DISCLAIMER: HP belongs to JKR. The storyline and all new characters, new character development, and new developments are my intellectual property.

A/n. The first part is a repeat, sorry, I published an incomplete piece. No matter, it will be a refresher. Thanks to all those who review, I've been remiss of answering your kind comments, I 'll as soon as I feel better. Love to you all.

Thanks to Nacf who looks over the chapters and helps me.

Last time.

Dark Regrets and New hopes

At Grangers Manor, the Yorkshire.

Hermione, Harry, Draco, Frankie, and Evie were playing and Grandmother, Oma, Marguerite was keeping an eye on them.

Their parents had all gone out, and the elves were elsewhere, maintaining the household. The door to the room was locked, and as such, Marguerite deemed that all was safe; besides the seven dogs were all sleeping by the fire, all was well.

The children were looking at old albums and a new one with pictures of the last couple of days. They had a basket with fruit and other snacks they carried around with them. To her older eyes, the children were doing well and content

The sense of security and wellbeing after successive stressful days, combined with the warmth of the room, were conducive to a great nap. Hence, Marguerite gave into the drowsiness coursing through her. By doing so, she missed Frankie's words just a minute later.

Frankie stood in the middle of the room, looking at nothing but an empty spot; and, suddenly, he exclaimed, "Hello Sir, how are you?" sounding cheerful. Whereas Harry and Draco couldn't see anyone, Evie must have, because she giggled and ran to the middle of the room, right to the place where Frankie's eyes were fixed upon.

They all saw Evie, one minute she was there and the next gone. Poof, she had disappeared into thin air.

Harry's and Draco's eyes stayed riveted on the spot, and their face expressed amazement. Thus, they started walking to the apparently portal to somewhere.

You would have thought that they would either be scared or that Harry would remember the earlier conversations and warnings.

Nope, not a chance, Frankie wasn't scared at all, neither was Harry; the lack of fear further appealed to their sense of adventure. They were all ready for the next one.

Besides, the dogs were still snoring by the fire; this was a clear indication that there wasn't any danger, at least they thought so.

It was not even five seconds later, when the curly hair toddler appeared again, flushed and giggling and saying, "Is Papa. "

Hermione was equally enthralled; her light brown and gold curls moved around her head due to the excitement, so she walked towards whatever had caused Evie to vanish, and carefully went around the space.

"See there; the door is kinda smallish."

"Don't see it," Draco answered. Harry nodded in agreement.

Hermione wasn't surprised. She had already told her parent's many things, and they thought she was imagining.

She was puzzled. "Come here Traco, and Arry you hold my hand. Frankie, hold Harry's hand, Evie holds on to Draco's."

Hermione showed them what to do, but first, she ran back and picked up the basket with their snacks and other things as well. "For a picnic," she explained.

They were all barefooted. Hermione pursed her lips; this wouldn't do; thus, before they went anywhere, she made sure, in her very bossy way, that this wasn't the case, "We need to put on house shoes."

"Hmm," she said once they all wore shoes; she thought for a second, commanded, "Hold'n," and off they went.

But right before they stepped in, Harry pulled back and forced them to stop.

"Mimi, Daddy said—," Harry began. Never mind, if anything happened, it wouldn't be his fault. He would tell his daddy that it was Mimi's fault.

This moment marked a significant event in their life as siblings, the day that Harry began his career as Mimi's snitch, the Tattle-Teller had been born.

This persona would be around for a long while, for years, and would be a major cause for rifts between them.

It would last until the late teens, and although, later on, it would be lessened, it never would be over. It was fear, fear that something could happen to her, and he would be blamed.

He could see it, everyone, namely, Mommy, Daddy, Draco, Uncle Sirius, just everyone, would stop loving him. And it was back to the Dursley, no, not for him. That much was crystal clear to him.

Alas, they all ignored Harry's words, so Draco and Harry just saw the room changing, and they were going through a lighted space shaped like a door's entrance.

Nothing short of extraordinaire-

Gellert Grindelwald nearly had a stroke when he saw five young children step through the wall of the viewing room. He had seen a flash of gold color and thought he was having visions, and now this.

The flash of color was the giggling little blond with the curly hair. Angels, the angels in the old churches...but angels in house slippers, housecoats, and colorful jumpers with cat faces? Nah, he couldn't be imagining this.

From his past projections he had seen glimpses of them, but strangely they weren't in real color. They were all beautiful. He had seen them briefly but could not make a connection, until it clicked.

When he had seen them before, when they were inside the bubble that he created for them.

