me ponder. After we finished the food, he cleaned the dishes, took off the apron, put on his coat, undid the bun and signaled me to get up, put my coat on and get out of the kitchen as he cried out: "Karl, we are going to the beach now! Don't forget to eat your breakfast!"

Karl popped up in front of us ambling towards the kitchen and grumbled that it was a waste of time. When he passed by his side, Gellert playfully pinched his wrinkled cheek, calling him grumpy and saying Karl should have a glass of wine to sweeten his disposition. The elf couldn't help but smile.

Karl had left the cloth changing cabin, the umbrellas and two duffel bags in the foyer for us, Gellert put them away in his magic pouch and off we went to the beach.

Hermione gritted her teeth and clutched her hands in fists: "This is disturbing! This is so disturbing!"

Ron frowned: "What do you mean, luv?"

"It is disturbing that the second worst dark wizard in all modern history was one of the few who knew how to treat a house elf like a person. I honestly don't know how to feel about it."

Ginny snorted: "I thought you were talking about the cooking part. That is how mum taught me to cast spells. I was so despondent -being the last to go to Hogwarts- that she let me help her around the Burrow. I didn't realize just how much I had actually learnt from her, not until my first lesson in charms. Most people couldn't tell heads from tails of their wands. They didn't know how to wave, how to enunciate…I could cast most simple spells on the first try. How do you go from cooking with the grandma who loved you to setting the world on fire? He was loved and cared for by people who seem to have had things straight. Merlin's wand! Our grandpa Madoc used to tell me that procrastination was the devil's love child, when he saw me trying to get away with not doing my chores. That is almost the same thing his grandpa told him. Tom Riddle had an awful childhood, devoid of love, full of neglect, but Gellert Grindelwald didn't. He had more opportunities than most wizards do. What went wrong?"

Harry pointed out: "Not all people with awful childhoods turn evil, Gin."

Hermione sighed: "The Gellert Grindelwald in these diaries doesn't sound evil. If he was faking it, he was really, really good at it."

Ron muttered: "Good enough to fool Dumbledore, luv."

No one knew what to reply, so they remained silent. After a while, Hermione got a hold of herself and carried on reading.

"We are going to take the car, Apparation Laws are very restrictive here in Spain and particularly in Málaga, this is a city of revolutionaries, and the handful of wizarding families that live in it participated actively in the uprising of General Torrijos in the 18th century and the Canton Malagüeño Revolts during the Republic days in this century. In fact, the beach of St. Andrew -where we are going- has gained recent infamy from an 1888 oil painting by this Muggle Antonio Gisbert Pérez depicting Torrijos and forty eight of his men being executed with a firing squad by the authoritarian government of Fernando VI in a decidedly Goya style. Rumor has it that at least four of those forty eight were wizards or witches disguising as Muggles with Polyjuice Potion."

As we flew over the city I pointed out: "Is it normal for the city to be these quiet in the summer?"

Gellert sighed: "This is a dying city, Albus, it has been for a while. It started in 1878 when the phylloxera plague practically killed off the vineyards. And then the revolts and uprisings brought unwanted attention to the thriving iron industry. The foundries got most of their coal from England by sea, the government -theoretically to protect the coal trade from Asturias- set a fifty percent tax on the English coal. In reality it was a measure to humble the city's bourgeois. Transportation of coal from Asturias was almost as costly as buying the coal with the added tax. The situation was evidently not sustainable and the furnaces were turned off when I was eight back in 1891. From then onwards the City Council has been trying to promote the city as a sea resort with uneven results."

"I don't know why that is, the beaches look lovely from up here."

He smiled: "The beaches look lovely from up close too. They haven't been much successful so far, but they will be. I have had visions of the Paseo de Reading filled with new buildings and a Grand Hotel. It is coming, slowly but surely. One day these beaches will be filled with Muggles and their ridiculous bathing machines. I don't know how to feel about it, a part of me wishes them well, the other mourns."

"What is a bathing machine?"

He laughed meanly: "Is this Muggle contraption consisting of a small cabin with cart wheels pulled by horses or mules that allow prudes to bathe in the sea without risking anybody seeing even their ankles."

I laughed: "Come on, Gellert. A little modesty is to be desired. You don't expect people to bathe nude."

He chuckled: "I usually do outside school. I like to do my sport as they did in classic antiquity."

I looked at him startled: "But you asked Karl to pack bathing suits."

