Wow. I did not expect such a great response from the readers, to be honest. Thank you so much for that. It really encouraged me. To some who expressed their reservations about this story being another SI, it's not. Nor am I taking away anything from Harry, LMAO. He has his own arc, Ron has his own arc, Fleur has her own arc, Robert has his own arc, and many characters have their own unique stories.
For The Greater Good
Chapter 2 – Preparations
Apolline Delacour's POV
Monday, 27th December, 1982 (St. Louis Hospital, Paris, France – Noon)
It had been more than a year and half since Rob had moved to France under Nozéa's care. It wasn't an easy period. There was no joy in their lives. There was only misery, and there seemed to be no end to it.
Rob had withdrawn into a shell. He mostly responded by nodding or shaking his head if he was asked a question, and he didn't initiate conversation with any of the adults, bar herself. But that was only because she was a trained mind healer who knew how to get him to open up. Nozéa still couldn't manage to talk to Rob about what happened without bursting into tears.
She was extremely thankful for the Flamels coming over regularly to check on her. Perenelle had taken to helping Nozéa by helping her improve her Occlumency skills and talking to her. It wasn't just Rob who needed support, others were in need of help, too.
Merde! Even I need to talk to a mind healer at times. This work isn't for the faint hearted.
Rob liked to talk about his parents. It was the only time he made an effort to smile, even as he shivered in anger, fear, sorrow, and happiness as he remembered Lucretia and Norbert. He talked about the last birthday he celebrated with them. He talked about the presents he had received. He talked about being tucked into bed by his mother. He talked about running to his father and crying when he got hurt playing with Fleur and Val and Aurélie. He talked about nightmares, the flashes of green, and the silence that followed in between the Dark Lord leaving him alone with his dead parents, and the Aurors arriving on the scene. He talked about dark things, darker thoughts, and even darker terrors which haunted his mind.
The things he talked about haunted her at night, but she did her duty nonetheless. Rob was her son, and she was the only one who could help him.
Today, however, she had been equally surprised and equally confused. Rob did not express any fear nor sadness when he sat in front of her. He seemed agitated, angry, and she also felt a smudge of hatred emanating from him. But it didn't feel like was thinking about his nightmares this time.
No, this was something else. Something else was bothering him. It aroused her curiosity as his therapist. This was a major development.
"Good afternoon, Rob. How are you feeling today?" Apolline smiled at Rob who greeted her back. Getting him to say his greetings in itself took her two months and eight sessions. Sometimes he even told her how he was feeling. Today wasn't that day. It meant something had happened. He seemed more cheerful than this in the previous session.
"Did you enjoy Christmas? Did you like your gifts? Which one was your favorite?" He nodded his head once but he didn't say anything beyond that.
She was fishing for the issue. She could try again; they had plenty of time yet. Maybe this will work.
"Did you have fun playing with Fleur, Aurélie, and Val at our house?" Rob tensed at that. Success!
"I-I did." He managed to speak. Apolline raised her eyebrows at him to signify her curiosity. Something happened during the Christmas party at our house. That is what is making him angry. Come to think of it, Fleur and Aurélie were upset about something, but they refused to talk about it. Could it be the same thing?
"You seem stressed about something, Rob. Did something happen between you and the other children?" she enquired with a comforting smile to convey to Rob that it was a safe place to make him feel easy and relaxed. Rob nodded.
"Make I ask what happened?" she asked.
Rob was silent for a few seconds but then he spoke softly, "Val said something to Fleur and Apolline." Oh no… he must have… Alain and I told Vidal Alaina about keeping Val away from the Perrot, Gage, and Tremblay boys. She didn't feel angry at Val. He was a child and he didn't know any better. It was the adults who were under a duty to teach their children to be better.
"Did he call them filthy half-breeds?" Rob looked at her in surprise, an emotion he hadn't shown before.
"How did you know that?" Apolline smiled sadly at her Godson.
"It isn't the first time a Veela has been called that, and I'm afraid it won't be the last." Rob looked at her in confusion. Right. Time to for a lesson.
She went on to note the different beings which existed in the world. Humans, Goblins, Giants, Vampires, Elves, Veela, Werewolves, Centaurs, and the Merpeople. He was especially fascinated by the concept of intermarriages in between the different species, and it made Apolline happy to see her Godson was an open minded child with a deep curiosity towards learning. Rob wasn't angry anymore, but confused and curious. It was better than being angry, in her opinion.
"But Auntie, why did Val say that to Fleur and Aurélie? Why did he make them cry?"
She sighed sadly, "Because not everyone is as liberal as us, Rob."
"Liberal? What does that mean, Auntie?" I should probably keep this simpler for him. He's too young to understand these things properly, yet.
"Open-minded, accepting." She offered and Rob made an 'oh' sound which made her want to squeal in delight but she was able to control herself. This was a far better session than she had hoped. Perhaps the best on yet.
"You see, Rob, even amongst humans, there are so many different types. Muggles, the one I told you about who can't use magic. Us, who can use magic, and squibs, who can't use magic but are born to those who can. People hate those who are different, and Fleur and Aurélie are just different than others, but not greater or lesser than them. They're equal, but different." She explained and Rob gained a contemplative look on his face, as if he was trying to make sense of it, even if it wasn't making a whole lot of it.
"Are you a Veela, too, Auntie Apolline? What about Auntie Céleste?" She smiled and nodded.
"She is one, too. Our mothers are Veela, and our fathers are Human. It makes us half-Veela/half-Human." Apolline explained with a smile to Rob who returned it. Be still, my beating heart.
"But Auntie, Val isn't like that! He's nice most of the time. I still don't understand why he said it." Rob protested.
"Rob, right now I'm explaining to you what is right and what is wrong, aren't I?" she questioned and Rob nodded. "Somethings weren't explained to Val. Rather, they weren't explained that well to him. He didn't know any better, and that was why he said those bad words. It doesn't make him bad, you're right. But it still has to be corrected, you understand that, don't you?" her Godson nodded at that.
"Did someone ever call you that, Auntie? Do people treat you differently because you are a half-Veela?" he asked her politely. She had expected that question and nodded her head.
"Yes, when I was a child, but not since I grew up. Now they just stare at me, or give me bad looks when they think I'm not watching and things like that." Despite her best effort to remain calm and not show her emotions, she failed.
Rob picked up on that, got up from his seat and walked towards her. He hugged her sitting form, and she could feel his hesitation but he did it nonetheless. He thought I'm sad and angry and he went out of his way to comfort me for it. This was the first time he had initiated physical contact with her.
She warmly returned his hug. My brave Rob. My brave son.
Robert Grindelwald's POV
Tuesday, 24th March, 1987 (Lestrange Manor, Versailles, France, – Evening)
He'd woken up late today. It was his eleventh birthday. His Godfather, Nicholas Flamel and his wife, Perenelle Flamel, had arrived the previous night. They were nearly seven hundred years old, Rob could never keep count, but he supposed he should; old people were very touchy about their age. What does it even matter when you're both nearly fossils?
Uncle Vidal, Auntie Alaina, Val, Auntie Apolline, Uncle Alain, Fleur, Gabrielle, Uncle Francois, Auntie Céleste, Aurélie, and Grandpa Dumbledore would be here anytime soon, and he had to look presentable before them, as the heir to House Lestrange, and as the young Lord of House Grindelwald.
Manners and customs were important, as Grandma Nozéa kept reminding him. It would also help impress Grandpa Vidal; his Father's Uncle from his Mother's side. He was a stern man.
He saw their use, but he didn't understand why other families like the Gages, the Perrots, and the Tremblays kept going on about their views of people of mixed heritages. Robert did not share those views, and he believed everyone had their purpose and value in life. He was lucky his Grandmother had taught him to value everyone, and to get ahead in life without racial or blood discrimination. After all, the Delacour and Dumont kids were all ¼ Veela. He had seen how some people sneered at them behind their backs, and it disgusted him.
Magic was magic, and non-humans like Veela, Elves, Goblins, Centaurs, and Vampires, all deserved to use it freely.
Although, he thought with a smirk, she never said anything about not manipulating people or beings. Or lying to their faces with a smile on one's face. She would've made an excellent Slytherin had she went to Hogwarts instead of Beauxbatons.