At that time, their eyes were closed most of the time; but, now, he could admire the shiny and beautiful eyes, emerald green, pure grey, blue-grey, green, and the light amber eyes of his dear wife.

If he looked close enough, one could see that the eyes' rim was dark blue with flecks of different colors, genuinely magical eyes. Yes, they were his babies, but how?

He knew their names from all the times when he had 'watched them,' even though he hadn't seen much of Evie. Their hair colors drew his attention, from platinum blond to raven black, and three of them with very curly hair; he grinned.

He knew that the last three were his flower's grandchildren. Her husband had very curly hair, but the three were all blond, or almost blond, and their great-grandfather also had curly hair, as well as his wife.

He rubbed his eyes several times. He knew their faces but never would have thought they could be this perfect.

Hermione and Frankie let go of the others hands and ran to him. Frankie had seen him the most times and knew that he had helped them.

Draco and Harry stayed behind a little apprehensive, but when Gellert embraced his grandchildren, they approached shyly and with caution.

Gellert was a hard Dark wizard who had only cried when he found the torn remains if his dead family, but today his cheeks were damp with tears, of joy.

He embraced them; they were flesh and blood. He hadn't gone crazy as he first feared.

The first time he had human contact, the touch of a hand, in nearly forty years, and, now, he was touching his babies. True, he had seen Albus through the wall, but not once Albus had come into the room.

He had indeed punished him hard because, after nearly forty years, it wasn't the magic and the power that he missed. No, it was to be around others, the comforting warmth of a human body, and the feeling of a hand on him.

He looked at the others, the children's best friends. He had died, and the gods had forgiven him because they had sent five angels who had come to be with him.

Mimi pulled out the basket from under her housecoat and gave to him. "Papa, here for you."

He still could not say a world. The Wizard feared by many, the monster who had killed thousands, was the Wizard who broke down at looking and feeling the innocence and love in front of him.

His dear wife's legacy still lived. Grindenwald had done one good thing, and it was right there, in front of him. Albus would never have this joy, he felt sorry for him, in more ways that Albus would ever know.

He just breathed them in, his body shaking, and his emotions rampant. "My babies, my babies…"

His flesh and blood, so who cared about the mix in their blood? They were nearly pureblood, not that it mattered because they were very powerful. When they were in their prime, they would be the best of them all.

Now, he knew that his blood would rule the earth, but with much more kindness that he would have done it.

Oh, Albus, you didn't triumph thanks to the Creator, and to Isis and Osiris, and to all the ancient ones. These angels will mend some of my wrongdoings; perhaps my dear wife is watching out for this bad wizard. He hoped.

True – Albus didn't have a hand in his family killing, he wasn't like that. Gellert believed that when Albus found out he'd had been regretful; strangely that incident had never been mentioned and should remain unsaid.

No sense in rousing Albus' suspicions, or better, his own. Lately, he had a bad feeling souring his stomach; he suspected the worse.

It was good that he still had his wits about him; because the children should not be with him at this time when the sun was up. Albus might see them; maybe they had triggered an alarm.

"You must leave," he told them all. "As lovely as it is, you shouldn't be here, and you should tell your parents." It tore his heart, but he feared that they might have triggered alarms.

They ignored him.

"Who are you?" asked Draco, his young, grey eyes observing the old wizard who looked a little like Grant.

"It doesn't matter; she will tell you later. Mini will tell you."

He knew their names, well their nicknames which were sufficient for now. He guessed Arry was Harry, and Traco, not sure of that one. "I will let you know when you can come back. Wait, you haven't told me how did you get here?"

Maybe he had gone mad, but he would not have been able to imagine this, it was just not possible, He could smell their young bodies. His little flower had sent him this gift.

"I know you, from after you came, remember? I saw a tiny door and saw you inside, just now when Evie got in," Mimi said, and Frankie agreed. "Evie came in and out." They all nodded their heads emphatically.

After he came? Ah, yes, when he had projected his body, he was weak and hadn't been able to come through. Because he needed someone to anchor him on the other side, and his Marguerite wouldn't answer. Usually, until he wasn't anchored, he couldn't see the surroundings.

He wondered again, are the children here? Yes, they brought the basket, and they were here flesh and blood. His girl was an enchantress, maybe a mage, no wonder. In her veins ran what he used to think as tainted blood, when in fact his blood was the tainted one.

He had been so wrong. He now dreaded that some madman might try to harm them because they were not one hundred percent magical blood. He was afraid because he had been that madman.

