Gellert was pulled from his cell in the earliest hours of the morning, long before the sun had even risen. They dressed him in a new set of dress robes and he realised that they were very conspicuous emblazoned with the Grindelwald family crest in dark blue. Then he was shackled and tossed into what he was beginning to rename the conference room.
His hands were chained to the chair again, wrinkling the robes they'd just put him in.
'What's happening?' He demanded, staring at the figure in the window. Anneken was also dressed to the nines and her clothing was far too severe to be everyday wear.
'Your ward has been summoned to appear before the wizengamot.' She informed him. 'Hermione says - and I quote her - get my brother to scare them off me.'
'Why.' Gellert demanded, manacled hands clenching around the table with enough pressure to hurt his own fingers.
'She's being accused of attacking Azkaban prison, and releasing two maximum security prisoners.'
'Did she?' Gellert demanded, already casting the host of wandless hygiene spells that he'd spent the past year working on.
'No. She was in court, challenging Dumbledore for the Grindelwald ring.' Anneken scoffed, pulling out her wand and waving it over him. He felt the gentle brush of her much more powerful charms and when he glanced down at his hands, his skin was scoured clean and even his nails were freshly trimmed. 'However, it was a lightning storm that caused all the disruption and her magical signature is all over it. Not to mention she visited one of the escaped prisoners over Yule.'
'Suspicious, but a court appearance is a pretty solid alibi.' Gellert pondered, then fell silent and a sour looking man appeared with a briefcase. It landed on the table with a heavy clunk and when he clicked it open with a tap of his wand, Gellert saw a veritable jewellery box full of bracelets and bangles.
The first to go on were magic suppressants, followed by a nasty one that the man gleefully demonstrated carried a nasty shock if he dared to try magic and another that could would paralyse him if he tried to run and a tracking collar and... He didn't bother to listen because he had no intent to run. As with the Flamel's funeral, he was more interested in seeing Hermione.
When the man was done, he closed the briefcase with a snap and Gellert was finally released from the dark manacles that bound him to the chair. No less than six aurors, dressed in the colours of his personal guards and each meanly scarred marched into the rooms. He put his hands up mockingly, sliding into position between the middle two. His efforts earned him sneers.
Anneken's heels clacked behind him and his mind flew with possibilities as they made their way down the endless flights of stairs to the waiting carriage. It had been magically expanded - enough for all nine of them to fit comfortably as an eighth set of aurors drove.
Not once did the six wands waver from him, but he forced himself to relax in a way that he knew unnerved everyone.
'Should I cut my hair?' He asked Anneken. She sniffed irritably, turning aside quickly so that he barely caught a glimpse of her smile.
The robes were one of her designs, he knew. Nobody else would have the skill to cut it exactly to his size and fitted to flatter but somehow bulky enough to conceal all the various restraints that he wore.
They were silent for a little longer. The aurors shifted so that a fresh pair pointed their wands at him instead.
'What runic language are the Nurmengard wards built in?' The man with the briefcase asked casually. Gellert raised a single eyebrow at him.
'Ogham and Futhark.' He replied shortly, unable to work out how that would cause problems later on.
'And this ward of yours understands them, despite having not yet learned them at school?' He asked sceptically. Gellert sighed in realisation.
'Albus kept the ring because he couldn't figure it out.' He almost laughed. 'Hermione is rather brilliant. She was fluent in both runic languages before she began school and I believe she still keeps all of her research notes in Ogham because she doesn't want anyone cheating off her.'
The man blinked several times.
'Yet you allowed her to take runes at school? Would she not have been better served taking divination?' The man demanded.
'Far be it from me to tell her what to do.' He laughed at the man's confusion and they lapsed into silence again. He supposed that to people that didn't understand their relationship, they would expect him to be a terrifying, controlling dark wizard with no qualms about forcing his ward into line. That was the character that he had presented to the world. Anneken had told him that Hermione wanted him to scare off the ministry - what would scare them more than learning that he adored her with every cell of his black heart. His followers had been disposable and everyone had known that; he made sacrifices for the greater good and he didn't want anyone under the impression that he would ever sacrifice her like had had done with his followers. The aurors changed again, shifting around him.
'So it's not your influence which has her making Dumbledore's life difficult?' The man asked eventually and Gellert grinned, exposing freshly whitened teeth.
