A/N: Okay, random babble from me before you can read. ^_^ Once again, I am too lazy to do the individual thing, so I will just tackle some of the things brought up in your reactions to the last chapter. Yes, Delacour is a player. Aeryn, you were almost right as far as what he said, and it may have turned into that when I translated it. Anyway, what it's supposed to say is, "A veela is nice, but sometimes, a man longs for the company of a real woman." *shakes fist at Delacour* The big jerk. We should chop him into tiny pieces and bury him in the wall. Or better yet, why don't we make him next on Grindelwald's hit list? ^_^ Actually, Grindelwald's hit list is pretty full right now, as you will probably find out... but anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter, and have a good day.

Why are you still reading this?
~~~

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: A GLIMPSE OF DESTINY

~~~

While Albus Dumbledore nearly went crazy from pain, on the other side of the ocean, Quinn Grindelwald was walking down one of the hallways of the school with the Arithmancy instructor, head of Ravenclaw house, and deputy headmistress, Rachel Revueltas. They had just broken up an unauthorized duel between a third-year Gryffindor, Lyle Weasley, and a fifth-year Slytherin, Horatio Malfoy. Rachel was slightly irritated with Grindelwald; when they arrived on the scene, he didn't seem quite so concerned when he saw that a Slytherin student was involved, and when he saw it was Malfoy, the punishment became even less. The two boys were given a warning for the duel and five points from both of their houses for being out of bed after hours. Rachel was not a fan of favoritism. She knew that if there had not been a student from Slytherin house, they would have been punished severely for their acts.

"Oh, lighten up, Rachel," Grindelwald said, noticing that she had an angry air about her. "Nothing happened."

"That's not the point, Quinn," she replied. "Something could have happened, and they're only lucky we got there in time to stop it. Do you remember what happened the last time two students dueled? Carl Longbottom was halfway transfigured into a kangaroo, and we had to interrupt Professor Dumbledore's class to change him back! And you know how Albus teaches; he likes to get the students involved, and so he let Minerva McGonagall change him back! Granted, she was his star student, and I have the highest opinion of both of them, but still... the duel shouldn't have happened in the first place, and do you notice how it's almost always Gryffindors and Slytherins? I telll you, Quinn, you won't ever catch a student of my house duelling!"

"The operative word in that sentence being 'catch'?" Grindelwald asked with a mischievous smile.

Rachel wasn't in the mood for humor. "That wasn't funny. What if one of them was transformed into a wombat or some other Australian marsupial?"

"Wombats are marsupials?"

"Yes, they are."

"Oh. Well, then we wound simply change him back. Just because the rest of us don't teach Transfiguration does not mean we are inadept at it. Armando was an Animagus, and he always taught Potions."

Rachel's expression suddenly went from angry to very sad, and she stopped walking.

Grindelwald noticed her change in mood. He stopped walking, too, and his joking demeanor vanished. "Rachel," he said softly, "it's been months. Armando's dead. He's not coming back. We have to move on with our lives."

"He's not just dead, Quinn," Rachel said. The tremble in both her voice and her body indicated that she was scared. "He was savagely murdered, and his killer is still roaming free. How can you take this so lightly when you could very well be next?"

"The only person that has been giving us problems since... the incident has been Noah McCarthy. He was trying to pin the blame on Albus, and that was only because he thought the Minerva thing looked too suspicious for him to not be considered," Grindelwald replied. "It was probably just some passing rogue who was in the mood for shedding blood and has since moved on to a different area."

She shook her head. "I don't think so. Whoever killed Armando obviously put a lot of thought into it. I mean, think about it. The killer sent you his head and Minerva McGonagall his heart. I doubt that was random. And how else could he have gotten up there without a password, anyway? I know the castle is more secure than that. There has to be an insider... but who?"

"Nothing has happened in months. I think we're safe."

"Until the killer is caught, no one is safe."

"Nothing can bring Armando back, Rachel. Obsessing over his death will accomplish nothing."

Rachel wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and said, "I miss him so much."

Grindelwald put his arms around her and hugged her tightly. "We all do," he said. "Not a day goes by when I don't think of him."

She returned her friend's embrace. "Don't let anything happen to you, Quinn."

"I'll do my best."

As they let go of each other, Grindelwald let a small glass vial holding traces of red liquid slip into her pocket. "Get some sleep, Rache," he said. "We'll talk more in the morning."

"If I'm not mistaken, I believe it already is morning."

