AN: Thank you, my reviewers!

ShadowDweller, I intended to write even chapters with Dumbledore as narrator, and odd ones - with various people from Grindelwald circle as narrators.

Star Mirage, you are my eternal muse :)

Chapter 3. Conversations and Conspiracies.

Halloween 1944, Bernese Alps, Yungfrau Region.

Ivonne Wald

Ivonne Wald could be completely satisfied with today's breakfast. On account of their guests' recent arrival, it had been served in the Main Breakfast Room, not in the Minor Red Room, as usual, and now, at last, she was granted with the possibility to show herself as the mistress of the castle. Or had it been for nothing, all those tiresome trainings that she had to take almost since the day she was born? She was taught with various rules of etiquette in order to behave like 'a noble girl has to' and, for Merlin sake, not to become a family's disgrace by forgetting which setting is proper for oysters or which one she should greet first, countess or duchess. Oh, her maman was expert in rituals! But, alas and alas again; her family had not enough money for the way of living that supposed implementing of the majority of them. That is why Ivonne's education as 'noble and respectable wizard girl' had long been no more than useless store of knowledge.

She accepted as a due the duty of soon and advantageous marriage, which was planted in her - very carefully but emphatically – by her family. Well, Ivonne herself thought that it would be not bad at all. There was only a small problem: An absence of decent challengers. Of course, there were plenty of rich pureblooded wizards, in Germany as well as in the neighbor countries, but… Those 'rich and pureblooded' were trying to win not in the least a portionless girl from the family which left everything in the past – money, connections, reputation – but somebody more promising.

'Good morning to you, Frau Felsen. How did you rest after your trip? Everything was fine with your rooms?'

'Oh yes, thank you.'

Catherine Felsen and her husband, Klaas Felsen, arrived here almost at down. They had to fly four hours on their brooms, for Chimney Network in the castle was not anymore operating, and, on top of everything, they got into snow storm. Though, Catherine should be accustomed to such kind of weather – she is Russian, after all…

Ivonne did not like Russians and even was slightly afraid of them. Russia was a wild, barbarian country, still wallowed in primitive paganism. Moreover, her sister had eloped with some miserable halfblood from Russia when Ivonne was about fifteen. After that sad event, her chances of decent marriage, never being high enough, dropped practically to nothing. Because she knew for sure - that haughty and pompous 'respectable society' would never accept her as equal…

Empty-headed silly woman that formed the majority of so called 'high-society' were able only to gossip endlessly and pointlessly about people of their acquaintance. Snake tongues and sugar smiles. Like that Octavia Eisgrotte. All covered with gold and jewels, and chattered incessantly. Ivonne carefully smiled in response and nodded from time to time.

In the time of events of thirty two, Ivonne was only eighteen. No perspectives ahead; and from inescapable – their cold, bleak house and her maman who completely and irreversibly lost any connection with reality. Ivonne even began to think of leaving Germany for good, maybe cross the ocean and settle, for instance, in Canada…

But several years later her fate gave her a most unexpected and pleasant surprise. On one of the charity dinners, where she and her mother were still invited to, she met non other than Baron Trentius Wald. Rich, noble, not-so-old, and – the most important - with very reliable family connections… Ivonne listed all pros and contras. 'Contra' was only the fact, that she, having got involved with Wald, would certainly lose her good name – but, to say the truth, since her sister shameful elopement she had not much of a good name left. And anyway, what's the purpose of that 'good name'? Was it important at least for somebody in their age of permissiveness and cynicism?

For this Potter-boy, for example, both 'conscience' and 'loyalty' had long ago become mere empty words. Not mentioning the word 'betrayal'. He was probably burning with desire to get to Grindelwald Laboratories; nearly dying from impatience… That's always happening: those children with brilliant minds and flawed souls create the next super-weapon, and then – with the same recklessness – use it against their own families…

Heartless scum, she thought.

'Did you sleep well, Mr. Potter?'

'Very well, thank you.'