"I did, but mainly to accommodate you, my friend. You don't strike me as the swimming naked type."

I blushed: "I wouldn't want to scandalize the Giant Squid. It is a rather delicate soul."

He looked at me frowning: "I'm sorry, I'm not following you: What Giant Squid?"

I chuckled: "I used to swim in Hogwarts Lake. A Giant Squid calls it home. It is very congenial, it lets the first years tickle its tentacles, though it is not above giving the ones who misbehave a good dunking to teach them a lesson. It is a widow, its husband was killed by whalers who mistook it for a sperm whale. The Giant Squid was saved from sharing in its husband's fate by Dame Antonia Creaseworthy; who was a witch that went on to be knighted for her exploits as a privateer and retired from seafaring to become Hogwarts Headmistress. While she was still a student back in the 17th century, she saved the Giant Squid by apparating during the summer break right in the middle of Hogwarts Lake with her sail boat, the squid and a boat of very confused Muggle whalers that proved fairly hard to oblivate; the bigger the scare the harder it is to wipe it from a person's memory and they were sailors, which made their willingness to relinquish an amazing tale even less likelier. But Hogwarts was hidden even then."

Gellert whistled: "Hihetetlen! She managed to apparate with two boats, several Muggles and a Giant Squid? Aren't there anti-apparating spells in Hogwarts and its grounds?"

I chuckled: "There are after Antonia's stunt. She is also exceptional in another respect, she is the only Headmistress who had a painting of her –depicting the incident- hung from Hogwarts' walls before she even was a Headmistress, of usual those are hung up after they die. The painting is in the girl's prefect bathroom on the fifth floor. I don't know whose bright idea that was, I would be unnerved bathing with all the Muggles gawking at me. Not that the Mermaid in the boy's prefect bathroom is any better."

He laughed: "What were you doing in the girl's prefect bathroom, Albus Dumbledore?"

I smiled: "It is a rite of passage for all new prefect boys to sneak into that bathroom and emerge with the words of wisdom that Dame Antonia's portrait has to impart as proof of having been there."

"And, may I inquire: what were the words of wisdom that you learnt from the portrait of the pirate witch?"

I corrected: "Dame Antonia was a privateer, not a pirate, all her swashbuckling was done under the auspices of the Muggle British crown. And I'll gladly share her wisdom with you. Upon discovering my presence in the girl's prefect bathroom, Dame Antonia uttered these words: 'Oh, not this again. Every fifty years or so one of you sneaks in here. Surely there are a thousand better things to do with your time than skulking around girl's bathrooms. One point less for the redhead Gryffindor peeping tom! Now report to the current Headmaster, you have owlery cleaning duty for the next two weeks, boy.' I thought she was going to make me walk the plank. She ran a tight ship."

Gellert chuckled: "Can Headmistress' portraits punish students in Hogwarts?"

"I don't know about the other headmistress' portraits, but Dame Antonia certainly could. I spent two weeks cleaning owls' droppings, but gained the respect of the other prefects. Turns out most of them outright lied about having sneaked into the bathroom. I was the first in nearly sixty years to be foolish enough to take on the dare head on. Most of the prefects got away with inventing a catchphrase."

"You are a knight, my friend. Unfortunately for you this world is made for knaves to prosper."

"I hope you are wrong. Anyway, The Black Lake is not necessarily inviting, it also has a colony of Merpeople, who I'm sure wouldn't have appreciated seeing me swimming naked every single morning. That colony is the reason why I chose Mermish as a third language. It was a simple matter of survival. Fighting my way out daily would have been too much exercise. It was better to parley."

"You swam daily in a lake full of Merpeople?"

"Mostly for hygienic reasons. Orandum est ut sit mens sana in corpore sano… monstro quod ipse tibi possis, dare; semita cert tranquillae per virtutem patet unica vitae. 'You should pray for a healthy mind in a healthy body, what I commend to you, you can give to yourself. For assuredly, the only road to a peaceful life lies through the path of virtue,' as Juvenal said."

"Juvenal satires aside, I'm glad you don't share on most wizards prejudices against physical exercise. And you hate brooms, so I guess the most wizarding of sports: Quidditch, is not really for you."

"What makes you say I hate brooms?"

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow: "Don't you?"

"I hate heights. I think the reason why I leaned more towards Gryffindor was that the Ravenclaw's dorms are up in windy turrets. I wouldn't have been able to sleep a wink with clear windows."