So retribution was a fact, and his was to be lonely and to be unable to protect his kin.

Evie wanted to sit on his lap, and he couldn't refuse her whim. They all sat on the cot; but he wanted them to leave.

Nevertheless, he would gladly die after this. He kissed their heads, all of them, over and over, and the children covered him with smoothes and caresses.

He could feel all their magic. It was great. And who was the little boy that his grandson had brought? Ah, he was the marked by the one wanting to kill him.

His grandson loved his boy, and his flower also did, so it wasn't going to happen, thus he had to figure out what to do to stop it.

"Please go back to the door; I will figure out how to open it again." They must go, Gellert decided, sooner than later.

He could feel Albus, and he was never wrong. He walked them to the wall. Even if this was the only time, he couldn't let Albus have them.

Harry had a strange aura about him; there was a dark signature not inside but over him. There must be a way to rid him of it. Why? He had to think.

"Son, you must be careful. He is still after you. Tell that to your mommy, okay?" He kissed Harry on his head. Such sweet child, he felt as if he were also his.

"Yes sir," Harry remembered what the lady had told him earlier, to tell his parents everything; he needed tell them this as well.

"Please go now. A kiss from each, and go." Evie was still in his arms. He stood up; they all thought that he was very tall, Evie was still in his arms. She was fussing holding on to him and wouldn't let go.

"No, I'tay." Evie held on to him, already crying and insisting on staying. This was instant love.

Gods, this was so hard, to let them go. Hermione ran back sat on the cot, refusing to budge. "I'm staying too; You're sad and sick. We visit. Let me give you a little pixie kiss. Arry, Traco, Frankie come here and hold my hand, hmm, Evie hold Frankie's hand."

He watched as the children complied with the little mage. And a small discovery crossed his mind; the child was Draco, a constellation, he reminded him of someone he knew long ago. He sat again next to her.

What he saw next, he would remember until the day that he died. This was what magic supposed to do, to make things better, and he would always be in awe of such powers.

"The healer pixies love you Opa, and the pain in your head is gone, all the pains are gone, and your sadness feels bedder."

She tapped his heart and pulled a gross blob of dark blood which she threw on the bare floor of the small cold cell. Little sparkles of magic shone in the room," and he felt warm currents circulate through his body; it was pure wellbeing.

"Eeek," they all said at the same time.

They kissed a dazed Gellert, and Hermione looked at the wall and said, "Oh dear me… Let's go dears; the doors got lots more smaller, come my dears." She sounded hurried.

Marguerite has just woken up and panicked, where had they gone? The dogs were howling at the space when out the middle of the room, and before she could really worry, one by one they appeared, in a train of hands all behind Hermione.

"We came from Opa, from Papa," Hermione announced, and Frankie screamed in unison.

"Opa," Harry said the same. They all ran to Oma and kissed her.

And Draco observed, "I have a Pépère, but Opa was very nice, and I phink Opa is in jail. Maybe he was naughty?" His eyes were puzzled; he had read plenty of stories of the heroes being incarcerated, or the bad wizards also in jail for being naughty, hmm.

Marguerite smiled sadly. Naughty, that was the understatement; she didn't want to believe them, but she had seen it with her own two eyes. They were all very cold… Oh dear, her father must be freezing wherever he was.

They told Marguerite all about their visit. She struggled to hold back her tears. Later she would see about making copies of the children's memories for the family's pensive.

"Papa, if you can hear me, I love you." As she was saying the words, she noticed Evie, what was she doing?

As soon as they had returned Evie had gone into action. She was quite busy as she pushed through the still visible crack whatever she found on her path, whatever might go through the shrinking space; and she did did at the speed of a toddler, fast.

Goodness, she was sliding things on the floor, and they vanished, until the last item would not go through, a newspaper. If Marguerite had reacted quicker, oh well.

"Evie what did you send?"

Evie told her as best as she could, her speech was not too bad. Marguerite laughed with joy. She could get Paul a new house jacket and slippers, as for the children's throw, hmm, time to knit some more. Her glasses, hmm, she had an old pair.

Her father would surely enjoy the rest. How had they done it? Could she go and see her father?

Dark Hopes and Nemesis

At a tower, in the North Sea, Gellert Grindenwald heard his daughter sending her love, but couldn't answer because Albus' arrival was imminent.

He threw his blanket on the ground by where the 'door' had been, and pushed the things under his cot, letting the cot's blanket hang down. For safety, he sat on the edge and covered the view with his legs.

