Disclaimer: This story is based on characters created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N:
Thanks to all of those who reviewed!
And thanks to the reader who warned me that chapter 22 was chapter 21 repeated. I already fixed it and it's back to being the real chapter 22. ^^
I'll be answering reviews in the A/N of the next chapter, which I hope to post in a few days.
Also, I know that some of you don't like polls, but I still like them very much as a way of knowing your opinions. Polls are much easier and quick to answer than writing full reviews, so I've always thought it was a convenient thing for readers. And don't fear about the results of polls making me change the story in ways I don't want. In the end, I'll always write what I feel is right for the plot and characters, but your opinions are always very highly valued. So I'll be doing some polling in future chapters.
Warning: There are some gruesome, sickening, harsh scenes in this chapter. Do skip them if that sort of thing is too much. I'm not going to be gentle with sensibilities in this fic because, well, it's going to deal with nasty stuff, inevitably, given the era it's taking place in.
Note: This chapter is all Julian Erlichmann. Just to let you know beforehand and prevent peeved grumblings from Harry/Tom enthusiasts, lol.
New Pics: In my Yahoo Group, in the folder for this fic, I've uploaded 3 wonderful fanart pics made by Skarp – thanks so very much, I love them!
As always, all languages that aren't English are in Italics.
Part I: Chapter 23
During his years in Beauxbatons, Julian had seen pictures of Grindelwald in the newspapers, of course. And he had faint, vague recollections about the man, from when he had been a child and Grindelwald had visited his father in their home.
Seeing him in person, when he himself was an adult wizard who had already experienced attraction to his own kind and knew the pleasures of the flesh, was quite a different matter.
In the midst of his birthday celebration, his father had waved him over. And Julian had seen him standing next to Grindelwald, with a large crowd surrounding them with adoring, enchanted, servile, greedy, or sycophantic expressions on their faces, as they listened avidly to the Dark Lord's every word.
His father had whispered something in the Dark Lord's ear and the wizard's hazel eyes had flickered to him. Julian had almost halted in his steps as he made his way towards them.
Grindelwald's hawk-like gaze had roamed along his body to end up studying his face. And Julian saw it then, in the Dark Lord's hazel eyes: a glint of surprise and startled recognition, as if the wizard was beholding a ghost. The glint turned into one of interest, which quickly became a hungry, covetous spark as Grindelwald kept staring at his face.
Just mere feet from the man, Julian had suddenly felt something very potently, and he had shivered with unwanted pleasure.
Santi had abruptly shimmered into existence right by his side, as he whispered urgently in German, "You're very sensitive to Dark Magic, as you already know. That's his power and magical core you're feeling. Don't let it ensnare you."
It was a moot point. Julian hadn't been able to help himself. He had exhaled deeply, trying to steady his breathing, as he finally stood before the Dark Lord, under the wizard's piercing gaze.
His father had made the proper formal introductions and Grindelwald had soon taken Julian by the arm, gently escorting him to a more secluded corner of the vast, elegant ballroom.
"I've heard many great things about you, from your father," had intoned Grindelwald softly, his hazel eyes still fixed on his features, closely roving over them. "And I have read much about you when you won the European Dueling Championship. I congratulate you, Julian. Such a great accomplishment for one as young as you."
With something stuck in his throat, Julian had only nodded jerkily, feeling like an utter fool. Yet the evening had soon become something out of a dream.
Like in one of those romantic novels that some of his female friends in Beauxbatons had gushed about, Julian had found himself the object of much charming gallantry, softly spoken praises, and admiring, passionate looks. He had been heavily courted. Grindelwald certainly didn't waste any time in obtaining something he desired.
The wizard had even asked him to show him the 'splendorous, famed gardens of the Erlichmann estate'. And as Julian complied and meandered along the charming, pebbled paths along ponds, fountains and statues, being gallantly carried by the arm by Grindelwald, he had seen his parents gazing at them from the arched windows of the ballroom, glowing with pride and satisfaction, as they whispered to one another.
In his parents' view, the evening was a complete success. Grindelwald had asked them for permission to induct him in his ranks. Moreover, Julian was given private chambers in Nurmengard Tower itself, right next to Grindelwald's. Not much subtlety there, though the Dark Lord didn't press the matter after that. He had taken his time.
Julian began by being just one more follower, though he was initiated right into the mid-level ranks. However, he had been unprepared for Grindelwald's courting tactics.
He had thought he would have to deal with an imposing, dominant man, who took what he wanted and demanded obeisance in all aspects. After all, Grindelwald was the Dark Lord and Julian just a lackey; if the man wanted to take him to bed, Julian could only comply.
He should have known better. Grindelwald's debonair air and suave, charming and gallant ways were legendary. In the first year as the man's follower, the wizard never made any sexual overtures towards him, never pressured or coerced him in any way.
Instead, there were heated, desireful glances now and then, soft pats on the shoulder, brief caresses along an arm or knee that seemed nothing more than accidentally lingering touches. It was done so artfully and subtly that for many months Julian wasn't quite sure if he was interpreting the situation correctly.
Furthermore, Grindelwald was quick to exploit Julian's weaknesses: the man enthralled him with his vastly superior knowledge, sharing such with him as well as life stories and personal experiences, with trusting openness; giving Julian precious and unique tomes of books to read from his own personal collection; feeding Julian's own need for affection and attention by becoming his mentor in the Dark Arts, by teaching him such powerful dark rituals and spells that Julian had never even imagined he could come to know or master; by openly praising Julian's magical abilities and encouraging more excellence from him; and ultimately, by showing interest in the things that Julian loved the most.
Countless evenings Grindelwald made Julian sing and play his magic flute for him, alone in Grindelwald's chambers, only illuminated by the fireplace and few candles, infusing the rooms in a cozy, intimate ambiance. The Dark Lord always showed true, honest enjoyment and his praises were candid as he encouraged Julian to keep practicing his art in his spare time.
Julian was aware of such manipulations, such as Grindelwald purposely showering on him the affection his own father had not when he had been a child, yet he was unable to make himself care about it.
The trap was set and Julian ended up willingly stepping into it. Grindelwald never initiated the intimate aspect of their relationship. It had been Julian who, one night after a session of flute-playing, had stood up to then lean forward to tentatively press a soft kiss on the seated wizard's lips. Grindelwald hadn't moved and had allowed Julian to slowly and hesitantly take control, as his exploring touches turned into caresses and then passionate grabs.
It was what was ultimately expected of him, after all, but not only that, it was what he had truly desired as well, like a hungry need that had grown to an unbearable level and had to be quenched.
Yet the first six months of his intimate relationship with the wizard had been torturous at best. It was as if a dam had been broken the moment Julian initiated the sexual aspect of their relationship and Grindelwald hadn't repressed himself any longer; there was no affection in it, but lust, hunger, and anger.