As far as he was concerned, he'd freely manipulate anyone he could without looking at their blood status or species. Slytherin was the house he wished to be sorted into. He had heard it rewarded greatness from Grandpa Dumbledore, and it had piqued his interest.
In a few months, his acceptance letter from Hogwarts would arrive. From there, he'd be able to learn more about magic. Rob was very excited about formally starting his education, despite the head start he had received.
Grandpa Nick had started teaching him the basics of magic two years ago when he had turned nine. He still didn't get his own wand, but he was allowed to use a spare practice wand to practice his basic spell work.
Fleur, Aurélie, Val, and Rob had started learning magic at roughly the same time, with only Fleur being a year younger than them. Rob had been tutored by the Flamel patriarch, Fleur and Aurélie by Grandma Perenelle, and Val had been tutored by his Father himself, who had the strictest of standards when it came to learning.
Davet, Aurélie's older brother, was the one Rob looked up to, though. He was the oldest of them all. He was close to finishing his 3rd year at Beauxbatons, and an exceptional student. Top of his class, highly intelligent, a once in a generation prodigy at Charms, Alchemy, Potions, and exceptional at every subject he took at Beauxbatons, he was highly praised by everyone who knew him.
He was a good duelist too, and Rob was never able to beat him, although he had come close to taking him by surprise the last time they had dueled. The adults had congratulated him for that, for having done so great against a 3rd year who had a good three years on him, his own wand to channel his magic more efficiently, and he hadn't even attending school yet.
High praise indeed, but Robert was not going to be satisfied until he had beaten him, and more. One day I'll be the best duelist in the world.
He was sad that Davet wasn't able to attend his birthday, but his older brother in all but blood and name was at school. Duty calls, I suppose. Plus, from what he mentioned in his last letter, the fairer sex has been showering him with attention lately. Le crétin (The bastard)! He probably loves it.
Rob grinned goofily to himself. I wonder if Hogwarts will be like that for me, too. If they don't run away at the sound of my surname, that is. His thought slightly dampened at that.
Oh well, another reason why Slytherin might not be that bad, given its track record with dark wizards and witches. It seemed far more… open minded towards certain notions.
A knock on his door distracted him from the setting sun in the sky he was looking at from his bedroom's window. "Come in, Irma." He called out.
A house elf dressed in a maids robes walked in and bowed, "Master Grindelwald, Mistress Lestrange has sent Irma to retrieve you. The guests are about to arrive, and Mistress wants you to formally greet them." At Hogwarts, he would be Lord Grindelwald and he had to act a certain way as befitting the Lord of a Noble and Most Ancient House, and the heir of another.
Rob smiled, yet he didn't turn away from the window, "You never greet me with my name." he mock pouted, and he could feel Irma stifle her laughter.
Irma smiled as she raised her head, "It's Irma's duty to greet you as your rank deserves, Master." Rob turned around at that and walked to Irma who beamed at him. He gently fondled her head as her smile widened.
"One day you'll greet me with as Rob."
"Good luck, Master Grindelwald."
Rob snorted in amusement before Irma hugged him. Her small arms barely reached his thighs as his five 'three height was a bit more than two feet for him. He returned the hug as the elf gushed his praises.
Soon, they were downstairs in the living room and standing before his Grandmother, the Lestrange matriarch. She was seventy eight years old, but still as formidable as ever. Although her back might protest that point.
"You're thinking about my back."
"Merde (shit)!" Nozéa smacked Rob's arm with her cane, and smirked as Rob yelped.
"One, don't be crass. Two, practice your Occlumency." Rob grumbled but suddenly grinned at his Grandmother with a mock two finger salute, as Nozéa frowned.
"Be serious." She scowled.
"But I'm Robert, not Sirius. He's in Azkaban! Is that what you think of me, my Lady? Je vais te faire plus mal que ça (You hurt my heart and my soul)." Rob whined.
"Je vais blesser plus de choses que ça (I will hurt more than that)!" her scowl deepened.
Nozéa Lestrange's POV
Tuesday, 24th March, 1987 (Lestrange Manor, Versailles, France, – Evening)
Her grandson was extremely talented; some would say he was beyond prodigious for his age, but by all that was holy, he was an annoying little shit when no one was around. Then again, this was a side he had reserved only for the select few who had a place in his heart.
At that moment, green flames burst from the floo in the manor's living room where they were supposed to stand in waiting for their guests. She was almost impressed at how swiftly Rob schooled his features before he greeted Albus, who was apparently the first to arrive. Rob formally greeted Albus with a bow,
"Welcome to Lestrange Manor, Grandpa Albus." Nozéa wasn't sure if he was being serious or making a joke. His tone was that neutral.
Albus bowed back, before grabbing him in a warm hug, laughing mirthfully. He then moved on to the ball room to join his old friends, the Flamels.
He was followed soon after by the Rosiers, then the Dumonts, and then the Delacours in quick succession.
Rob had practiced his manners and remembered his duties well, for he bowed before the men and shook their hands, before bowing before their wives and kissing their hands. He repeated the same gestures and added in kisses on the cheeks with a wider smile for Fleur and Aurélie who blushed, beamed and curtsied, and an even greater smile and a kiss on the forehead and cheeks for Gabrielle, who happily laughed and clapped her hands, who was just two years old and stood close to Apolline. The girls curtsied before her, and she acknowledged them with a warm smile full of joy, especially at Gabrielle.
All three of them were the spitting images of their Mothers. Fleur and Gabrielle looked nearly identical. The former had long, silvery-blonde hair that fell almost to her waist, had shiny, large, deep blue eyes, fair skin, and very white, and even teeth. The latter looked exactly the same, except she had emerald green eyes like her Father and her hair only came till her neck. Aurélie had light, fair skin, shoulder length dark brown hair, and deep blue eyes. She did not have the typical silvery-blonde hair that most Veela offspring had, but that only served to enchant her beauty. Her smile could dazzle an entire crowd, and she had one the most pleasant temperaments Nozéa had ever seen.
All three of them had angelic faces, and would grow up to be extremely beautiful, more so than even some pure blooded Veela. She loved all three of them as her own granddaughters. They had brought a lot of joy in Rob's life ever since he had come to live in France.
Gabrielle was the apple of Rob's eye, and she brought out the best in him. Ever since she was born, Robert had smiled more often, laughed more often, and cried less often in his sleep, and Nozéa couldn't be more grateful for it. For the lament of death could only be replaced by the epic of life, and that was what Gabrielle was for her grandson since her daughter and son-in-law had been murdered.
By the time her thoughts had ended, Rob had already finished greeting Valerius, his first cousin once removed through his Father's Uncle, Lord Vidal Rosier. Valerius was smart, respectful, ambitious, and the apple of his parents' eye. He was Rob's best friend, and she loved him like her own grandson.
After the adults finished greeting each other, they moved to join the Flamels and Albus in the ball room.
Albus Dumbledore's POV
Tuesday, 24th March, 1987 (Lestrange Manor, Versailles, France, – Night)
Albus wasn't one for drinking, but tonight was a special occasion. Amidst friends who were as good as family, it was called for. Joining him on the balcony overlooking the gardens were Nicholas and Perenelle. The Delacours were in the living room with Nozéa. The adult Dumonts and Rosiers had left for their abodes.
All the children were playing in the gardens. They were all staying the night, and Albus could see the joy on Robert's face from afar as he sipped on his firewhiskey. It burned its way down his throat, and Albus loved it.
Nicholas joined him in leaning against the railing, "He looks happy. He smiles more often now." He commented on seeing Rob laugh as he twirled Fleur around. The young Veela was giggling as they danced together. Aurélie was dancing with Valerius, beaming at her partner, and even the normally aloof Rosier heir was smiling. "They look so beautiful together."
Albus laughed, "Thinking of playing match maker again, are you?" Nicholas snorted in response as Albus chuckled even more. "How is Rob progressing?"
"In what?"
"In everything. It's been a while since I received an update, and who better to ask than you, old friend?" Albus joked, as Nicholas flipped him off before sipping on his drink.
