Gellert's life had become exponentially more interesting since Hermione had burst back into it. She was a whirlwind of energy and anyone with the slightest connection to her had to either keep up or be swept off their feet. In this instance, Gellert was more than happy to be swept along with the current.

Perhaps because of his expectation of her stirring things up, he was unsurprised when his morning routine changed yet again and he was hosed down with brutally cold water before being allowed to dress in a set of Anneken's beautifully designed dress robes. The first thing to jump to his attention outside the cell was the sheer number of guards - every doorway and corridor, every window and every alcove held a member of his auror guards. Then, he had six guards himself, who marched in step and forced him towards the conference room... as if he needed to be forced. If they weren't marching so closely around him, he was pretty sure he could have coaxed a run out of his old legs just to see what was happening.

When he entered, he was immediately blown away by the number of people inside. His eyes darted to Hermione immediately, dressed resplendently in sapphire blue and seated in the chair opposite from his like it was a throne. At her side was another young witch, dressed almost identically but for the shade of blue and her flaming red hair. Lord Nott stood behind her, another boy at her right with bright magic and a curse scar beneath a fop of messy black hair. Dumbledore was trying to capture the boy in conversation, but he was doing an admiral job of giving single syllable answers to the headmaster's questions. The British Minister of Magic stood near the window, almost obscured by his own squad of aurors. He wore his ridiculous green bowler hat, but as soon as Gellert was brought through the doors, he pulled it off and began kneeling it. The warden stood at the door with another pair of Nurmengard guards. There was an oddly anticipatory expression on his face, as if he were an ancient Roman waiting to watch a gladiator battle and expected it to be particularly bloody. Anneken and Berg were talking quietly at the back near the window. Both turned when Gellert entered, fixing him with cool gazes. Two more boys lounged against the wall, almost concealed by the shadows of so many people but Gellert quickly recognised that the skinnier one was Lord Nott's son. He didn't know the second, but from Hermione's letters he could infer that it was Neville Longbottom.

'Gellert!' Hermione greeted warmly, leaning over to place one hand over his as the guards shackled him to his own chair. The warden coughed meaningfully at the contact and she scowled at him, withdrawing quickly. Her touch tingled against his skin even after she'd pulled back. 'I'm hardly going to give him my wand - you've already got it.' The boy with the scar snickered before hastily jamming him mouth shut and glancing around as if embarrassed to have displayed such emotion.

The British Minister cleared his throat, garnering the attention of everybody in the crowded room.

'Lady Gorlois has agreed to offer her property to the Ministry to host the Quidditch World Cup, in exchange for her friends being allowed to come and meet her patriarch.' The minister explained, 'you've got half an hour.'

'Congratulations.' Gellert murmured in German, impressed that she'd won over her magical government so quickly. Hermione smiled at him, then began to introduce her friends. The girl with the red hair was Ginny Weasley, he already knew Anneken, Berg and Lord Nott but he hadn't met Lord Nott's son. The chubby boy was indeed Neville Longbottom and the one with the scar was Harry Potter.

'Harry Potter?' Gellert cocked his head. There was something else that swirled around him. 'The one to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied...'

'Silence!' Dumbledore commanded, furiously. Gellert glanced over at him.

'Pardon?' Every adult in the room looked intrigued, Hermione and Harry included.

'Harry does not need to know that.' Dumbledore continued, drawing himself up to staring down the minister.

'Actually...' Hermione drawled, a wicked gleam had appeared in her eye. Gellert knew that meant that she'd done something which would undoubtably irritate the headmaster greatly. 'I think he does. Please, Gellert, continue.' He did.

'Born to those who have thrice...'

'Silence!' Dumbledore instructed again. 'Minister, I must insist. This is a matter for Harry's guardian, which has yet to be decided.'

'Actually...' Hermione's eyes were alight. Harry was biting his lip and Lord Nott's son looked positively gleeful. Oddly, none of the adults in Hermione's life seemed to have any more idea of what was going on than Dumbledore did. The children had evidently cooked something up alone. 'I think you'll find the matter settled. The line of Gorlois has guardianship over Harry Potter.'

'That has yet to be decided by the courts, Miss Granger.' Dumbledore's eyes flashed and Gellert watched the confrontation like it was the Quidditch World Cup.