Julian was well aware that in those months he wasn't being seen.
The love that the Dark Lord held for Albus Dumbledore, who was now clearly an enemy, was something Julian came to slowly understand in those months. It was a twisted thing, fueled by hurt, longing, need, and obsession, but also, fury and hatred due to a perceived betrayal. All of that was unleashed on Julian, as Grindelwald became brutal when he took him, clawed at him and bit down on his shoulder as he released deep inside Julian with punishing thrusts, inaudibly groaning out "Albus" instead of Julian's name.
With shuddering effort, he made himself bear it and was nothing if not pliant and never said a word against it, though those feelings that had started to blossom during the gentle 'courting stage' had been stumped.
It was also then when he sometimes came to truly despise Albus Dumbledore, when Grindelwald's hazel eyes turned clouded and hazed, unfocused as if lost in a memory, in those moments when he violently subdued Julian in bed and used him as a substitute to dole out his punishment.
It was in his second year as Grindelwald's follower, when he rose to the highest ranks as he proved himself invaluable to the Dark Lord, as he excelled in everything Grindelwald taught him, as his input in planning meetings were listened to and seriously considered, as he broke the six-month mark of being the Dark Lord's lover against all expectations and followers started whispering about him, enviously, angrily, or with some admiration, that things slowly started to change.
Julian could never pinpoint when it actually happened, but one day the glances Grindelwald shot him were not just heated and lustful, but became thoughtful stares.
And in the days in which they spent much time together out of bed, it wasn't only Julian enjoying the man's company and words, but the other way around as well: Grindelwald's lips began to hitch upwards now and then, or the man started to outright laugh and chortle at some witty quip Julian made, or his hazel eyes brightened at the sight of him, or a blissful expression of true enjoyment spread on the man's handsome face as he relaxed and fell into a placid slumber as Julian played the flute for him.
It was then that when Grindelwald looked at him, Julian realized the wizard was truly seeing him, for the first time. He would catch an expression of wonder briefly crossing the man's handsome features, or a softening look in the hazel eyes as their encounters in bed stopped being brutal, and tender, affectionate caresses began to be involved.
The night when Grindelwald groaned out Julian's name instead of Albus', an unwanted feeling surged in him due to it, of joy, gratefulness, and of sheer longing need being finally satisfied. It was then when Julian realized his downfall had begun, since the Dark Lord became 'Gellert' in his mind.
"You're a gem," Gellert would softly murmur into Julian's ear as they laid satiated in bed, their limbs entangled with each other's. The first time the wizard said it, his tone of voice sounded a bit perplexed and awe-struck, as if wondering at his own developing sentiments.
It soon became Gellert's affectionate pet name for him when they were alone - 'mein Edelstein', 'my gem'- and Julian's insides would twist and recoil when hearing it because it always made him rejoice, much against his will and better judgment.
The situation became worse when Gellert proved to be too understanding of Julian's nature, accepting it and seemingly cherishing him all the more for it.
Indeed, it caught Julian unawares one day, just like in many others, when Grindelwald had accompanied him down to the dungeons to observe how Julian put into practice all the dark curses the Dark Lord had been teaching him.
"You don't enjoy causing pain," suddenly said Gellert quietly, when the prisoner Julian had been subjecting to a curse finally stopped screaming and fell into unconsciousness.
Julian stiffened at that, lowering his wand, being unable to stop his hand from shaking at the frisson of fear that spread through him.
From the first day when Grindelwald had showed him the dungeons, Julian had done his best not to show abhorrence on his face when seeing the heart-wrenching state of the prisoners: skeletal, starved, gazing out with dull eyes, looking lifeless whilst cramped in horrid, fetid tiny cells, lying among their own waste.
They were the people Dumbledore wanted Julian to save, after all. The Jews that had been disappearing from both the Wizarding and Muggle World for the last few years, and who had clearly been tortured in all possible ways.
It was an unbearable sight for him, but Julian had been very careful to never allow his face to show his true reaction to it.
With a flick of his wand and a muttered incantation, Grindelwald mended the ripped ribcage of the unconscious prisoner.
Julian swallowed thickly and stood still as the wizard turned around to gaze at him, half-expecting he would be punished for not being cold-blooded enough.
A pensive expression spread on Gellert's face as he regarded Julian closely, as if trying to puzzle out the intricacies of some strange, fascinating being. "You take pleasure in the Dark Arts themselves, which stands to reason given you're naturally talented in them, yet you don't take pleasure in using them for torture."
Julian remained still in wary silence, not quite sure where the remarks were going to lead.
"It's something quite unusual in a dark wizard of your caliber and bloodline," continued Grindelwald, now looking half amused, half exasperated, a glint of tickled fondness shining in his hawk-like eyes as his lips quirked upwards. "The feeling of such power over others calls to all of us of our kind, though clearly not to you."
Taking hold of Julian's left hand, the wizard brought it up to his face and brushed his lips against the knuckles in a soft, gallant kiss, gently dropping it as he said musingly, "It's another unexpected little thing about you that I find strangely compelling."
Flabbergasted, Julian merely stared back at him, his sky blue eyes growing big.
Gellert chortled loudly, as he trailed a caress down Julian's cheek. "I do like the look on your face when I don't act like the big, bad Dark Lord you surely expected me to be."
And with that, and a jaunty wink, the wizard turned around and started to amble his way out of the dungeons, not pausing as he added over his shoulder as an afterthought and lofty warning, "It doesn't mean, mein Edelstein, that I give you leave to quit your practice sessions with the prisoners. Carry on without me and let their screams sing to me as I make my way up."
A bit numbed, partly relieved, partly disturbed, Julian obeyed instantly.
It was shortly after that that he noticed how his status among the ranks changed. No longer did other followers whisper nastily behind his back, calling him the Dark Lord's whore or boy-toy. The cleverer, who realized how the tides were flowing, treated him with much respect and calculating amiability, not only for being the son of Egon Erlichmann but also the Dark Lord's 'favorite', as became his unofficial title, since he was too young to be part of the Haupte Kommandanten and certainly didn't have enough clout and experience to substitute the vaunted Konrad Von Krauss as Grindelwald's Right Hand.
His ascendancy was clear when Grindelwald started to take him along with him everywhere.
In the meetings in the Reichstag, before Herr Hitler and his cronies, he was introduced as Grindelwald's personal secretary. After all, to those muggles, Grindelwald was a wealthy industrialist and fervent nationalist, owner of countless factories that were producing airplane and submarine parts, artillery and guns.
Grindelwald was accepted into their group in an advisory capacity, though it was obvious to Julian that quite a bit of mind-nudging and compels took place often with a surreptitious flick of the Dark Lord's wand, since the muggles always ended up doing what Grindelwald suggested. Just as he was certain that the moment the top tier of Nazi hierarchy stopped being useful, they would all be swiftly obliviated.