Nicholas stayed silent for a few seconds, "He's a genius, Albus." Nicholas began, "He takes to magic like a fish does to water. He just turned eleven years old, yet I've never seen any child with such talent in all my years. Whatever I've taught him, he's mastered it all."
"Define 'mastered'." Albus's interest was piqued.
"Rob's learnt every spell taught in the first three years of Hogwarts's syllabus, and he's already practicing fourth and fifth year material. He's started practicing how to cast spells non-verbally and wandlessly. He's just eleven years old Albus, and with the determination that he's taking to his studies, he might master both before he begins his fourth year." Albus was taken aback.
"He hasn't gotten his own wand yet, has he?" Albus asked. Nicholas shook his head.
"No. The practice wand I gave him felt a bit cold to his touch, yet he somehow managed to make it respond to his will."
"Describe the wand's properties."
"Ash. Eleven inches. Unicorn hair. Unyielding." Albus's neck turned at breakneck speeds towards Nicholas, who shrugged his shoulders. "I told you he's gifted."
"But that's impossible! That combination couldn't possibly let anyone other than its original owner utilise its power. Least of all a child who hasn't even begun at Hogwarts yet!"
The ancient wizard smiled, "Come now, my dear student. Did you forget the first lesson I taught you?"
Albus gained a reflective look in his eye as he slowly turned back to gaze at the children playing in the gardens. "You kept reminding me how I am the very embodiment of magical intent, so no, I didn't forget."
Nicholas nodded, "His intent to better himself is far stronger than anyone I've ever met, and his commitment to improve is on the level of his Father, yourself, Gellert, and, dare I say, even Tom."
Albus slumped as he sighed deeply, he suddenly looked even older than he was, "And whose fault is that? That a child supposed to enjoy life is driven to focus so much on improving himself? And for what purpose? To gain vengeance from a dead man?" he bitterly said. "If only I ha-" he was rudely interrupted by the sound of Nicholas snorting.
His glare made the Flamel patriarch look at him in surprise, "Oh, now you suddenly decide to lose that fucking twinkle in your eye? Sweet Jesus! You are so ridiculous." He mocked as Albus's glare intensified. "Oh come off of it, seriously, look at him closely!" They had switched and now Robert was dancing with Aurélie and Fleur was dancing with Valerius.
A Muggle song was playing on the gramophone, one that Robert had sung occasionally, Don't Stop Believin' by an American band called Journey. Albus smiled fondly as he remembered attending opera shows in Muggle London with Gellert during end of the nineteenth century. Before everything started going downhill.
"Does he look like he's not having fun? He's got two Veela eating out of his hands and you think he's not doing well? Have you gone senile?" Nicholas shook his head, "You worry too much, Albus. He's fine. I've trained him in how to use Occlumency to protect his mind and calm himself. He's been practicing it for nearly a year now. It's done wonders for his health." Nicholas assured him.
"What about his nightmares? He was having them every other week last year."
"He hasn't had one in over six months." Albus nodded at that. This is good news, very good news. I guess I was too worried, after all. However, one can never be too cautious. If time has taught me anything, it's that. I will keep a close eye over Robert's state of mind when he comes to Hogwarts.
"You've done well, old friend. His parents made no mistake in making you his godfather." Nicholas bowed in appreciation, before he quickly finished his drink in on gulp, and sighed in pleasure as it burned its way down his throat.
"I aim to please, as always."
"Nozéa also told me he's picked up on your sense of humour."
"And they say the stone is my most prized possession. Some people, huh?
"Touché."
"Now who's the one sounding old, eh? Wait, why are you looking at me like that? Is it something on my face? Merde! She's behind me isn't she?" Albus tuned out his quirky friend as he turned to mitigate Perenelle, who had stormed over to give her husband an ear lashing over drinking more than one glass. She'd been counting.
This was why he didn't marry and was looking forward to the next great adventure. Imagine being married to someone for more than six hundred years. Merde, indeed!
Fleur Delacour's POV
Thursday, 30th July 1987 (Place Cachée, Paris, France – Evening)
She was both excited and disheartened at the same time; excited for Aurélie and Val who'd be going off to Beauxbatons in a month, and disheartened because she still had to wait for a year to join them, and Rob was going off to Hogwarts. She was excited for him, too, she really was, but, he was her best friend. He was leaving her.
Well, he wasn't. But it still hurt.
A little over four months ago, it seemed like a joke. He had lived in France for more than six years now. She had always thought he'd go to Beauxbatons, and she'd follow him in a year. Six years with him, Aurélie, Val, it seemed like a distant dream now that they were shopping in Place Cachée.
Aurélie and Val had taken it better than her. They were disappointed, of course, but they didn't take it personal like she had.
Aurélie and Valerius were currently at Cosme Acajor's wand shop to get their wands. Maman and Auntie Céleste were at Maison Capenoir, right next door, looking for some new clothes of the latest fashion trends. That left her alone with Rob at K. Rammelle's Enchantée, with Rob's house-elf Irma close by in case they needed anything. They were sitting in one of the corner booths, reserved well in advance by maman.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw Rob looking at her intensely, "What eez eet?" she asked softly. Rob frowned at her.
"You're doing it again, and you haven't even touched your food."
"Doing what? And I'm not 'ungry."
Robert wiped his mouth with a handkerchief, "Overthinking about my decision to choose Hogwarts over Beauxbatons. And you're lying to me, you were talking about having the Bouillabaisse all morning." He said as he looked at her again, "Fleur, we talked about why this has to happen." Rob softly reminded Fleur as she scoffed.
"And am I supposed to just accept eet like zat? To be left alone 'ere, away from my best friend?" her cheeks flushed in anger as her eyes hardened, "I don't want you to go." she grumbled.
Rob looked at her tenderly, "I have to go." He softly replied.
"Well, zen I need you to stay!" Fleur said loudly and then her shoulders slumped as if the fight was knocked out of her already, "Please don't go." She whimpered as her eyes grew teary before she quickly wiped at them.
Rob looked at her for a few seconds and then without saying anything, he got up from his seat and moved across the table to sit next to Fleur. She turned to look at him with a pleading look in her eyes, before Rob took her in his arms and tightly hugged her. She struggled against him initially, not wanting his pity, but when he pulled back and placed his hands on her cheeks and leaned his head forward against her forehead, she couldn't help but relax. "I have to go Fleur, my Parents went to Hogwarts. I want to share this connection with them. Your acceptance of this would mean the world to me, do you know that?" his voice was so soothing she couldn't help but nod in acceptance as she weakly smiled at him. He smiled back at her and he kissed her cheeks. She blushed lightly.
Robert had this way of knowing what to say or do around her. He was the only one who could calm her down when she was upset. Even maman and papa relied on him to calm her down when was really angry, and only came to talk her after she had settled down.
He was like her other half. I want 'im to be my other 'alf. 'e's not like ze other boys. 'e doesn't treat me differently because I'm a Veela, and 'e loves me and Gabrielle and Aurélie very much, and maman and papa love 'im, too. Maman 'elped Lady Nozéa raise 'im. She thinks of 'im as 'er son. Eef we get married, 'e will be 'er son-in-law.
Fleur heard Rob say something and she was distracted from her thoughts. "Did you say anything?" she asked and Rob chuckled as he let go of her cheeks and grinned. He was about to repeat himself, when the bell at the door rang due to the door opening and Aurélie and Val walked in and towards their table. Aurélie, the clumsy girl that she was nearly knocked into a waitress who grumbled at her to be careful, and she apologized with a curtsy as she twirled for her. The waitress smiled, her bad mood going away instantly, and she walked away, completely missing Aurélie blowing her a silent raspberry.
When weel she grow up? Why does she get to be immature and still go on to enjoy Beauxbatons before me? Life ees not fair. Ughhh!
"Bonjour (Hello) Aurélie, Val." Rob gave a smile to Aurélie who beamed back at him, and Val nodded at him. "Did you get your wands yet?"
Aurélie gained an excited glint in her eye as she brandished her wand, Fleur could see the happiness on Aurélie's face, and seeing it mellowed out her jealousy a bit. It wasn't right to be envious of her friends. Her time would come soon enough. Rob was now trying to guess the properties of her wand. He was always the most sensitive to magic out of their age group.
