He'd promised that they would be able to revive the elf, but time was rapidly running out. Hermione was stuck re-learning how to duel from his mother, whilst Mordred continued to stubbornly teach her witchcraft. It was a point of contention between them, although neither would ever voice it. Rather, they just monopolised more and more of Hermione's time to teach her their method. Gellert wasn't foolish enough to call either one out on it, and Hermione seemed more than happy to continue honing herself into a magical weapon.

Gellert was content to lean on the power provided by the Elder Wand, which meant that he could beat Hermione more often than not despite her prodigious talent. It also allowed him more time to focus on trying to learn cursebreaking.

It was a very, very difficult art. Gellert was already well versed in seeing on the magical plane; recognising signatures and observing the strands of magic from the many hours he'd spent casting aimlessly with Hermione. Cursebreaking, however, required an understanding of exactly what each strand was doing and how it interacted with the rest of the enchantment, the magic already existing on the host and the ambient magic around them.

But he was proud to say that he was good at it. Like sorcery, cursebreaking required the delicate touch of his calm and controllable magic and unlike Frau Fleiss, he had the advantage of possessing magic that was the perfect counter to Hermione's, which meant he could neutralise her magic relatively easily. He also had his father's journals, and although it made him sick to read, he ploughed into the detailed study on the house elf bonds that his father had performed. He hoped that knowing about that bond would allow him to differentiate the bond and the spell that Hermione had cast.

By the last day of the summer, he knew that he had to act and hope that he succeeded. He lay awake all nigh agonising over whether to tell Hermione that he was going to make the attempt, then ultimately decided against it because he didn't want to get her hopes up. He did, however, tell his mother. She didn't have the time to sit and watch his attempts for hours, considering how much time she was already giving up to training Hermione, which suited Gellert just fine, but she ordered Gellert's elf to accompany him and find her if anything happened.

His next task was to send an elf to trawl through the preserved Grindelwald library for obscure books on alchemy that he knew would keep his witch happily occupied for the whole day. If he was lucky, she might even forget to search him out for dinner.

Then, he waylaid Berg, who was reading ahead in his new healing book in preparation for the upcoming term - as if he wasn't already far beyond cuts and clean breaks. His brother agreed to distract Hermione if she did come looking for him, then Gellert was faced with the prospect of taking the leap into actually trying out his new skills on a living being.

He was greeted briefly by a Lintzen elf when he rode through the portal, and was informed that the family were at the Unterhalb duelling arena. Kelpie was taken to be unsaddled in Fort Stark's stables, and then Gellert was alone in the empty castle.

It was an estate that he'd always found particularly nice; the Lintzen red and sturdy, panelled walls were always warm and welcoming and the grounds outside were gentle, sunny and open, allowing for gentle shade beneath large trees and long, pleasant rides.

Now, however, he ignored all of that, hurrying purposefully through the carpeted halls and slipping down the cool staircase to the gloomy dungeons. He paused by the closed cell that the elf was imprisoned in and glanced around, suddenly stuck by second thoughts.

There were so many things that could go wrong with that he was about to do; if he removed the clauses of the spell in the wrong order, he could unbalance the magic and send it cascading into devastating consequences. For all he knew, the spell could be a modified killing curse rather than a modified sleeping curse...

He pushed the door open abruptly; heavy steel thudded violently against the mossy stone, splashing water across Gellert's shoes. The elf remained motionless on the stone slab, illuminated by the shaft of light that filtered in from above. There was a chair nearby; just far enough that the elf wouldn't be able to reach it if it came too suddenly. Gellert ignored that, dragging it across the floor and sitting down, shuffling slightly to get the legs to settle comfortably on the uneven floor.

He drew the elder wand and the cool, soothing presence of the magical artefact immediately settled some of his nerves.

He glanced down at the still, prone form of the elf and the nerves came rushing back. It was a middle aged elf, probably old enough to have had children if the owners had organised it. He wondered if elven children lived with their parents; was he about to leave some tiny, helpless creature with only one parent?