The Dark Lord's growing affection for him became evident, as well, in the trust the wizard started to bestow upon him.
This became clear the day that Gellert handed to him a thick pile of old, yellowed parchments, as he pierced him with his hawk-like gaze and intoned gravely, "Only Konrad knows about this, and now you."
Julian had a full week of sleepless nights, all his candles burning out to be left as nothing more than melted wax, as he submerged himself in the research that Ulrich Von Krauss had so long ago pieced together.
His father had always told him that Ulrich Von Krauss had been an utter fool, pathetically pinning after Grindelwald since they were young boys in Durmstrang, following the man in their decades spent in travels whilst spending every last knut of the Von Krauss's once formidable fortune, and even being stupid enough to sign a marital contract for his heir without realizing the trap in it.
After all, it was common knowledge and source of much derision that the family of Konrad Von Krauss's wife had tricked them. The fortune Ludmilla had inherited from her wealthy Russian family had not gone to replenish the Von Krauss's empty coffers, as traditionally happened with the riches of married witches, but rather, Konrad's wife still held complete control over her fortune, only to pass it down to her daughter when the time came.
Ulrich Von Krauss had left nothing to his son except numerous estates, the majority of which had become abandoned and dilapidated since Konrad didn't have funds of his own to maintain them.
Nevertheless, utter careless idiot as Ulrich Von Krauss had certainly been in many aspects of his life, it was clear to Julian that the wizard had been a brilliant scholar and historian.
The night he finished reading the wizard's research, Julian was left breathless with wonder, his mind spinning, his blue eyes unfocused and wide.
It was a loud clearing of a throat that yanked Julian from his absorption. He blinked as he glanced at Santi, who was shimmering and standing right next to the desk, gazing down at him with an expectant expression on his face.
"So now you know," said Santi jovially, when Julian remained mute.
Julian stared at him before his gaze swiveled back to the stack of parchments, his voice hoarse as he croaked out, "Is it all true?"
"It is," replied Santi, humming contently under his breath as he perched himself on the edge of the desk.
In that instant, Julian abruptly became agitated and frenzied with fear, and he gestured wildly at Ulrich Von Krauss' research. "Why would Gellert want me to know so much? I don't want to know this! It's dangerous information!"
His earlier missions during his first year as a follower had been to go through the warehouses the Nazis had, filled with the things they had stolen from Jews' homes. They had to detect anything magical in nature and study it carefully in case of traces, clues, and hidden information - anything pertaining to some 'great treasure' the Jews were keeping hidden.
No one in Grindelwald's ranks actually knew what that 'treasure' was, though there was much speculation going around. And he was no fool: he knew what it meant to be the second person, besides the Dark Lord himself, to know about the truth.
A couple of months ago, when he had wanted a more precise time-frame than Santi's usual vague response of "your life will be short", because by wizarding standards a short life could be eighty years old, he had demanded another answer from his life-long companion.
Santi's reply of "you won't live to see your twenty-fifth birthday" had certainly shortened his expectations, though he had been twenty when he had asked, and knowing Santi, it could mean he had just a few months left or perhaps a couple of full years.
Thus, the last thing Julian wanted was to know what the true object of the Dark Lord's Quest was – information that put his already shortened lifespan at risk, clearly.
Julian shakily carded his finger through his short auburn hair, and breathed out frantically, "Gellert will soon realize what a foolish mistake he made by giving me this and he'll snuff me out like this!" He snapped his fingers. "What could have possessed him to trust me with such information!"
A realization struck him, and he gazed at Santi with wide, fearful eyes. "It's a test, isn't it? He suspects me. He-"
"He doesn't suspect you," interjected Santi calmly, before he shot him a wide, beaming smile that had a taunting quirk to it. "You've played your part well and you've made him become very fond of you. Men make stupid mistakes when blinded by affection. A Dark Lord is no exception."
Julian scowled at him with irritation as he bit out acidly, "There's no 'affection' and the Dark Lord would certainly not be swayed by something like that-"
"No affection, really?" interrupted Santi, arching an ethereal eyebrow at him, looking as if he expected Julian to suddenly pour his heart out. "From neither side? Why, and I was quite certain you had fed each other love potions."
Not at all amused by Santi's humorous quips, Julian shot him a dirty look and turned away from him, not wanting for a second to think about the maelstrom of conflicting emotions he had been feeling lately.
It was then when Santi's playful expression vanished from his face, turning grave, as he said sharply, "I told you not to become enthralled by him. I warned you what would happen, and you've utterly disregarded my-"
"I have not become 'enthralled'!" snapped Julian, spinning around to glare at him. "I'm not a schoolboy anymore. Stop treating me as such."
"By the way you've been acting I would say you are," interjected Santi harshly. "You think Dumbledore hasn't noticed how your reports have been lacking? How they've become shorter and shorter with each passing week? He already suspects that you have become infatuated with Grindelwald."
"My reports are short because I have no more information to give him," gritted out Julian, his posture becoming defensive, utterly ignoring that last accusation.
Nevertheless, in his view, his statement was true. During the first year, he had given Dumbledore every possible detail about the wards of Nurmengard. In that respect there was nothing more he could do.
It was Dumbledore who was working with that information and had already concluded that the wards were too powerful to bring down completely. The wizard had informed him that he was coming up with spells that would momentarily disable the wards for a few minutes – long enough for Julian to use portkeys that would take the Jewish prisoners away from Nurmengard and into the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts.
Moreover, after many months of testing the waters with some followers who didn't seem too firm in their convictions or fanaticism, or who flinched and recoiled from torturing prisoners, he had managed to recruit two as spies for Dumbledore.
Granted, he hadn't dared attempt to recruit one of the Haupte Kommandanten. Instead, one was in the low ranks and the other in the mid, but it would still be two spies he would leave behind when he was no longer around, so he wouldn't be leaving Dumbledore in the dust.
And from all the other discoveries he had made, it had been Santi who had stopped him from informing Dumbledore of the two most important ones.
Indeed, a few months ago when Gellert had started showing him too much trust, and he had become uncomfortable with it, he had been granted access to the other side of the floor from where his quarters and Gellert's were. The Dark Lord had finally allowed him to enter his office.
It had been the subject of much gossip that the Dark Lord had spent much of his time during the past couple of years entrenched in his office, apparently absorbed in a pensieve filled with mysterious memories.
Julian had finally seen it then. Though the night he had used many of the spells Dumbledore had taught him in order to covertly enter the office without detection, Santi had popped into existence the second Julian had aimed his wand at the pensieve.
"Don't even attempt it," had bit out Santi, angered, alarmed, and panting, as if he had barely made it in time in order to stop him, from wherever Santi went when he wasn't with Julian. "You don't have the skill or power to break the wards around it without Grindelwald finding out. Let it be."