"Unicorn hair, most likely. It suits your gentle and kind nature." Aurélie smiled, indicating Rob guessed correctly, and motioned for him to continue. Rob was twirling her wand in his hands, trying to feel the wand. He was curious about every form of magic, even wandlore, although he wasn't good at it.
"I have no idea which wood is this. I know of just seven, and this isn't one of them." Rob gave up after a few minutes. Aurélie giggled.
"It's Willow, eleven inches, and nice and supple in nature. Best suited for healing out of all wand woods. I want to be the best alchemist in the world one day, and this wand will help me with potions and Herbology and alchemy." Rob gained a contemplative look on his face at that.
"I guess that makes sense, you've trained with Grandma Perenelle for nearly two years now. I'm certain you'll blow everyone at Beauxbatons away with your talent." Aurélie brightened up at and leaned forward to land multiple kisses all over Rob's face at that, who grinned goofily, making everyone laugh at his antics. "You're nice and supple, too. I guess Ballet lessons did pay off." Even Val snorted in laughter at that.
Fleur turned to Val. He was a handsome boy nearly as tall as Rob, but a bit more muscular than him. He had fair skin a shade darker than her own, emerald green eyes like her Father and Gabrielle, and jet black hair like his Father. He had a very handsome face, and Fleur could easily see why Aurélie had a crush on him, just like she had one on Rob. "What about your wand, Val?" she asked him. He smiled with pride as he presented it.
"Ebony, thirteen inches, Phoenix feather, and quite rigid in nature."
Rob laughed at that, "Just like its master." Val smirked at that, giving a mock two finger salute in response.
Listening to everyone laugh put Fleur's mind at ease. Maybe I'm just overreacting. We'll be alright, I'm sure of it.
Robert Grindelwald's POV
Friday, 31st July 1987 (Diagon Alley, London, England, Great Britain - Afternoon)
Paris had a nice magical business hub, but Hogwarts had a specific list of books and uniforms and cauldrons which were only available at Diagon Alley. Rob had heard from the adults that the Potions Professor, Severus Snape, was the harshest out of all the Professors, and he was also the Head of House Slytherin. Disappointing him was not an option, considering that Slytherin was the house he was aiming for.
London's Wizarding Quarter was divided in three districts; the upper, middle and lower districts. The upper district was formally comprised of the more expensive Diagon Alley South Side; also known as the higher upper district, which was completely comprised of buildings owned by the Pure-blood families of wizarding Britain, and Diagon Alley North Side; also known as the lower upper district, which was mostly owned comprised of buildings owned by Gringotts and the Pure-blood families, who leased them to many businesses. A small portion of this section of Diagon Alley was owned by other wizarding families who had gained wealth over the decades.
The middle district comprised of Horizont Alley and Carkitt Market. This was the section which was comprised of buildings owned by Muggle-borns and Half-blood families, but mostly by Gringotts.
The lower district was completely comprised of Knockturn Alley, and it was the largest section of London's Wizarding Quarter.
Grandma Nozéa had taken him to The Leaky Cauldron in the lower upper district for lunch. She usually didn't frequent such establishments, preferring to dine at one of the fancier establishments in the higher upper district, but she said it'd be good for him to get to know more about the more frequented shops in Diagon Alley. He trusted her judgement in such matters.
The bartender, Tom, was a nice enough man. He was hunched back, had very few teeth in his mouth, and the few which were still hanging in there were extremely yellow. Beautiful, really.
They had ordered deer game pie, alongside some mint tea and iced water. Lady Lestrange wouldn't be caught dead ordering butterbeer.
They were sipping tea after finishing their main meal when Rob heard his Grandmother speak his name. He looked up at her, "Yes, Grandma?"
"After we're finished with the purchases for today, I'll take you to Gringotts to officially hand over your vault key for the… Grindelwald accounts." Rob nodded at her whispering the name towards the end, he was expecting this. Keeping a low profile was preferable. They did not need the extra attention so early on into his return to Wizarding Britain.
As per wizarding law, the assets of wizards and witches under the age of eleven were looked after by their guardians, and in a situation where a guardian was not available, it was the goblins at Gringotts who personally managed their accounts.
Which was a nice way to say that they were fucked financially in the long run. The goblins were notorious for stealing from unclaimed accounts as there were no beneficiaries who could sue them via the Wizengamot. This was why his Grandmother had laid claim to the Lestrange assets when Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange were imprisoned in Azkaban for life in late nineteen eighty one for the brutal torture of the Longbottoms. It allowed representatives of the relevant family to audit the accounts for discrepancies, and keep the goblins in check. However, it did not mean that they could withdraw any funds from those accounts, but only oversee them. As far as the law was concerned, only Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange could do that.
The same went for the Black family. With Sirius Black imprisoned for life for betraying the Potters, The Black family was in a state of disarray. The elderly Arcturus Black III was still the patriarch, but his son, Orion Black and one grandson, Regulus Black II had predeceased him. The other, grandson, Sirius Black, had been imprisoned for life in Azkaban for giving up the Potters to Voldemort. Arcturus Black III's spare heirs were his equally elderly first cousin, Pollux Black, and his son Cygnus Black III.
Most of the purebloods were keeping an eye on the state of affairs of the Black family, considering their vast fortune was up for grabs in case its male line ended. In that case, the main contenders for the fortune would be Cygnus Black III's daughter, Narcissa Malfoy. I'm the other contender. As grandson to Regulus Black I, he had a stronger claim, but bribery was the way of the Pure-bloods, and the Malfoys had more than he did. It would be a tough legal battle.
Thinking about Sirius Black left a bitter taste in his mouth. They were second cousins through Arcturus Black III and Regulus Black I, his grandfather, having been brothers. Rob detested Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and the very notion of his own blood being one of them in secret sickened him to his core.
His thoughts then ventured to the young heir, Neville Longbottom who was only seven years old and lived with his Grandmother, Lady Augusta Longbottom. If I ever meet him, I'd like to befriend him. We're kindred brothers in a way.
His thoughts also went to the Potter family, and that was when his thoughts went back to his own parents, flashes of green, and cruel laughter which had haunted his dreams for years, but he overcame that feeling within a second by using Occlumency to calm his mind, taking deep breaths.
"Quel est le problème, mon cher (What's wrong, dear)?" His Grandmother's voice was very tender this time. He looked at her to see her features were tense. She only talked to him French like that when she was either angry or upset or concerned.
He hadn't seen her like that in months now. He'd have liked to keep it that way. She did not deserve to keep fretting over him in her later years. She deserved better. Fool. Look what you did! I'll have to practice Occlumency even more to overcome this lapse. I'll be honest and upfront with her, and it'll reassure her feelings.
Rob warmly smiled at his Grandmother and he gently clasped her hand in his, entwining their fingers to comfort her. "Tout va bien, ma Grand-mère bien-aimée (Nothing is wrong, my beloved Grandma). I was just lost in my memories for a second there, there's nothing to worry about. Occlumency has helped me a lot." His honesty seemed to have done the trick.
This was what he had learnt in his interaction with people. If they asked you if something was wrong and you said, no, nothing is wrong, they'd never believe you even if they made it look like they did. That was when he had tried giving them little pieces of the truth to test them, and it appeared to give better results.
Lies were useful tools, but so were truths. Fleur had unwittingly provided him with a lot of practice in that regard. She used to fret more than his other friends, and she still did.
Nozéa warmly smiled at him as she patted his cheek, "Alright. Now then, back to business. Before we go to Gringotts, you should go ahead to get your wand. Irma and I will go and get everything else on the list. We'll meet outside Gringotts in two hours."
They left the establishment soon after that and went their separate ways. Soon Rob was outside Ollivanders. Peeling gold letters over the door of the shop read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
Rob entered the shop. It was narrow and shabby from the inside, and the shop's display consisted of a solitary wand lying on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. The shop was tiny, empty except for a single, spindly chair in the corner. Thousands of narrow boxes containing wands were piled right up to the ceiling of the tiny shop, and the whole place had a thin layer of dust about it. You'd think the owner would clean up every once in a while. That dust is probably from 382 B.C.!
