The attack inevitably came, which was only expected when one considered Gellert's failed poison gas attack on the Greek Ministry of Magic in 1938. Of course, it had only been foiled because one of Scamander's Nifflers had managed to recover a shiny vial so that the correct cure could be administered in time. With the owls that had almost certainly been intercepted and the disposed of bird carcasses it was easy to draw the conclusion that they were planning to launch a widespread attack on an international level.
Of course, to the international public, they had just been teaching their resident orphans how to make a cough potion. Any potions teacher could attest to the accidents that frequently occurred in potions classes.
The assault was relentless, thunderclaps rolling across the valley and reflecting off the rocky cliffs to echo ominously back at them. Light refracted off the ward day and night creating entrancing light shows and casting strange reflections through the windows in their rooms. The ward held up spectacularly, although the number of silencing charms cast overnight made it very difficult to rouse anyone for breakfast.
Of course, Hermione ensured that the assault reached international news within the day and her pet reporters worked wonders in portraying a sanctuary of children and homeless heroes under an unjustified assault. The ICW gave a statement about how they had proof that Grindelwald had planned an attack and a weepy Colin Creevey gave an interview about how he'd never expected his remedial potions lesson to have such an effect.
Life quickly fell into monotony after that, Hermione discovered that she actually had a talent for wizard's chess now that war had numbed her to what had one seemed like repellent violence. After all; a game with such minor consequences was the perfect place to hone her mind. The curriculum that she had been revising in preparation for her OWLS seemed like a bit of a joke after the work that she'd accomplished in the last month of the war and in the preparation for the wards and for the first time she felt wholly prepared.
She'd occupied herself instead with reading through the remainder of Slytherin's notes. She abbreviated them, translating the relevant information into modern English to add to the already impressive collection in the castle. It ranged from simple enchantments to perform mundane tasks to things that required the sacrifice of a virgin. There were early versions on spells Hermione was familiar with and others that had become lost to time.
It was in among all this that she found an account of how Salazar had discovered that patronus charms could keep away nightmares. Of course, the significance of that simple sentence eluded her completely until later that evening as she lay in bed watching the bombardment of spells explode like fireworks across the ward.
If Slytherin could cast a patronus – and he most certainly classified as a dark wizard, so could Gellert. Which implied that there was some unknown variable other than a simple history of dark magic that inhibited the patronus charm, which of course made sense now that she thought about it because she'd personally witnessed Delores Umbridge cast a patronus and she was also bordering on a dark witch.
She was up and out of her room before she could even think it through fully, grabbing the half read journal and tearing through her door and across the corridor. The dark wizard whipped up from his chair as she threw the door open.
'You can cast a patronus!' She exclaimed excitedly, brandishing the journal that she'd grabbed from her bedside on the way out.
Gellert just stared at her with a gobsmacked expression, his wand still pointed loosely in her direction. She waited expectantly for him to react with equal enthusiasm, then frowned when his expression didn't even register what she'd just said.
He shifted uncomfortably and she suddenly became very aware of how little she was wearing. Harry's (Dudley's) old shirt hung to barely mid thigh, which would have made any one of her school mates feel awkward. Gellert had grown up when women didn't even show their ankles.
'Sorry, I didn't think.' She apologised quickly as the wizard finally managed to get over his shock enough to avert his eyes and summon the quilt from his bed. Hermione wrapped it around herself awkwardly and turned the top down to hold it in place.
'What did you want? It's very late.' Gellert asked when she was more presentable.
'Salazar Slytherin could cast a patronus, so you must be able to as well.' She explained, flicking through the journal to find the right page. Grindelwald still looked sceptical. 'What if it's not something about the wizard? What if it's something about the process of casting it?'
Gellert still looked unconvinced, an expression which didn't change as she chattered about intent and manifestations. She led him down to the duelling room, and his expression finally turned to fear as they passed all three libraries.
He stopped, forcing her to a halt in the middle of the darkened corridor.
'I'd rather not.' He said, tugging his arm away from her grip.