Julian had shot him an annoyed look at that. The gossip about the Dark Lord's pensieve was the one rumor he had informed Dumbledore about and of course that Dumbledore's immediate order was to find out what memories it contained.
"Dumbledore wants to know," Julian had finally interjected tiredly.
"I bet he does," Santi had remarked wryly. He gestured at the pensieve, as he added coolly, "Those are the memories that Sybilla Spyros allowed Grindelwald to wrench from her mind after he had gouged her eyes out to turn her into an Oracle. They are the remains of the threads of recollections that weren't savaged by the poison she took to destroy her own mind. They are the things she wanted Grindelwald to know about so that he would act according to her plans. And they are precisely what I never want Dumbledore to know about."
Julian had stared at him, mouth partly hanging open before he snapped it shut, and breathed out, as he remembered her from so long ago, "Sybilla Spyros…" He had shaken his head slowly, before he inquired with deep curiosity, "What do the memories show?"
"Much," had retorted Santi tersely. "And I'll tell you soon, but not yet."
Julian had simply nodded, reconstructed the Dark Lord's wards around the office, and gone back to his quarters, knowing that being patient with Santi always bore the desired results.
The other piece of gossip among the ranks that had also proven to be true was the presence of Anacleto Armonios as a guest of the Dark Lord. Indeed, the infamous creator of the Time-Turner, former Spanish Unspeakable being hunted down around the world by Aurors of several countries, was living right there, across the corridor from Grindelwald's office.
Seeing the man with his own eyes, having confirmation that the rumors were true, had left Julian gobsmacked, wondering what the Dark Lord could possibly want from a wizard with such a despicable reputation.
Furthermore, Santi's reaction had left him even more flabbergasted.
"Not a word about Armonios to Dumbledore either," Santi had warned him sharply, spitting out the former Unspeakable's surname as if it was the vilest thing, deep-rooted contempt and hatred clear in his voice.
Never had Julian heard Santi speak about someone in such violent tones, and he had only been able to stare at Santi as his eyebrows shot upwards with disconcert.
The one thing he had written to Dumbledore about was the very same artifact that the Dark Lord himself had proudly shown to him.
The Globe occupied a whole vast corner of Grindelwald's office, and as Julian gazed at the innumerable colorful flames brightly glowing and dotting it, and as Gellert explained to him its function and how it worked, the last surviving glimmer of hope that Julian had been holding had crumbled.
Up until that day, he had still considered the slight possibility that Santi could have been wrong, that perhaps there was truly a way out for him, that perhaps Dumbledore could uphold his end of the bargain and help him escape with Laurent once Julian freed the Jewish prisoners of Nurmengard.
However, in the following days, as he finally found a book in Gellert's library with detailed information about The Globe – 'Obscure and Forgotten Dark Lords and their Inventions' - and when he had read about it and realized he had no way of destroying it, he had finally known that Santi had been right all along, and that he must have been referring to The Globe itself when he had warned Julian so long ago that wherever he fled to, his father and Grindelwald would find him.
Furthermore, he had even gone as far as giving Dumbledore the book title, to see if the wizard could discover something from it that Julian might have overlooked. Dumbledore's response had been grim: they indeed had the book in Hogwarts' Restricted Section but after reading it, he saw no way in which Julian could disable The Globe. The message was clear; Dumbledore himself was powerful enough to do so, if he was in its presence, but not Julian.
To Julian, it felt as if the last door of his cage had been irredeemably slammed shut. Moreover, the news of the existence of such an artifact as The Globe had certainly rattled Dumbledore. The wizard had wanted to know if there was anything that might lead Julian to believe Grindelwald had created any of the other inventions mentioned in other chapters of the book.
Not really knowing what Dumbledore had been inkling at so worriedly, and too despondent and depressed, Julian had merely flipped through the book with little interest, seeing nothing of notice and thus replying to the wizard in the negative.
Casting aside such dour recollections, Julian stared back at the stack of parchments, plopping down on his chair as he tiredly rubbed his face.
At last, he muttered under his breath, "I can hardly believe it." He shot Santi a quizzical glance, as he added, "How much does Dumbledore know about this?"
"He can only know what is common knowledge, what can be found in textbooks regarding the subject."
"Very little, then," mused Julian pensively. "In History of Magic they only told us very briefly the story of how the muggle Jews in Ancient Egypt cherished the muggleborns born in their midst, thinking of them as gifts sent to them by their God. How with their help, they managed to break free from slavery and escape."
He then gestured briskly at Ulrich Von Krauss's research. "But the books certainly didn't say anything about how the legend of the Vessel is fact and not just some nonsensical muggle myth. Certainly didn't say that it was really used back then and what for, and again much later in 1692 for the second and last time in history!"
Julian paused to pierce Santi with wide eyes, as he breathed out haggardly, "Are you absolutely sure that all of Von Krauss's speculations are correct?"
"Yes," replied Santi shortly.
Julian didn't question it, and quickly, he flipped through the parchments until he reached the large drawing of a beautiful, complex, intricate symbol he had studied before.
Tapping it with a finger, he muttered under his breath, "Beauxbatons' textbooks didn't say anything about these Guardians, either - descendants from those muggle Jews of Ancient Egypt, who have protected their wizards and witches throughout time as they moved from country to country…"
Julian trailed off, a realization suddenly striking him, and he breathed out, "This is why Gellert makes his followers take both muggle and wizarding Jews, whole families in fact, and why they are stripped naked the moment they are taken to the cells, every inch of their bodies searched for a 'mark'." He gestured adamantly at the picture. "It's this symbol they are unknowingly looking for, because Gellert wants to find one of these Guardians, because he wants to find and use the Vessel."
He yanked out the very last parchment, and flattened it on top of the desk, as he added anxiously, "And look what Von Krauss's conclusions are. In the two times the Vessel was used, its power was never fully unleashed. The first time, it was used correctly, of course, since the Jews themselves created the artifact. They did everything right. The most powerful wizard among them willingly offered himself up –who, according to Von Krauss, was also the only Lord-level wizard of those times. He made the three required sacrifices to fuel the Vessel: magic, life, and body. But the Jews didn't need the Vessel to be fully powered, so they didn't let the sacrifices compound with each other and grow within the artifact for too long. They were cautious and used it just a few months later."
Julian turned over the parchment and pointed at the next paragraph. "The second time, in 1692, the Jews heard about the intentions of the International Confederation of Wizards, how they were looking for powerful magical artifacts to protect wizarding kind from the crazed, religious muggles rampaging around the world with their witch hunts. The Guardians contacted the Confederation, revealed the existence of the Vessel and offered the use of it, with the caveat that Jews, both muggle and wizarding, would be wholly spared from the effects of it."