'No. Hermione made that decision all on her own.' He said proudly. Hermione had pitted herself against Dumbledore long before he'd known of the man's existence. Although, when he really thought about it, Dumbledore had pitted himself against Hermione because he hated Gellert, but Gellert had only ended up with Dumbledore as a rival because of Hermione's animosity... it gave him a mild headache just trying to wrap his head around it all.
They landed on the roof of a large abandoned warehouse in London. The city was barely recognisable as the one had had once visited. The thick smog that had always shrouded the grand spires and towers was gone, allowing a crystalline sunrise to light colossal towers of glass and concrete with golden fire. Buildings which had once seemed grand cowered beneath hulking monoliths and the droning muggle vehicles moved in constant, sparkling streams.
The aurors tugged him across the roof, breaking his observation and shoving him into an elevator. He allowed himself to be manhandled down into the depths off the earth.
'The trial has probably already begun. Hermione knew that she would be a suspect and that they were likely to have her interrogated so she asked me to have the paperwork ready. They only notified her last night, and I assume they're holding it this early in the hopes that you wouldn't be able to make an appearance. They did the same with her visit to Azkaban.' Anneken explained as he was marched down a dark corridor towards a pair of massive doors.
He could feel her - burning fire and wild wind just beyond the doors. Dumbledore, sickeningly bright and molten gold, bound to the throbbing power of the Elder Wand was also present, as was a multitude of other wixen.
The doors opened at his approach, grating across the sandy arena floor to allow him a view of the Wizangamot and a packed press section. He had eyes only for Hermione - dressed like a queen, dark hair tumbling down the back of the heavy chair. Every eye turned in his direction as they entered, the aurors that flanked him peeling out around the arena so that he was encircled but still free to move.
Hermione looked at him; she was young still, her eyes alive and burning with every ember of the fire he remembered. He crossed the room in a couple of long strides and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her small body up from the chair and into him. Uncaring of the reactions of the wixen around them, he spun her around as he always had after a period of separation.
'Gellert!' She exclaimed, a tumbling mix of emotions in her single word greeting. 'Gellert!' She repeated again, more insistently.
He put her down and stepped back, meeting her eyes. She was uncertain and more than a little afraid of him, which twisted something painfully deep inside of him. He scrambled for a way to reassure her; something that the old him would have done.
'We're in front of the Wizangamot.' Hermione reminded him with a hiss. He looked up the plum-robed figures who cowered when they met his gaze, then he glared over at Anneken who had taken a seat in the witness stand on the opposite side of the room. The press above her were busily scribbling in their notebooks.
He looked back at Hermione.
'What do you need from me?' He deferred, falling into the anonymity provided by his native tongue. It was unlikely that anyone who spoke that language would overhear them.
'I needed you to be here to remind them of the consequences of accusing me. I don't want them looking into me or what I'm doing.' She scowled up at Albus Dumbledore, her words barely loud enough for Gellert to catch. 'I also wanted an excuse to meet the older you. Dumbledore would never have granted permission.'
His chest warmed as he turned, coming around to rest his hands on the back of Hermione's chair as she retook her seat.
'Your owl, Albus, appears to have gotten lost.' He purred, bringing his eyes up to meet his old foe's as he shrugged on his dark persona like a cloak. His greatest enemy had aged as well and now glacial blue eyes bored into him over a beard long enough to tuck into the clashing crimson sash which he'd used to accessorise his plum Wizangamot robes. At his left sat a stern looking witch; she watched him with considerable interest, her eyes flickering between him and Hermione. The man on the right looked terrified; short and portly, his jowls quivered and his face gleamed with nervous perspiration.
'I would hate to think you had tried to interrogate my ward without the presence of her Patriarch?' Gellert continued drawling.
'An owl has been dispatched, Grindelwald. I have the utmost respect for the law.' Dumbledore replied quickly.
'Do you now? Is that why you attempted to run this interrogation before I could arrive?' He demanded. 'Show me the records, scribe.'
His request was granted. Now that he was present as Hermione's patriarch and the hall was full of the press, they couldn't afford to risk any further attempts at breaking the laws which allowed him to represent his ward.
The handwriting was shocking, the English barely recognisable. It would have been hard enough to read even if it wasn't his second language and he had normal vision in both eyes. He didn't have time to struggle through it so he passed it down to Hermione.
'Tell me what has been said.' He asked quietly. Hermione glanced over it.
'We've only just started. Dumbledore and I were arguing over my name.' She smiled when she passed the papers back to the terrified clerk, switching back to English as she thanked the terrified wizard.