'It's a very useful spell.' Hermione insisted. 'I'll be there in case something goes wrong.' She tried to reassure, finding his eyes in the darkness. He hesitated for a moment more, then seemed to brace himself and strode briskly past her into the duelling room.
Hermione joined him, lighting the torches that he'd ignored. Not for the first time she wondered if he'd done something to enhance his night vision. She got him to perform the preparation for the spell – the wand movement, the incantation and the stance. As expected, his technique was flawless and there was no variation from her own, which left three remaining variables; his intent, his memory and the popular belief that his soul was causing the problem.
'What is your memory?' She asked, knowing that it was a very personal question. Fortunately, it seemed Gellert was at least reluctantly going to work with her and he described the moment that he'd come into possession of the elder wand.
Hermione immediately ran through those whose memories she knew. Ron had once told her that he thought of when he'd become a prefect and Harry thought about winning the Quiddich Cup. She thought of the time that she'd found out that she was a witch. It was easy to correlate the memories; all were achievements, but there was one major difference. All of the trio's memories involved the love of their friends in the moment, Hermione's parents had been so proud to discover that she was a witch, Ron's mother had finally recognised his achievements and Harry had been surrounded by friends after helping them achieve victory for the first time in years.
Gellert's memory was devoid of love. It was an achievement that had gained him power but little else.
She said as much, knowing that the dark wizard wouldn't take offence. He was nothing if not self aware.
For the first time, genuine interest appeared in his expression. He was silent for several moments, obviously pondering what she'd said.
'Have you got a memory that might work? It needs to be all positive emotions.' She asked, dreading that his answer might be no. He'd spent most of his life in an isolated prison cell after all. He seemed to think for several minutes; then a smile flickered across his face. She took it as confirmation when he pulled the elder wand from his pocket.
She readied her own wand, more for his comfort than her own as he prepared to cast the only spell that had ever foiled him.
'Expecto Patronum.' he bellowed; the only time she'd heard him verbally cast a spell. He swept his wand through the air and silver mist billowed from the end. He didn't even pause for the mist to vanish before he was casting again, more mist settling on the floor of the room. It took her several attempts to get his attention, by which time the entire duelling room was cloudy with silvery fog. She marvelled briefly at his sheer power, still firm in the belief that he and Dumbledore were in a class of their own.
'You need a different memory; that one isn't powerful enough.' Hermione told him and he frowned, clearly scouring his brain for another memory. It was almost sad to watch; it had taken her weeks to find the right memory but it hadn't been for lack of them. She'd actually had so many happy memories that she couldn't work out which was happiest.
'Expecto Patronum.' He said it quietly this time and more mist poured out of his wand, then began to form into an indistinct shape. It was something with wings for certain, on the larger side but not as large as a thunderbird, possibly one of the big birds of prey. The mist swirled indistinctly for a couple of seconds, then convalesced into an owl.
The silvery owl swooped around them, Gellert watched in blatant awe as it circled on invisible currents, brushing his shoulders with its ghostly wing tips. The joyous expression on his face was one that Hermione had never seen before and it looked good on him. The smile showed off his white teeth and his eyes shone with a deeper happiness than Dumbledore had ever seemed to achieve with his merry twinkle.
Hermione summoned her own patronus with a flick of her wand and a silvery raven joined the dance. She faltered suddenly, the silvery animal fading into nothing. She cast again to make sure but the raven remained. She felt sick, had she really become so twisted that a carrion bird had become the animal representation of her inner self?
Gellert seemed to notice her distress, because his silvery owl faded and his expression of joy faded.
'What's wrong?' He asked quietly, moving over to her.
'My patronus has changed.' She told him dully, feeling terrible for ruining what was such a good moment for him. 'To a raven; a carrion bird that feasts off the death and suffering of others.'
'A raven?' He pondered after much consideration. 'True, it is a carrion bird but they also clean up after the conflicts of men. They are the messengers of the Gods, in Ancient Greek and Norse and were protective warriors to the celts. They are intelligent, curious and adaptive. I would say that is an excellent patronus.'
Hermione sat in silence for several minutes, then flicked her wand and watched the raven soar into the air, where Gellert's owl soon joined it.
'You're right. I just miss the otter.'