Pausing to click his tongue scornfully, he then added, "The Confederation made a complete mess of it. Too scared of the muggles and their sheer numbers, they didn't follow all instructions. Allegedly, there was no Lord-level wizard or witch in existence at the time, and the Confederation didn't dare wait for one. They chose three wizards, each to give one of the sacrifices into the Vessel. Obviously, the power unleashed from the Vessel was too feeble, it didn't fully work. So the Confederation had no other resort than to come up with the Statute of Secrecy, just laws that are hardly effective…"
He trailed off, shaking his head bemusedly. He had always wondered why the Jews were the only ones exempted from the Statute of Secrecy. Most believed it had been an oversight.
Even Grindelwald, the few times the wizard had been confronted about the issue by other Ministers of Magic, used the excuse that it wasn't legal for the Jews to not be bounded by those laws as a reason to justify why he was 'imprisoning' Jews in his country.
Yet Grindelwald knew the truth, just as Julian did right then. It was owed to the Jews since they had allowed the use of the Vessel. That it hadn't gone as expected had been the fault of the International Confederation of Wizards, yet they still had to uphold their end of the deal by at least excluding the Jews from the Statute of Secrecy.
Julian skewered Santi with his gaze, as he said slowly, "If they had done as the Jews instructed and the Vessel had fully worked, the solution would have been magical. It would have changed everything. Wizarding kind would have owed the Jews much."
The realization struck him hard. The Jews had wanted to help.
The day he had truly decided to aid Dumbledore was the day he saw the Jews in their cells in the dungeons of Nurmengard. It was more out of pity for them, than real conviction, that he had chosen to become Dumbledore's spy.
His feelings for them changed into admiration as months passed and the prisoners remained staunch in their silence, no matter the torture they were subjected to, no matter how their other like-wise imprisoned relatives –fathers, grandparents, siblings or children- were tortured or killed in front of them. None of them ever spoke a word.
Admittedly, there were those who screamed in crazed terror, but those never lasted long; those were just muggle Jews who had been caught up in it and truly didn't know anything. The others, however, the survivors, were wizards – either that, or there were truly Guardians amongst them. And yet, so far, none of them had given any indication that they knew anything about the matter. Thus far, Grindelwald had been thoroughly unsuccessful in that regard.
"Very true, wizarding kind would have owed them much," interjected Santi placidly, before he eyed him closely with a grave expression on his face. "Yet you can see the danger in it, can you?"
"Of course I do!" replied Julian vehemently. "Even in 1692, the Guardians of the Vessel didn't intend for it to be used to its full power – their instructions to the Confederation of Wizards ensured that it wouldn't."
His sky blue eyes flickered back to the last of Ulrich Von Krauss' conclusions, and he said anxiously, "He believed that if the Vessel was fully powered, with the three sacrifices coming from one individual with magical levels of a Lord, leaving the magic of the sacrifices to interact with each other, compounding and exponentially growing within the Vessel for at least five decades, the power then unleashed would be such that it would affect the whole muggle populace of the world." He found the sentence that had made his insides twist and recoil with sheer horror and fear, to then whisper shakily, "The effects of it, he termed them the Winds of-"
He chocked, unable to say the words, and frantically shook his head. "Gellert cannot possibly think he can control the repercussions of this! It's sheer lunacy!"
Santi quirked an eyebrow at him, as he said loftily, "And here I've often heard you say that you didn't care about the common good."
Julian shot him a hard look. "I care about the fate of the people I love. Laurent, for starters." He gestured angrily at Ulrich Von Krauss' research, and snapped, "If Gellert uses the Vessel as Von Krauss suggests, Laurent will one day wake up to find himself living in a devastated world – that's why I care!"
In the next second, he frowned at the parchments as he muttered, "Yet he needs a sacrifice. Gellert is certainly not planning on being it." Julian's head jerked upwards, staring at Santi as he breathed out, "Dumbledore."
"It won't be Dumbledore," retorted Santi calmly.
"What do you mean?" demanded Julian sternly. "If the rumors about his magical prowess are to be believed, he's the only other Lord-level wizard out there, besides Gellert himself."
"There are others."
"What others?" Julian frowned at him. "Who is he going to use?"
"You don't need to concern yourself about this," said Santi, waving a hand dismissively.
Rising to his feet, feeling an ominous, apprehensive coil twisting his insides, Julian scowled at him and bit out impatiently, "Who is he going to use as the sacrifice, Santi?"
But Santi wouldn't answer, and Julian was only told not to reveal Ulrich Von Krauss' research to Dumbledore.
Julian hadn't needed the warning. He was no fool and he trusted Dumbledore as far as he could throw him. By then, he knew how Dumbledore's mind worked, and if the old man was told about the Vessel and Gellert's plans for it, Dumbledore would have no other choice but to act on the information, knowing that Gellert would realize who had leaked it to him.
It was the type of hard decisions that a wizard in Dumbledore's position had to make: to sacrifice an individual for the sake of the cause and common good. However, Julian wasn't going to give the old man any reasons to blow his cover and thus sacrifice him. Julian was determined to live as long as possible.
Nevertheless, in the following day, Julian discovered why Gellert had given him such information.
Grindelwald had indulgently smiled at him as Julian had no other choice but to voice admiration for Ulrich Von Krauss' discoveries and plans, making the Dark Lord believe that he was fascinated by the whole matter and was breathless with anticipation to see the Vessel finally being used to its full capacity.
"Now you know what to look for," Gellert had said to him, his hawk-like eyes glinting as Julian returned Von Krauss' research to him.
Indeed, given the lack of results in the torture of Nurmengard's Jewish prisoners for years, the Dark Lord had had no other choice but to entrust someone with the knowledge of what he was looking for. It was thus that Julian had been chosen and now knew that the mark he had to look for on the prisoners' bodies was actually the symbol of the Guardians that Ulrich Von Krauss had depicted.
Julian had accepted his new mission with an enthusiastic nod of the head, yet his actions had been vastly different.
For two years, given that he was expected to break out the prisoners of Nurmengard, he had carefully established a friendship with the guards of the dungeons. He knew about their lives, he inquired after their children, spouses, girlfriends and boyfriends, he brought them bottles of Firewhiskey, played wizarding cards with them, drank and teased and taunted, and was soon welcomed and treated as one of the bunch.
However, cautious to maintain his cover, he had never interacted with the prisoners other than to torture them, keeping his abhorrence and distaste to himself.
That night, at last, he decided to make his first overture towards them, especially given what he knew about them from Von Krauss' research. A sense of admiration, duty, sorrow, and mercy was what compelled him to do it.
He slipped out of Gellert's bed and made his way to the dungeons. Greeting the guards, trading some jokes, and finally being patted on the back and told to "have fun with 'em", Julian acted as if he was going to have a night round of blood sport and was left to his own devices.
As soon as he entered the corridor holding the prison cells, he waved his wand and cast a silencing spell at the entrance.
The sight of the slumbering prisoners was horrific, the stench unbearable, the gloom, dankness, and grimness, suffocating. Yet, in the middle of the corridor, he sat on the cold stone floors, crossed-legged, and took out his beautiful, silver magical flute.
