Grindelwald looked in the mirror as he fixed up his clothes.
Should he go for the black tie with the red diamonds or the purple flowers?
Dumbledore liked purple right? He held the tie in his hands and choked it around his neck. Then he contemplated for a moment and conjured a purple flower in his breast pocket to go along with his outfit.
There. That should do nicely.
He was decked out in his best tuxedo with his hair combed nicely to the side. There was never a moment more than now did Grindelwald feel so grateful to have hair.
Then he glanced at his pocket watch. It was around 5:30, but he should get there a bit early, just in case Dumbledore drugged his tea.
He disapparated, and walked out from a dark alley around the corner of the restaurant.
The busy streets of Soho, London, immediately flooded his view. But the memories paralyzed him in his tracks more than anything else. How long has it been since he saw such a sight in person? It all seemed very foreign to him now, even if he did remember what the place looked like.
Grindelwald stared at the building in silence, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dumbledore looking down towards him from the 2nd floor window.
!
He almost dropped his suitcase.
Always a step ahead of me, aren't you?
He crossed the street as if someone was chasing him, and walked into the building. There, he was greeted by a smiling waitress.
"Welcome to Valor's, do you have a reservation?"
"No, but I am waiting for someone by the name of Albus Dumbledore. He reserved a table I believe?"
"Ah, yes, your companion is already here, sir. Second floor, Room 3 on the left. We hope you enjoy your stay."
"Yes, thank you," he gruffly replied.
Grindelwald strode up the stairs, turned left, and stopped. Lo and behold, he found the room with the giant black 3 plastered there ominously. He started adjusting his tie and hair, but for some reason, he couldn't move an inch forward.
Dumbledore wouldn't have prepared a group of people to ambush him, would he? He could completely imagine that the minute he entered the room, he would be whisked away by a portkey to a place where a circle of aurors stood ready to take him down.
He shook his head. That just wasn't his style.
"Come in."
Grindelwald froze at the sound of Dumbledore's voice, and tried to calm his rapidly beating heart.
This was going to be difficult.
He straightened his tie once more, and then pressed down the door handle.
Dumbledore furtively glanced sideways towards him, and put down the muggle newspaper he was reading on the table. He looked rather tired today… probably from dealing with the mess he left behind. He would also have to deal with it later when he addressed his followers.
Grindelwald put on a faint smile and entered the battlefield.
"I thought you said you didn't have any regular haunts?"
"..."
Remember, silence is golden.
Grindelwald tried to set the flower in front of Dumbledore as suavely as he could.
"I simply chose a location you and I would be both familiar with," Dumbledore flatly replied as he ignored the flower blossom.
"And where is Newt?" he asked as he glanced towards the suitcase Grindelwald was holding.
Grindelwald reluctantly put the suitcase on the table, took his seat on the table across from him, and answered, "Inside."
Dumbledore looked at him disapprovingly as he set the suitcase on the ground, and unlocked it. Grindelwald stayed silent as he watched Newt Salamander struggle to climb out of the suitcase covered in what apparently looked like some magical creature's saliva.
"Albus!" Scamander jumped up in fright as he looked up to see Dumbledore and fell down on his bottom. He then stared in confusion between Dumbledore and Grindelwald.
Grindelwald snorted.
Dumbledore stared blankly at Grindelwald, and Grindelwald looked away. Dumbledore waved his wand and cleaned up the mess on Scamander's body. He then patted his hands on his shoulders and said affectionately, "I'm glad you're alright, Newt."
"Ah yes, Albus, may I ask what exactly is going on here?" he questioned as he looked guardedly at Grindelwald.
"Nothing you should know, Mr. Scamander," Grindelwald cut in, "You may leave now. I'm sure Mrs. Scamander misses you dearly."
Dumbledore ignored his remarks and said, "Newt, Grindelwald and I will reach a consensus tonight regarding his acolytes and the war."
"He's here to..." Dumbledore looked at Grindelwald hesitantly, and opened his mouth, but found that he could not sound out the words he wished to speak.
Grindelwald detected Dumbledore's uncertainty and continued for him, "I'm here to discuss the cessation of war and make amends."
Dumbledore seemed to find strength in his words, and nodded, "Yes, and I hope that Newt, you can help us come to an agreement..."
"Through helping us make an unbreakable vow."
Grindelwald sighed.
Albus Dumbledore offered helpfully, "Tea?"
Drug me all you want. Truth serums wouldn't work.
And truthfully he wanted to be drugged, if only to temporarily escape the ridiculous circumstances he was in right now.
He took a long sip of that black tea, which tasted like burnt charcoal.
Figures, nothing Dumbledore gives him is ever sweet.
"Will you speak the truth and only the truth for the duration of this meeting?"
"I will."
"Will you answer all of the questions I have during this meeting?"
"I will."
"Will you not attempt to leave prematurely or harm anyone within these premises?"
"... I will."
Looked like his portkeys were useless now. What's the worst that could happen? He'd be carted off to Azkaban or Nurmengard?
Dumbledore looked satisfied while Grindelwald slumped back down on his seat.
"What is your name?"
"Gellert Grindelwald."
"Residence?"
"Nurmengard, Austria."
"Gender?"
"Male."
"Height?"
"178 cm."
"Age?"
"I don't know."
"..."
Albus Dumbledore's eyes glinted strangely, and Newt Scamander's bread dropped from his mouth onto the floor.
Grindelwald himself was also speechless for a moment before seethingly grounding out the words, "...Compulsion potion?"
Dumbledore nodded, "5 drops in the tea."
Boy this was going to be a long night.
"If you want to know, then probably around 115. I don't know. It doesn't matter."
Grindelwald decided to take the initiative. Who knew how many more secrets he would inadvertently blurt out at this rate?