The wand in his hand vibrated, tearing his thoughts out of the darkness and back to the task at hand. He reminded himself forcefully that if he didn't manage to break the curse, the elf would be dying anyway. He was attempting to save it's life, he couldn't make matters worse. He pulled out several sheets of parchment and a self inking quill, setting them down within reach on the slab, but out of range of any enchantments. Finally, he checked that Beastie was indeed watching over him.

Then he closed his eyes and took three deep, steadying breaths. His awareness of the magical plane was like a sixth sense, as if his magic was another set of eyes that could feel the pulsing cords, the ebbs and flows of magic around him. Ambient magic shimmered, dormant with no seasonal celebration or congregation of magical beings to excite it. Deep below, like a heavy heartbeat, the intersection of the two major lay lines beneath the Lintzen alter throbbed, smaller networks fluttering off them and spiderwebbing beneath his feet. The closer magic had a much more distinct feel - a mishmash of different magical signatures which tangled throughout the estate and more closely, calling out to his own magic, the powerful magical signature of his witch, lingering like a potent perfume over the elf.

He opened his eyes, and the magical plane became visible; an overlay of lines and colours which traced over the world like the afterimage of bright light. Hermione's bright fire wrapped in choking bonds around the elf, almost entirely obscuring the airy, insubstantial magic that was the signature of house elves. Like background noise, the rest of the house filtered through his perception; his own magic working to isolate what he saw according to his intent.

Taking a moment to observe, Gellert deduced that there was a clear magical source, presumably where the spell had impacted. The burning strands of magic all grew from there, piling atop each other like roots in a pot that was too small; if nothing else, Hermione had over powered the spell beyond what most wixen would be able to accomplish even with a wand.

He breathed a sigh of relief; a single source would mean that the spell was less likely to snag and fracture as he unravelled it.

Contrary to everything his mother had said, Hermione's wandless casting was impressively tidy and very, very efficient. There was only two unanchored strands, both as thin as a hair, which meant the energy lost from the three primary cords of magic was almost negligible as they flowed in a continuous loop, anchoring back to themselves neatly. There was barely even an anchor to the elf's magical core either - a gossamer fine strand that wasn't quite large enough to compensate for the leaking magic from the two unanchored strands. The spell would fade on its own eventually, but it would probably take years.

Gellert relaxed, the magical plane fading from his eyes as he used the ink and quill to sketch up a rough spell net diagram from what he'd seen. Then he just stared at it, wondering what he'd missed.

He flipped his parchment over, occluded his mind and repeated the process, sketching out his observations again, then comparing the two. They were exactly the same.

'Beastie. Fetch mother please.' He gave his instruction to the open air. Presumably, his elf had portrayed the lack of urgency, because he had redrawn his net four times before his mother finally swept through the doorway.

'What is it?' She inquired, one eyebrow raised. Gellert was momentarily distracted by the expression, wondering whether Hermione had adopted it from his mother, or whether it had been the other way around. It was the kind of expression that managed to express interest and disinterest at the same time. It was an expression that said he was being humoured, but that the witch in question would remember everything he said. It was open, not annoyed, but not overly invested.

'This curse...' Gellert didn't bother explaining. His mother understood spell nets as well as he did, even if she lacked the talent that Gellert seemed to possess for seeing them in place. His mother accepted the parchment and silence fell as she inspected his work, comparing the six seperate drawings. It was the first time he'd been able to just stand back and observe her for a while, and perhaps the similarity between their facial expressions had triggered his searching, but he suddenly realised that she'd started dressing differently too - the high necked gown was gone, and although the neckline was still modest, the sparkling sapphire necklace she wore now rested against skin rather than silk. The colours were lighter - a silvery grey rather than the near mourning tones she'd worn in Gellert's youth and, perhaps more importantly, the large crinoline was gone, replaced by a narrow one that could almost be mistaken for a figure formed by petticoats.

It was remarkable; the change that Hermione had wrought on her without him ever really noticing. His mother was happier now than she'd ever been with just Gellert, despite the terrible hardships that the whole country was being put through by the revolutionaries.