He heaved a deep breath, brought his lips to it, and played. He chose the most uplifting, hope-bringing, soothing, cradling song of his repertoire, his fingers flying across the keyholes, producing the trill of a phoenix to rise from his flute, heightened and meshed with the heavenly, enthralling voice of sirens.
He suddenly felt like one of those famous SongSorcerers who entranced their audience and moved them like the waves of a tide, as the prisoners stirred and their eyes cracked open.
It was a wondrous, powerful thing, Music, he had always known, but never had he felt more deeply touched as right then, as he saw life being suffused back into dull eyes that began to stare at him, as skeletal chests heaved and released deep sighs of peace, as dry lips cracked, bled, and stretched to form placid smiles on sunken, haunted faces.
It was a macabre spectacle, like gaunt puppets slowly coming to life, yet it made joy burst and course through his body.
In many faces, he saw awe, shock, or wonder, as they gazed at him. In others, he saw a glint of recognition or a sparkle of sudden frantic hope.
Some stirred and dragged themselves to be closer to him through the bars of their cells, their eyes riveted on him, drinking him in.
Yet when one of them seemed to be about to speak to him, he heard one other of them say sharply in a hoarse voice, "Not yet!"
Julian stilled and stopped playing at that, and attempted to find the one who had spoken, but none of them said another word.
Frowning, he attempted to explain the situation. He revealed who he was and what his intention would soon be. They all gazed at him but otherwise remained silent.
Similar things happened when he went to the other levels of the dungeons – seven in total, when once there had only been three.
It wasn't until he reached the first subfloor, where the prisoners who had been there the longest were held, that something different happened.
Their reaction to his playing had been the same, however, when he started to explain who he was, he was shortly interrupted.
"We know who you are," said a voice coarse from lack of use, sounding like the crackling of old leaves. "You have tortured us before."
Quickly standing up to find the one who had spoken, Julian reached their cell, seeing an old man slowly making signs with his skeletal hands. A man in his forties was lying next to him, his gaze focused on the old man's hands, while two children, with bellies bulging out from starvation, were slumped against the man's sides, their drowsy, sunken eyes gazing back at Julian with reanimated curiosity.
"Yes, I did, because I had to," said Julian quickly, his tone of voice entreating. "But it's finally come the time for me to tell you that I mean no harm to you. I'm here to-"
"We know. He will bring pain and he will sing to you with the voice of hope, of sirens and phoenixes," said the man in his forties, as if repeating a long ago memorized litany, his gaze flying from the old man's gesturing hands to flicker from Julian's face to the flute. "You're the spy of the Companion of the Phoenix."
Julian stared at him, bemused. There was only one wizard he could possibly think of as being 'the companion of a phoenix', thus he nodded, as he said quietly, "Yes. I'm working for Albus Dumbledore. I'm here on his behest-"
"No. You're here because you're meant to be here," interjected the man hoarsely, his eyes leaving him to gaze again at the old man who had started making signs with his hands once more.
The man nodded, before he turned to Julian again. "I am Aaron." He slowly lifted a hand, his face straining with effort, as he gestured at the old man by his side. "He is my grandfather, Abel Boschkowitz. He does not speak. He tore out his own tongue a long time ago. I am his voice."
Julian stared at them, horrified. "Why did he tear out his-"
"He wants you to know," interrupted Aaron, looking weary, his voice starting to sound more haggard and hollow. "Observe."
It happened as if in slow motion. The old man slowly parted open the top of his prison garbs, showing a skeletal chest. Many of the other prisoners that had been intently gazing at them, clutching bars to slowly rise to their feet or dragging themselves across their cells to be at an angle in which to look at them, did the same. And as if one, following the old man's lead, they all touched their chests at the same time.
It was a breathtaking sight in the midst of the gloom and darkness of the dungeons. They shone. Many chests suddenly glowed with an intricate symbol spanning across the entirety of their torsos, the light silvery white.
"The Guardians," Julian breathed out in understanding as he recognized the symbol from Ulrich Von Krauss' depiction.
They were all touching their chests, but just some had the glowing mark. Nevertheless, there were more than he had dreamed possible. Those of the mark were the Guardians, the muggle Jews who kept the secret of their 'treasure', amongst other things. The rest who were touching their chests but didn't glow with the symbol could only be those the Guardians protected: Jewish wizards and witches.
Julian's gaze swiveled back to the mute old man. "And you're their leader."
Abel Boschkowitz nodded and started to make signs with his hands once more.
"My grandfather," began Aaron slowly, his eyes riveted on the old man's hands as he translated, "says you must come here, to play for us, for as many nights as you can. Only then, one day, we will speak to you again. For now, we must wait."
"Wait for what?" said Julian, frowning with uncertainty.
Aaron didn't reply. The gaunt man rested back against the wall of their cell and closed his eyes with exhaustion, as the two children by his side burrowed themselves against him, peering up at Julian as they blinked slowly.
Feeling half triumphant and excited, half bewildered and bemused, Julian left them in peace, though he did as asked and visited all of the floors as often as he could manage to slip from Gellert's bed in the middle of the night without being detected. From hence forward, he found a new purpose for his flute-playing: he gave them hope, he knew well.
However, it was when the Dark Lord finally made his move and conquered Austria that many things changed for Julian.
He had taken painstaking care to inform Dumbledore about all the details regarding Gellert's plots and strategies – and quite a brilliant plan they conformed.
The Nazis occupied the country under feeble excuses, the muggle soldiers' food supplies were doused with Pepper-Up and Strengthening Potions to make them indefatigable, and mind-altering potions were used on the water supplies of muggle cities so that when the citizens 'legally' voted for the annexation of their country to Germany, ninety-nine percent voted in favor.
Meanwhile, Gellert's Haupte Kommandanten had several Nazi Commanders under the Imperius Curse so that they led their divisions of soldiers to surround a building – which was, unbeknownst to them, the Austrian Ministry of Magic.
Sieged by muggle soldiers that vastly outnumbered them, the Ministry wizards knew they had limited options when Gellert and his followers broke into the Ministry. Most of them swiftly surrendered and Gellert was quick to kill the Minister.
Julian had been directly involved as well, since he was expected to prove his mettle in battle. He couldn't disappoint.
He had been given the leadership of the squad of followers that had to deal with the Auror Department – much to Dumbledore's satisfaction, since the old man had required one thing from him.
It had shocked and vastly disappointed him when Dumbledore had made clear in his missives that he wasn't going to appear on the day of the conquest in order to fight against Gellert. Dumbledore wasn't even going to send Order members to aid the Ministry. Instead, Dumbledore needed to allow it to happen, and required proof of how potions were being illegally used on muggles, on both citizens and the Nazi soldiers.