Calm, self-confident, handsome – and is well aware of it. That kind always sleeps well. She would have never said that Potter and Tristan Wald were of the same age, had not she known it for sure. Poor Tristan… a truly nobody. A small, but painful prick to her husband's family pride. Ivonne did not expect that her stepson would grow into something at least half-decent; those over-sensitive hothouse boys are rarely capable of something. She herself was much more mature at Tristan's age, and her course of life was far from being a bed of roses.

But she stood up; and, by the way, was never pitied by anybody.

Aby

Heavy table-cloth didn't let the light in, and under the table it was like in the small house. Fraulein Smiph will never find her here. Her secret sanctuary, her magic castle. Terribly wonderful and mysterious.

'Good morning, Princess!'

'Good morning, Milady Ebengarde!'

Bows and curtseys; two dolls obey her as their mistress.

So many legs under the table! They are so funny. Those are dad's. And those in-toed – brother's.

"Did you sleep well, Mr. Potter?"

Nasty, evil Ivonne; Aby will never call her 'mummy'.

"Very well, thank you."

Who's that? Somebody new? Legs are usual, robes are plain, all are black as night. Aby thinks for a moment and then continues:

'Did you sleep well, Princess?'

'Oh, not at all! How could I sleep if my candle constantly died away? I had to look through the window all night long, into that terrible storm!'

'Ah! How's that, Princess? Bad house elves haven't brought you a lamp? Then we should punish them at once! What do you prefer, Princess – impale them or weld them in boiling oil?'

No, this is not interesting. She was bored with elves' punishment. Better this:

'Where is my Captain of the Guards?'

'Yes, Milady?'

'An Enemy has infiltrated my castle! He gave no rest to my guests! I order you to find him, dead or alive, and bring me his head on the big silver plate!'

'As you wish, Milady!'

Aby smiles, and a squadron of brave soldiers lead by her Captain of the Guards sets out in search of Evil Enemy. Tam-tam-tamm! Duh-dee-dunn!

Girl crawls on all fours, and around her, as if forest of column or dead trees, are somebody's legs.

'A-a-a-a! What's that?!'

Forest began to move; the table-cloth was waving dangerously. Aby clenched and covered her ears.

'Please, calm down, Frau Octavia… I am absolutely sure that there are no mice in the castle… You're sure that you have not imagined it?'

Then the table-cloth is moved away, and Aby flees, frightened with loud shrieks and turmoil.

'Ah! That was the little girl!' – laugh - 'Playing under the table, naughty child…'

But little Aby, or Ebengarde Wald, was not hearing that sound, for she ran far-far away from the Main Breakfast room.

Under the table, on the floor, her little dolls are lying, forgotten. One of them is still moving its puny legs as if trying to walk: carrying out his Lady's order, fearless Captain of the Guards is continuing the search of the dangerous Evil Enemy, secretly infiltrated into his mistress' castle.

Klaas Felsen

Smiling kindly, Klaas Felsen was watching the turmoil caused by Wald's daughter. Poor good old Octavia jumped so quick that she nearly lost her wig. Ivonne, in her role of 'woman of high society', almost succeeded in dissembling of her confusion – almost, but not quite. In general, as the matter of fact, she conducted herself rather well, though she was still far beneath the true nobility. Felsen shifted his eyes to his wife, and congratulated himself again of his wise choice of life's spouse.

By marrying her, Felsen only intended to improve their relationships with Eastern Coalition (Catherine was the sister of Yaroslav Stavrogine, the Head of Russian Council of Mages), but what he obtained was beyond all expectation. Calm, intelligent, with perfect self-control, free from sudden emotions and stupid prejudices – and at the same time not looking like a cold mechanical doll – Catherine appeared to be just the woman he needed in his position. A true life companion, a companion in arms.

He came to terms with her easily. That was usual for him: he always got well with people. Stiff old-fashioned warlocks, foolish young girls from the new nobility, even that unfortunate rubbish – muggleborns and half-breeds - Feslen could find the right approach to every one of them.

Those who had gathered there were no exceptions.

