August 1938- Wool's Orphanage

The other children could not have been louder than they were today and it was giving Tom a splitting headache. He mindlessly plucked a book off the bookshelf, not caring what he got as he had already read everything at least twice. He stomped his way up to the second floor where his room was.

29, 28, 27…

He raised a hand to his new silver doorknob that David was gracious enough to replace after he got used to Tom sneering at him. The young boy just opened his door a crack when he heard whispering in a room that had been unoccupied for a year. His heart burned with anger.

"Hey this is pretty-"

"Shh! Shut up or we are going to get caught!"

"Don't tell me to shut up."

"Don't be so loud then, Amy."

"Yeah. I knew we shouldn't have invited a girl."

"You don't have to be so mean, Aaron."

"You don't have to be so annoying"

"You all are annoying," Tom commented dryly.

All four orphans, Billy, Amy, Aaron and Dennis snapped their necks at the sound of the most bone chilling voice they had grown up to know far too well. Their faces grew a sickly pale as all the blood drained from their heads at the sight of Tom standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and an expression that meant business. Tom's eyes darkened as he saw Amy holding the large, silvery sea shell he gifted to Hermione, in her filthy hands. How dare she sully something so precious?

"What are you four vultures doing?" he asked in a tone that told them any form of lying would certainly be punished.

"W-we, um, we were-,"

"Because," Tom interrupted Amy's foolish stuttering and straightened his back to tower over the other children, "it looks like you are stealing."

"It's not stealing if the person isn't here anymore," Dennis defended but instantly regretted it as Tom turned his cold gaze on him. "I-I mean, she isn't here anymore so who cares?"

Ever since Hermione's so called "adoption", all the other children had been making an effort to avoid the used of Hermione's name as they knew it riled Tom to the point where someone always got hurt.

"I do. Now, get out," the handsome boy growled.

"We don't have to listen to you."

"You are pushing your luck, Dennis. I will give you one more chance. Give me that shell and never set foot in this room."

Amy took a step forward with the shell in her outstretched hand before Dennis snatched it up. It would seem that there was a new bully for Tom to deal with as Billy seemed to sit back and enjoy his vacation.

"What are you going to do, Tom? Hit us? We will just tattle to Mrs. Cole."

The insolent boy was treading on thin ice and it was up to Tom to knock him off his imaginary pedestal and back to the dirt where he belonged.

"Then do it," the same, strange voice whispered in his head. Tom hadn't figured out what the voice was but he found himself listening to it, giving in to the sweet words it spoke in his ears. "You know how. You can control it. Just think and let go. Wish it and it will come true. Punish them for their level of disrespect."

"Give me that shell," Tom ordered with the same amount of authority a general spoke to his soldiers. His voice sent shivers down their spines.

"F-fine! If you want it so bad you can have it!" Dennis roared.

He raised the desired object above his head and sent it to the polished, wooden ground. Amy covered her ears for the inevitable loud crash while the other boys turned away in fear for the shards that would cut their faces. Neither happened. The only sound in the room was Dennis' gasp. Everyone turned back and saw the shell floated in midair just centimeters from the floor, unbroken. Tom summoned it and it floated over before dropping into his hand gingerly. He looked at the group of frightened eyed kids with an expression free from any form of playfulness and amusement.

"I warned you."

The wardrobe started to shake and wobble as if the building was on top of an earthquake, threatening to fall over and crush the vultures' small, fragile bodies. Tom raised a hand and the stool by the bed flew into the air. With a single thought, he sent it to crash into a wall missing Dennis' head by a few inches. Splinters rained down on the boy as he brought his hands up for cover. Screams rung from Amy's big mouth as everyone ran out of the room.

"What is going on up there?" came Mrs. Cole's voice from the bottom of the stairs. Tom groaned as he could hear her heavy footsteps making their way up. He watched as Amy ran and hugged the matron. "My child, what is the matter now?"

"T-Tom made the wardrobe shake a-and he made the shell and stool float and, and- he's a freak!" the girl shouted the last statement at the top of her lungs before burying her face into the woman's apron. The matron shook her head at the nonsense spewing from the girl's mouth and cooed her to calm down.

"I didn't do anything. They were the ones who were snooping in Hermione's room and breaking things. I just came to stop them," the accused boy informed, pointing to the broken stool for evidence.

The matron gave him a look as if trying to read through his lie. She couldn't find anything and turned back to the children surrounding her.