He had seconds to close all his mental paths and get ready for the Legilimency that was sure to come. Damn! He needed to hide the basket. It had fruit and biscuits, some half-chewed, and some metallic bags with liquid inside of them, and two small bottles of milk. And the chocolate bar, half melted, that Harry gave him at the last minute.

He was still moving around when Albus's voice came in through the wall and talked to him.

Idiot, Gellert thought. He could see Albus perfectly; even with all the effort to kill all his magic, it just couldn't be done.

Bah, let Dumbledore think he was magically crippled. Before today he wanted to die, but things had changed. No, he couldn't, because he had a lot to be done. He had been granted a gift, and he wasn't going to waste it.

A tear ran down his cheek, a tear of gratitude, of fear, of hope. He quickly dried it, pretending he was scratching his face, no sense in letting the enemy see his weakness.

Albus was there, and he wished to warn the children to stay gone, what if they decided to make their presences known once more? Damn, he still felt them nearby, and their fresh smell of warm children and innocence floated around him. Quickly, Gellert replaced the recent images to memories of his childhood, of old churches statues and paintings of angels that looked like the children just in case.

He sat and waited for the old wretch to make his presence known. When out the corner of his eye he saw something appearing at the corner where the children had left. He felt his heart galloping.

He saw a book and maybe some clothes and prayed to the gods of him elders not to let Albus see it.

"I saw an alarm, it cannot be. Who was here?" Albus sounded and looked upset.

"Are you crazy Albus? I'm hiding an entire kindergarten right under my arse, you idiot. Now what? Who could be here? Not even ghosts haunt this place. I would like to see and chat with a few, but it is too fucking cold even for the dead. You must be mad."

"I am going to reinforce all the wards. Don't play tricks on me, Gellert, or I will punish you —no books," The righteous, pompous, ridiculously attired fool said. Nothing Gellert could do, Albus had the upper hand.

"Birds do crash in here, inside if I am lucky, and can eat some meat occasionally. It happened before, and you were not concerned. Must be hell being so paranoid. Is your house of cards collapsing?"

"Better I will kill you, don't try anything ."

"Do it, end my misery." Gellert dared Albus.

Albus left without an answer.

He knew it wouldn't happen. Albus was still obsessed with him. Gellert wasn't, he had learned about other kinds of love, and he so wished that he had listened to her. For him, the best love he felt was for his beloved wife, and even better the love for his precious babies.

As soon as he was sure that Gellert had gone, he ran and picked up the new items.

One was a thick book of Miss Christie's stories, it had several, a volume, he perused to the names, several he had never read. He smiled. It would be a great past time. It had a bulky page marker.

The next item caused him to laugh. A pair of women's glasses, probably his daughter's, laid balanced on his palm. He tried them on, and looped the chain around his neck. The prescription wasn't a perfect match, but the lenses made things more clear. A box of chocolates had also been sent to him.

What he thought was a paper, was, in fact, an envelope filled with non-Wizarding pictures. Images of his Marguerite and her husband with her children spilled into his hands. His heart could hardly take the feelings that swelled in his chest. He accepted the fact that he was now a sentimental old fool.

There was more… A coloring book, and color sticks - what a find! A large warm jumper, a small throw full of crumbs, he stuck it to his nose, the children's. Now, what else, one house shoe, and a pieced of wet, chewed leather, from a dog.

He had to smile, but he could work the leather into something. He already had a collection of items found in birds' stomachs, amazing what you could find.

He smiled thinking that all his gifts had come from the little ones. He felt strangely well, and for the first time in years, he had hope.

He put on the sweater, and a small moan of satisfaction escaped his lips. He wrapped the small throw around his shoulders as if it were a shawl. For the first time in a long time he felt warm. During the summer wasn't too bad, but the jumper was a godsend. Albus wanted him to suffer, and he had, in all kinds of ways.

He remembered every little thing about the children, he wished he could have kept their smell, the blanket would do for a while, he inhaled deeply once again; but what was that fetid stench reaching his nose.

It was the stench of decaying matter, as when a bird died just outside and rotted out there, but this was worse.

He looked around and saw it, it was almost by his feet, he approached carefully, and looked at the wriggling mass on the ground.

When he peered inside of it, he threw up. He was sick and full of fear and apprehension. He ran to the toilet and heaved until he couldn't barf anymore.

What he saw was a mass of wriggling black snakes, hideous mutations without eyes, trapped inside a clear dark red bubble; they emitted a foul stench, leaving an oily sticky trail, as the monstrosity crept along the stone floor.

He knew it. It was the thing the healer Pixie had pulled out him.