I seem to be running out of steam for the letters, and we are not even into the 50s yet. Perhaps it is a mistake having Albus 'ghost' Gellert. Any ideas how to continue?

Maybe Grindelwald should get prison fan-mail from someone other than his aunt?

1949

21 June 1949, Nurmengard

Dear Supreme Mugwump Sir

I quit!

The exploding fruitcakes are the last straw.

May we suggest that we bury the prisoner under a pile of rocks, or have a nice Dementor pay him a visit? Over the past few years, Gellert Grindelwald has proven himself an unrepentant, uncooperative, and generally ill-mannered captive beyond any hope of rehabilitation. Do you have any idea how hard it is not to find him attempting some form of escape or being a general nuisance? It is only because all of us guards swore on Troll's honour not to permanently maim or kill him that he is still partaking of the Austrian mountain air. One fine day one of my boys might just snap and we will see if those anti-magic charms on this place will allow Grindelwald to bounce when dropped out the tower window onto a nice stone courtyard.

As a wizard, I am sure you can transform him into something useful – like a decorative doorstop. One of those porcelain doggies to stick in the garden might work too. Look, most of us took on this job because of the location – up in the mountains away from most people (Muggle or Magic). It is close enough to a good old stone bridge for a dwelling. However, this single wizard is more trouble than he is worth. In fact, a railway bridge with regular train service sound appealing now - constant racket, sparks raining down and all.

You have until August to make alternative security arrangements. Come September, my boys will wall him up in his cell with some victuals before upping for Norway. We heard they have nice, rugged mountains where we can really live it up as trolls (or part trolls).

Once more, we QUIT!

Trolliver Trollenburg

Nurmengard head warden

30 June 1949

Dear Gellie

You poor thing. They returned the last fruitcake I sent you. I will not blame you for being cranky. My cakes do not explode, do they? Fine, maybe I might have overdone the brandy… but they do not explode.

Henceforth the prisoner shall receive no baked goods or other comestibles.

I think that is unnecessarily strict. What harm can a bit of cake do?

XXXX

Your Auntie Bathilda

P.S. Please write to me at No. 9, Periwinkle Cottage. The fruitcake returned just exploded and burned down my place. I will be staying at your Aunt Griselda's until I find my wand to do a proper Repairo or get a new wand to do it.

Author's Notes:

The warden's resignation letter and the end of the deadly fruitcakes.