More of Credence/Aurelius making an appearance. Not sure how the relationship between Gellert and Aurelius/ Credence will play out in this fic until their eventual falling out in Bhutan.

The Wizard's Apprentice

Winter clung on stubbornly in the Alps with biting winds. Frost rimed the windows and stones. Gaiety was forced in Nurmengard. The heavy atmosphere of the castle discouraged festivities. Queenie had made a half-hearted attempt at carolling, but her enthusiasm petered out well before the ham was carved. Grindelwald was amassing his supporters. Not all were housed at the castle. Bedivere and Galahad observed what they could.

There were secondary manors scattered across the countryside. Queenie would often leave with Vinda to vet the supporters arriving there. Only those who have proven their unquestioning loyalty would be allowed to approach Nurmengard and Grindelwald. At least they did not need to walk through fire, Galahad mused.

The Obscurial was an enigma in himself. He acted like a petulant teen at times, choking with anger and rage. Sometimes he was an innocent child, caught up in the wonder of magic which most wizards would have outgrown by their fifteenth year of life. Of course, he was a baby in terms of his experience with the magical realm. No-Magique raised and abused. If the Sisters Graves had picked him up and rescued him, he might have grown up on the plantation as one of theirs. He would have been given a different name from Arthurian lore – perhaps a Merlin by how strong his magic was even under the ravages of the Obscurus. The sort that would blast the roof off by accident and drive the grown-ups crazy.

The only type of magic he seemed to have been taught by Grindelwald's acolytes was duelling magics. No household or basic hygiene charms. He took his bath and brushed his teeth the non-magical way. Bedivere had observed him picking up the broken pieces of a teacup by hand before a disgusted house elf vanished the mess. Galahad was fascinated by the contradictions. With his magical core shot, he could not teach any spells, but that did not stop him from shouting out advice or encouragement from the window.

"Let magic take your intent! Go with the flow!" Galahad yelled. The youth fired a beam of spellfire from his wand that Krafft barely dodged by throwing himself into the brambles.

"Good work, a bit off on the aim…" Galahad commented. The youth blushed at the praise. Poor thing was so starved for approval.

"You shut up before I cut your tongue out," Krafft bellowed from the thorns. Galahad gave a cocky salute before allowing Bedivere to drag him off the windowsill he had been perched on.

"My arse is freezing…"

"Serves you right for sitting on cold stone for over an hour," Bedivere grumbled as he cast a Warming Charm on his patient. He handed the potion vials over which Galahad downed with a grimace.

"Bee, can you have them honey or cherry-flavoured instead of mud and horse piss?"

"No can do, will muck up the potency, Gal."

"The boy is all power and no finesse. I suppose he needs some training to get his magic pat. Hand me my crutches or bring over the chamber pot…"

"You go piss yourself and get the house elf to clean up. Unlike duppies, they will not leave a clothespin on your dick," the healer complained but levitated the chamber pot over for his patient to relieve himself in.

Bedivere studied the blood on the blade he kept in his ever-present healer's bag. Lucia headbutted him from where she was coiled loosely round his neck. Even with the stasis spells, it would be a matter of time before the blood was totally useless for an escape. There were other complexities to consider – namely Gal's health and magic.

"I would like to teach the lad…"

"After your disaster down south of the border? You had to mess with a mother and her cubs."

"I didn't…"

"How about not properly warning her of that ritual's dangers and allowing her to do it unsupervised? Especially so soon after she lost her sons – a grieving mother, Gal!"

"Shush, Bee. I erred in my judgement. Now no more talk. I believe it is time for my daily walk. Get my crutches or I must crawl downstairs."

Bedivere summoned the crutches from across the room and dressed both himself and Galahad for the nippy air outside.

Lenora. Her twins Jose and Juan. The boys had gone into the arroyo to pick flowers. The rains came early. A ritual to speak with the dead on All Hallows' Eve. Not a beginner's rite. He promised to guide her, but shit happens. He ended up locked up in San Antonio for smuggling singing peyote. Lousy venture that. If only she had waited another year.

There were guests arriving as the pair plodded down the stairs. A group of four dark-haired wixen – two older wizards, a wan-looking young wizard and a witch in a red travelling cloak. The two older wizards were chatting with Grindelwald and another wizard Galahad could not quite place. The witch looked very familiar.

Merde! Galahad froze. Dona Severina.

His hesitance was enough for the witch's attention to whip up the stairs. She scowled and flicked her fingers. There was a sickening crack as his kneecap shattered. Before Bedivere could grab hold of him, he was tumbling down the remaining two dozen or so steps. His head was still spinning when he landed at the bottom in agony. The witch strode up to him.

"For my daughter," she spat in Spanish.

She kicked him in the face with her booted foot. He heard his nose break. At least she did not boil his blood… All went black.

Severine Prince had not expected to find satisfaction, not on this day. She allowed the healer to tend to the fallen wizard as her husband led her away. It mattered not one whit that Galahad Graves had lost a leg. Their host was watching her with a bemused smile.

"You can use magic for that you know…" Bedivere said when he saw the Obscurial picking up pieces of broken porcelain amidst spilled coffee. "You're a wizard, aren't you?"

"I-I d-don't know how…" the youth frowned. One shard had sliced into his palm.

Bedivere shrugged and cast a Scroungify to clean up the spilt coffee. He enunciated the spell instead of doing it wordlessly. Next, he repeated the spell to clean the youth's wound and followed up with an Episkey. He considered the shattered cup and did a Reparo. The youth's hands were marred by old scars. The healer in Bedivere wondered if the dittany essence he had could help. The younger man was looking at him awe.