"Welcome, welcome." A kind voice greeted him and Rob saw an old man with pale silvery eyes, white hair, and white skin emerge from within one of the rows. "My name is Ollivander, Garrick Ollivander, proprietor of Ollivanders and you," the old man smiled warmly at him, a curious glint was dancing in his eyes, "You're Lord Grindelwald, aren't you?" Rob shook his extended hand and returned his smile.
"Can't say I've been referred by that before by anyone. Well, anyone except my house-elf, that is." Garrick laughed loudly at that.
"There's a first time for everything, my dear boy. You'll get used to it in England. We're very proud of traditions, more so than in France." Well aware, indeed. "Now, you're in need of a wand, yes? Stay right here, I'll be right back." The wandmaker retreated back into the shadows after that.
"I remember every single one of my customers, my Lord, and it seems just like yesterday that your parents walked through that door to buy their wands." Garrick shared, "Although, I can't seem to remember which houses they were sorted into."
"My Mother was sorted into Ravenclaw, and my Father was sorted into Slytherin." Robert shared.
"Terrible shame what happened to them at the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. My condolences." Robert tensed at that. He appreciated the condolences, but that cowardly name did not settle right with him. In France, they called him Celui-dont-on-ne-noit-pas-prononcer-le-nom, which translated into what the wandmaker called him.
"Thank you." Garrick kindly smiled at him as he returned with a box in his hands, "I feel supremely confident that this wand was made for a wizard like you. Try it." He placed the box on the front desk and gently pulled out the wand. "Blackthorn, Dragon heartstring from a most vicious Hungarian Horntail, fourteen inches, unyielding. A powerful wand. Handle it with care, Lord Grindelwald. It will serve you well should you choose the path of a warrior."
It was beautiful. It was majestic. And he knew just the right spell and method to test it out.
Please work, otherwise I'd be embarrassed in front of this quirky fool. He took the wand from the shop owner's extended hand, and the way it vibrated in his hands assured him that it would work.
Garrick gasped in surprise as he saw a non-verbal Lumos brighten up his entire shop, the intensity of which made him cover his eyes until it receded. "Unbelievable." He muttered in surprise.
Rob twirled his new wand in his hands. It was perfect. "How much for this, my Lord?"
"Seven Galleons, and please, no need to call me that. You may call me Garrick. It's an honour to sell a wand to a future prodigy." Garrick wistfully said, "My Father used to tell me about how he sold Albus Dumbledore his first wand. When I took over the family business in the nineteen thirties, I never thought I'd sell a wand to a prodigy like he described. I think I just managed to do that for the third time in my lifetime." He laughed again. "A non-verbal Lumos by a child about to begin his first year at Hogwarts? Brilliant, absolutely brilliant!" Third? The other two must be Father and Voldemort.
Rob bowed his head in appreciation, "I had good teachers and I studied hard, that's all." He placed seven galleons on the wandmaker's counter before leaving the shop to make his way over to Gringotts.
Gringotts Wizarding Bank was located in an imposing snow-white multistoried marble building located partway down Diagon Alley, near its intersection with Knockturn Alley, which towered over the neighbouring shops.
Rob knew about Knockturn Alley. His Grandma had warned him to not venture in there alone, with vampires, werewolves, dark wizards, criminals of all kinds, hags, and all sorts of dangers lurking in there.
He was also willing to bet the Aurors were keeping a watch over it, too. An eleven year old student yet to begin his education at Hogwarts would draw the wrong kind of attention. Maybe when he was older and actually knew someone who had business in Knockturn Alley, he'd go there but not before.
Rob non-verbally and wandlessly tried casting Tempus, but it didn't work. I still need more practice. Tempus is one of the easiest spells to cast in existence. It worked when he cast it non-verbally with his wand. I still have an hour and fifteen minutes. What can I do to pass the time? Ah, isn't there a famous ice cream shop in Diagon Alley?
He asked a kindly old man for directions, and he soon stood in front of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Apparently he sold the best ice cream in wizarding Britain. Rob walked in and was greeted by a man who was in his mid-fifties from his appearance. He introduced himself as Florean Fortescue and gave him a menu to pick his flavours from. "Do you offer ice cream milkshakes in these flavours, Mr. Fortescue?" the shopkeeper smiled and nodded at which Rob ordered one with a scoop of vanilla and a scoop of cookies and cream.
"Pardon me, but are you per chance Lord Vidal Rosier's nephew?" a male voice called out to him from behind him. Rob turned around to see a man nearly nineteen years of age, dressed in immaculate robes as befitting one of the noble Pure-bloods of wizarding Britain. He had strong cheekbones, chocolate brown hair and eyes, white skin and even though he had a smile on his face, the calculating gaze in his eyes made Rob slightly vary. He knows exactly who I am. Uncle Vidal probably told him to help me keep a low profile, but I don't know he is.
Rob smiled at the stranger, "Indeed I am. Rosier, Robert Rosier from the French branch. How do you do, my Lord?" Rob bowed his head in respect, and the stranger grinned before he bowed back with equal respect. He knows I intentionally hid the Grindelwald and Lestrange names. Even though more than forty years have passed, the Grindelwald name could possibly draw suspicion, and the less said about the British branch of the Lestranges, the better.
"Rosier, Felix Rosier, Lord of the Noble And Most Ancient House of Rosier of Britain." Felix politely introduced himself, "But all walls have ears, we should have our conversation in a more… private setting. Please, let me treat you today as a welcome back to home." He offered. Rob accepted, it was a wise thing to get to know people like Felix.
Besides, his Grandmother was a Rosier, so they were family. I have nothing to fear here, I think. Even though the Rosiers in Britain did support Tom. "Very clever of you to introduce yourself the way you did. You're biding your time before your return is formally announced. I don't think more than a handful of people realised who you are, and The Daily Prophet won't out you until September." Felix grinned.
"I think I remember you, my Lord. You sent me an emerald green cloak crafted from Dragon hide, and an all-black set of Dragon hide clothing on my birthday in March, but how did you recognise me?" Rob observed at which Felix grinned proudly.
"They were made from the remains of an old Ukrainian Ironbelly that died a natural death a year ago. It wasn't well, and I'd booked its parts as soon as I heard about its imminent demise." Felix shared, "I've recently graduated from Hogwarts, and I'm keen to work as a dragonologist. I've gotten an offer from the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary, and I'll be joining them in September. To answer your question, I asked Lord Vidal for a photograph, and he obliged my request. He, too, thought it for the best if we meet." That was a generous gift, probably the best of the lot. Then again, it wouldn't faze a rich Pure-blood at all to get something like that. I bet he ordered one for himself, too. "What about you, my Lord? You're beginning at Hogwarts this year, am I correct?"
Florean brought their orders at that moment. His ice cream shake looked heavenly, and he saw that Felix had ordered the mango delight. A good choice. The older Pure-blood took out his wand pointed it around their table and chanted "Muffliato". "There, some real privacy. If you don't know about this spell, it's a fifth year charm which is used to fill the ears of any person in the vicinity of the caster with an unidentifiable buzzing sound so as to allow for conversation without being overheard." Felix explained, and Rob was intrigued by the spell. It wasn't in his notes which he made off from Grandpa Nick's lessons, which meant that Britain and France probably had certain unique spells.
He could use his unique spells he learnt from his French friends and relatives as a trump card, all the while learning spells like this at Hogwarts. "Could you cancel it out for a bit?" Rob asked and Felix was confused.
"Why?"
"I want to try it out myself. How is it cast?" Felix grinned at that, Rob hadn't even started yet and he thought he could cast a fifth year charm that soon? Doubtful, but he'd indulge him.
"Just point your wand and chant 'Muffliato'."
Rob drew his wand and pointed just as Felix had and said the incantation. He could probably manage it non-verbally, but it was best to not cast it like that in front of Felix.
Rob didn't figure out if it worked, but when Felix looked at him with slightly wide eyes, he understood.