Ivonne believed him to be her secret ally ever since he had dropped a slight hint on his dislike of Baroness Aurora, and let her know that he would gladly appreciate if her place would take somebody more worthy. It was interesting, though, whether he had really encourage that sentimental silly girl who imagined herself to be a peak of slyness, to the action… because it was clear to him that the circumstances of Aurora Wald's death were not quite matching to what the official sources said. It's not important, however. In fact, Trentius himself might have done it, for he was not a dweeb whom everybody believed him to be. From the considerations of his own, Felsen concluded that now Trentius was simply playing a waiting game – what was not at all stupid, taking into account their unfortunate situation…

Glass appeared to him as a creature from other planet. It is common to believe that the science and research make human a better being – well, it was enough to meet Jurgen Glass and his co-workers in order to become certain of unfairness, to say the least, of that belief. However, let him distiller the mudblood's guts; everybody had his own hobby, after all. Especially taking into account that when it came to the real action, Glass was indeed very useful. He was even more useful than their main 'Man of Action' – Eisgrotte – because Eisgrotte's rude methods of solving very delicate matters could do sometimes more harm than profit. Felsen himself was able to achieve far more prominent results with very little visible efforts. But sometimes Eisgrotte was indispensable – and Felsen looked again at the breakfast table, crammed with all sort of delicacies.

Recently Felsen began to pay attention to Tristan Wald, who had been usually – and mistakenly - ignored by elder generation. As it often happened with children in rich and successful families, Tristan had grown an ardent, passionate idealist, who believed himself to be the Chosen One, called to change everything in our imperfect world for better. Of course, those romantics usually started with defying most precious values of their family and friends, trying to demonstrate their stormy 'noble impulses' where possible. As time went by, the ardour and zeal smoothened, and a Great Destructor turned to usual man – strong or weak, clever or stupid – it could not be predicted, but now, in the short period of his rebellious youth, he was a figure unknown. It would be not bad to take in hand this 'pale youth', Felsen thought.

The other young man, whom he noticed immediately upon arrival, was the Andrew Potter – Felsen was already sick of hearing about him from Glass. Felsen rather liked the boy, though. It was obvious that Potter is not stupid and is well aware of what he is aiming at. His goal, however, was not very dissimilar to the goal of Glass himself: he thirsted for knowledge, at any form, and at any price. Let him get into Laboratories, and then he wouldn't be noticing anyone at all. Like Glass and everyone there. Maybe, like Grindelwald himself…

And today, as he had heard, their company would join Lorraine Delacour, whom he had not the honor to know before and whom he had been looking forward to meet. She was very interesting for him - and not only because she was an object of dreaming of young Tristan Wald. Some things that he heard about Delacour made Felsen to imagine her as quite an intriguing person.

But that would happen later; now, after the breakfast, he had some other important things to do.

Trentius Wald

At ten o'clock in the morning Jurgen Glass and his new protégée departed for the Laboratories; and luckily, Felsen went with them. It was hard to say why Felsen decided to go there; probably, he did it 'just in case'. So be it. Ladies gathered in one of the sitting-rooms. Tristan was in his 'studio' (that's how he named that tastelessly decorated pavilion), and poor Aby was serving her sentence under Fraulein Smiph supervision - the girl was punished for spoiling the breakfast with her unsociable behaviour.

Baron Wald invited Gualando Eisgrotte to his private study under the pretext of showing him some rare manuscripts that had been brought to him from East Carpathian excavations. But actually, their conversation was to deal with matters not in the least ancient, but opposite, most contemporary ones. Having closed the door thoroughly with Silent Ward spell and checked it twice, Trentius turned to his interlocutor. For more than a month already, they both knew that this conversation was unavoidable. But even now, Trentius was surprised with Eisgrotte's straightforwardness:

'Baron, neither you nor I are stupid. We understand what is going on perfectly.'

Trentius nodded carefully.

'The Muggle regime in Germany will fall tomorrow if not today. And it'll take the remains of their Wizarding Society with itself.'

'It is obvious. They were as good as done in thirty nine, when we deprived them of our assistance.'

'Yes, I am well aware of our plan; divide and conquer and so on,' waved Eisgrotte jauntily. 'But what are we left with now? We were supposed to come to an agreement with Stavrogine, but that did not happen. I am not a fool, though, and knew that it was impossible from the very beginning. Russia is a very special case; we will never understand it. Just think of it – thirty years of their Red Nightmare could not break the Society; while we were thinking that they should collapse to Dark Ages within year or two...'