"As you may already know, I am Gellert Grindelwald of a different timeline, and thankfully, one that has alternative views to many things than that of the Gellert Grindelwald of this timeline."
Newt made a small gasp of surprise, while Dumbledore was careful not to show his feelings on his face. A small twitch around Dumbledore's lips betrayed him, and Grindelwald was pleased to see he could still affect Dumbledore—
"I do believe I have the memories of the previous version of myself, or at least most of them from the moment I've arrived in this timeline. Contrary to what you may think, I do not know how I have arrived to this timeline nor do I have a particular wish to know… what my other self has managed to further botch up."
Grindelwald would have to find out, and carefully note any changes that he may have already influenced even if it had only been a day.
"But since I have come to possess this body, I hope to make some amends for what the previous Grindelwald had afflicted upon the wizarding world… and the muggle world as well."
He paused for a moment, and continued, "That includes disbanding my—his following."
Grindelwald saw a twinkle fly across the blue of Dumblefore's eyes — clear as a summer sky. He couldn't make sense of the expression on Dumbledore's face anymore, and his heart started palpitating slightly faster — ugh, he needed to look away right now.
On the other hand, Newt Scamander, as per his usual idiot self, looked like he just saw Merlin sprung up from his grave.
Grindelwald's lips curled in irritation, "Is there something strange about this, Mr. Scamander?"
"N-no, it's just that I never thought you would admit you were wrong!"
Grindelwald sucked in a large breath of air to placate himself.
You should have been a Gryffindor.
Albus Dumbledore asked, "What were you doing in your own timeline right before you arrived in this timeline?"
I'm sure you'd rather not know.
Grindelwald replied emotionlessly, "I died."
"How?"
"I was killed by a dark wizard who was trying to take over England."
"Not myself, naturally," he added quickly.
...
The room was silent until Newt Scamander burst into laughter while desperately trying to muffle the sounds on his coat.
Grindelwald pretended Scamander was invisible. The weather outside was certainly beautiful today. No wait, it was night already?
Dumbledore looked uncomfortable before asking, "... Why?"
Because I wanted him to.
Grindelwald rolled his eyes before replying, "Because I mocked him and predicted he would be a loser, which I can assure you, he is."
"And where… where was I?"
"..."
You?
You were dead. You plotted your own death. You freaking martyr.
You left your students and I to deal with the aftermath. How dare you cheapen your life like this. What gave you the right to sacrifice the life that even I didn't dare to take!
What gave you the right to think of your life so lightly?
A thousand words choked within Grindelwald's throat. He knew this question was coming. He knew it, so why...
Albus Dumbledore is dead.
My Albus is dead.
And I couldn't do anything to stop it.
Over the long years that Grindelwald spent in prison, he had pondered over the events of his life and his actions repeatedly, unceasingly.
Muggles and their technologies are threats to wizardkind.
They need to be subjugated.
Force is a necessity to exact the changes he desires.
Sacrifices were to be made in the makings of history.
It was how it had always been.
What he had been doing was for the future of wizardkind, for the Greater Good.
He had repeated this mantra of thoughts over and over in his head. He used to repeat this to his followers as well. But no matter how much he thought about it, he wasn't sure whether he had been trying to convince his followers… or himself.
Sometimes, he would think back to them sometimes.
The children swept up in the war.
The bewildered muggles who tried to protect their families in the midst of the chaos.
His supporters who died defending their beliefs.
Even the idiot aurors who thought they were doing their duties and died because of it.
If he had gone about a more peaceful way of amassing his power, would things have gone differently?
And Albus Dumbledore, the one who he had accused of abandoning their dreams, would he have supported him if he had?
Regret seeped through his soul bit by bit the same way wine grew richer as it aged.
However, in all honesty, Gellert Grindelwald knew himself to be a cold man. His regret was mostly geared towards Albus. He wasn't sure if he wouldn't do the same things he's done this time around if he had a second chance because his desires and ambitions were stronger than any sentimental feelings he might have had towards those who died.
He knew those feelings of regret only surfaced because he had failed.
Then Albus Dumbledore died. For the Greater Good.
He saw everything he didn't want to see through his cursed ability. Those dreams haunted his sleep every night.
Haha. What sacrifice is needed for the Greater Good? What bullshit!
Albus Dumbledore should've died of old age, on a large comfortable 4 poster bed surrounded by his friends and his loved ones. He would have a satisfied smile as he passed away without any pain.
He shouldn't have died like that. He shouldn't have...
So this is what they felt like when they lost the people they loved to me.
I finally understand now.
He always thought he understood, but he never really did understand until now, did he?
Until someone did the same things he had done to others to him. Until someone else took away the life of the person he —
All in the name of the Greater Good?
He hates those words now.
Sacrifice. If anyone that should've been sacrificed, it was himself.
But Albus died in the name of sacrifice instead.
Just the mere thought of this is unbearable.
Grindelwald started laughing at his own ludicrous thoughts. He hunched over and covered his mouth as he laughed, muffling the strange sounds that came out of his mouth. How ironic. That he out of all people could not bear such a thing. Hypocrite.
Albus Dumbledore and Newt Scamander watched him silently.
After a few moments, Dumbledore hesitantly asked, "... Did I die… by your hands?"
Grindelwald abruptly stopped laughing and whipped his head upwards, eyes blazing with anger and pain as he spoke, "You think I...?"
He leaned back in his seat and looked up where an elegant lamp hung down from the ceiling. So bright. But that light isn't enough to illuminate even the smallest corner of Grindelwald's life. Because everything to him now was still as dark as that day in 1997.
Then Grindelwald mockingly smiled to himself.
"Ah I forgot, we're… enemies aren't we?"