It vaguely crossed his mind that he should be jealous that some girl had managed to touch her when he couldn't. That she was a better daughter than he had ever been son. But Hermione had brought just as much light into his life as she had into his mother's; lifting the shroud of his father's betrayal - a stain that he hadn't even realised still existed until it was gone.

'I'm going to obliviate you.' His mother announced, making him jump and knock his quill off the stone slab. He grabbed it sheepishly, hoping that the warmth in his cheeks wasn't visible in the gloomy lighting. 'And you will do this again and see if you get the same results. I will restore your memories afterwards.'

Gellert barely had time to nod before his mothers wand was levelled between his eyes.

He then realised he had no idea why his mother had her wand between his eyes.

Confused, he leant backwards and his mother stepped away, passing him one of the sheets of parchment that she was holding.

'Well? Let's see it then.' His mother prompted and the Grindelwald heir glanced the house elf on the stone slab. It was odd, he pondered. He'd been sure hi mother couldn't make it. Perhaps this was some kind of test? It had been a while since his mother had checked on his progress.

He shrugged, focusing on the task at hand and using a simple meditation to focus on the sixth sense that was his magic. Working beneath his mother's watchful gaze was always nerve wracking, and he found himself losing concentration every time she shifted or breathed too heavily. Fortunately, Hermione's magic was almost unmissable; bright enough to leave an afterimage painted onto his eyelids and the enchantment was very simple. He must have already made significant headway before his mother arrived.

Briefly, Gellert wondered if he'd accidentally shattered a section of the enchantment and the backlash was why he didn't remember the work he'd already done. Perhaps his mother's wand had been pointed at his head because he'd been suffering from some ill effect of a broken curse.

He pushed the thought aside. He still had a promise to Hermione to keep and his mother would have stopped him if she thought he'd seriously harmed himself. He didn't think she'd let him keep going if he was going to make matters worse... at least he hoped not. He'd taken all the sensible precautions this time, that he remembered, so he couldn't think of any lesson she might want to teach him.

When he was finished, he handed the parchment to his mother for inspection.

'We should be able to sever this connection to the core easily enough, then a simple finite should do it.' He summarised. His mother pursed her lips, then jabbed her wand in his face again.

Like flicking through a book in high speed, he suddenly remembered everything that had happened before the memory. With new eyes, he glanced over his most recent set of notes. His observations matched his earlier ones.

'What I don't understand is why Arika couldn't undo this.' He admitted. His mother paused, the tapping of her nails against the stone slab hesitating. Then, like one of Hermione's conjured storms had rolled in across the sun, her expression grew thunderously dark.

'Because she didn't want to.' His mother concluded. 'Perhaps, this time, the elf was not an intruder. Perhaps it was you and Hermione that appeared at the elf's place of work, rather than it following you.'

'And Arika's ward family own the theatre. She's protecting them.' Gellert realised.

'I will send the others to arrest them.' His mother spat, storming from the room and calling an elf to her side.

'Wait!' Gellert cried, surprising even himself by jumping up and catching her arm. He vaguely noted that he was almost as tall as her. She still managed to look down on him as she turned back to him. 'They don't know that we've discovered the truth yet. We should speak to Frau Fleiss first and find out just what we're going up against. We don't want to violate the treaty.'

For a long moment, his mother just glared at him, her expression dark and unreadable. Self consciously, Gellert withdrew his hand and stepped back. Then, to his surprise she sagged slightly, seeming to shrink in on herself.

'You're right.' The High Witch acknowledged. 'We will speak to Arika first.'

He followed his mother at a much slower pace this time, trailing up the stairs in single file before catching up to her in the wider ground floor corridors of the castle. The sun had risen higher in the sky, and the courtyard was already beginning to become sweltering as the sunlight reflected off the stone walls. The elves already had their mounts saddled and waiting in the shade.