Julian understood Dumbledore's reasoning and tough decision –it was clear that the Austrian case was going to be used as an example, to convince as many as possible that Grindelwald was a Dark Lord- yet he had still hoped that Dumbledore would directly take a hand in matters and halt the Dark Lord once and for all. It would have ended Julian's turmoil.
But no, besides information and evidence, Dumbledore required one thing from Julian: that he saved the sister of Faustus Prewett, the Head of International Magical Cooperation in England, a wizard whom Dumbledore was subtly courting to his side.
Julian had been sent a picture of the woman and her husband, an Auror in the Austrian Ministry. If it didn't cast suspicion on him, Julian was to save them both. Yet, even then, he had known that if they died, it would serve Dumbledore's purpose as well. Faustus Prewett would not side with the Dark Lord if the man's actions cost him his sister.
It was thus, that when he fought against those Aurors who refused to surrender, he had personally killed Nettie Prewett's husband without a second thought, only showing what mercy he could by dispatching him quickly.
With skills he had displayed in the European Dueling Championship having been further honed with nearly three years of direct tutelage from the Dark Lord, Julian had performed excellently, being thoroughly unmatched.
Furthermore, as much as he despised torturing helpless prisoners, he had discovered that dueling against armed, qualified opponents in the heat of battle was a much different experience that he vastly enjoyed.
His squad and he were left to carry on the 'clean-up stage': that was, vanishing the dead bodies, and with information gathered from the Ministry's own personnel records, going to the homes of those Ministry officials who had fought against them and died. Their families would be taken as prisoners, so that those who surrendered and survived would know the punishment that befell the others, even if they could never speak of it.
Indeed, the rest of the followers went around forcing Unbreakable Vows from those who had surrendered, so that the truth of what had happened never came to light.
The world would believe that the Austrian Minister of Magic had died of some illness, that some Ministry workers had been sacked or willingly resigned for some reason or other, which would explain their absence, and the disappearance of their families would be left as a mystery for quite some time.
Moreover, presented with the fact that their muggle counterparts had voted to become annexed to Germany, the story was that the Austrian Ministry had decided to do likewise, in order to not have a fragmented country.
It was thus that Grindelwald went from being the German Minister of Magic to the Austrian as well, with conjoined title and position, by 'legal means'.
Grindelwald's intricate, masterful plan of conquest worked without a hitch, only Dumbledore knowing the truth behind it due to Julian's information.
Hence, Julian ended his duty by visiting the last of the homes of those who had died at the Ministry. He hadn't expected what he had found in Nettie Prewett's home: she had been alone, yet her robes displayed such a huge, protruding belly that it was clear she was expecting a baby at any given moment.
Julian had been taken aback. Dumbledore certainly hadn't mentioned her circumstances; probably hadn't known himself. It was then when he had decided he would do his best to free her at some point. Nevertheless, at the time being, he could do nothing if not magically bind her and take her back to Nurmengard with all the rest.
If he had known beforehand what her fate would be, he would have killed her on the spot and considered it a great mercy.
However, he hadn't expected the next stage of Gellert's plan or what the festivities after the triumphant conquest of Austria would entail.
All of the Dark Lord's ranks gathered that night to celebrate the victory, at a vast clearing in the forest that surrounded Nurmengard Tower.
In impeccable uniform and robes, Julian stood amongst the Haupte Kommandanten, besides his father, while Gellert, in front of them, gave a grandiose speech that ensnared his ranks.
The captured families brought from Austria were grouped together, standing in the middle of the clearing, bounded and surrounded, their expressions terrified.
It was when he caught sight of the prisoners of the dungeons being led into the clearing, that Julian felt a frisson of apprehension and misgivings. The Jews were being formed into lines, facing the Austrian prisoners, as if to stand as witnesses.
Glancing around, Julian discovered that the ranks looked clueless, except the Haupte Kommandanten, who were staring forward with expressions of awe, wonder, and great anticipation.
Suddenly, a dome-like shield encompassed the Austrian families, and Gellert raised his wand in the air as he started enchanting words in a language wholly unknown to Julian.
Abruptly, he felt a powerful surge of magic bursting out from Gellert's wand -so obscure, potent, and dark as he had never felt before- and black rays shot out to strike each of the Austrian prisoners.
Julian turned to his father, bewildered. "What-"
"Necromancy," whispered Egon Erlichmann sharply, his gaze riveted on the spectacle. "The Dark Lord is creating a new breed of Inferi."
"Inferi!" choked out Julian through a suddenly dry throat, to then quickly grasp his father's arm with frantic urgency. "There's a pregnant woman among them, Father!"
"Hush! It's of little importance-"
"She's a pureblood witch!" said Julian frenziedly.
Egon Erlichmann shot his son a harsh, reprimanding look, grabbing him tightly by the arm to keep him in place. "The Dark Lord would not care about the matter. The process cannot be disrupted for such an insignificant issue."
For a second, Julian stared at him with utter incredulity, before he violently shook him off and leapt towards Grindelwald, ignoring his father's shout.
Screams suddenly pierced the air and Julian skidded to a halt, right next to Gellert, his eyes wide as he fixedly stared forward. It was too late.
The Austrians' skins were rippling, their backs arching, their eyes suddenly becoming dull, empty and soulless, as teeth sharpened, fingernails became claws, bodies turned cadaveric, the flesh becoming rotten and greyish, and clumps of hair fell from heads.
There was no spark of intelligence in the new Inferi but some sort of primal, animalistic awareness, as they growled and savagely threw themselves against the dome-like shield of magic that kept them separated from Grindelwald's followers, as if they wanted nothing more than to attack and tear apart. They didn't move slowly, as Julian had read that Inferi did, but with beastly strength and quickness.
With a sense of otherworldly, nightmarish detachment from reality, he saw how the followers who had been guarding the Jews selected some of them. He even caught sight of Abel and Aaron Boschkowitz, with the little boy and girl he had assumed were Aaron's children. They weren't grabbed, but seven others were, to be dragged and then unceremoniously thrown through the dome-like magical shield that caged the Inferi.
The Inferi bore down on them like a pack of ravenous animals, clawing, tearing apart, chewing, killing, growling and feasting, whilst the guards held back the other Jews, some of whom were crying out in shock and horror.
Suddenly, a piercing shriek resounded across the clearing. It wasn't a scream, but a hollow, hair-splitting, inhuman sound. It came from the Inferi who had once been Nettie Prewett. Robes that had become slashed and torn as she had fought with the others of her kind to reach the humans that had been served as food, now revealed an immense greyish belly that was rippling as she arched on the ground while the sound kept coming from her throat.
Something was clawing its way out from her, and in the next instant, it tore out from her belly and broke free. Several of Grindelwald's followers loudly gasped. It was a monster of a baby, with claws, jagged teeth, and rotten flesh. It crawled and then sped forward as fast as a flash, leaving mother behind to attack one of the corpses and sink its teeth to devour with savage hunger.