'My ward will be addressed as such, Albus. You have not yet succeeded in tramping out every tradition, however much you may wish to.' He informed the room. Albus opened his mouth, then seemed to change his mind and closed it again quickly. When he spoke again, he seemed to have conceded Gellert's point.
'We are gathered to establish the role of your ward in the escape of two maximum security prisoners from Azkaban prison, four days ago.' Dumbledore declared. 'Sirius Black was returning from the witness stand in a trial that morning, which had been organised by Miss... Grindelwald. The prison was struck by lightning just as he was being returned and Black escaped in the ensuing chaos, liberating Quirrel from his damaged cell in the process.'
'So you are accusing my ward because she happened to ask for the escapee to stand as a witness in her lawsuit against you... which she won, on the same day as lightning happened to hit a tall tower in the middle of a storm prone sea? It would have nothing to do with your own prejudice against me would it?' Gellert raised an eyebrow as the short man on the right shuffled uncomfortably.
'The aurors ran several traces over the island and discovered the lightning storm to be of magical origin, and the signature matched your ward's exactly. You have used that same enchantment in a prison escape before.' The Supreme Mugwump waved towards a line of aurors in the witness stand, all of whom glared at him with the familiar hatred of law enforcement worldwide. Gellert released the back of Hermione's chair, and strolled across the sand towards the aurors.
'How did you decide that it was my ward's signature?' He demanded. One of his personal aurors shifted threateningly as he got too close, and Gellert stopped obediently.
'We ran the standard diagnostics.' The auror with the rank bars sneered.
'And how did you establish that it was, in fact, my ward's signature?'
There was a moment of brief hesitation and the auror glanced nervously up at the wizengamot.
'We matched the results to the signature on a piece of her schoolwork.'
'Was there a warrant for this?' He demanded dangerously.
'No, but one could have been obtained based on her being the last visitor.' The auror sneered.
'But it wasn't...' Gellert turned back to the wizengamot. 'That's strike two, Albus. You've obtained evidence without a warrant and tried to hold an interrogation without her patriarch present. If you reach strike three, I will enact my legal right to a duel for her honour.'
His words were met by excited muttering from the reporters.
'So, you've matched the magical storm to her schoolwork... illegally, so really that should be disregarded. But, because I know that my ward is innocent, we'll just overlook that detail. Can you explain how you determined that it wasn't someone impersonating her magical signature?'
'That's not possible.' The auror blustered and Gellert raised an eyebrow challengingly.
'Hermione?' Gellert demanded sharply. 'If you were to add a half cup of powdered iron to a polyjuice potion before the boomslang skin, what would happen?'
'Neutralisation of the magical signature of the drinker, enough to make the signature of the victim the dominant signature in any casting whilst under the influence.' She replied quickly and Gellert smirked.
'So, even a second year knows that magical signatures are not conclusive evidence, particularly when she was before you in this exact court at the moment of the attack. Why are you interrogating her rather than trying to track down whomever tried to frame her?' He demanded, throwing one had towards the door in a gesture to the outside world. 'Or... did you frame her, Albus Dumbledore? You hate me, and you hate her because of it. She tells me that you believe her to be dark witch who corrupts your precious golden Potter boy - the one prophesied to defeat Voldemort?'
It was irritating that the mere name of the younger dark wizard provoked as much fear as his own, very real, appearance.
'How odd that Hermione's signature should appear in a criminal act just moments after she won her case against you, and that a match would be made immediately available through schoolwork available by you, headmaster and that the aurors would then descend immediately upon her despite all the evidence to the contrary?' Gellert turned, surveying the whole Wizangamot and noting that a number of them seemed to be genuinely considering his words. He'd always had a talent for shifting blame. 'Hermione is a second year student - I wasn't capable of summoning a powerful enough bolt of lighting to damage a mule in front of me, let alone a warded prison from the other side of the country at her age. Not to mention that it was her actions that had one of the escapees imprisoned in the first place... Quirrel; wasn't that the name of the teacher that you hired, Albus. The one that my ward almost died exorcising the spirit of Voldemort from?'
'The very same.' Answered Lord Nott from behind him. Gellert carefully schooled his expression to hide his grin. He just loved winning against Albus Dumbledore.
'Are we done here?' Gellert asked after a moment. His words were met by silence, then the sweating wizard at Dumbledore's right stood up. He had a green hat in his hands, but he'd kneeded it out of shape over the course of the morning.