It was odd, riding beside his mother. Gellert and Hermione both alternating between casual strolls and wild races but the Lady Grindelwald rode at a collected trot, her Granian's gleaming white neck gracefully arched and wings carried loosely at it's sides to display the smooth, angular flight feathers that were proof of the beast's racing pedigree. Kelpie disliked the pace, unused to it and the way it made his harness bounce on his back.

It was only once they reached the portal that Gellert realised that he'd never actually visited Frau Fleiss' home. He'd been to every other coven member's holdings, but as the only New Blood in the group, Frau Fleiss didn't actually have her own family holdings.

The portal that they took led to a thick forest of pines, definitely Scandinavian if the cold nip of the wind was anything to go by. There was a well trodden path that wound it's way down the hill towards a large clearing where a settlement of magical farms nestled together between large barns. They rode inconspicuously around the edge of the clearing, passing several tracks that wound off to larger crop fields and greenhouses before taking a much less travelled path to a cabin in the trees. It wasn't completely isolated; he could still hear the shouting of the farmers as they herded the goats but he couldn't quite see them through the trees.

The cabin was large, built of trunks as thick as his waist. A cauldron and brewing table sat outside under a large Ramada, a broom leant against the porch and a thestral dozed in a paddock beside a lean to shed. His mother dismounted, knotting her reins to the rail of the paddock. Gellert dropped his to the floor; Hermione's family had helped him teach his beast to remain exactly where the reins landed, unless he was called. The thestral ambled over to investigate the two visitors to it's home.

'I wasn't expecting you, Katerina.' Frau Fleiss called. She'd appeared in the doorway, dressed in a set of plain robes. It was more than a little surprising because she always seemed as put together and wealthy as the rest of the coven in public, but clearly she was not as wealthy as she pretended to be. Of course, the coven was a time consuming obligation and hardly allowed for a job, which wasn't an issue when most members only had an estate to manage.

'My son suggested I give you the chance to explain in person why you were pretending you couldn't awaken your ward family's elf.' His mother seemed more sad than suspicious, but as they made their way closer, Gellert couldn't help but notice that there was an over abundance of manure in the Thestral's paddock and that there were fresh cobwebs around the brewing Ramada. The house had once been spotless, but it looked like someone had recently stopped cleaning.

The Elder Wand seemed to slip into his fingers of it's own accord.

'I don't know what you're talking about.' Frau Fleiss shook her head and Gellert couldn't help but think her offence sounded false.

'Gellert has figured out how to do it.' Lady Grindelwald explained, stepping closer to the cottage.

'Mother.' He felt like a little child as he tugged on her skirts. She turned to look at him, and Frau Fleiss took her chance. She struck - a bolt of unmistakable green light that would have hit his mother firmly in the chest if Gellert hadn't been still holding onto her skirts and able to drag her down with him in a tear of silk.

Both Grindelwalds scrambled to their feet immediately, separating to make themselves less of a target. The elder wand danced gleefully in his fingers.

'What is this, Arika?' His mother demanded. The witch sneered at them.

'Justice.'

'Justice? You tried to kill me.' His mother sounded torn between fury and tears.

'She's already killed Frau Hassel.' Gellert crouched down without removing his eyes from their adversary, picking up a stick and chucking it sideways. With a horrific tearing noise, long, fern-like fronds ripped up from the ground and snatched at the stick, reducing it to sawdust in seconds before disappearing back into the thick, mossy coverage. 'Viper Moss. We studied it in Herbology last year - it's a powerful ingredient in sleeping potions, unless prepared on a blood moon, in which case it can be fatal. The juice is bright green and has a peppery odour - perfect to conceal in pea soup.'

'You little swine!' Arika lashed out again with another green curse but Gellert's wand was already striking, wielding his magic faster than he could decide on a spell as he dove out of the way.

'Traitor!' His mother screamed, waving her own wand to form a bolt of bright light. Frau Fleiss caught it on a hastily conjured shield, then deflected the spell towards Gellert. She tried to fell into the cover of her house, but fire swarmed form the end of the Gridnelwald heir's wand, catching the dry logs alight in second.

'I am doing what is right!' Frau Fleiss screamed. 'I am fighting against you, who makes your rules from your ivory tower, with no care for how they effect the rest of us.'

