A mild twinge in Oliver's demeanor led the aurors to think he was somewhat disappointed in his friend's behaviour. However, he instantly recovered, leading Harry and Ron over to and around the couch where the three of them took a seat- Oliver in a chair to the left of Gerald and the two guests sat upon the loveseat facing the platinum haired man.

As they sat, Gerald threw his legs off of the couch, placing his feet on the floor in front of him as to complete his move from laying to sitting. He finished it off by crossing his legs, one perfectly overlapping the other. Harry noticed that the man's feet were bare with toenails painted black to match his hands. His upper body lounged comfortably with either hand seeming to circle around invisible people to each side. His form-fitted black shirt and slim black pants furthered the feeling of effeminacy about him. Even as Oliver slid his hand under his long hair and pushed it behind his ear, he came off more masculine than his short-haired counterpart.

"Gerald Davis," Harry began, "I'm sure you have an idea of why we wanted to see you," he paused to allow for the man to inform them of what he knew.

"I do," the smirk on Gerald's face grew larger.

After a brief pause without further elaboration on his part, Harry opened his mouth again, but was interrupted by a sigh from Oliver who growled his friend's name under his breath. Gerald's eyes shot over to the man who gave no other gestures. He removed his arms from around his invisible company, putting hands in his lap before adding to his initial reply.

"I figure MACUSA has spoken to you after coming to the conclusion of my leaving America," he said, his eyes darting back to Oliver who lifted his hand and gave him the 'carry on' signal. "They no doubt informed you of my prior association with Voldemort and you're here to poke around," he finished, reclaiming his smirk and earning a frustrated sigh from Oliver.

"More or less," Harry affirmed as he and Ron took notice of the odd dynamic between the two other wizards. Gerald, several decade Oliver's elder, retained a playful and mildly disinterested attitude while Oliver appeared extremely reserved and regulated, giving his friend reminders to certain social cues.

"Why did you leave America?" Ron asked.

Gerald half-coughed, half-laughed at the question, turning his head to Oliver and smiling.

"Because of me," the long-haired wizard admitted, "Gerald came here with me as a favor to me. I feared for his safety in the US." He locked eyes on the aurors, "Through no fault of his own, Gerald has a bad reputation with MACUSA...one based simply on the circumstance of his birth." He paused, letting the statement sink in to his guests' minds.

Harry and Ron kept their gazes and their postures solemn, giving no signs of agreement or protest even though they did also feel that a person shouldn't be judged solely upon who they were born to. Harry glanced away long enough to see that Gerald's smile had weakened. It was still there, but had fallen from a beam to a weak grin. His eyes were still hard upon his friend.

"They never even tried to hide this prejudice," Oliver continued, his gaze lessening, "I felt that he would be more fairly treated here under the Ministry of Magic. They have a history of understanding and forgiveness as much as MACUSA has one of a polar opposite," he finished.

Harry nodded, looking from Oliver to Gerald, "We intend on nothing other than being fair."

Gerald's head was tilted to face somewhere between his friend and Harry, but his eyes narrowed at Harry when he deliberately aimed the last statement at him. The look was one of obvious distrust and Harry could feel it. He wanted to set Gerald at ease so knowing his next question for the man made him feel guilty as if those last words had been untruthful. But he couldn't get away from what he must say.

"I have to ask," Harry started, "Why did you lie about practicing magic?"

Gerald uncrossed his legs and turned his head fully toward Harry, "I was unsure of how the knowledge would be received..." his head twitched slightly, eyes never leaving Harry's, "especially considering it would be followed with the question of how I had learned."

"You mean how Voldemort had taught you," Harry pushed.

"Yes..." Gerald's expression was emotionless yet the room could feel him becoming defensive.

Harry sat back in his seat, clearing his throat. He tried to relax his posture to appear as non-threatening to the wizard as much as possible, but either he was failing or it was too late to help Gerald's mood. Feeling the tension grow as the silence continued, Ron ducked in.

"Can you tell us more about how you met Voldemort?" He said, "And about the time you spent as, well, whatever you were to each other."

Gerald's chest heaved and it became obvious he was attempting to deep-breath to keep himself calm. "Yeah," he muttered through the middle of a sharp exhale, "I met Tom when he came to America not long after he graduated wizardry school himself. We were close in age. I was actually a year older," all eyes in the room had settled on Gerald who relaxed considerably after starting his story.

"I was outside the market and noticed a young man staring at me from across the street. At first I didn't think anything of it. I kept on with my errands, but continued to notice him at different times in different places watching me from a distance. Just before I left for home, I saw him again. I didn't know what he wanted, but didn't want some wacko following me home. So I went to confront him. However, my sight was blocked for a few seconds at one point and when it was clear again, I couldn't find him. I just went home.