He almost laughed. "You know what I mean."

~~~

Within an hour after the ball was over, Winston Churchill, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and everyone else that had come over with them were flying over the Atlantic. The original plan had been to stay overnight and fly back in the morning, but Churchill wanted to get back as soon as possible, and with Dumbledore's sudden premonition of danger, the Prime Minister insisted that they return at once. The importance of thwarting a foe, known or otherwise, outweighed the annoyance of jet lag.

Dumbledore had given up on trying to sleep. His body was exhausted, but his mind had far too much on it to even consider resting. He knew that there was something going on at Hogwarts, but what worried him almost as much as that was how and why he knew. He had never been much of a believer in fate, but now...

Next to him, with her head on his shoulder, was Minerva, who appeared to be asleep, but he didn't think she was. His suspicions were confirmed when she lifted up her head and asked him a question. "Are you all right?"

"You couldn't sleep, either?"

She shook her head. "No. What's going on?"

A look of surprise crossed Dumbledore's face, and he said teasingly, "Minerva McGonagall, did you just end a sentence with a preposition?"

"Rats. Caught in my own trap. Let me restate that. What's on your mind?"

"Do you believe in Divination?"

Her face twisted into a grimace, and Dumbledore said, "I'll take that as a no."

"Very much a no," Minerva replied, "but out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

"I can see why you would be skeptical about Divination, seeing as Theodore Chaplain was your instructor," he said. "I know Chaplain tries and that he means well, but he is not a true Seer. True Seers are extremely rare; even more so than Animagi. I had the privilege of studying under one during my time as a student at Hogwarts."

"Which one?" she asked. "A Seer or an Animagus?"

"Actually, now that I think about it, he was both," he answered. "But anyway, after class one day, Professor Liem pulled me aside and told me something that I had all but forgotten until tonight. He told me that someday, I would be called to protect Hogwarts from a great evil, and that I would receive signs that the evil was coming. When it felt like my brain was exploding at the ball, I began thinking about his prophecy, and I can't help but wonder... is now that time?"

"Are you sure he was a true Seer?"

"He guessed my middle name on the first try, and he had no way of finding out beforehand," Dumbledore said. "After that, I was convinced."

Minerva almost chuckled. "That would probably convince me, too. Any idea as to what this 'evil' might be?"

He shook his head. "Not at all. That's the thing with Divination. It rarely explains things in details. It just suggests that things are coming, and it can usually get the nature of the thing. That's about it."

She sighed softly. "Well, I still think it's a waste of time for the billions of us who lack the natural gifts. Why isn't there a class for studying to become Animagi?"

"Because so few people have the natural ability," Dumbledore said, catching on to where she was going with this.

"Exactly," she said. "It would be a waste of time. So why is there a Divination class if there are fewer experts in Divination than Animagi?"

"You're right; it is a waste of time, but just the same... there's always that one in a million, and when you find that one, everything leading up to it was worth it," he said, and kissed her on the forehead.

She smiled. "That has absolutely nothing to do with Divination."

"True, but you have to admit, it was a good way to change the subject."

"Well, next time you want to change the subject, just say something. Observe." She cleared her throat, and then said, "What did Jean-Pierre Delacour say to me that you, Prime Minister Churchill, and General Eisenhower all refused to translate?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

"Yes, I do," she insisted. "Tell me."

He sighed. "Fine," he said, and whispered the translation into her ear.

Minerva suddenly turned as pale as a ghost. "You're right, I didn't want to know." The color came back to her face, and she pointed her finger at him and said, "And don't you dare say I told you so."

He let out a soft chuckle. "You know I'm thinking it, so why not say it anyway?"

"Because... because..." She couldn't think of a good reason. "Oh, just say it."

"I told you so."

"Well, if you're going to say it, at least say it like you mean it."

"I told you so," he said with a little more feeling. "Moving on. I propose a change of subject." That wasn't all he wanted to propose, but thirty thousand feet over the Atlantic Ocean at such an ungodly hour was hardly the time to do it.

"To what?" Minerva asked.

He shrugged. "Anything you would care to discuss?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

Suddenly, he flinched.

Minerva nearly jumped. "Are you all right?" she asked, taking his hand in one of hers and placing the other on his shoulder.

"You're two inches away from me. Of course I'm all right."

"That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?"

"You know what I mean!"

"Do I?"

"Albus Dumbledore, would you put your wit away for one second?"

"Starting when?"

She sighed. "I give up."

He kissed her on the cheek and said, "Is it time for another change of subject?"

"Cabbage leaves. That's all I have to say to you."

"Good, because I was tired of talking, too."

Minerva smiled, shook her head, and leaned forward and kissed him. "So if we had kept talking for say, another half minute or so, do you think I would have won?"

"Probably," he said, and returned the kiss with one of his own.

"I thought we were done talking."

"We are."

Across the aisle, Winston Churchill opened one eye and saw them. "Lovebirds," he muttered to himself, and then smiled and went back to sleep.