Lady Grindelwald's conjured ropes caught her hand, binding it to the closest surface just as the High Witch narrowly avoided a purple curse that dissolved the tree behind her into smoke.

'You killed your friends, I gave you a chance and you've betrayed me.' His mother spat.

'You gave me a chance?' Arika Fleiss laughed bitterly, madly. 'You only needed to give me a chance because you'd already taken them away.'

She'd managed to free herself of her bonds, but it was obvious the traitorous member of the coven was losing. She knew dark magic, as the coven's expert on the subject, but Gellert and his mother were both formidable duellers too and they were in a more advantageous position. She knew it too and there was a brief moment where Gellert recognised the light of a decision in her eyes. He barely had time to throw up a shield before a loud crack rent the air. He cowered, expecting an impact on his shield, but nothing ever came.

'She's apparated.' His mother spat over the roar of flames. Already, the farmers of the local settlement were rushing over to investigate the blaze. Gellert spat out a water charm and the elder wand sent a deluge of water over the burning building

He didn't see the shape at first - grey and indistinct, it looked like smoke from the fire. Then it spoke.

'Gellert! The barrows around Hexemeer's portal are being triggered.' The shape announced breathlessly, before fading.

'Hermione!' He realised.

'Arika.' His mother hissed. 'She still has admittance to the wards.' His mother grabbed his arm and disapparated as well. It was an awful, disorientating sensation as her magical core grabbed his, tore it apart and then reassembled it next to the portal, leaving the usually smooth waters of his magic turbulent and unpredictable.

His mother didn't even stop to steady him, already opening up the glowing gateway. He shoved through, wand already ready and a curse on his lips. Then he stopped, dead.

Hermione was bound by gleaming silver chains, on her knees in front of the traitorous witch. Frau Fleiss' wand was inches away from the back of her head. Around them, Barrow Wrights seethed, their shiny, magically preserved, undead hands reaching from beneath ragged white cloaks, rattling breaths fogging against the shimmery lilac barrier that had been erected inside the ring of mounds.

'She's the traitor, Gellert!' Hermione shouted. 'She's been passing information to the revolutionaries, she kidnapped the Russian coven, she brought down the Blau Berg wards from the inside.'

'Silence.' Arika backhanded Hermione, the glittering ring on her finger slashing a savage line across his witch's cheek. Gellert didn't dare move, even as raw fury burned darkly in his chest. His magic was unsettled, shaken by the apparition but the elder wand was smoothing it, honing it, ready for a moment to exact revenge.

'Why?' His mother asked, her voice sounding broken. Gellert hadn't even heard her come through the portal behind him.

'Because it's time the coven's tyranny came to an end.' Frau Fleiss spat. 'You don't see it in your castles with their walls and house elves, the struggles that the people you claim to rule experience.'

'What? You think that getting rid of the coven will somehow provide food and wealth for everyone?' His mother laughed bitterly.

'I know so.' Arika hissed. 'You charge more for your exorbitant protection fee than the ministry of magic gains in tax revenue per year.'

'Exorbitant?' Lady Grindelwald demanded. 'You know nothing of the costs involved in maintaining the warrens, feeding an entire country, warding grounds that big.'

'People wouldn't need your warrens or your protections if you didn't throw your weight around to stop the ministry banning dark magic. It works well for you, doesn't it? You force the ministry to not ban rituals, blood magic, necromancy, so that you can keep practicing your little rituals, which means that dark wizards can get their hands on material to learn, which means you can charge the people to protect them from a demon.'

'Those who wish evil would do it regardless of-'

'And then...' Frau Fleiss shouted over his mother, her wand sparking with the witch's pent up fury and burning several strands of Hermione's hair. Gellert grit his teeth. 'And then you rip the new bloods from their parents, because you know that anyone outside your little system would see through it. Shove us in with families who don't want us, indoctrinate us into fearing our origins, tear us away from and foundations so that we're on the bottom rungs of society... unless it's your precious little Hermione... no, she's treated like a princess -because you knew she could bring down your little empire if she tried.'