"Is this true?" They all gave her a sheepish look under her scorching glare. She huffed, "You all know not to do that. Now go downstairs and play. There will be people here soon so we want to be on our best behavior."

That was it? Just go down and play? No punishment, no yelling, not even a slap on the wrist but a wag of her index finger? No… nothing?

Useless.

"Then punish them like they deserve," the dark voice whispered.

Tom waited patiently as his caretaker walked toward him with a gold key in hand.

"I will just lock this room up so no one can enter, alright?" she whispered gently, almost motherly to him and he had to fight his breakfast down. What a fraud.

When she was behind him, Tom took the chance to go through with his threat. He summoned that tingling sensation and looked at Dennis. In his head Tom imagined pushing the boy down the stairs. The handsome boy unleashed that energy surging within him and his wish came true, just as the dark voice said. Dennis was pushed down the stairs by an invisible force and tumbled nastily to the bottom floor. Mrs. Cole whipped around and screams echoed throughout the building. The matron opened her mouth to yell at Tom but found the boy standing in his doorway. He was a good twenty feet from the others. When the woman finally found the ability to shut her gaping mouth, she rushed to attend the injured boy crying at the bottom of the stairs leaving Tom in peace.

"Excellent," the voice whispered in approval.

Tom smirked. Excellent indeed.

He gave one last look at room twenty-six, lingering in the halls longer than he knew before going into his room. It would be noisy soon and he wanted nothing but peace and quiet for the next few hours.

In France…

A knock on the door disturbed the house of Granger. Hermione looked up from her book at the sound.

"Hermione, darling, could you see who is at the door?" her aunt called from the kitchen.

Hermione book marked her spot and got to her feet and open the door. She looked up to a blond man with a brown fedora and dark sunglasses and a brunette woman with a dark, purple dress that reached just above her knees. The two adults looked down on the child and Hermione just gave them a shy smile.

"Can I help you?" Hermione's aunt asked from behind her niece. Hermione moved away from the strangers and hid behind Helen's legs.

"Good afternoon. We are from Beauxbaton Academy of Magic and we would like to personally inform you that Hermione has been accepted to our school," the woman said with a business lady smile that could sell whatever product was being offered. In this case: a chance to study magic.

"Oh my goodness!" Helen shrieked with joy. She grabbed Hermione's hands and looked into the girl's confused expression. "Hermione did you hear that? How exciting!"

The blond man cleared his throat and Helen, forgetting she had guests standing in the doorway, quickly brought everyone to the living room where tea was quickly offered and denied.

"Miss Granger," the brunette woman address as she looked down to the girl, "You are a witch, with magical powers and we hope that you will come to our school for magic."

Hermione couldn't believe her ears. She was completely flabbergasted.

"I-I'm a witch?" she choked out. "But those don't exist. They are nothing but fictional creatures with green faces and big moles." The woman chuckled.

"Do you remember all those strange things that happened around you, dear?" her aunt asked. "Like when you knocked over the vase in the living room even though you were on the sofa, or even when you fell out of your bedroom window but landed on your mattress?"

Hermione gasped. "How did you know?" She thought she kept it well hidden. She didn't want her aunt and uncle thinking she was a freak. She didn't want to be outcasted here like she was back in the orphanage. At least in London she still had Tom. Here in France, she had nothing but cold and silent books.

"Oh, honey. I've always known," was all she said. Helen took Hermione's small hands into hers. "Do you want to go to this school? It's one of the best in the world and you would learn a lot. You would live in a world that was full of magic. Your uncle and I would approve."

"How do you know so much about this?" Hermione asked toward her hastiness.

"I've known for a while," she said not really answering her question again.

"Miss Granger," the blond man spoke. "We would be honored to have a spectacular girl like you at our school. Won't you join us?"

Hermione turned toward the man. He looked familiar somehow like. It felt like deja vu but she just couldn't put her finger on it.

"Is it in London? The school I mean," Hermione asked in a hopeful tone when she couldn't think of a name to match his face.

She was hoping they would say yes. God, she would die for them to say yes. Hermione wanted nothing more than to go back to the orphanage and find Tom. It had been so long. One year, two month and fourteen days may not seem like a lengthy time to an adult but to Hermione it felt like she had lived through ten lifetimes. She had been terribly lonely here in France, even with her aunt and uncle giving her as much attention as they could in their attempt to "make up for lost time." She wondered if Tom was still there. He was so smart and handsome; someone must have taken him already.