~~~

Rachel Revueltas and Quinn Grindelwald did end up talking in the morning; morning as being judged by the rising of the sun and not the time indicated by a clock. Since becoming headmaster, Grindelwald found himself spending a lot more time with the woman who inherited his former position of deputy head. That didn't surprise him, but something else did - that he was actually starting to enjoy her company. He and Rachel had always been on friendly terms; the fact that they were closer in age to each other than any other staff members (he was forty-two, she was forty) didn't hurt. Perhaps, if things had been different... He pushed all those thoughts aside. Even if he wanted to, he was so deep into his plans that there was no way to get out, and he needed her to make everything run smoothly for him. Besides, he saw no reason to pursue Rachel Revueltas when he was so close to Minerva McGonagall. Just a few more weeks...

After nearly half an hour of friendly conversation, Rachel said, "You probably have a lot to do, so I suppose I should leave you alone for a while."

"Yes, I do," he confirmed. He did have a lot to do, but it wasn't what she was thinking. "Thank you for the conversation, Rachel. Feel free to stop by any time you wish."

"Be careful what you say, Quinn. I may just take you up on that."

Grindelwald smiled. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

He offered to walk her to the door, and she accepted. "See you later, Quinn," she said.

"Good-bye, Rachel," he returned. When she was gone, he added, "I won't be around to say that later."

He then pulled out his wand and pointed it at himself.

~~~

As Rachel emerged from behind the statue of the gargoyle, she saw someone coming in her direction. It was Jennifer Hensley, the one who had taken over as Charms instructor when Grindelwald assumed the position of headmaster following Armando Dippet's death. Jennifer's arms were full of books, and she looked like she was in a hurry. "Is everything all right, Jennifer?" Rachel asked.

Jennifer nodded. "Yes; I just need to speak to Quinn. There's this one charm I can't seem to get, and I have to teach it to the seventh-years tomorrow."

"Well, in that case, he's the one to see," Rachel said. "Go on up. I just talked to him; he's in there."

"Thank you," Jennifer said, and turned to the gargoyle. "Birdseed."

The gargoyle slid to the side, and Jennifer began climbing the stairs that led to the headmaster's office. The going was slow due to her heavy load, and by the time she reached the top, she was almost out of breath. She did, however, have enough breath left to let out a bloodcurdling scream of horror when she opened the door to Grindelwald's office and saw what was inside.

~~~

Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall arrived at Hogwarts late that afternoon. Neither one had been able to sleep well on the plane, and travelling all night was tiring and changing time zones was bad enough. They were so exhausted they could barely think straight. That was why they thought they were seeing things when they returned to the school and found the entire place crawling with Aurors.

When they came into the entrance hall, they were immediately met by two Aurors. "Identify yourselves," one of them said, pointing his wand at them. "State your name and your reason for being here."

Dumbledore looked at Minerva, who looked just as confused as he did. "I'm Albus Dumbledore, and this is Minerva McGonagall," he said. "We're teachers."

The second Auror stepped forward, and Minerva recognized him - it was Alastor Moody, the finest Auror the Ministry ever had. "I'll take it from here, Vince," Moody said to the first Auror. Vince excused himself, and Moody turned to the two puzzled teachers. "Come with me."

He led them to the Great Hall, where all the students and faculty were assembled. Every single one of them looked devastated and terrified. "What's going on, Alastor?" Minerva asked her old friend.

Moody was about to explain, but he was interrupted when Rachel Revueltas, who was bordering on hysteria, came up to them. "Albus! Minerva!" she exclaimed. "You have no idea how good it is to see you alive!"

"What's going on, Rachel?" Dumbledore asked.

Another Auror came up to Moody and whispered something in his ear. "Excuse me," he said, and then left their company.

"It's happening again," Rachel said.

"What's happening?" Minerva asked.

Rachel was too distraught to reply.

"Rachel," Dumbledore said, "what happened?"

"It's horrible," she said in a choked whisper.

At that moment, Noah McCarthy, flanked by two different Aurors, came walking up to them. "Empty your pockets, please, all three of you," McCarthy said.

They did as they were told. Rachel was surprised to discover a glass vial with a few drops of red liquid in it in her pocket. "What the..." she said, too shocked to say anything coherent.

"That's enough evidence for me," McCarthy said. "Combined with Professor Hensley's testimony, I don't think there can be any doubt now." He nodded to the Aurors, and each of them seized one of Rachel's arms. "Rachel Revueltas, you are under arrest for the murder of Quinn Grindelwald."