"So you have come."

Sure took you ages. I heavily suspect your low efficiency is why you never managed to kill Harry Potter.

"I thought you would… one day."

And had a particularly nice vision about you shouting your head off and murdering me.

"But your journey was pointless. I never had it."

Fucking Dumbledore and his stupid antics about getting himself killed.

"You lie," Voldemort seethed.

Yes, I always lie, don't I? Can't even break that habit when someone's threatening my life.

He cackled madly at Voldemort's fury.

"Kill me then, Voldemort, I welcome death!"

I've been waiting for 53 years.

"But my death will not bring you what you seek… there is so much you do not understand."

Just like how I didn't understand...

Okay, well, at least he understood the part about how the elder wand was passed on. Perhaps the whole splitting his soul into bits and pieces had permanently damaged this fellow's brain.

"Kill me then!"

Please, dear Merlin. Get to it, so your ugly head is out of my face.

Looking at you is like looking into a mirror.

"You will not win, you cannot win! That wand will never ever be yours—"

—ah, finally.

Finally, that gentle green light covered him just like how it covered so many of his victims.

A fitting end.

A fitting end his arse.

Grindelwald didn't expect that someone like him would have the opportunity to open his eyes once more. What an unfortunate turn of events.

He was pretty sure the killing curse hit its mark, and doubly sure his name wasn't Harry Potter.

But above all, he was sure that he felt like crap right now, so perhaps this was the place that muggles called Hell. He struggled to make clear of his surroundings and blinked his eyes several times in order to focus properly. Light sensitivity issues with your eyes occur when you've been rotting in a dark cell for decades.

Gorgeous red hair, dead blue eyes.

Shit, Dumbledore.

Bleak gray sky, flat grass fields.

Bloody audience.

Wands out.

Duel of 1945.

This is definitely hell.

Grindelwald could feel the gazes of the audience burning at the two of them to commence their duel, even from 150 meters away. Most of them were aurors waiting for the duel to finish to swoop in and arrest him. Some of them were his own followers, eagerly anticipating him to display extraordinary feats of magic to completely subdue Dumbledore.

Which was never going to happen.

He couldn't win against him. He couldn't even manage to threaten a picture of Dumbledore on his stupid chocolate card to come out. Always blank.

Grindelwald inwardly sighed. Thinking of Dumbledore always managed to piss him off one way or another. Honestly, he just wanted to chuck the elder wand at Dumbledore and shout at him to just take it. In fact, it took a considerable amount of willpower for him not to simply do so as he reminded himself to ascertain the circumstances first.

"Are we going to start?" Dumbledore asked coldly, his emotionless gaze contained a slight trace of confusion.

"Not yet, " Grindelwald heard himself replying.

Dear Merlin, at least let him get his bearings first.

This was hell and the devil has decided to make him suffer by reliving his suffering over and over again as he watches helplessly, unable to change a single course of action of his miserable life. Or maybe Death decided to play a little game with him because he once used the elder wand. Or perhaps… memories from the future have overwritten his current ego and replaced his identity, possibly a side effect from being a seer that always sees things the opposite of what he wants to see.

Wonderful.

Grindelwald's eyes flashed with annoyance and fatigue. He had a sudden urge to off himself right then and there, which consequently, drove his arm to unconsciously lift to aim and press the wand tip to his head.

He'd only recognized what he had done after Dumbledore widened his eyes, moved a step backwards, and slightly aimed his wand towards him because of the sudden movement of his arm.

That was awkward.

Grindelwald slowly moved his arm back down to his side, and spoke as steadily as he could, "I do not wish to fight."

He did not want to fight Dumbledore, and lose spectacularly again. Actually, the duel would probably be less spectacular this time considering how out of practice he was with using magic.

In fact, he did not want to fight anyone. He felt rather mellowed out right now, a nice little side effect from being idle for too long… alright fine, he still wanted to torture Scamander.

But what he really wanted was to meet Death and spit in his face for not doing his job properly.

Regrettably, he couldn't, not yet, at least not until some people were settled...

That unpleasant feeling tugged at his heart strings once more. He should've been used to it by now, after all these years. But he could never come around with how wretched it made him feel. If he could have felt it earlier on...

He thought… they wouldn't be affected.

He made sure that they...

But, obviously things did not go as planned.

Was it too late to reschedule the duel a week from now on? He could swear he'd lose on purpose or not, and Dumbledore would still get his useless First Order of Merlin… and this idea was terrible because it was incredibly suspicious and everyone would think he was up to something sinister.

He didn't want to use that blasted wand in his coat pocket for Merlin's sake!

Dumbledore, as expected, narrowed his eyes at that unlikely claim, and asked calmly, "What are you trying to do, Grindelwald?"

Trying not to burn 50 acres of grass this time around. No—

"I am trying to give you a choice, Dumbledore."

"We can either engage in an intense duel where potentially one of us loses his life… I can assure you it will not be pleasant for your beloved England should I come out victorious," he briefly smirked as he continued on, "Or we, including those incompetent ministry officials, can make some negotiations over the Statute of Secrecy and certain wizarding laws over tea. Of course, to express my sincerity, I am willing to make some concessions accompanied with an unbreakable vow."

Dumbledore opened his mouth slightly and stared in disbelief.

Grindelwald knew what he was feeling. Ha, Grindelwald making concessions? Nonsense, has the world come to an end?

Grindelwald didn't know if the world was coming to an end, but he did know that if things went the same way as they did last time, he might as well save everyone some time and directly off himself.

So, Dumbledore, are you willing to give me a second chance to make things right?