Was he happy? Would he be happy to see her? Would he even remember her, recognize her? Hermione didn't know the answers to the questions she had been asking herself but she wanted to find out.

"No, I'm afraid our school is here in France," the woman asked causing all glimmer of hope to die away from Hermione's body. She deflated on the spot. "You would be closer to your family. Isn't that better?"

Hermione shook her head and looked at Helen, tugging her hand to get her attention as if she didn't have it already. "Can't we move to London? I want to go to school there."

Helen's eyes grew hard. "Hermione, if this is about that silly little boy-"

"Tom isn't silly!" Hermione yelled angrily, cutting her aunt off. She was so sick of people calling him that. The other orphans, the adults that would come to adopt, even Mrs. Cole. He was just misunderstood and she was ready to defend him till the end of time.

"I have told you to just forget about him. For goodness sake, it has been over a year! It was one thing when you tried to run away all those months ago and you nearly got yourself killed if your magic hadn't saved you but this is a good opportunity for you. We are not going to move back there so you might as well get comfortable and do as you're told!" Helen yelled back.

Tears welled up in Hermione's eyes and threaten to spill down her cheeks. She never liked being yelled at. She liked it even less now that she didn't have her rock to ground her.

"Hermione," the brunette spoke gently as if her words would break the little girl before her like she was made of fragile glass. Hermione turned to face her and she was trying to keep her tears in check but they flowed down her cheeks in betrayal. The woman grabbed the crying girl's hand and gave her a warm smile. "If you come to Beauxbaton, you will learn how to control the magic you have inside of you. You will learn hundreds of spells and charms. There is even a spell that lets you teleport."

"T-t-tele-port?" Hermione asked in her broken, crying voice.

"Yes, and if you go to our school, you can learn how to do it and teleport yourself to London whenever you want. How does that sound?" the woman bargained.

Hermione looked at her as she processed and considered the woman.

"Prove it," she challenged, still denying that magic even existed. For all Hermione knew this could be a test to see if her aunt and uncle needed to ship her off to a psychological institution for her disobedient behavior.

The two guests looked at each other and the blond man nodded silently. With a loud crack that could rival a canon shot, the woman vanished. Hermione gasped but her aunt was completely unaffected as if she had already seen the magic performed in front of her. Hermione saw the woman disappear right in front of her eyes and yet she still couldn't believe it. She walked up and held her hand to where the woman once sat as if it was some kind of trick. There was no smoke left behind. Her hand met only air.

Another loud crack sounded from behind Hermione. The little girl twirled around and the woman held out a fluffy teddy bear that once sat in her room upstairs. It even had her initials HG sewed onto the right ear.

Magic was real and she could use it to teleport whenever and wherever she wanted? Hermione was now crying tears of joy.

"What do you say Hermione? Will you join us and the ladies of Beauxbaton?"

She nodded her head and her aunt pulled her into a hug.

"Oh, I am so happy and proud that you will be going to such a wonderful school," she said as she rubbed Hermione's back in soothing circles. The same way Tom used to whenever she had one of her nightmares.

"Excellent. We have already gathered the things you will need for school. The only thing left is to choose a wand," the woman informed.

She flicked her wrist and a ton of books, parchment, robes and more appeared out of thin air and landed neatly on their dinner table sitting several feet away. With another wave of her wand, several boxes appeared and piled themselves neatly on the coffee table. Hermione tried each of them one by one, giving it a flick and watched as something exploded or broke in the house. Curtains ripped, light bulbs shattered and windows cracked with every wave of a new wand. At this rate the house would be destroyed.

They were down to the last five and the two guests were worried if they had a wand that would choose her.

"Here my dear, try this one." The blond man held out a box with a brown wand in it. It had beautiful engraving at the hilt that looked like tiny leaves and vines that wrapped themselves around the area. Hermione picked it up and a surge of warmth went through her. The wooden stick started to warm up as if it was alive. With a flick and swish, everything that broken in the house fixed itself.

"Perfect. I think we found a winner," Helen laughed.

Hermione smiled back. She was now a witch. She was going to go to a school for magical people and learn to teleport to Tom. Oh, what would he think of her new abilities? Would he be excited? They could have so much fun together.

Hermione gripped her wand, her new beacon of light and hope as she thought about seeing him again. She couldn't wait to go to school. When the visitors bid farewell and Helen and Hermione went back to their individual activities, it never occurred to her that no one asked for the two stranger's name.

Meanwhile at Wool's Orphanage...