"I was told by Lord Vidal that you were talented, but I didn't know you were this talented!" he praised with a genuine smile on his face. They finished their shakes after that before the ice cream started to melt. "It is good to meet family. I am the only Rosier alive in Britain, and the war divided the Rosier families of France and Britain." Felix shared sadly, "My Father, David Rosier, and brother, Evan Rosier, were both Death Eaters. I was raised by Lord Corban Yaxley after their deaths; he's my godfather."
"Do you take to their beliefs?" Rob bluntly asked and Felix was silent for a few seconds.
"If you're asking if I believe in Pure-blood supremacy, then yes, I do. The ministry is bankrupt, the goblins run the only bank in the wizarding world, and it's the Pure-bloods who finance everything in our system." He explained, "Without us, everything would cease to exist as it is and there would be utter chaos. Other than that," he paused for a second, as if he was thinking his words over, "I don't believe that Muggle-borns don't deserve magic. They were born with it, and they are essential in our society, but they must know their place." I certainly did not expect that. Auntie Apolline and Grandma Perenelle explained that the British Pure-blood families are extremely prejudiced.
Felix caught up on his chain of thought from his expressions. "I bet you thought of all British Pure-blood families as extremely prejudiced." He guessed with a smirk and chuckled when Rob nodded in surprise.
"It's nothing new and you wouldn't be completely wrong, if I were to be honest. You see, of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the Dark Lord was supported by quite a few families, and the Black, Lestrange, Parkinson, Travers, Carrow, Avery, Flint, Malfoy, Rosier, Rowle, and Bulstrode Houses took those views to the extreme. None more so than the Lestranges, Blacks, and the Rosiers."
Rob nodded at that, he showed his interest quite openly to Felix. Here was a distant relative who was being very straight forward and honest, and it could really help him in the future. He obviously didn't have any motive to convert him to Tom's cause, with his parents being victims of the Dark Lord, so maybe it was simply a case of giving out free help. It didn't mean his guard wasn't up, of course. Father made that mistake, and he ended up dead. I will not end up like him.
"But there are others like the Greengrasses under Sebastian Greengrass, Yaxleys under Corban Yaxley and the Rosiers now under my leadership, who believe in the old ways but also have a more pragmatic approach towards reality. Money runs the country, and it is the Pure-bloods who will lead the country, as they always have." Felix finished explaining his views on the subject. "What about you? What do you believe in, Lord Grindelwald?"
"You're family, so please call me Rob."
"Only if you call me Felix." He grinned. Rob nodded and returned the grin.
"You know of my grandfather, don't you?" Felix nodded solemnly. Everyone knew of Gellert Grindelwald, the third strongest wizard in history. "He believed in the superiority of all magical beings, and I've read and heard that he was supported by Giants, Veela, Vampires, Goblins, and Werewolves and other beings during his campaign." Felix nodded distastefully, "Oh? You disapprove?"
"These… beings… are devilish creatures. They are a danger to humans, to all magicals, and it is only right that they are controlled. Veela destroy families apart, the seductresses that they are. The vampires feed on humans, the werewolves infect our children with their curse. Why shouldn't I disapprove?"
Valid points, but two can play that game. "And what do you propose, Felix? Should we launch wars against all non-humans? Did magic not come to them as it came to humans? Do we not use the knowledge of centaurs for healing and astronomy? Do house-elves not serve us? Do Veela not marry into our families and provide us with beautiful children?" Rob countered and Felix faltered at that.
"But they are dangerous!" Felix tried to argue but he seemed to have driven himself into a corner because Rob knew he had him.
"Define dangerous; if you think they are a danger to our lives then they are only dangerous if we treat them as enemies. Have we ever tried to make peace with them, to help them figure out their roles in a human dominated society? And there is nothing wrong with human dominance, we are the most powerful species after all, ever since we learned magic from the Fae. But if we hold genocidal urges towards other beings, then we will only weaken ourselves, and the Muggles will become more powerful." Rob argued coolly.
Felix was silent at that. He was looking at him with a harsh gaze, which was to be expected. Pure-bloods were like that, but he didn't say anything for over a minute. "How did you come to hold those beliefs? I did not expect the Lord of Grindelwald and the heir of Lestrange, and mine own blood to hold such… modern… views." Felix at last spoke.
"They are the beliefs of my mentor, and my godfather." Felix's eyebrows rose at that, "Nicholas Flamel. I was named after him, Robert Nicholas Grindelwald." Felix's eyes widened, but then he smiled.
"This has been a very enlightening conversation, Rob. I was very excited to meet you after finishing at Hogwarts, and you did not disappoint. I am glad that we share the same views, even if there are some disagreements. However, you make some fine arguments, and I will try to view certain beings in a more neutral light from now on. You're right, magicals fighting against magicals only makes the Muggles stronger."
They still had half an hour left until Rob had to be at Gringotts, and Felix went on to tell Rob about his time at Hogwarts as a Slytherin and as a Prefect and Head Boy in his last year. He was good at Potions, Charms, and Herbology. Rob laughed at his story of using the freezing charm to help the Slytherin Quidditch team win the Quidditch cup in his fifth year. "Always remember, Rob; nothing matters more than winning. If you want to make a name for yourself and quickly at that, you have to prove your mettle in Slytherin."
"Bold of you to assume I'd be sorted in Slytherin. We've barely known each other for an hour at this point." Rob smirked.
"I'll eat my boots if you're sorted anywhere else than Slytherin." They both laughed at that. Felix provided some more advice about the to dos and not to dos at Hogwarts, and soon the time had come for them to part.
Rob was about to pay his pill when Felix told him that he didn't need to, now or ever. "The Rosiers own a third of the shares in this business, and we own the building completely." Is what Felix replied with a grin upon being asked why not. They promised to keep in touch via owl.
That reminds me. I have to get an owl, too.
He made his way back right outside of Gringotts and entered the bank. A set of white stairs lead up to a set of burnished bronze doors. The doors were flanked by a goblin in a uniform of scarlet and gold. This was the entrance to Gringotts, and it lead into a small entrance hall and another set of doors. Engraved on these silver doors were the words.
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
Through these doors, also flanked with goblins, was a vast marble hall containing long counters stretching along its length with doors leading off to the vault passageways with around a hundred goblins sitting at them. Rob had heard and read much about Gringotts and their branches around the world. The vaults extended for miles under the city and were accessible through rough stone, complex and interconnected passageways by means of magic carts that were operated by goblins. Dragons and other mysterious beasts lurked in the depths as additional security devices. Probably not an exaggeration, that last bit.
He saw Grandma Nozéa waiting for him in the hall sitting on one of the couches reserved for clients waiting for their appointments.
"Exactly on time, I've sent Irma home with the purchases. Come, we have an appointment with your accounts manager." She led him to one of the rooms behind the counters. The sign outside the room read, 'Branch Manager Ragnok'. They entered it and were warmly greeted by its occupier.
"Welcome to Gringotts, Lady Lestrange. I trust you are in good health?" Rob had heard that Goblins weren't really respectful towards wizards and witches, in fact, they were quite snarky. But his Grandmother was the Lady of the French Lestrange branch and the heir of the British Lestrange branch due to certain circumstances, and one of the richest individuals in magical Europe owing to those facts.
Goblins respected influence and power, and his Grandmother had both in plenty.
The goblin who greeted his Grandmother from behind the table was short and fair-skinned. He had very long fingers and feet, a dome-shaped head which was slightly larger than Irma's. He had a bald head, a pointed nose, and pointed ears. He had dark, slanted eyes, and wore a pointed hat alongside jewelry to signify his status as the leader of the goblins in wizarding Britain.
"I am, Ragnok. I thank you for your concern." His Grandmother replied as they took their seats. Neither of them care in the least bit about the other's health. These are just formalities. "This is my grandson and heir, Robert Nicholas Grindelwald." Rob put his hand forward to shake the goblins' hand.
Ragnok gained a surprised look in his eyes, and Rob could feel his Grandmother scowling at him but she quickly schooled her features before the goblin could notice it. After a few seconds, the goblin gave a slight smile and shook his hand firmly. His hand feels funny to the touch, but it's warm.
His Grandmother carried on, "He will inherit the Lestrange name when my time comes, but for now, I wish for him to be formally recognised as the Lord of The Noble And Most Ancient House of Grindelwald. I trust you got my owl detailing my desires in advance?" Ragnok nodded at that.