The once Nettie Prewett was soon on its feet again, belly ravaged, nothing but flaps of skin and hanging entrails, as it showed no awareness of its baby and just turned around to leap at another corpse.
The sight of it all was too much. Julian became dizzy, faint, and disoriented. He suddenly swayed where he stood and then landed on hands and knees, hacking, crying and retching, and he couldn't stop.
The horror of it, the piercing, gut-wrenching guilt and helplessness he felt, the very nightmarish, gruesome images, were forever branded in his skull.
"Get up!" he heard his father's voice say furiously, as a boot kicked one of his legs. "You're embarrassing the family – get a hold of yourself!"
"Julian is not a hardened follower as you are, Egon," said a voice in chiding tones. "You should show some understanding and compassion to your son."
Suddenly, he felt several spells cast on him, and Julian's mouth became freshened and his stomach settled itself.
Still on hands and knees, he glanced up through blurry, watery eyes to see Gellert gazing at him with a sympathetic expression on his face.
The Dark Lord offered him a hand, and Julian hesitantly took it. He was helped up and then taken by the elbow, Gellert holding him up in a supportive way as he glanced at the monstrous, baby-like creature that kept feasting.
"A pureblood baby, from what I overheard you say to your father," said Grindelwald, a moue of discontent twisting his lips. "A pity."
With a flick of his wand, the Dark Lord cast the Killing Curse at it, and Julian quickly turned his face away from the sight, to then stare at the wizard.
"The road to triumph is not an easy one," said Grindelwald, gesturing at the Inferi. "But there is no dishonor in feeling revulsion." Casting a reprimanding, dark look at Egon Erlichmann, he then gazed back at Julian, his expression softening. "With time, you'll become hardened to such unpalatable sights." His voice lowered to a mere, intimate murmur, as he added, "Let me comfort you tonight, mein Edelstein. You deserve as much. I've been told you dueled superbly in the Ministry."
Without waiting for a reply, Julian was led away by Grindelwald after the wizard gave some curt, short instructions to his ranks regarding the Inferi, who were to be kept in a section of the forest, for later use.
Later that night, when Julian slipped from Gellert's bed and escaped to his own quarters, as he turned on the shower, he didn't rub himself clean and raw as he once did during the first months of torment and intimacy with Gellert.
Instead, as warm water trickled down his back, he softly touched love-bites, sighing and closing his eyes, remembering the sweet, soothing nothings whispered into his ears, the comforting arms gently embracing him, the tender caresses and touches, the slow love-making as he had held unto Gellert as if he was a lifeline.
He didn't react when he felt a presence in his bathroom and the press of eyes gazing at him.
"I'm losing myself," Julian muttered as he rested his forehead against the tiles. And he finally admitted to himself and said out loud the feelings that had been warring within him, "Despite everything, even what happened tonight, I'm starting to love him."
"There's no happy ending possible for you and Grindelwald."
Julian opened his eyes, and through the sheet of pouring water, he shot Santi a dour look. "I know that. It's just that- " He swallowed thickly, before he attempted to speak again, his voice a dejected whisper, "I don't know if I can do it anymore. To hurt someone I care about. To betray him-"
"You are a spy," pointed out Santi coolly. "To betray is what you do. You've known that from the start."
With all sense of modesty around Santi having been lost a long time ago, Julian angrily turned off the water and stepped out, trickles of drops trailing down his naked body as he glared and remarked tartly, "You're a callous bastard when you speak so bluntly."
"I've never lied to you." Santi quirked an eyebrow at him. "I'm not going to start now in order to soothe your feelings."
Julian scowled sourly as he wrapped a towel around his waist, making way to his bedroom as Santi floated and trailed after him.
"You have to distance yourself from him, in your mind."
At that, Julian shot him an incredulous look as he plopped down on his bed. Letting out a humorless bark of laughter he then said acidly, "And pray tell, how do I do that?"
Santi gazed at him with a pensive, considering expression on his face, which soon turned calculating, before he said slowly, "Perhaps I should reveal to you that you'll know love with someone else, before you die. Perhaps knowing that helps?"
Taken aback, Julian stared at him. "What on earth do you mean?"
"She'll be of much help to you," said Santi, now smiling warmly. "She'll give you what you need, and love you greatly." He paused, to then add hesitantly, "And you'll come to love her too, in a strange sort of way, I believe."
"She?" Julian gaped at him before he scoffed. "In case you hadn't noticed by now, my inclinations don't lean towards the female persuasion."
Unconcernedly shrugging his shoulders, Santi took a seat at an armchair as he made his body turn solid. "It will not matter. You'll be drawn to her. You'll meet her again soon."
"Again? So I already know her?" Julian deeply frowned at him, unable to imagine whom it could possibly be. Crossing paths with one of the girls from Beauxbatons didn't seem likely.
Casting such thoughts aside, Julian shook his head disparagingly as he groused curtly, "I don't want a relationship with anyone else. I betrayed Laurent by being with Gellert. And now you're telling me I'll betray Gellert by being with a witch on the side? No."
"It doesn't matter what you say," remarked Santi contently. "It will happen all the same. She'll be important." His lips quirked upwards as he pinned Julian with a fixed stare. "Harry will know about you through her."
"Harry?" Julian blinked. "Your Harry. My Harry. Our Harry?"
"Yes," replied Santi placidly.
Julian felt an odd sense of joy at the idea, his expression relaxing as his lips tilted into a soft smile.
Santi gazed at him knowingly, looking satisfied with himself.
After that, as impossible and troubling as thoughts about having a secret affair with a witch were, Julian didn't press to know more about the matter.
It hadn't served the purpose Santi had surely intended. No sense of detachment grew in him after knowing Gellert wouldn't be his last lover; that apparently he would love someone else, that hopefully by then, feelings for Gellert would not be an issue, since he couldn't afford it.
On the opposite, it distressed him. Betraying the ones he loved by being with others was a horrible sensation.
Even after all his time with Gellert, in some guarded corner of his heart he still held his love for Laurent, untouched and untainted, guarded zealously as a precious thing, and yet it would still conflict him.
Much to Santi's aggravation, Julian had not cut ties with Laurent as he had once promised. He still received letters weekly, coveting and cherishing every last word from Laurent, whilst replying and playing along, writing about their plans for the future.
Such a connection had been his lifeline in the first six months of intimacy with Gellert when he had been Dumbledore's replacement and a whipping boy in bed. And then, even after the discovery of The Globe, when he had known there was no hope left for him, he had still written back to Laurent, willfully deluding them both, making plans like glorious dreams of love and freedom that would never come to happen.
Santi said he was selfish and cruel by stringing Laurent along and giving him hope.
But Julian simply couldn't let go. It sustained him, the lies he wrote and the fantasy world they created.