It was pouring outside like the first time Hermione came to the orphanage. The rain storm just happened without any hints of its arrival and while the suddenness would have peaked Tom's interest, he only hoped this storm would carry her back. Maybe David would knock on the door with her in his arms again. 'Maybe' was the key word there.

The pitter patter of rain made Tom long for his friend who was taken away. It felt like a lifetime ago that he last saw her, heard her voice. He could barely remember her voice anymore. The only reminder he had of his failure that day were his dreams. More like nightmares, really, but he welcomed them all the same.

They were consistent at first coming to him night after night as he lost more sleep over them. Then, the nightmares became spontaneous and eventually they were like a rare treat. It was like watching a horror film; loud, scary, an adrenaline rush. Then suddenly, someone would take the remote and lowered the volume as if to make the movie less scary. Her once loud cries became silent howls as the dreams started to stop making their appearance.

Tom could now only remember her crying face but her voice was long gone. He feared he would forget her face next and the thought made his shake with pure despair. He would rather take another slap to the face from Mrs. Cole if it meant he could dream her as a whole instead of a faceless mute, even if her voice came as an agonizing cry. One word. One smile. That was all he asked for.

He never even said goodbye.

Tom sat perched on his bed, hiding from all the adults downstairs that were looking for kids to adopt. He knew no one would want him so what was the point in going down there? To watch as people after people walk pass him and whisper? To stand in a corner as if on a time out and listen as they called him creepy, sulky, a freak, a bastard child for his runaway father and an abomination for killing his mother with his birth. As if he was a demon child, a spawn directly from Satan himself.

He would rather be locked up in his room than deal with that crap. They didn't understand him. He didn't want to understand them.

Tom continued to sit on his bed as the noise downstairs quieted. He pulled out his diary which was still empty except for the smushed, daisy flower. Tom just couldn't bring himself to write anything in it. Instead, he played around with Hermione's seashell. In her abrupt kidnapping, she never took her stuff with her. Many of the other kids tried to inherit her stuff like vultures but Tom would have none of that. He did, after all, push Dennis down the stairs. A few months ago, Tom practically smashed one of the children's faces into the dirty to get back a toy David gifted to Hermione. It was a pathetic yo-yo that she never played with but it used to belong to her and now it belonged to Tom. And what belongs to Tom should never be touched by others. Course, his action landed him in his room without breakfast and lunch but he didn't care. What difference did the location make if he was still alone.

"There have been some incidences, nasty things," a voice in the hallway whispered and he knew whoever it was, they were talking about him. You would think that whoever Mrs. Cole was talking to would try to sugar coat Tom to get rid of him but no matter how "sweet" she made him out to be, he was never chosen.

"It happened when she left. He hasn't been the same since," he heard Mrs. Cole whisper. "...stays in his room. All the other kids are scared of him."

"I see," another voice answered but Tom didn't recognize it. "That truly is a tragic story. Where is the girl now?"

Tom's ears perked up at the mention of Hermione and he instantly hid his diary under his pillow. He ran up to the slab of wood and listened to the voices behind the door. He cursed himself for missing the next crucial information Mrs. Cole said, only managing to catch the mysterious person's question instead.

"May I see him?"

Tom backed away from his door, his eyes widen in both surprise and fright as he sat back down on his bed. Surely there wasn't someone who was actually interested in him? No, it was impossible. They must be talking about another boy. But then, why were they talking about Hermione?

A horrible thought crossed Tom's brilliant mind: did Mrs. Cole call the doctor? He had heard her talking with some of her young assistances about Tom. He overheard her say something about a "special doctor" to look at Tom. After those two chilling words, he didn't need to stay any longer to figure out that she had thoughts on sending him to a mental institute.

A knock on the door startled him. Before he could give whoever permission to enter the door swung open exposing the old hag and a man with a beard and suitcase. He was dressed in a colorful suit. The man just stared at Tom as he stared back.

"Tom, you have a visitor," Mrs. Cole announced and watched as the man stepped into his room.

He doesn't look like a doctor, Tom quickly noted but the man wore a suit and carried a briefcase. He shouldn't let the man's interesting choice in attire affect Tom's suspicion.

"How do you do, Tom," the man greeted. He said his odd name that matched his odd clothes.

Mrs. Cole was long gone, not wanting to be in the boy's presence. Tom looked out the window and watched as the heavy raindrops smashed into the glass barrier and trickled down leaving a small river for others to join and follow. The strangely dressed man sat on Tom's bed and watched the boy. After seeing he wasn't going to leave under Tom's searing glare, the handsome boy took a seat at his desk.