"Indeed, Lady Lestrange. I have already drafted all the necessary requirements. In order to make the transfer deed magically and legally valid, the bank and the ministry will require your signature as the transferor, and Lord Grindelwald's signature as the transferee." Ragnok placed a thick set of documents on the table and opened the relevant pages. "I have already signed it as the bank's representative, and so has the ministries' representative."
Once the documents were signed by all parties, Nozéa presented Rob with a ring and his vault key. The ring was made of pure silver with a large red diamond embedded in its center. That is goblin steel. Is that…? Nozéa smiled at Rob. "It's the Grindelwald signet ring. It was commissioned by Godric Gryffindor alongside his sword from King Ragnuk The First. It has been in your family for nearly a thousand years, and now it's yours." Rob was speechless as he tenderly grasped the ring and pocketed the key.
The ring was beautiful, and Rob felt magic swirl around him as he put it on. Ragnok explained that it was evidence that the ring had accepted him as its master, and the transfer deed was now of binding effect.
Rob saw that the goblin had gained a greedy glint in his eyes at the mention of the Sword of Gryffindor. Grandpa Nick had gone to great details to teach him about his House's history, with the most important aspect being of their ancient feud with the goblin nation regarding the sword's ownership.
Nozéa stood up to leave after that, "Meet me in the lobby after you're done getting an update about your vaults. Meanwhile, I have a meeting with Ricbert, the manager of my late husband's account. Good luck."
That's the signal for 'Don't let Ragnok cheat you through a shady deal'.
She left after that, and Rob was left alone with Ragnok after that. "Now then, my Lord. I will begin by giving you an update about what you inherited from your late Father, Lord Norbert Albus Grindelwald. Vault six hundred and eighty eight is your family vault, and it contains heirlooms and galleons worth a grand total of one hundred and thirty three thousand, seven hundred and sixty seven galleons." Rob nodded at that. It was nothing compared to the fortune of the Lestranges of France, which was worth nearly forty million galleons, making his Grandmother the fourth richest individual in magical France. Only the Tremblays, Perrots, and Gages were richer than the Lestranges, and only the Rosiers came close to matching them.
The Grindelwald family had lost a lot of their fortune due to his grandfather' uprising which costed them tens of millions of galleons in fines and costs. They were exiled from Germany, Austria and Prussia for as long as Gellert Grindelwald breathed, and Nurmengard Castle, the ancestral home of the Grindelwalds in Austria was still not returned to his family.
His Grandmother had often told him that Nurmengard was lost to his family forever, and the Austrian Ministry of Magic would never relinquish control over it. They can try.
The family name and fortune never recovered after that, and even his Father's status as a dueling champion didn't help. He had been celebrated as an international celebrity for being an undefeated duelist from his very first match as a young student at Hogwarts until he had won the World Dueling Championship three times in a row before he retired to start a family.
Then he was crucified by the 'righteous' for not participating in the war effort against Voldemort. Because he chose his family. His wife. His son.
'Hindsight is always twenty/twenty'. It was a Muggle proverb he had heard Grandpa Nick say when he was making a point about learning from one's mistakes. Part of him felt that his Father was a coward who chose the easy way out and he should have rather fought Tom. A big possibility in that scenario was that the Death Eaters would have killed him and his Mother.
Another part of him was proud of his Father for choosing his family, but it was also aware that it had tarnished the Grindelwald name in both the light and dark circles. No one trusted his family, now.
It was up to him to rebuild his family's name. Only him.
And as for maggots like Ragnok or any other goblin stood in his way out a self-righteous sense of entitlement, he planned on becoming so powerful that such trivial matters wouldn't concern him in the future. For now, I'll bide my time. I'm neither powerful enough nor intelligent enough to do anything practical to change how things are.
"You have the Grindelwald Residence in River Piddle, in Dorset County. A splendid bungalow sized at eleven thousand sq. ft. and valued at a hundred thousand galleons. Secondly, you own the ancestral manor of the Noble And Most Ancient House of Gryffindor named 'Godric's Hollow' on the outskirts of the village of Godric's Hollow in Cornwall County. The manor building and its grounds are sized at one hundred and ten thousand sq. ft., and it is valued at eight hundred thousand galleons. You also own five hundred acres of agricultural land in the village which have been leased to the ministry. They generate a rental income of ten thousand galleons per year, and their estimated value is at four hundred thousand galleons. Finally, you own two shops in the upper district, each sized at one thousand sq. ft. and worth four hundred thousand galleons each. Each generates a rental income of ten thousand galleons per year." Listening to all this was making his head hurt, and Ragnok chuckled as he noticed it.
"To summarise, your properties are worth a total of two million and one hundred thousand galleons, you have a total income of thirty thousand galleons per year, and you currently have one hundred and thirty three thousand, seven hundred and sixty seven galleons in your account." Ragnok finished explaining.
Rob asked about the whereabouts of the title documents Ragnok replied that they were located inside his fault in a secure chest with protective wards and charms which only the owner of the vault could bypass. Not even the employees of Gringotts could open it. He nodded at that. "And to whom are the shops leased to?" Rob further asked to which Ragnok nodded before answering, "Twilfitt and Tattings; a high end clothing shop, and Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop." Those could come in handy.
"This is a very good inheritance, Lord Grindelwald, although, I must tell you it is next to nothing compared to the fortunes by most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
Rob nodded at that, he wasn't concerned with making more money. What he already had was enough to last him for a lifetime, and that wasn't even counting the combined Lestrange fortune which dwarfed the fortunes of most of the families in magical Europe and Britain.
Only the Noble And Most Ancient Houses of Greengrass and Malfoy surpassed it in all of magical Europe. The French branch of the Lestranges on its own was one of the ten richest families in magical Europe. He didn't desire for more wealth, but more wealth never hurt anybody.
Rob realised that Ragnok thought he wasn't happy with the state of his accounts, and the Gringotts manager went on to list a number of investments that could be made to increase his fortune. Some of them sounded too good to be true. Some of them looked like they could be contemplated.
You never knew with goblins. They were greed incarnate. Like the dragons of myth, especially Smaug in Tolkien's The Hobbit, goblins loved to hoard treasure. The very sight of gold made them salivate, and they were ruthless businessmen who weren't afraid to rip off anyone stupid enough to enter into a deal with them.
From Lord to peasant, they fucked everyone.
He told Ragnok that he'd consider the proposals, and to owl him the particulars in France at the Lestrange Manor. Ragnok nodded and they concluded their business. Just as Rob was about to leave, however, the goblin called out to him again.
"There is one more matter, Lord Grindelwald. My apologies for bringing this up now, but it is of dire importance." I bet this is when he'll ask me for the sword. Rob turned around with a smile, "There is no need to apologise, dear Ragnok. We are friends, at least I'd like to think that we are friends. Are we not?" Rob said with a wide smile, which he saw made Ragnok slightly uncomfortable. He clearly wasn't used to half insane eleven year old's like himself.
They said 'be careful what you wish for'. Ragnok should have remembered that. "Yes, of course, Lord Grindelwald. Please take a seat again, of course we are friends." Ragnok gave a sharp smile, but he seemed nervous now. Perhaps he had meant to unnerve him with this last minute discussion.
"The matter I wish to discuss with you is one of utmost importance to the goblin nation. Nearly a thousand years ago," Ragnok began, "Your ancestor, Godric Gryffindor, stole the ancestral sword of King Ragnuk The First. King Ragnuk repeatedly asked him to return it, but he repeatedly refused. Out of desperation, King Ragnuk sent his subjects to retrieve it, but Godric Gryffindor was too powerful, and defeated our agents. His barbarism knew no bounds and he threatened to unsheathe the sword against us if we ever tried to reclaim our rightful property, and King Ragnuk who loved his people more than one can measure, stopped trying, but he never forgot the slight." Ragnok finished, but Rob gestured for him to go on.
Ragnok was surprised, he had expected to be interrupted quite rudely by now, the encouragement made him more comfortable in talking. "The goblins and wizards have fought many wars in the past, and the matter of this sword's return was always a core part of our position. I ask you now, as the new Lord of Grindelwald to restore our rightful property to us." Ragnok finished with a small smile.