"I still lived with my mother or rather she lived with me. I had a job and I took care of her. Before I went inside, I checked to make sure nobody was around. I didn't see the man so I walked inside to the kitchen where my mother was cooking. She had been waiting for me to get back with a few more supplies for her to finish making dinner.

"She asked me who my friend was." Gerald paused. Harry thought he caught a glimpse of a grin shadow the mysterious wizard's face, but he couldn't tell for certain. "He had apparated behind me right before I closed the door and had followed me inside. He smiled and bowed to her, introducing himself as Tom Riddle. I didn't want to worry her, so I played along with him.

"He detailed our meeting in town saying I had helped him with finding the market and had offered for him to join in at dinner. Conversation in my mother's presence had been mostly vague and of course I didn't know what of the things Tom shared were true and which were pretty lies. After the meal, I saw him out and that's when I called his bluff. I grabbed his collar and pushed him against the wall, demanding to know who he was and what he was doing. He just grinned at me and said, 'I already told you. My name is Tom Riddle. I'm only looking for companions.' I asked why he put on such a show. What he wanted with me personally... 'Your companionship' he said."

Gerald stopped and ducked his head forward to scratch at the roots of the shortest parts of his hair. Oliver shifted in his seat, clearing his throat, but not speaking. His eyes were on his friend in silent support. He had heard this story before. Harry wondered if that had been the only other time Gerald had spoken it aloud.

"And you became his companion?" Ron prompted.

Gerald nodded, "I let go of him. I had always been pretty much isolated in my life and I found myself very curious of him. He pulled out his wand and used it to turn the porch lights off and on and then to move various items around us. It was my first experience with magic. It was simple yet astounding," Gerald looked up at Ron and Harry. "After that, yes, we were companions. He taught me about magic and how to use it."

"Did your mother know all this was going on?" Harry asked.

Gerald shook his head, "Not for another year. Not until Tom told me who my father was...He said...he had originally told me that when he saw me at the market, he could sense I had magical blood, but...after that first year, he admitted knowing that Gellert Grindelwald had a son and he had deliberately sought me out. He said he had never said it before because he didn't want to throw too much on me at once." Gerald shrugged, "Either way, it made me angry. I told my mother everything that same day."

"Were you angry with her too?"

"Yes," Gerald whispered the response. His energy fell still as he leaned forward, a hand reaching his face and cupping it.

Harry and Ron immediately knew by this behaviour that whatever happened next had been traumatic to him. Oliver shifted in his seat again. He seemed to want to get up and comfort Gerald but resisted for some reason. Perhaps for maintaining an image. Either his or his friend's. Either way, he stayed in his seat, words fighting to escape his mouth.

"What happened when you confronted her?" Harry asked in a soft, careful voice. It was already known that Gerald's mother was dead and that Gerald had an anger problem. It made Harry wonder if...

Gerald began shaking his head violently, his hand falling from his face as he stood up. Harry and Ron instinctively laid hands on their wands at the man's actions. Gerald took in a deep breath, his head ceasing movement and his stance becoming strong as he walked around the couch. Oliver's eyes were glancing from the aurors to his friend. He otherwise remained unmoved.

Gerald placed his hands on the back of the couch and leaned forward, his head hung with his eyes downward. He scoffed before raising his head and setting his gaze onto the aurors again. "I didn't mean to kill her," he said in a calm voice.

Oliver's eyes left Gerald then and became intent upon the aurors. Ron took hold of his wand, removing it from his robes. He didn't aim it directly at anyone and instead held it out loosely in front of him as he, too, stood, and faced both Gerald and Oliver. Both of them were looking at the redhead neither with menace nor with defensive posture.

"Where is your wand?" It was more of an order that left Harry's lips than a question. At this point in their conversation, he hadn't been surprised with Gerald's confession. He also didn't feel hatred or fear of the wizard. Not at that moment. He honestly even felt a tad of...pity for him.

Gerald and Oliver exchanged looks.

"I don't have one," Gerald told Harry.

"You killed your mother with your bare hands?" the words left Ron's mouth more harshly than intended.

Outer sadness left Gerald's face and he scowled, barking back, "No, I did not. I used the killing curse. But I don't have a wand."

"When did you stop carrying one?" Harry put in calmly before sending Ron a reprimanding glance.

"I've never carried one," Gerald had returned to being defensive though he was trying not to show it.

"Are you- are you saying that-"

Harry was interrupted by Oliver, "Gerald practices magic wandlessAC."