The others had chosen him over Hermione, but he wasn't blind to their looks and probing glances. Every day when he he ignored her, they would share these indecipherable, visual conversations and he couldn't help but feel that everyone was laughing at him, as though his behaviour was unreasonable.
Perhaps he was being a little unreasonable, but it was hardly their place to judge him. He was the only one who knew the situation, with the exception of Hermione and his mother, who continued to keep their big secret.
He tried to continue as he had before he met Hermione, only he couldn't really remember how he had managed before her. Classes were boring, after classes were empty and the morning was tedious. Homework was easy and uninspiring and the comments from the tutors disappeared from his work - it wasn't as easy to come up with good points when he didn't have stimulating conversation as he was working.
He dedicated himself to doing better, determined to prove to Hermione that she needed him as both a powerful wizard and her only connection to the wizarding world but she just responded in kind. He worked as hard as he could, and she worked harder. Her essays were longer and more detailed, her understanding better, her progress impossibly fast. He was hardly stupid, but he couldn't understand how she had the sheer time to do that much research and practice each day, not with their already full schedules, not to mention her obsessive grooming of Katana - that animal practically glowed and Kelpie was beginning to get jealous and nippy.
He didn't regret inviting her into the family, he knew his duty and he couldn't help but be reluctantly impressed by her fervour but he resented her seemingly easy ability to trounce him. He almost feared that one day, his friends might follow her lead than his.
His mother called him in for his first meeting since the appearance of Livius Lucan. She looked strange in her battle dress; he'd never seen her in it. She seemed distracted, her eyes constantly flicking to an Iris' Rainbow, glittering in it's ornate crystal vial on the desk. She was silent as she tore herself away from the artefact for long enough to peruse a parchment that he assumed held remarks from his tutors.
'You are doing well. Hermione's competition seems to be beneficial.' He hoped he imagined the tenderness with which she said her name, certain his own had never been said with anything less than a snap.
'She would have been a valuable addition to our family name.' He managed tersely, hoping that somehow his mother had construed that as polite.
'Would have been?' She demanded sharply, the Iris' Rainbow finally forgotten as she fixed him with the full force of her stare.
'Hermione says she is to marry a British wizard.'
'She is.' Then, for the first time her eyes softened and her voice changed from that of a general commanding her soldier to that which he imagined of a mother. 'Gellert, you are young still. There will be other girls, I am certain of it.'
Traitorous burning began along his bottom eyelids and he glared at the ceiling. Grindelwalds did not cry.
'I don't understand. She is perfect.'
'She is, but there are other things at play. Things greater than us. Hermione is a blessing to this family, perhaps from magic itself. She is not able to marry you, the magic which brings her here will prevent it.'
'The magic that brings her here?' He said stupidly, then almost kicked himself. His mother hated stupidness and this uncharacteristic softness would be gone in an instant.
'Yes, a magic greater than anything I have ever seen before. We get to bring Hermione into our family, we get to raise her, teach her but unfortunately, you can never marry her.' His mother said gently. Gellert didn't understand but it sounded like his mother didn't completely either. 'I would hope, perhaps, that you will love her as a sister instead.' His mother finished gently.
He left with questions spinning though his mind, finding somewhere secluded to sit and think. His mother had said even she didn't understand the magic that brought Hermione here, and if his mother didn't understand it... there was almost nothing his mother didn't understand.
It could be dark magic, so incredibly dark that his mother had never even heard a whisper of the possibility but Hermione was not a dark witch by any means. She'd cried when they'd gone to pick the bull for Samhain.
There weren't many other forms of magic beyond his mother's grasp... unless... the Fey, elusive and powerful beings that were only rumoured to exist. Morgana was said to be Fay, which is why she was such a difficult spirit to speak to. Could Hermione be Fay, that might limit who she could marry. The fairytales that spoke of Fey were fantastical as best and most non-fiction was merely speculative. They were a humanoid species, some people said it was they who gifted witches and wizards with their power, others believed they were a higher entity, perhaps those whom the muggles had based their gods around. There were also theories that said they were a different species, related to Veela and house elves, capable of their own powerful magic but unlike elves, with the wherewithal to wield it themselves. Gellert had never paid them much attention beyond their existence as elusive yet immensely powerful beings who rarely paid attention to the affairs of men and wixen.
Yet that theory would explain a lot, if Hermione really was in some way related to the fey. He doubted she was fey herself unless they truly were closer to humans than anyone had really believed, but she could be descended from one. Her anomalous power, her seeming disregard for wards and natural affinity for magic. It would also explain why she couldn't marry him, if she was truly related to the fey there would be rules and conditions he couldn't even begin to comprehend.
His behaviour suddenly seemed rather terrible. If he looked back on that conversation over Ostara now, he could clearly see her anguish - how reluctant she was to have to tell him that. She hadn't wanted to lead him on, she had been trying to let him down easily. He could have kicked himself for reacting so badly.
He jumped to his feet, determined to find her and repair their friendship. His mother was right, they were blessed to have her in whatever capacity they could - sister, husband or friend.
She wasn't in her room or the library, nor had Berg seen her. Berg asked Neele who hadn't seen her either. He checked the library and her room again in case he'd missed her, then the common room and finally the stables.
She'd done a lot of work on Katana's stall since Christmas, but it quickly became evident that she wasn't here either. Nor was the Longma.
Cold fear began to trickle into his stomach as he searched all their favourite spots, but he really knew she wouldn't be here. What could have possessed her to take Longma outside the grounds now, when everything was so dangerous. The castle was locked down for a reason, she knew that, everyone knew that.
The guard at the dragon wing gates startled when he arrived, comfortable and lax behind the iron wards of the building. It was a bad sign. The ministry official blathered and stuttered when Gellert demanded to know if anyone had left - plenty of people had apparently, so specified if anyone had left on a Longma.
He didn't even seem to know what a Longma was. Gellert described it as though speaking to a 4 year old.
'Oh, the blue dragon-horse!' The man realised, as though Gellert should have just said that earlier. He rolled his eyes. 'Yeah, came through earlier with a girl.'
Gellert's heart sunk.
'And you let her go.' He bit out.
'Yeah, orders were to stop anyone getting in, not stop them getting out.' The man replied, sounding surly.
'You let an unaccompanied child leave the castle.'
The wizard turned slightly pink, seeming to realise the decision perhaps might have been foolish. Gellert sighed and hurried up to the castle. His mother would be furious, but Hermione was in danger, he would have to get them to send a search party.
He burst into the South Tower, doors banging open, to find it almost deserted. There was not a single coven member present.
'Where are they?' He demanded of the first khaki clad official he came across.
'Left not five minutes ago; there was a sighting of Lucan's zombies in Munich.' Fear froze his insides. He was willing to bet that inferi was a decoy and the real Lucan was actually here ready to take Hermione.
'Quick, get me a duellist. Lady Grindelwald's daughter has been taken from the castle. We need to find her.' He snapped. The official paled, then hurried over to the table. Within moments, the murmur was moving through those gathered, that Lucan had gotten his hands on one of the coven children. Gellert prayed to any deity that might exist that Hermione was alright, and that his mother wouldn't be too angry when she was found wandering. He forced aside that niggling fear that Hermione knew better than to leave the castle, and that she was already in trouble if she'd left.
He itched where he stood as the situation was discussed. They couldn't contact the coven, so a party of the six best duellists was formed and just as the sun began to set, they left the gates.