Gellert made eye contact with the wizard, who shrank back nervously.
'Perhaps, Mr Grindelwald, we were overly hasty to question the Lady Grindelwald before the Wizangamot. I shall have my best aurors on the case to make sure than nobody is impersonating your ward.' The man assured and Gellert assumed that he was the current Minister of Magic; he didn't have the countenance of an auror.
Gellert shifted over to Hermione's chair again, blocking her from the view of the wizangamot with his larger adult frame.
'I'll let them question me in a more hospitable setting, of course. We intend to cooperate fully with their investigation.' She smiled up at him and he couldn't help but smile in reply.
'Perhaps, Minister, your aurors might question us in a more suitable setting.' Gellert echoed, his accent somehow making Hermione's words sound more ominous. 'We do, after all, intend to comply fully with your investigation.'
'Yes, yes.' The Minister agreed, sounding relieved. 'Certainly. Might I suggest... Madam Bones, your office?'
'Minister.' The stern witch to Albus' left acknowledged, her nod signalling her reluctant agreement.
'Scrimgeour?' The minister looked off to the right and a lion-like man stepped out. He had a hardness in his eyes and a slight limp in his step that suggested he was law enforcement.
'Fifteen minutes.' The auror agreed.
'Excellent. Let's forget all this nastiness then, shall we?' The minister looked around expectantly and the audience reluctantly got to their feet and began to depart from the room. Gellert's guards closed in around him immediately. He was too occupied by Hermione, who had finally relaxed, to care about them.
'Should I be offended that I wasn't the first high security prisoner that you broke out, Hermione dearest?' He asked her, keeping his tone light.
'You deserve prison, unlike Sirius.' Hermione challenged.
'And Quirrel?' He tested.
'Unintentional, and very concerning.' She replied shortly. 'But I am very glad to see you... I don't know what I expected... Anneken said she'd spoken to you, but I didn't know what you'd be like now.'
'I lost my way, little sister.' He admitted with a sigh. 'Mother always said that I was too much like my father. I am only now finding my way back.'
'You know that what you did was wrong, which is the first step.' Hermione agreed, taking his wizened fingers in her small, soft hand. She ran a finger up his hand and pushed his sleeve up, revealing the ruined skin of his wrists where years of imprisonment had left their mark, along with the rattling collection of warded bangles. He resisted the self-conscious urge to pull his hands out from under her inspection.
Then a bright smile flickered across her lips and she shook down her own sleeve, revealing fading bruising and pink new skin over the bones of her wrists.
'We match.' She informed him.
'Russia?' He demanded, horrified. She'd never told him that her imprisonment there had left physical damage beyond malnutrition. He wished that he could go back in time and drag out the Russian President's death for another half an hour beyond the already lengthy revenge that he had enacted during his conquest. She nodded, dropping his wrists and tucking her hand into his. The courtroom was almost empty - only Gellert's party, Anneken and Lord Nott remained in the room, but a whole squad of aurors waited just outside, almost certainly to ensure that he didn't somehow escape whilst on British soil again.
With her hand tucked in his, his witch led him from the courtroom and towards the lifts. He wondered how nobody else could feel that he was exactly where he was meant to be for perhaps the first time since his sixth year.
They were blinded by flashing bulbs as they made their way through the corridor - images allowed now that they were outside the courtroom. The aurors barged people aside aggressively, ensuring that nobody hindered them on their way to the lift, and that they were the only ones inside it when the rest of the squad poured in and pressed a button.
'Gellert, this is Lord Nott. He's been a very good friend since I came to Hogwarts. His son is in my year at school.'
He decided immediately that he hated the Nott heir, merely for being Hermione's schoolmate and being the same age as her. Lord Nott was polite and helpful however, so Gellert answered his traditional bow with one of his own. The old fashioned courtesy was painful on his elderly back and hips but he made every effort not to let it show.
'A pleasure, Lord Grindelwald.' Nott greeted politely. The man was uncertain, nervous and held the unmistakable taint of dark magic. Gellert glanced at Hermione, unable to believe that she couldn't feel it and wondering exactly who she surrounded herself with.
Hermione raised an expectant eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes, returning the greeting and politely thanking the wizard for taking care of her over the summers. Then he glanced back at Hermione to make sure that she was satisfied with his efforts. She must have been, because she had her eyes closed. He could feel her magic running like liquid fire, roaring through his veins and burning life back into the bond between them. He gritted his teeth against the stinging pain of the cuffs he wore as they reacted to the foreign magic. He was Gellert Grindelwald, who had conquered most of Europe. He could deal with a little pain if it meant getting their bond back.