Another backhand across Hermione's face. His witch was tough though; she spat blood and twisted to glare at her aggressor, who hauled at her hair to force her to face forwards again.

'I thought that little upstart, Alice, would be able to finish her off whilst she was still young, before she came into her family power.'

'You knew who she was.' Gellert's mother sounded surprised. Gellert shifted his grip on his wand.

'Of course.' Frau Fleiss scoffed. 'I've been studying dark wards and curses since before she was born. I recognised the stench of the fey on her in her first ritual. The last thing we needed was for the Fey to return, playing their little games with their mortal favourites. I convinced the Tunninger girl to challenge her to a duel - you don't think Alice would have ever been brave enough to actually do it without my prompting, or strong enough to stand a chance without my training?'

'You made Alice duel Hermione?' Gellert demanded, fury burning cold through his chest.

'Made her?' Frau Fleiss rounded on him, her fury as potent as his own now that she was finally uncovered. 'No, I spoke to her. Same as I spoke to Hugh Hawdon and convinced him to leave, and Franz Freidl to persuade him that it was too dangerous. They all saw reason once I'd spoken to them.'

'You've been tearing this coven apart from the inside.' Lady Grindelwald had gone as white as a sheet.

'And I was winning until your children started poking into things.' Another slap across Hermione's face that sent her head snapping sideways. 'You never suspected me; because none of your coven would ever betray you. I could have finished you off and you never would have suspected a thing.'

There was a moment of silence as the final word faded into the wind, broken only by heavy breathing and agitated moaning of the Barrow Wrights, held at bay by Arika's ward.

'And now what, Arika?' His mother finally sighed. 'You have your hostage but if you kill her, I dare say you'll be defeated shortly after. You can't apparate off this island and you've awakened the Barrow Wrights. They'll hunt you down wherever you go.'

'I don't need to survive.' Arika bared her teeth. 'Because you're going to hand over your coven ring.'

'The coven isn't a sect. You can't force them to obey you. They'll remove you and Thorberg will become High Wizard.' His mother pointed out, pulling off the ring and tossing it to her. 'And even if you do somehow succeed, Gellert and Hermione will form their own coven when they're of age.'

'No!' Hermione screamed. 'The Wrights, they hunt-'

She cut off abruptly as Arika Fleiss slashed her wand through the air. There was a bright purple flash, and Hermione crumpled. Her silvery robes blossomed out around her and her hair splayed across the dirt. The burning fury that had been building in Gellert exploded and he surged forwards, wand raised as Fleiss stepped through the ward, High Witch's ring clenched in her hand.

He vaguely noticed his mother rushing to Hermione's side, but he was more focused on the black intent that was rushing through him, the wand forging it into a weapon that would exact every ounce of pain that she deserved.

Outside the barrier, the Wrights descended on their victim, who laughed madly as the closest lowered it's white hood and pressed their faces together, cutting off the sound with a gurgle.

And then it released her, and the witch was still laughing. Laughing and crying. Gellert raised his wand, stepped through the barrier, and cast.

The magic that came from his wand was black, like someone had cut a piece of night sky and sent it hurtling towards his victim. Arika's laugh turned into a scream and Gellert bared his teeth as she collapsed, writhing beneath his wand.

It wasn't a cruciatus, he knew, because it wasn't false pain. Something was happening, something terrible and irreversible and he gloried in it, in the power it gave him. He could avenge his family, his witch. There was a sickening tearing sound and the elder wand jerked in his hands - a silvery shadows seemed to haul itself away from the writhing body on the ground in front of him, it stretched, further and further.

'Gellert!' A voice behind him screamed. Someone bowled into him from behind, sending him flying and the wand tumbling from his grasp. His control of the spell was instantly broken and the writhing stopped.

'Gellert! Wake up!' Hermione slapped him, hard. He blinked up at her - hair haloed around her face and summer sun gleaming on bronzed skin. Hot, crimson blood scalded his cheek, dripping from the cut on her face.