'Gorlois.' Harry Potter corrected sharply. 'She's the Lady Gorlois.' The irritable glance thrown at him by the headmaster was wonderful.

'This matter does not need to go to the courts, Headmaster.' Hermione purred. 'Harry has decided who he wishes to stand for him, and I have agreed.'

'The matter is not quite that simple, Miss Granger. Whilst the wizengamot will take Harry's choice into account, the real concern is what is in his best interest.' Dumbledore sounded like he was desperately trying to be condescending, but he looked unnerved by her absolute confidence.

'I'm sorry. You misunderstand me.' The High Priestess raised one eyebrow. Anneken suddenly gasped and clutched her chest, eyes wide. She'd figured out what Hermione had done. A moment later, Gellert suddenly did too. He laughed, unable to stop himself - a deep, belly laugh that shook him so hard that the chains rattled against the chair.

'You brilliant witch!' He praised. The Minister was looking more and more uncertain. Berg looked suspiciously between Hermione, Anneken, him and the Potter boy, then his eyes widened and he choked.

'You see, this matter won't be going before the courts because Harry is a Ward of the line of Gorlois.' Hermione smiled brilliantly up at the minister.

'You are underage Miss Granger...'

'Gorlois.' Harry corrected again. Dumbledore glared at him in annoyance.

'You are underage, you cannot legally represent and care for yourself, let alone Harry.'

'I can though.' Gellert drawled, enjoying himself immensely. 'After all, I am Hermione's magical guardian and I represent her in all legal matters until she is of age. If she is Heir Potter's magical guardian, then by extension I also represent him in all legal matters.'

Fudge had gone white.

'Magical guardian?' He asked, sounding somewhat faint.

'Arrest her, Minister.' Dumbledore spat. Immediately her friends jumped up around her, physically shielding her from the aurors.

'Actually, you'll find ancient adoption rituals fall under an exemption from the Black Arts Register.' Gellert drawled, glancing over at the minister, who looked torn. After barely a moment of eye contact, he signalled for his aurors to step down. Hermione's allies relaxed as well. 'You should be very careful, Albus. I might call that strike three.'

'This cannot be legal, Cornelius.' Dumbledore turned on the Minister for Magic, who looked like he'd rather be shovelling manure than standing in the room at that moment.

'Unless you requested a restriction?' Lord Nott seemed to be enjoying himself almost as much as Gellert. He couldn't help but like the man. 'No? Then clearly the matter is settled. Heir Potter is under the guardianship of Lady Gorlois, and the legal guardianship of Lord Grindelwald.'

Hermione grinned and turned to Gellert again.

'So, Gellert. Please do tell us what it was you were saying earlier.'

He replied with his own grin. Dumbledore made a desperate move as Gellert began, then froze as Anneken shifted subtly to block him.

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those that have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hands of the other for neither can live whilst the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.'

For a moment, there was silence. Then Hermione laughed.

'You believe it's Harry.' She turned to Dumbledore, who now looked resigned. 'You believe that this prophecy means that Harry is the only one who can defeat Voldemort.'

'It is why Voldemort has always been after him.' Dumbledore confirmed.

'Well that's ridiculous. Gellert, is there any more insight that you can shed?'

'Voldemort is already dead.' Gellert drummed his fingers against the chair, his eye's glazed as he meditated on the words.

'But he showed up at school for the last two years!' Harry protested, unflinching as Gellert turned his eyes on him.

'Speak to Mordred, I believe he can tell you more on the matter.' Both Harry and Hermione nodded quickly, not missing the meaningful glance in the direction of the aurors and Minister. If what he suspected about the exact method of Mordred's continued existence was true, he would know more about it than Gellert anyway and it certainly wasn't a discussion to be had with children in front of a squad of aurors. He leaned back and changed the subject. 'So, Heir Potter, how has Gorlois been treating you so far?'

Harry glanced at Hermione for permission to speak, then turned back to him.

'Girtha makes the best soup.' Which meant that he'd been into the Barrows, but he doubted he would have chosen to mention that if he'd been subjected to one of Gorlois or Mordred's training sessions yet.

'The one with the garlic?' Gellert asked, smiling as Harry nodded.