"Now, would you like to learn how to do that?" Bedivere gave him a smile. Galahad would need some time to heal after Dona Severina's tantrum. Best allow him to sleep it off. He placed the mended coffee cup on the table.

Credence Barebones, Corvus Lestrange, he had shrugged off both names for Aurelius Dumbledore – the name bestowed on him by Lord Grindelwald. He wanted so badly to make the man who gave him his first wand proud. Squib, useless, freak…

"Is that a snake?" Lucia had poked her head out from Bedivere's collar. Bedivere nodded.

"Her name is Lucia. She is my friend. She is a cottonmouth."

"Was she a human once?"

"Non, she was hatched in the bayous of Louisiana. She was going to be used for a potion when I took her from the store," Bedivere smiled as the snake nuzzled his chin. It was rare for apothecaries to sell live ingredients. Lucia had been kept alive in that store for a special order for live water moccasin skin. No one stopped the senior healer when he liberated the small snake from her cage, dropped her into his bag of purchased boomslang skins and strolled out into the streets of New Orleans' magical quarter.

"What do you know of magic growing up?"

"Ma said it is evil- S-sorry!"

"She wasn't really your mother, was she?" the healer asked kindly.

"Cre- Aurelius! His Lordship is asking for you! He is in the west study," Queenie tap-tapped into the parlour on her high heels. Bedivere allowed himself an appreciative skim over her figure-hugging dress, snug at the hips and bosom. No glamours, all natural. He stomped down the urge to picture her au naturale.

"Y-yes, ma'am…" Aurelius stuttered.

"No more ma'ams and such with me, sweetie. It is Queenie…" the blond bombshell chided Aurelius gently. A reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, Miss Queenie… I better go…" Aurelius hastened off. The witch and healer watched him go. Lucia reared up and yawned, displaying the cotton-white inner lining of her mouth as a threat.

"Lucia, she is an ally…" Bedivere chided the snake, who shamefacedly dipped back under his collar. He fearlessly met Queenie's eyes. The Legilimens folded her arms and looked back into his eyes for a heartbeat or two.

"Look here, Buster. He had already been hurt bad enough all these years. He is still hurting even now. So don't mess with him."

"On my oath as a healer and upon my magic, I have no intention of harming Aurelius," Bedivere spread his hands in mock surrender. His magic swirled, a warm wind of sage and pine affirming his honesty. Queenie's lips quirked in a smile.

"Looks like that makes the two of us." She let her arms fall to her sides at ease.

"What made you join this?" Bedivere blurted out.

"Love," the blond witch sighed. "I fear I wasn't thinking clearly." She sank into an armchair and Bedivere took the one nearest to her. She languidly waved her wand to summon a bottle of gigglewater and shot glasses from the side-table.

"You no longer believe that a world dominated by wizards would work for you both, do you? That the laws will be repealed to allow you to marry your non-magical beau under him." Bedivere stated matter-of-factly as the witch nodded glumly and downed a shot of gigglewater.

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder, so I am told," Bedivere accepted the shot he was offered. "If dear Jenny isn't planning to hex us six ways to Sunday. Main thing is we need to come out of this alive – to reunite with those we love."

"Sir," Vinda Rosier tipped her head as she rapped on the study door. "Shall I have the elves bring dinner or will you be joining us in the dining room?"

Grindelwald had been telling the Obscurial of how the Dumbledores had cast him out, fanning Aurelius' hatred against his family, especially Albus Dumbledore. The boy was a treasure, a gift of Fate to their cause. A magical abused by Muggles. A potential martyr. Apart from duelling practice with the other acolytes, Grindelwald insisted that the youth be fed anti-Muggle propaganda so that he would look on the ICW's policy of secrecy and co-existence with the non-magicals with revulsion. He often took a hand in those lessons, priming his weapon.

"Have them bring us dinner in here," Grindelwald smiled at his lieutenant, who bowed and departed. He turned his attention to Aurelius. Salem had been the worst clash between the non-magical and magical communities. The Barebones woman had used the same poisonous rhetoric in her campaign against magic as her forebears did at Salem. He would have preferred someone with the guts to argue and question. Instead, he felt like a history schoolteacher as related accounts of the Salem witch hunts and assigned reading homework.

"Any questions?"

"Sir… Can you please tell me – about my real mother… if you please?" Aurelius' eyes were almost luminous in his thin, pale face as he asked his mentor.

Grindelwald stifled the urge to shake the boy. He had instilled the unshakeable belief that his uncle was an overbearing tyrant and his father too feckless to protest. That he had been abandoned to the meagre mercies of the Muggle world. He had not given any thought to the maternal side of the family. He knew the truth, but it was not a convenient truth he wished Aurelius to know.

"W-was she a No-Maj?" the youth asked hesitantly.

"No, she was a witch…" Grindelwald admitted.

"Then why did she give me up? Why?" The windows of the study rattled at Aurelius' agitation.

"She died. Now calm yourself," Grindelwald coaxed.

Aurelius had already manifested his Obscurus twice during his stay in the castle. Repairing the damage, even with spells was a bitch to deal with. Before anyone could speak further, a house elf popped into the study with their dinner – roast beef in brown sauce with potatoes and sauerkraut. Dessert was a bread and custard pudding.

Author's Notes:

Grindelwald knows the family background of Credence as he has been doing his homework tracing his family.