She grinned at him when she was done, pulling him through the open doors of the elevator and down a corridor that she was obviously familiar with. They stopped at a door to a large office where a number of chairs had already been conjured.
'Madam Bones!' Hermione greeted happily, 'meet Lord Gellert Grindelwald, my ward-brother. Gellert, this is Madam Bones, head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She's been ever so helpful getting the seals back. Oh, Minister, I didn't see you there. Gellert, this is Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic.'
There was a moment of shocked silence. Hermione's complete disregard for his fearsome, dark past was both refreshing and so utterly her that he could barely wrap his head around it. Meanwhile, both officials seemed just as shocked by the dynamic between them, as Gellert had expected. He'd loved no one in his quest for power, and he would have killed anyone who dared to address him so familiarly.
'Lord Grindelwald.' Fudge seemed to settle on a deep, awkward bow which sent his much abused hat tumbling to the floor. He snatched it back, cheeks flaming and planed it firmly back over his balding head.
'A pleasure.' Gellert purred, enjoying the man's fear even as Hermione frowned at him. He flashed her a smirk, then took a seat with a polite nod to Madam Bones. Hermione sat beside him, still clinging to his fingers and Anneken sat at his left. Lord Nott took the chair beside Hermione and the lion-like man sat beside Madam Bones, finally introducing himself as the head of the Auror department.
'Well, ask your questions. I imagine every minute I am away from Nurmengard takes a year off this poor gentleman's life.' Gellert demanded, leaning against the wing of the conjured chair with all the casual arrogance of a dark wizard and gesturing towards the ICW official who'd questioned him in the carriage and supplied all the warding he wore. The man looked a little like a blasting curse had exploded in his face and he kept glancing between Hermione, down to their joined hands and back to him again. Gellert hid his smirk.
'Lady Grindelwald...' Scrimgeour asked, a quill poised over parchment.
'Gorlois. She prefers Gorlois.' Gellert corrected. Hearing Hermione called Lady Grindelwald reminded him painfully of his mother.
'Very well, Lady Gorlois, can you please tell us what you discussed with Black in Azkaban?'
Gellert leaned back as the three officials questioned her, keeping half a mind on the discussion incase something cropped up but primarily occupied by her.
She looked much younger than he remembered but she was just as poised. Her hair might still be a wild mess, bound stubbornly into braids which had been twisted into one of the complicated undos that Anneken had taught her. But she had every inch of the poise he remembered, along with that ability to wrap every adult around her fingers that had so often gotten them into trouble.
The conversation had moved on from Black to Quirrel; the evil teacher that she'd exorcised in her first year who had also escaped prison. His brows drew together as he refocused, listening to her briefly recounting the events that had taken place beneath the school. His fingers curled in annoyance at Hermione's brazen disregard for her own safety - it was a brutal reminder of his own mistakes at that age.
They were finished after a hour or two or relatively un-invasive questions. He wondered how much had gone into creating this opportunity for even a brief meeting with him; she'd laid the trail all the way from herself to the Azkaban breakout yet managed to come off completely Scot free and somehow used the whole incident to discredit Dumbledore - admittedly, he'd done that talking but he was under no illusions that he was anything more than a piece in her game, dancing to the exact tune that she'd laid out for him.
The scraping of chairs brought him back to the present as the questioning ended, the parties all standing to leave. Knowing that his time was drawing to a close, he wrapped Hermione into another hug, breathing in the distinctive smell of her magic.
'Take care this year and make sure you get Anneken to take you to the Magical Menagerie in Diagon Alley on August 1st. There'll be a fantastic new familiar for you in their shipment.' He winked, remembering the vision he'd had the night before. 'Take the money from the family vault and it can be your Yule gift.'
He then ignored the gobsmacked expressions of the officials as he was led from the room. Hermione disappeared from his sight, but he could feel the reawakened bond glowing at the corner of his magical core. He tugged on it experimentally, feeling her do the same in reply from the other end. A smile dressed his lips as he was escorted by the aurors down the corridors.
Anneken didn't accompany him this time, but she was replaced by the squad of aurors that had joined them outside the courtroom. Within minutes they were back in the carriage, taking off on the way back to his lonely prison. The aurors were not holding their wands in his face anymore.