Bathilda's letters to her favourite nephew, like fruitcake, never ages. Gellert finds himself unwillingly reconnecting with former acquaintances. The vagaries of memory.

1952

16th June 1952

Dear Gellie

It has been a while since you last wrote, but I wish to inform you that my roses have won the best garden award in Godric's Hollow. And I solemnly swear I did not charm the judges this time (at least not with magic). I got myself a kneazle-cat. They are so much more manageable for an elderly witch.

Do you still recall Anna Lola? The pretty young witch I was trying to fix you up with back then, but you kept hiding at the Dumbledore place. She is now a great-grandmother. She wants me to be godmother to the little pup. You two would have been such a handsome pair. Instead, you ran off on this crazy Dark Wizard thing and she married a Selkie. They never hang around long, those seal-folk. Took off a couple of years into the marriage. All their children and grandchildren inherited that propensity for changing into seals, so we were not too surprised when the new baby turned into a seal when dipped in the baptismal font. We have to obliviate the vicar and the baby's Muggle dad. Otherwise, all is good.

Poor Anna Lola has been alone since her Selkie husband took off, I thought you two might like to reconnect. I asked her if she might be interested in writing to you when we shared a cuppa tea after the ceremony. It took a bit of persuasion before she finally agreed. I feel it will do good for you to strike up a friendship with someone other than Albus Dumbledore.

Play nice now

XXXX

Your Auntie Bathilda

29th June 1952

Dear Grindelwald

I will be upfront about this entire letter thing. I am writing under duress as your dear Auntie threatened to turn little Beanie into a sealskin purse. Back in the summer of 1899, you were busy snogging someone else in the barn while I am left waiting in the park, in the pouring rain. There never was anything between us. You were, to me, just another immature boy with more looks than brains and sense. And a foreigner to boot. And I was fourteen – far too young to be thinking of marriage and such myself.

Just an update on things if your Auntie has not already updated you – I married a full-blooded Selkie in 1905 and we were gloriously happy together for ten years. My darling Seamus died a war hero in 1915 when his vessel was torpedoed. Our five sons all followed in his footsteps and joined the navy, as did seven of our grandsons. My eldest grand-daughter Sarah was the first part-Selkie witch to make Auror in 1932.

You had her killed back in 1940 in Berlin. Her brother Sean was killed behind enemy lines in 1942 and his cousins Solomon and Silas were killed in Normandy in 1944. Your Auntie has some nerve to barge into our family gathering uninvited and set herself up as little Bean's godmother. We will rather have a Welsh Green as her godmother instead, thank you.

You are on a life sentence, yes? A curse upon your blood.

Anna Lola Selkie

(Ancient runes promising an agonizing death to Grindelwald and all his kin)

Summer 1952

Dear Mrs Selkie

Apologies, your memories of the summer of 1899 differ vastly from what I do remember. I was forced to babysit a silly dog-faced girl with an annoying honking laugh like a goose. And those tea parties in the park – ugh… Methinks yanking out one's fingernails without pain relief one by one would be preferable. If you did stay out in the rain waiting for me to return then, yes that proves my point about you, you silly goose. I do hope for your husband's sake that the intervening years were an improvement. Otherwise, one might be inclined to look at his demise in another light. Or perhaps your natural whiskers were what sealed the deal for your seal-man?

I believe you have confused me with some other German guy. Perhaps you are referring to that old chap with the big whiskers or the dummkopf with a silly moustache? I do not believe I have had the misfortune to encounter any of your offspring. I was not in Normandy in 1944. If my people were responsible, which I sincerely doubt, surely I cannot be expected to take responsibility for their actions – it was war after all and soldiers should know what they were getting into.

About that part-Selkie Auror, did she have black hair and brown eyes? Quite a formidable female. I do recall her being a total pain. A face like a bulldog and a bite like one. Vinda decided she would make a better sealskin cap. It's probably still lying around here somewhere if the moths have not gotten to it yet. I will post it back to you if turns up.

Gellert Grindelwald

P.S. Please do not feel obliged to write back.

15th September 1952

Dear Gellert

Would you be so kind as to explain why the Ministry is being flooded by a deluge of howlers with regards to the disrespectful treatment of the remains of shapeshifting war dead? For the last time, stop spreading rumours among the Selkies that the skins of their dead kin have been turned into sealskin tobacco purses or fashionable hats.

We were so done with this back in 1945 with rumours about the werewolf rugs. I had to give my old bearskin rug on grounds it may or may not have been the Norwegian wizard war hero Berksen the Bear who was missing in action since 1941. Ever had to go through a military wizard burial of a fireplace rug knowing it is a dusty old rug that has been in your family for 300 years and Berksen's mortal remains are probably still lying somewhere in the Norwegian mountains? Not an experience I want to repeat.

Utterly annoyed

Albus Dumbledore

Author's Notes:

Grindelwald is being horrid there. Young Grindelwald is not popular with the girls (or maybe is just Anna Lola). Some disturbing references to those Nazi human skin lampshades.

Selkie- the mythical being from Scottish folklore with ability to change between human and seal form.