Of all that Trentius was aware not worse than Eisgrotte, and thus gave a sign, indicating "we are lack of time, so continue".

'Sorry, I digressed. Well, Russians are not an option. Then who? Official England would suit us perfectly; especially since the majority, as it seemed, shared our opinion on cooperation with Muggle world. And then – almost like a magic, doesn't it? - ' Eisgrotte produced an unkind smile, pointing at the irony of his words, 'this strange Ollan comes to power – from where did he come out at all? – and they turn their back to us before we manage to set our dearest Klaas upon them.'

Trentius sighed; yes, something strange occurred then in Britain. It might seem that unfortunate example of what happened in Germany, when local wizards decided to close in with the muggles, and got as a result… what they got, should have prevented all other muggle-lovers from experiments of the kind – but what happened was just the opposite. Of course, the bitter experience of the neighbors hadn't gone unnoticed, and the new British Ministry of Magic made some obvious arrangements – but still, they did not refused from the idea of Open Society.

Even then, however, Felsen did not lose hope that the agreement between their countries was sill possible. There were a lot of old nobility in Britain, ultra-conservative in their beliefs. They knew for sure that many of these families – Malfoys, Blacks, Garnets to name a few - possessed a great power while being in opposition to Ministry new course. But then Trentius' brother and leader of their party, Grindelwald, for some unknown reason performed some utterly stupid actions. Trentius had always considered them stupid, no need to deny it. Now, Eisgrotte should obviously mention it.

'And what did we do? Try to with the support of their opposition? Not at all. Instead of that, we continued our bloody pursuits, as if there was something important in this hunt. And there was not ninety ten out there, and after a few of our "doings", worthy of the craziest of muggle maniacs, every respectable wizard began to dash aside from us as from a pack of mad dogs.'

Yes, that was true indeed. Those terrible years, from ninety ten till ninety fifteen, all of them tried to forget as soon as possible. As if somebody could forget it. Even some of their closest associates fled from them during that nightmare. Von Strommen family, for example, had left among the first ones, to his surprise. They had seemingly nothing to afraid of. Trentius always wandered of the variety of forms that fear could take.

Eisgrotte was right, a thousand times right… Ninety ten is the one thing, but an attempt to repeat the same in the beginning of forties… A stupidity, unforgivable stupidity. Unforgivable.

'I know what you are driving at, Eisgrotte.'

He stumpled in the middle of the sentence.

'Toss this prehistory aside. Say it. Say it now. Say it straight'.

Eisgrotte was taking a great risk, and Trentius was well aware of that. What if Trentius write this entire dialog in Pensieve later, and show it to his brother Grindelwald? Then poor Gualando could not be saved even by the fact that he and Grindelwald were friends since their childhood. But whatever Eisgrotte's thoughts had been, he brought himself to it in the end. A remarkable deed.

'If you please, Wald. We are at a deadlock. None of the influential Wizarding societies support us. That disgusting muggle regime is still helping, but this is… you understand. We are left with only one possibility – to wait till muggle Germany fell, and disappear in havoc that will arise. Go into hiding somewhere in Carpathian woods. Cease all activity. Stop that idiotic project of Glass… yes, yes, I know what it means for Grindelwald. That it is a work of all his life…'

Eisgrotte moved closer and finished:

'But if he won't stop know, he will be deprived of not only of the work of his life, but of the very life itself.'

Trentius bit his lip. All of that was true; Eisgrotte was right to a slightest detail… But he simply could not imagine what this project meant for his brother.

'It is impossible, Eisgrotte,' said Trentius briefly and turned away.

That's it. Conversation was over. Weak noise behind Trentius's back told him that Gualando Eisgrotte rose from his seat.

'So… You may lift the wards, Trentius.'

He approached the door and, trying not to meet Eisgrotte's eyes, broke magic seals.

Standing at the door, Gualando suddenly put his hand on baron's shoulder and smiled openly. Then he said:

'Thank you.'

AN: Thank you for your attention! As always, reviews are welcome...