'He'll start training this summer.' Hermione added and Gellert grinned.

'If you beat Hermione, I'll have firebolt build you a custom broomstick.'

'You don't have that kind of influence.' Hermione scoffed.

'Try me.' He growled. The aurors tensed, but Hermione laughed, completely unintimidated by him. Of course, she could probably beat him even now, considering how good her wandless magic had always been and how much he'd neglected his own.

'Oh, I will.'

'You'd be better off bribing Ginny.' Harry admitted, pointing at the redhead. The slightest brush against her magic revealed exactly why. Her magic was incredibly volatile but without the wildness that made Hermione's so difficult to control and made her wand so inefficient. Ginny Weasley's spells would pack a painful punch, whether she used her wand of her bare hands, although she might not be quite as quick wandlessly as Hermione was.

'Has Hermione taught you any good wardbreakers, yet?' Gellert asked the young witch. Ginny shook her head and Gellert drummed his fingers against the metal arm of his chair as he cast his mind back to before the imprisonment. 'There was a book written in the 1920s, Wars with Wands by Flanders Fielding. He was muggleborn, fought alongside the muggles in the trenches and invented a number of excellent spells, many of which are a little more discrete than your basic white wardbreaker.'

'What's a wardbreaker?' Ginny asked. Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands. Gellert shrugged and leaned back, unbothered by the lack of knowledge. Despite what Hermione thought, it was perfectly normal to not know what a wardbreaker was until you learned about them in fourth year duelling. Most young wixen didn't spend every moment of free time training with their militaristic, undead family.

'They're powerful spells designed to force a caster to drop a shield.'

'How do they work?' The Nott heir asked, leaning forwards curiously. The light caught Nott's features for the first time and Gellert was struck by how much he looked like his father. He had heavy eyebrows, and a chin that was in desperate need of a beard to look a little less pointed. Fortunately, if his father's beard was anything to go by, he would manage a healthy one.

'It depends on the ward you're trying to break.' Gellert explained. 'If you cast protego - that's a simple shield charm. You're loading it up with magic which is then worn away with every spell that hits it. With a more complex protego vari, it would just come down to strength and reserve. Wardbreakers are powerful spells designed to force the defender into channelling too much magic at once, without preparation. If the shield is on your off hand, it will burn and make your hand numb, if it's on your wand, you might break your wand...'

The British Minister coughed nervously from his position near the window, his eyes searching out the warden. Gellert understood his discomfort and changed topics, unwilling to risk the meeting being cut short. Hermione seemed to have already done an excellent job of toeing the fine line between legal and unacceptable. He shifted his focus to the two boys.

'Heir Nott?' He demanded sharply. The younger wizard jumped, then shuffled closer to Hermione. 'I would suggest that you see to educating Heir Potter on the responsibilities of a wizard, considering he is now Hermione's brother.'

'Mordred can teach him.' Hermione protested and Gellert scoffed. Surprisingly, it was Berg who commented.

'Mordred's ideas on the matter are hardly inline with modern expectations. I do remember something about duelling a dragon...'

Hermione scowled and Anneken laughed. He realised belatedly how much he'd missed that sound. It wasn't just Hermione that he'd missed; he'd missed Berg's quite studiousness, Anneken's bold disregard for propriety... The way they'd all challenged and contradicted him, forced him to rethink his ideas...

'Besides... Is she not still betrothed to you?' Anneken finally asked, breaking him from his chain of thought. Only the aurors seemed surprised by the revelation.

'I will, considering the circumstances, release her from the betrothal.' Gellert grimaced, his chest squeezing at the thought of her with any other wizard.

'If the betrothal needs to be terminated, it shall be.' Hermione announced, narrowing her eyes in a way that dared Gellert to say anything. He wisely kept his mouth shut. 'However, I currently have no desire to betroth myself to another. It will remain in place.'

There was a moment of silence, then it was broken by Lord Nott.

'We shall educate Heir Potter, of course. It is only fair exchange for what has been taught to us by your ward.'

Gellert nodded and the silence fell. He couldn't help but reach for the magic in the room again, almost tasting the air. The power of the wizarding world had been in decline for centuries - since the end of the reign of the Witch King. People had often commented, when Gellert was a child, that he was proof that that was not true. Now, he was beginning to suspect that his birth had been the herald of what was to come, because Hermione's fledgling coven were each as powerful as he was, in their own way. Soon, the rest of the world would realise it, and then change would come.