It was that, perhaps, that convinced him that she was real. Alive. He hadn't even thought to check.

Then Hermione was rolling away, wand bared.

'Expecto Patronum.' Hermione screamed, her own wand raised. Something big, shining and dark burst out of the end and galloped away. Then Hermione scrambled after it, waving her arms and screaming. Gellert, still feeling more than a little dazed, made it up to his elbows before he felt too dizzy to continue.

A massive, ghostly figure was charging around on a black steed, waving it's sword at the Wrights and tossing around what looked like a large ball. The Wrights were desperately trying to get to his mother, who had conjured a weak, silvery owl patronus which was working with the massive dark... was that Hermione's patronus? It could be, it was a the right consistency, although the colouration was odd and he didn't know it was possible to have a human as a patronus, even a headless one.

But he didn't understand why the Wrights were attacking them, and why Gellert was untouched. The Wrights followed the intent of the family... unless, whatever Fleiss had done to them...

Gellert hauled himself to his feet, searching for his wand in the grass. He found it, a fair distance away, and picked it up. It buzzed warningly, as if annoyed that he'd dropped it. He turned to face Fleiss, ready to finish his spell, only to discover that she was in even worse state than he was. She was alive, obviously, although she was sweating heavily and her eyes were rolling in her head.

'Gellert!' Hermione screamed. He turned to look at her, and found that she appeared fine, but then her patronus winked out.

His mother's barely stood a chance against the twelve Wrights, and they descended on her.

'Expecto Patronum!' Gellert bellowed desperately. But he'd never been able to cast one; last he'd heard, Hermione couldn't either, so he tried anyway. Nothing happened, and then the wrights were surrounding his mother and one of them bend down to do whatever it had done to Arika Fleiss a moment ago. Then the Wrights were disappearing, as if they'd never existed in the first place.

Barely a moment later, it was just him, Hermione, the cursed Fleiss and his mother, who was sobbing.

'Lady Grindelwald?' Hermione asked, rushing forwards and tugging at her arms until they fell away from her face. Morbidly, Gellert crept forwards.

His mother wasn't injured. There was no scarring on her face, no lack of awareness, despite the visual similarity of the Wrights to dementors. But there was something missing, a light that was gone. It was only when he reached out, across the bond that had always existed between them, that he realised what it was.

'They took her magic.' Hermione told him what he already knew, expression somber.

'Why her? She didn't do anything?'

'Because thats what Wrights do.' His witch moaned. 'They hunt down everyone with a magical bond to the one who trespassed with evil intent and remove their magic. Fleiss had the High Witch ring, which is the nexus of the coven's bonds. They'll be hunting down everyone with a coven bond now...'

Gellert growled, rounding on the body behind him, that black fury roaring up again. He wanted to cast that curse again. He wanted to inflict pain. He would make her suffer...

'Gellert!' Hermione interrupted again. She was standing with her hands on her hips, wand drawn. 'There's more important things to do. You need to look after your mother, who has just had her magic ripped out.'

'And what about you?' Gellert demanded.

'I am going to do damage control.' His witch straightened, and somehow a flicker of pride pierced the hollow shell of anger that he'd somehow become. 'I'm going to owl every child with a parent in the coven, and we're going to meet here. I'm going to summon the aurors and explain just how one of the most respected witches in society became a blubbering mess. I'm going to have Gorlois search for any more information than what he's already told me on Wrights, I'm going to owl Herr Hassel and have him released from custody...'

'Hermione...' His mother's croak was almost lost. With one last glower in Gellert's direction, she knelt down. His mother slipped off the family ring and pressed it into her hands, murmuring into his witch's ear so utterly that Gellert couldn't catch it. Then, the High Priestess stood abruptly.

'Then,' Hermione continued as if she hadn't been interrupted, 'we're all going to go to sleep. Then, tomorrow, I will deal with you.'

Gellert wasn't entirely sure what she meant by that, but he nodded to her retreating back. Of the two of the, she seemed more put together. He could follow her lead until he'd figured out exactly what had just happened.