This is my faviourite chapter so far simply because of my description of a new character who you will see in the chapter.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. If it was, I'd have a 360 by now.
Chapter XIII – Her Final Prediction
Grindelwald arched his crooked old back over Schutzengraben's lifeless body, flaring his nostrils in his menacing way, wand in hand. He stared at Schutzengraben's face with a mixture contempt and pity as he touched the tip of his wand to the German wizard's forehead. A ripple of magic slithered from Grindelwald's wand down into Schutzengraben's body. Grindelwald stole himself away from the scene and looked onward at the door his foes had escaped through that was burnt by spells from the dark wizard's wand.
Schutzengraben gasped and shot up from the golden ground. He breathed heavily as he looked around and spotted his master looking on absentmindedly, his gaze drifting into the distance. Schutzengraben stumbled over to Grindelwald and breathed, "thank you, master". "Silence you fool", Grindelwald snapped, "I am in a meditative state, do not interrupt me". With his head hung in apparent embarrassment, Schutzengraben moved a few spaces behind Grindelwald's back and looked on in engaged confusion at the marvelous mysticism of the great yet terrible wizard who stood before him.
In a tiny room at the inn of the Crying Kitten in West Yarndale, a witch sat on a small stool staring out the window, four wobbly legs holding her scrawny body precariously on the seat. The scrawny nature of her body was unfathomable at this time, however, due to the heavy and numerous lairs of multi-colored robes she had draped herself in. The only clue to her true thinness were high, sullen cheekbones that stole her face of it's youth and a long, scraggy, unnaturally wrinkled neck that poked half-heartedly out of the collar of those robes.
Her gaze was oddly peering over the empty, snowbound streets, as though waiting for someone who would never come. She lowered her head, her chin touched her chest, she inhaled deeply and bellowed with a supernatural voice, "The Dark Lord is rising; spawn from the dying blood of Slytherin, born a child with power beyond his years, to do terrible things, to find the key to immortality, to fall and rise only to fall again, for he will know never true magic". The witch's body shook on the stool as she returned from her trance. She looked around her, swing her head from side to side, looking all around the room in utter confusion. Jerking her head to the side, she returned to peering out the window.
Out of the shadows behind the witch stepped a man with warts and graying hair, nearly bald. He was sporting black robes and his body hunched over slightly like some gargoyle. His eyes burned with determination, nearing anger. He stepped in front of the witch who barely recognized him as more than obstacle of her sight. She attempted to peak around his body as he knelt in front of the witch. "Gwendolyn", Grindelwald said, taking hold of her shoulders and shaking her like a rag doll, "do you remember what you said"? Gwendolyn just continued to elongate her neck to watch the motionless streets. "Gwendolyn, I need to know", Grindelwald said, even more determined than before, shaking her even more vigorously, "I need to know where he is. Where is the Dark Lord"? Gwendolyn, shaking Grindelwald off her said, "Do you mind, sir. I'm a tad busy at the moment".
Grindelwald stood up and moved behind Gwendolyn, squeezing the bridge of his nose in frustration. Then he looked down at the seer, and without hesitation he pulled out his wand, pointed it at the back of her head and indifferently said, "Avada Kedavra". For a moment, it was as though Grindelwald hadn't illuminated the room in the green light, but then, Gwendolyn swayed lightly on the stool and she slithered off her seat, her corpse completely limp. He exited the room and looked at the bushy haired man, who had been waiting in the hallway, his arms crossed. "Right then, Peter", Grindelwald said, "I want you to contact our men on the inside. If there are any new prophecies in the Ministry I want to know about it. In fact, investigate all ministries, all over Europe, I want no stone unturned, do you understand me"? "Yes, Master", Fleischer said and he turned to walk down the hall toward the stairs. "Where are you, Dark Lord"? Grindelwald said, "Where are you"?
Schutzengraben was now becoming impatient, though he would never voice any unwanted views against his master, especially on such an important mission. The silence of the Golden Atrium echoed through Schutzengraben's bones. He twitched and fidgeted uncomfortably while he waited for Grindelwald to speak again. Suddenly, Grindelwald gave a great moan of agony and clutched his stomach. Schutzengraben acted as a good servant should and hurried over to attend to his master's needs. "Master", Schutzengraben said, "what is wrong"? "Nothing, you fool", Grindelwald said, shoving his follower to one side, "in fact things have never been so right. I know where it is".
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