"But my friend, House Grindelwald does not possess the sword ever since Godric Gryffindor died. It is at Hogwarts, I believe, and this matter is out of my hands." Ragnok lost his smile at that.
"My Lord, surely as it is in your possession, you can talk to the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and the Board of Governors on our behalf." Ragnok proposed but was alarmed at the predatory smile Rob gave him.
"My possession? Well, when you put it that way, yes; it has been in my family's and Hogwarts's possession for nearly a thousand years, and as it is rightful wizard property, the goblins have no claim to it. As far as I'm aware, wizarding law recognises possession as ownership, especially something which has been possessed for that long." Rob could feel Ragnok's mood worsening, but he knew he had no valid justifications.
Ragnok was fumbling for air and failing.
"And besides, why would I return it to you even if I get it back? Especially for free. I don't see any reason to do any favours here, Ragnok." Rob stated plainly.
Ragnok was now in a tough position. He had not expected this child to be this good of a businessman. He was ruthlessly intelligent. He was loathed to admit it, but to save face he had to make an offer now. That sword was worth any price. "Name your price, my Lord." He said.
"One hundred million galleons." Rob offered with a shit eating grin, and Ragnok seemed like he wanted to strangle him with his grubby, small hands.
"That is too much!" he strongly protested and Rob raised his eyebrows at him.
"Oh? A thousand year old artifact attributed to one of the most famous and strongest wizards in history, a sword over which multiple wars have been fought as you said, and made of the finest goblin steel by the finest goblin silversmith in history. It is bound to hold a lot of sentimental value, dear friend, and it turns out it holds a lot of value for me. One hundred million galleons, or no deal." Rob insisted.
Ragnok shook his head in refusal, "I'm afraid I'll have to insist for you to hand it over to us as soon as possible, my Lord. Without charge." He gave a sharp smile. I'll put you in your place now. No holding back.
Rob laughed at that, "You're still my vault manager, aren't you?" Ragnok lost his smile, and he slightly nodded in confusion.
"Well, not anymore. You see, I don't like your tone, and I'm going to fire you this very moment. In fact, I'm thinking of shifting my account entirely to the Gringotts branch in Paris. They never mentioned any interest in the properties of my forefathers, and nor did they threaten me over it." It was true. The goblin nation was divided into many nations which were allied with each other, but only the goblins of Britain had any interest in the Sword of Gryffindor. Gringotts was controlled by all of the goblin nations in a joint manner.
Ragnok faltered at that. Didn't expect that, did you, you ugly fuck? "I'll also hire a reporter or two to write about my experience today. The Editor of Le Cri de la Gargouille (The Cry of the Gargoyle), Maurice Pinho, is an old friend of my Grandmother. I've also heard that Rita Skeeter of The Daily Prophet loves controversial news like this. Would you like that, Ragnok? Would you like to be crucified in both the wizarding world for what will be considered an outrage of the highest level, and to make a laughing stock of yourself amongst your brethren? Give me the word, I'll have it all arranged." Rob purred and laughed cruelly as Ragnok shivered in fright and rapidly shook his head.
"N-no, my Lord! You have my most sincere apologies. I promise, I will not bring this up again." Rob got up at that and lost his smile, giving Ragnok a hard look.
"I can either be your best friend, Ragnok, or I can be your worst enemy. Choose wisely, and don't dare to take advantage of my age again. It will not go well for you." Rob said coldly to Ragnok who rapidly nodded his head.
Rob suddenly smiled warmly at him, and Ragnok was bewildered by how quickly he was switching between his moods. Goblins most likely do not learn Occlumency. It really helps in masking emotions. All he sees is my smile, but he isn't feeling my desire to rip him into pieces. "I am not without a capacity for forgiveness, my friend. Let bygones be bygones and let's move forward with a new start. What do you say?"
Ragnok had calmed down by now. "Of course, my Lord. What would you like to discuss?"
"For starters, remind me; what is your salary as my manager? Is it two hundred and fifty galleons per year?
"Indeed, my Lord." Rob nodded his head once at that.
"It is now three hundred galleons per year."
Ragnok smiled appreciatively at that, but Tony Montana said in Scarface; The eyes, Chico, they never lie. Greed will imprison us all. Throw a little money and make the goblins dance to your tunes. That is why the Pure-bloods have always ruled this world. They believe power is power, while these fools believe money is power. "You are most generous, my Lord."
"I will give you bonuses for good work if you serve me well." Ragnok nodded at that, "Or, I will ruin you and get a new manager. Gringotts will appoint a new bank manager, and you, Ragnok, will be lost to the canons of history." Ragnok tensed at the threat. I should drive the point home once and for all.
"The goblin nation will not become my enemy if you betray me, but, you will, my friend." Rob pointed his finger at Ragnok, who shook his head frightfully. "I will hunt you down to the ends of this Earth, always remember that before greed whispers in your ear."
Rob left the bank manager's office and made his way to the lobby.
"Où maintenant, ma belle ma dame (Where to now, my lady)?" Rob asked with a grin. Nozéa rolled her eyes at that as she sighed.
"Eeylops Owl Emporium." Rob smiled childishly at the mention of an owl. Despite the rigid Pure-blood upbringing that he had to go through to learn how to mingle with the elite, despite his once in a generation magical talent, despite his ruthlessness, he was still a child who was excited by small things and pleasure. Nozéa only wished that he'd remember that more often, and not just in front of his family and close friends.
The store was located in the lower upper district, not far from Gringotts and they were outside within a minute of walking. Outside of the shop, many different colours and species of owls hung in cages, watching all of the pedestrians passing them. The shop was relatively small and there were very dim lights, likely because owls were nocturnal creatures.
Surprisingly it didn't smell that bad, probably a benefit of being able to use spells to quickly clean the shit that should have been all over the cages.
A young woman in her thirties greeted them with a smile, "Hello, are you looking for an owl for Hogwarts?" Rob nodded and returned her smile, and the woman showed him different owls from different species.
They were all so… plain. Rob had seen how beautiful a Snowy owl could be in the brochure that she gave him, but they were out of stock. He sighed, "Do you have anything more exotic in stock? An owl that stands out?"
The woman took a few moments to think it over, but then she gestured for him to weight and walked to the back of the shop and brought a cage towards him.
Its prisoner was majestic.
The owl had large tufts of feathers on its head that looked like horns. It had big cat-like eyes and brown white, gray, and black markings all over its body that looked like the bark of a tree. Its colour was an extremely dark shade of gray, which could be confused with black for the ones who couldn't discern between colours. "This is a Northeastern great horned owl from Quebec. We imported him nearly a year ago, but he doesn't even let anyone other than myself feed him or grab his cage. He's a proper demon, if you ask me." The woman nervously laughed but the owl's aggressive hoot at that shut her up quickly.
"A demon, you say?" Rob grinned at that as he locked eyes with the owl. He asked the woman for some treats and asked her to open the cage for him. She warned him that he might bite his fingers off if he didn't like him, but fingers could be easily reattached. This owl isn't that scary. You're just a massive pussy cat and that gives him the license to treat you like his bitch.
Rob placed his and inside the cage and the owl quickly gobbled up the treats that were offered to him. The owl then nuzzled his head against Rob's hand. "How much for him?" he asked the shocked shopkeeper. She quoted a price of twenty galleons but Rob paid her thirty and bought some premium owl treats for his new owl.
Nozéa shook her head, "You just can't resist awing people, can you?" she teased.
"I'm an entertainer, you know that."
"You're supposed to be a Lord."
"An entertaining Lord?" his grandma smacked her forehead in frustration as Rob laughed merrily, and his new owl hooted loudly.
Rob turned to the predator bird in its cage, "I think I'll name you… Lucifer." An apt name for a demon owl.
Author's Notes: I know I'm a day or two late but I crossed 13K words in this chapter and 20K words in total. The next chapter will hopefully take us beyond 30K words in total, and we'll see many new POVs and characters as we move to Hogwarts. I'll do my best to feed you all good length chapters.
Keep reviewing and add it to your following/favorite lists. It really warms my heart.