It seemed as though the whole world knew where Ophelia was at the exact same moment. Fewer people would have known her whereabouts had she materialized in the middle of a radio station and shouted her location into the receiver, or Apparated into the middle of the stadium at the final match of the Quidditch World Cup.

Spies were everywhere, it seemed, because one second Tom was half-heartedly studying for his N.E.W.T. exams, and in the next reality shifted. His own spied, serpentine in nature, sent to watch Ophelia's mother alerted him to the disturbance. Something was happening. She'd finally showed her face, that's what it meant. As though their signal wasn't enough, however, there was a rumble upon the stairs as several people sprinted up from their respective dormitories— and knocking into each other with a great deal of cursing by the sound of it. Fenella, the most vicious of their ranks, made it to him first, dragging the Fawley family house-elf by its ear, with Rabastan hot on her heels carrying another house-elf scooped up under his arm like a Quaffle.

"My father just got the news!" she exclaimed, forgetting to release the pitiable creature from her pinching grip. "They've found her, she's—"

"And Grindelwald," Rabastan added, rubbing a sore spot on his side and looking at Fenella resentfully. "He's—"

Avery and Knott appeared over their shoulders with their own house-elves in tow and looking inclined to interrupt.

Tom cut them off before they got the chance. "I know." He pushed away from the table, not sparing them any further inspection. "We need to move quickly."

They needed no encouragement, giving their respective house-elves directions to return to their homes and pretend they'd never left. The willingness they showed to spy on their parents via their family servants without his prompting impressed Tom. Loyalty was invaluable.

"So what do you think?" Rabastan asked, easily keeping up with Tom's long strides on their way Slughorn's office. "Should I set some of Slughorn's precious pictures on fire? Or how about spill all his potions together and cause some sort of mystery explosion? No, wait! How about I set him on fire? That'll be sure to distract him!"

"There's a lot to be said for subtlety," Tom said flatly. "Stick to the plan."

Rabastan pulled a face. "I mean, sure. If you want to be boring..."

Tom did, in fact, want to be boring.

He waited outside the office as Rabastan went to knock, Knott and Avery blocking him from view with their massive bodies. A small scraping could be heard from within the room and a moment later the door was being drawn open. Although Tom couldn't see him, he imagined Slughorn blinking down upon them.

"What a surprise, m'boys!" he boomed in his perpetually loud voice. Seeing Fenella, he corrected, "And girl, of course. Wouldn't dream of forgetting about you, Miss Fawley."

Fenella smiled sweetly up at him, a sure sign of trouble for the discerning viewer. Fenella wasn't sweet unless she wanted something. Her ability to manipulate someone on command made her invaluable.

"Hello, professor. Do you have a moment?"

"Horace? Is there a problem?" The door creaked open wider to reveal Professor Dumbledore seated at a table within the lavish room.

That was one variable Tom hadn't accounted for. Damn him.

Damn him! Always meddling even when he didn't know he was doing it...

Rabastan, it seemed, shared similar feelings, sending Tom a discreetly alarmed look from over Avery's shoulder. Tom hardened his gaze and gave him a sharp nod he hoped Rabastan was intelligent enough to interpret as "Continue as planned, regardless of that pesky Deputy Headmaster."

There wasn't enough time for contingencies. He would curse his way past Dumbledore if he had to.

Fenella needed none of Tom's reassurances as she shouldered her way into the room without invitation, even going so far as to take hold of one of Slughorn's expensively clothed arms to tug him in after her.

"We were just so concerned about our Potion's N.E.W.T., sir," she said. "I'm not certain about my technique in brewing the Drought of Living Death. Am I supposed to stir clockwise or counterclockwise?" Turning her pleading gaze on Dumbledore, she added, "And, since you're here, Professor, you must know how hopeless Rabastan is at Transfiguration. We're both doomed!"

With her free hand draped dramatically over her forehead, Tom thought she was laying her story on a little thick. Nonetheless, he used the distraction to slip in behind Avery and Knott, who were adding in similarly pitiful accounts of how their own studying was going. Pitiful, indeed. Tom doubted either of them had opened a textbook in the last seven years.

Tom spotted the large, stone fireplace across the room. The distance he'd need to traverse unseen wasn't ideal, especially with one more staff member than expected who's cunning gaze he'd need to avoid, but it wasn't like he wasn't expecting a bit of trouble. What was worse was the methods he sank to to go unseen, shuffling along the floor, while the others drew Dumbledore and Slughorn's eyes away. Once, Dumbledore's focus swayed in Tom's direction and Rabastan panicked. Obviously not taking Tom's suggestion about subtlety to heart, he pretended to be mortally wounded about some innocuous comment Avery made on his lacklustre OWL scores. Before any of them could process what was happening, he threw himself over the table, knocking aside a pot of tea and several cups, and clocked the unsuspecting Avery on the jaw.