Once seated, the old man started to go on about a place called Hogwarts. The man must have been crazy because he started to go on about magic, giants, spells, charms, centaurs and anything else in a generic children's bedtime story. Tom sat with his mouth stapled shut until the man was done rambling.

They stared at each other for a while until Tom found the silence to be unbearably nerve racking.

"You're the doctor, aren't you?" he asked tiredly, his lack of sleep showing clear as day.

"No, I'm a professor."

"I don't believe you. She wants me looked at. They think I'm… different."

"Well perhaps they are right."

"I'm not mad," Tom said quickly trying to defend himself from whatever mind game this man had up his colorful sleeves.

The old man, Dumbledore if Tom remembered correctly, looked at Tom with seriousness. "Hogwarts is not a place for mad people," he told Tom. "Hogwarts is a school. A school of magic."

Tom didn't know if he should laugh or run from the old coot. He settled with being silent.

"You can do things can't you Tom? Things other children can't."

Tom's eyes grow larger. How could he know what Tom had done? Maybe that old hag told him.

"I can make things move without touching them," he found himself saying. After the metal bar incident, he discovered that his new abilities are linked to his emotions, something he thought he lost already.

"I can make animals do what I want without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who are mean to me. I can make them hurt, if I want." Tom continued to watch the man's expression with every confession he told. Nothing. The man wasn't shocked at all.

"Who are you?" Tom questioned finally. Most people would be laughing in his face or inching away of fear. But not this man. Not once did he take out a clipboard and write down Tom's confession, throwing an "uh huh, go on," when he felt it necessary. They all stared at him with pity. But not this man.

"Well I'm like you, Tom. I'm different."

"Prove it," Tom ordered.

A twinkle came into Dumbledore's eyes and suddenly, Tom shifted on his stool at the sight of his wardrobe catching fire. The wooden box was completely engulfed in those beautiful red and orange flames as they licked the ceiling and the boy couldn't help but have the faintest smile. Tom noticed the flames weren't leaving scorch marks which meant the fire was fake. Pity, Tom was hoping it would swallow this god forsaken place and all of the annoying occupants in it.

"I think there is something in your wardrobe trying to get out, Tom," the man said, his voice serious.

Tom schooled his astonished expression back into an unreadable mask as he got up and made his way to the box on fire. From just standing in front of the door he could feel the flames emitted no heat at all and threw open the tall doors. On the ground was his treasure box with a few toys he had stolen from the other children. It shook and rattled and Tom assumed the man knew of his past actions. He bent down, took his box and dumped the contents on his bed, his cheeks stained with embarrassment.

"Thievery is not tolerated at Hogwarts, Tom. At Hogwarts you will not only be taught how to use magic but how to control it. Do you understand me?"

Tom nodded.

The two wizards didn't say a word. Tom was lost in his own debate and Dumbledore must have taken his silence as a sign of his insecurities because he got up and said,

"I see that you need some time to deliberate. I will come back for your answer, there is no need to rush into anything."

"No!" Tom practically yelled out of panic that he would lose this rare chance. It was the perfect opportunity, the boy couldn't have asked for a better way of his wish being granted.

The older wizard looked down to the boy. "Do you have an answer then?"

Tom looked up at the man, calculating his body gesture, his tone, anything that would be a sign that this was wrong. He found nothing.

"I'll go. When do we leave?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at his answer.

"Excellent. In a few days' time I will escort you to Diagon Alley where we will shop for your necessities and then to King's Cross Station where you will board the train to Hogwarts. And no worries," he added at the sight of Tom's expression that told him he had no money, "Hogwarts is more than happy to cover the costs, given your situation." The man pulled out a letter and handed it to the boy. "This is your acceptance letter. Inside has a list of what we will need to buy."

Dumbledore gave him a simple, "see you soon," and before the man was out the door, Tom had to ask one more thing. Something that had been bugging him before Hermione came.

"I can speak to snakes too." Dumbledore came to a screeching halt, his body suddenly paralyzed as if Tom had casted the full body binding spell. Tom continued. "They find me, whisper things… is that normal for someone like me?"

Dumbledore turned his head at the slightest degree until Tom was in his peripherals. He then turned his head until both pair of eyes met and from one look, from the hesitant actions the older man took, Tom knew it wasn't normal for someone like him.

"It is not common. You have a special gift." Despite the man's sweet words Tom could see through the lies.