"What happened to asking for a stout heart that lacks the fear of death and can endure the toils of Hercules hardships? That is also in Juvenal's Satire X."

"I don't fear death, but I would rather not plunge to it from up high. How did you figure it out?"

He beamed at me: "I deduced it from the terrified look on your face when we were hoisted up the Eiffel Tower, and by the little flinching motion you make every single time we take off in the Lohner-Porsche. Though, I give it to the redhead Gryffindor, not once have you refused to face your fear."

I snorted and tried to change the subject: "Is Quidditch your sport?"

"Do I look like the type who devotes his waking hours to idolizing a bunch of brutes pursuing balls ridding brooms?"

Ginny, a former Holyhead Harpy, exclaimed: "That right there is irrefutable proof that he was evil!"

Hermione chuckled: "Really? Just because he didn't like Quidditch?"

Ron, a Chudley Cannons hardcore fan, nodded: "It is a sure sign of Evil, with uppercase E."

Hermione stifled a laugh and continued reading.

"I'll take that as a no. Just so you know, I support Puddlemer United."

He sniggered: "Let me guess, humming Dumbledore likes singing their anthem: Beat Back those Bludgers, Boys, and Chuck That Quaffle Here..."

I smiled: "Who doesn't like a good singalong? My choice was actually made because they are good, and because they used to have a traditional rivalry with the Scottish team my father favored: The Banchory Bangers. My dad's maternal grandfather Wulfric Lochlier used to be their chaser."

"Weren't they disbanded in 1814 for being rowdy drunkards?"

"They were kicked out of the league for trying to catch a Hebridean Black Dragon in one of their post-match parties. But they didn't actually disband, they continued playing unsanctioned and still have a following. It was my father's dream to get them back in the league and be their chaser."

He cocked an eyebrow: "You chose a team with a traditional rivalry to the one your dad loved?"

I sighed: "My dad and I didn't see eye to eye in many subjects."

"Is it too forward of me to ask you why?"

"Perhaps, but it could be argued that I've invited the inquiry. Father was disappointed in me, among other things, for not being an accomplished broom rider. Supposedly I descend from a long line of brilliant chasers, something doubtful given the Banchory Bangers dreadful reputation."

"Was your dad an accomplished broom rider?"

"He was, when he wasn't upholding the other family tradition for… how did you call it? Ah yes, rowdy drunkenness. Let us say that his version of sporting camaraderie was not one I could admire and, since he insisted in me choosing a Quidditch team, I chose Puddlemere United."

"That must not have made him happy."

"I guess not. But I was not a source of much happiness or pride to my father. I was too bookish, too serious. And I inherited my mum's redhead. A sour reminder of the Abercrombie blood that ran through his child's veins. You are probably not aware of it, but the Abercrombies are related to the Camerons and there is a blood feud tracing to the 18th century with the Lochliers. For some reason, even after the Statute of Secrecy, these Muggle feuds carry into the Wizarding World."

"Then why did your mum and dad got married?"

"They met at school, she was a really handsome woman and he got her pregnant. She was the daughter and granddaughter of squibs, but that was enough to force him to marry her. As for mum, she wanted to land a pure-blood husband that could offer her a comfortable station in life and some legitimacy in the eyes of the witches that called her Muggle born, as mum was ever ready to deny. When dad was worse for the fire whiskey, he told whoever would listen that marrying her had been the end of his Quidditch career." I smiled sadly: "So you won't have to suffer grief from me for not liking the sport. I like it though, but more for the spirit of true sporting camaraderie than from anything else."

"I do understand the appeal of sporting camaraderie. What I don't like about Quidditch is that it is used by the Ministries as a sugar tit for adults, ye old panem et circenses -bread and games- to appease the crowd. We wizards cling to the tit like there is no tomorrow… And a future there won't be unless we are ready to quit infancy. I do sports mostly for hygienic reasons too. I'm a pagan of the good times. But my life of virtue… that one I seek it in other more serious pursues, which relates to my proposal. A proposal I intend to make to you as soon as we are at the beach."

We descended onto the sandy beach, set up the changing cabin, put on the swimsuits, which turned out to be his old school ones. After setting the towels and the umbrellas we sat taking in the morning sun rays and Gellert made his offer. I should have walked away, but who walks when offered the world?