"How dare you!" he cried. "I, um, can't believe you would say that about me!"

Idiot, Tom thought privately. And a pitiful liar.

"Now, boys," Slughorn blustered. Tom got the impression he was more distressed about the destruction of his property than the destruction of one of his students. "This is uncalled for!"

Dumbledore was quicker to pull them apart, however. With a flick of his wand, Rabastan was dragged, as though by unseen ropes to one corner of the room and Avery to the other.

"Perhaps you should let them finish," Fenella suggested.

Gracious as ever, Dumbledore pretended not to hear.

With the hearth nearly within his grasp, Tom gave up all pretence of sneaking. The rush of emerald fire that came with operating the Floo Network would give him away anyway.

"Tom?" Dumbledore sounded surprised. "What are you—"

Tom reaches for the pot of powder on the mantle, tossing a handful at his feet within the fire place. "I'm going to do what you never could," he said, disappearing into the flames before the old man could recover from his confusion.

Let the old man make of that statement what he would.

The muggle village Ophelia's mother called home had no connections to the Floo Network, so Tom stepped out of the first grate outside of Hogwarts' anti-apparation barrier and Apparated the rest of the way.

Into a battlefield.

III

"Uncle, you shouldn't have come," Ophelia whispered, throat tight.

He was here. He came for her, again. Seeing him after months of near isolation was so surreal she almost couldn't believe her eyes. Around them, a dozen other witches and wizards popped into existence, many whom she recognised, with him standing tall at their centre. Several of the wizards and even a witch or two had height on him yet, but what made him stand out wasn't something physical. It was the way he carried himself. His effortless confidence.

And his omnipresent gaudy violet cloak.

Grindelwald flashed her a placating smile. "How could I resist the chance to visit my adorable niece?"

"This is a trap!" she protested. In three long strides she was at his side, tugging on his arm. "They're going to kill you! Get out of here!"

"I think not. Their attempts to murder me should be amusing, at least. And we do seem to be surrounded, after all, in case you've failed to notice."

She hadn't.

On cue, one of the men, presumably an Auror rose his voice to be heard above all the others. "This is enough of your madness, Grindelwald! There is nowhere for you to run. Surrender now and spare us both unnecessary casualties!"

Ophelia searched for the voice in the crowd, only to come back blank. Probably smart for him not to single himself out as a target.

She went rigid as an arm curled around her shoulder and drew her tight to their side, but only for a moment, before she relaxed into her uncle's touch, identifying the musky smell of his aftershave long before she looked up at his face. It was bizarre how, even after all these years, she could tell it was him just from smell, and even more strange to remember that the last time he'd touched her like this he seemed to tower over her. Now, she stretched easily past his chin, almost to his own height. No longer a child.

"Unnecessary?" Grindelwald returned, his grin only growing wider on his pale face. "Unnecessary? Is a liberated world for wizard kind really so insignificant a task? My friends have fought and died for you for these past years! We are on the same side. So ask yourselves, do you really plan to continue to stand in our way? In the way of progress?"

Ophelia wasn't sure how to break it to him, but she had an inkling that that's exactly what they planned to do.

As others slammed back with various iterations of the phrase "Yes, actually," Grindelwald leaned forward and buried his face in her silver hair.

"When the curses begin flying, we'll provide cover long enough for you to Apparate away," he whispered just loud enough to be heard by her ears alone.

Without thinking, her hand flew up to grasp his arm, still wrapped around her shoulder and she shot him a look of extreme apprehension. "What about you?"

He continued watching his adversaries with calculated ease. "We can't all go. They'd be able to hit us mid-Apparation. I doubt you've forgotten that fact, even after all this time."

Ophelia set her jaw. "I'm staying."

Grindelwald finally spared her a glance then, eyebrow raised. "You'll be forced to hurt them. All these people who want me dead or in chains. Are you prepared for that?"

Could anyone be?

She nodded nonetheless.

"I did hope you would say that," he said, before lifting his wand high above his head and descending the world into chaos, sending an explosive shockwave rippling across the land.

A/N

This one's a bit on the shorter side, and it's been quite a long time since I've last updated but in my defense everyone I know keeps dropping like flies. 2019 just hasn't been fantastic so far. At least it still has a month to turn it around? Crossing my fingers that everyone else remains healthy