Tom watched as the man nodded his farewell and left. The boy's eyes followed the man as he walked out of the gates and with one blink vanished into thin air. Hours passes as Tom stared out of his window, clutching the man's gift in his hands. His mind wandered back to Hermione. He was excited to go to this Hogwarts place. He would become stronger, bigger and eventually find her.

How would she react? Would she be ecstatic at his new found gift? Would she love him even more? Or would she shy away, afraid of him, cast him out like the monster so many have claimed him to be?

Tom shook his head vigorous to dispel the awful thought. She would love him and his magic. She had to.

A particular blond wizard with a goal of world domination on his to do list sat in his plush chair, twirling his wand between his fingers as he absentmindedly dove into that secluded place in his mind of the good old days with his once best friend. How he wished the prophecy wouldn't have to come down to one of their deaths. It would be so much easier if Albus turned back and came to Grindelwald. They were the two most powerful wizards. He knew it, Albus knew it, even the Minister of Magic, a figurehead for the people who held as much power as an elf, knew it.

Grindelwald let out a long breath of air as his mind swam back to reality. It would never happen and Grindelwald had to come to terms with it. What the orb said would come true.

Now, his mind was on his witch and her unfortunate obsession with this orphan boy. He almost lost control of his magic when he heard she actually tried to run away. What would have happened to her if she succeeded? He would have to hunt her down all over again and he doubt the magic that tied them together on that stormy night the first time would be there now to lead him to her. She could have died if she succeeded and he would have lost his chance at obtaining his goal.

It was time to get back to work.

"Come in," he ordered to the person who stood behind his door in silence.

The dark, mahogany red door swung open and his assistant from today came in. She kneeled in front of his feet.

"You called?"

"I wanted to applaud you for your work today. I never knew you were such a convincing actress."

A wicked smile crossed her lips. "I am pleased that you are pleased."

"Yes, I can see that," he whispered and sat up straight. "Now I have another job for you. The boy the girl mentioned. Tom I believe? You are to go to London, find this orphan and kill him. I do not need another variable to stand between my goals and success."

"Yes, sir."

He smirked at her question-less response. "Kill the boy but only the boy. One muggle brat missing won't set off alarms. Let no one see you. Make it look like an accident."

"Yes, sir," and with that she apparated out of his quarters.

Grindelwald apparated from his studies and reappeared in a cold, dark cellar at the bottom of his mansion. He walked over and stopped at the metal bars of a cell that caged a whimpering figure in the corner.

"Goblin," the dark wizard addressed the nameless creature. "It is time to put your talents to use. Serve me well and I might let you live."

"A-and if I r-re-refuse?" the goblin asked with the strongest voice he could muster but Grindelwald wasn't all too impress of the green blood that followed his words. The room and below freezing and the creature wore less than a house elf. Who knew how long Grindelwald had kept him down there?

Grindelwald smiled darkly at the goblin's pathetic attempt to act strong. He waved his wand and the goblin floated up as if an invisible person grabbed him by the throat and hauled him over to the wizard.

"I wouldn't waste time thinking about refusing me. You see, I'd hate to deafen myself with the screams of your children."

Another flick of his wand caused a blood curling scream to echo in the room.

"NO! NO PLEASE!" the goblin begged, squirming in midair as he tried to get down.

"I'm sorry, did you say something? I'm afraid it's a bit hard to hear," Grindelwald asked and flicked his wand again. The scream grew to a high octave that no living creature should be able to hit, not even a banshee, and the wizard took much joy in seeing all signs of defiance leave the goblin's eyes.

"I'll do whatever you want. Please, just stop," the goblin whispered defeated.

"Now that's a good goblin." Grindelwald patted the goblin's cheek demeaningly as if he was a pet.

The screams stopped but was replaced by a whimpering sob. Grindelwald tsked darkly. "Almost breaks my heart but of course you only have yourself to blame."

The goblin tried his best to glare at the wizard before his strength gave out.

"Well, that isn't a pretty face," the blond joked through a tight smile. His face clouded back into a dark storm as he lowered himself to eye level with the goblin.

"Now, as I was saying before..." He took out a spotless, silver dagger from his belt and pressed the cold blade against the goblin's wrinkly chin to lift up his face. A menacing smirk played on the wizard's lips. "I have a job for you."

Author's Note: And Grindelwald makes his first appearance since chapter one... The majority of the conversation between Tom and Dumbledore is from the sixth movie. Next few chapters will be Tom centered so hang in there.

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

Until next time.