'Fifteen minutes left,' The warden warned. The man had strongly disliked Hermione when they'd first met, but it seemed she'd somehow managed to weasel her way into his heart and manipulate him into liking her. Oddly, the warden seemed to find her tendency to run Dumbledore in circles endearing. Gellert thought it was too.

'So, how is the search for your escaped convicts? Black and Quirrel, was it not, Minister?' The Minister looked started, then, he coughed in a very political manner before evasively admitting that they hadn't gotten anywhere. Gellert turned to Hermione, asking what she thought of the Ministry's efforts. She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly demanding to know what he was playing at.

'I dislike the dementors at the gates to the school. They have a nasty effect on the ambient magic and I doubt they'd stop Black. I believe Quirrel is in Albania again.'

'How do you know that?' Fudge demanded, cheeks puffing. Hermione glanced at him.

'The goblins told me that he'd booked a muggle plane ticket to Tirana. They were rather annoyed because he didn't warn them that he was going to make a rather large withdrawal of muggle money.' Fudge wasn't the only one to choke in surprise. Berg seemed just as amazed and although he hid it better, Gellert couldn't help but wonder if she realised that most wixen found it difficult to get any information from the goblins, let alone having them volunteer it to her.

'Is that why Ragnuk came to visit?' Berg asked casually.

'No, no. That was just because he wanted to see the progress on the front gates, but I'm pretty sure he's working on another gift to me.'

'A gift from the goblins?' Gellert asked, curious.

'Of course - they gave me my ring and sword.' She said it like it was obvious, flashing the dark band that he'd always wondered about in his direction. Gellert grinned as the minister gaped like a fish, leaning forwards to inspect the intricate knotted runes around the band, black stone beautifully inlaid to really make the silver stand out.

'Remarkable.' He commented. He couldn't read what it did - Ogham was a forgotten language and only Hermione and her family still knew it, so he'd forgotten most of it after she'd disappeared. Perhaps, if she did free him, he could work on relearning it. But he could recognise that even for a piece of goblin jewellery, it was finely made. He looked up, noticing that Dumbledore was almost on his toes to try and catch sight of the artefact before Hermione tucked her hands into her skirts again.

'Now, how are your werewolves getting along. No incidents?'

The minister for magic suddenly went very pale and the Potter boy tensed, but Hermione waved her hand casually.

'No incidents. It's all coming along marvellously...'

'You're lying.' He interrupted coldly. Hermione paused, every civilian leaned away from him whilst every Auror seemed to lean forwards. His witch just blinked, then rolled her eyes.

'There was a minor incident.' The minister of magic needed his bowler hat anxiously, eyes darting between Gellert, Hermione and then to Dumbledore as if hoping the elderly hero would protect him.

'A minor incident?' Gellert repeated frostily, turning his glower on Hermione. Predictably she sniffed dismissively.

'Hardly. He didn't even have a wand and it wasn't anywhere near the full moon.'

'So easily handled.'

'Of course.'

Dumbledore huffed disapprovingly and shot the minister a pointed look.

'Five minutes.' The warden informed them. Hermione sighed forlornly.

'Well, I'm glad you could meet everyone.' She hummed.

'Yeah. It was good to meet you, Lord Grindelwald.' Harry Potter agreed, fearless in the face of danger. The shyer boy behind him squeaked something long the same lines.

'An honour.' Heir Nott bowed deeply and his father imitated the move.

'I'm glad to see you again, Berg.' Gellert nodded to him.

'I'm not.' Berg replied bluntly. 'I'd have rather stayed in Iran.'

Anneken elbowed him in the side and Gellert couldn't help the small flicker of a smile. There had been no true malice in that statement.

'Thanks for the book recommendation.' The redhead waved.

'Custom firebolt!' Gellert reiterated, nodding to the two Quidditch players. Both nodded back. Then the aurors were there, unlocking the chains and dragging him up to his feet. He bowed to Hermione as soon as he was standing, not letting the aurors pull him away until shed acknowledged it. Then, he went willingly.

Soon. Hermione would come for him soon, he knew it.