A tete-a-tete between two wizards in Muggle London does not go well. Galahad the necromancer has a discussion with his mentor beyond the grave. Bedivere confronts the Princes. Newt is hot on the trail of the Qilin and he is not alone.

The Dance of the Qilin

"With or without you, I'll burn down their world…"

Albus groaned as he Apparated into his room above the Leaky Cauldron. Had he truly expected things to go any differently? In the end, he had failed to talk Gellert out of his path of self-destruction. Albus rubbed his neck. Gellert's breath on his neck…

A summer's day. A spell cast too strong. Gellert gritting his teeth as he bled, his arm lacerated by his opponent's hex. Albus lowered his wand, wanting to help. Then a Stunner that knocked him out. Gellert almost died. If his Tante Bathilda had not come up to see what was taking the boys so long in the attic and fetch them down for supper… Bathilda managed to heal up Gellert's mangled arm and force two vials of blood replenishers down his throat. He would spend two more days confined to his bed to recover.

I won, Albus… That irritating smirk when Albus tried to apologize. He had come so close to losing Gellert. He had hugged his friend, no, soulmate. Gellert had kissed him on the ear – a teasing peck. Then it became something more.

Furtive fumbling in the old barn. Secretive visits under the cover of night. They even did it once by the river under a Disillusionment Charm as a clueless Muggle couple picnicked nearby. Gellert had gone so far as to steal the pair's sandwiches. Albus made him return the purloined sandwiches to their picnic hamper.

A portkey tie, a pendant, and a book. Albus regarded the objects he had prepared. The snakewood wand would be delivered once it was ready. No news from Newt yet. It was as if the wilds of the Chinese interior had swallowed his former student whole.

The Qilin was the lynchpin. Without the beast, all their plans, for them both would be for nought.

Grindelwald stared into the flames. The infamous Severine had delivered to the Alliance the bones of a necromancer. They lay ready and waiting for the coming of the beast that would bow to him and thus seal his position as Supreme Mugwump. If his visions were to be believed. Yet he knew that his heart was not pure enough for a Qilin to willingly bow to him. There was only one way…

Galahad – his half-brother – was kept under close guard. He must have surely sensed his master's bones nearby. He had gone about eating and sleeping without any change. At Vinda's recommendation, they had separated the healer from his charge. Bedivere was allowed to visit his patient twice a day to monitor his health and magic, with Vinda or another of his trusted acolytes present to ensure the pair did not get any ideas about escape. Bedivere was moved up to the tower, as far as possible from Galahad. He had provided the healer with a magical brazier and Warming Charms so he should not suffer too much from the cold.

He knew Miss Goldstein provided Bedivere with warm clothes and blankets, bought off the rack during her travels and altered to suit the healer. So did the Princes in thanks for saving Severine's life. He was allowed access to the castle library for research where needed, under careful guard of course. The Princes supplied him with the latest journals in the healing arts. A skilled healer was a gem to be treasured, especially one like Bedivere Graves who specialized in treating Dark Magic injuries. He had no place for fools in his Alliance. If he could, he would recruit the wizard, but he had no illusions about where the man's loyalties lay.

Albus had not changed one whit despite the passing years. The way he drank his tea. The same infuriating tone of voice. Those twinkling blue eyes… Grindelwald let out a breath he had not even known he was holding.

In the bowels of the castle Galahad sat on his bed and meditated, calling on his prowess as a necromancer. This was the first time he felt his core strong enough to endure the trial. The Baron was nearby.

A pool of silvery liquid. A coffin…

Have you seen your death, young un? Galahad nodded. He felt oddly at peace. True necromancers do not fear Death as they are his Chosen ones.

Have you chosen your successor? Who would he be? The shadowy form of his master stood before him. Behind him was another being – Death.

The woman who weeps for her lost children. The daughter of a blood mage.

So the next necromancer of our line is a madwoman? The Baron frowned. Would she be able to pass on the flame?

If Fate wills it, she will recover enough to pass on the teachings… Galahad smiled wryly at his deceased master's admonishment. He had left the selection of an apprentice for too long. He had not found a suitable candidate until Lenora.

So Santa Muerte it is. The shadows wavered around them. Then Galahad was alone. He smiled. He had accomplished what he had set out to do – summon the Baron and their common master Death. With magic's blessing and Death's aid, his chosen apprentice might just recover to pass on the knowledge.

Bedivere hissed a greeting to the ashwinder nesting in the library fireplace. Young Louis Prince barely looked up from his game of chess at his approach. Louis watched and listened. He had proven himself an invaluable ally after the healer saved his older wife. His opponent was Uncle Alois, who was currently been routed. A chess piece fell off the table. Regular No-Maj chess.

"Allow me," The healer swooped down to pick it up. He returned it to its place in the game. "You look well, Master Prince."

"His fever has broken, thanks to your potions," Alois inclined his head.

"Yet you would deliver my brother's death to Nurmengrad," Bedivere countered.

"Touche, all in the name of business, Master Healer," Severine glided over soundlessly to join them with Benoit by her side. "Louis does not know when to hold his peace," Severine chided, causing her husband to flush crimson.

"You desecrated the tomb of my family's forebears…"

"Apologies, but it is for the Greater Good," Severine smirked. "Have you thought of your own future, Master healer? Do you think MACUSA will welcome you back with open arms, allow you to resume your practice in New Orleans?"

"We did not ask to be Portkeyed here," Bedivere murmured. His oath required him to render aid to those in need, regardless of affiliation. He had treated many of the Alliance, not only Severine and her sickly husband Louis. Would MACUSA stoop to use that against him?

The crackdown on suspected Alliance sympathizers had been fierce in places against Grindelwald. Whole families including children forced on the run or risk prison or even death. Wizarding prisons were as a rule harsh places from which few emerged unscathed. MACUSA had the Tombs and The British Azkaban. The Germans were rumoured to be still running Erkstag with its feared manticores despite declarations to the ICW they had closed the place after the Muggle Great War.

"Your brother is a dead man. You would do better to think on the future as we do," Benoit added. He winced as Severine dug her fingers into his elbow a little too hard. The action did not slip Bedivere's notice. The Princes were up to something.

The Forbidden City

"Minister Liu, here are reports you requested…"

Liu Tao shrugged off his ceremonial robes as his aide bowed and offered him the scrolls. The newly appointed Minister scanned through the words. A foreign wizard had slowly but surely made his way upriver into the interior, with an Old Master's blessings. That magizoologist would not be touched. To defy an Old Master's decree was to invite political ruin.

There was another party of foreigners coming in across from French Indochina. The provinces there had always been restive. The Muggles were colonized by the French, the wix acted otherwise – a motley collection of factions, each with their own head shaman. The French Ministry claimed to represent wix in the region at the ICW. Liu Tao doubted the locals even cared about the larger wizarding community. The border was both long and porous. It was not unheard of for intrepid Muggle or wix adventurers to venture where they should not.

"Sir, shall we send in a squad…"

"No, leave the wilds to do their worst." They could not spare the Aurors, especially the highly trained ones needed for such a patrol and possible hit.

Newt snuggled down in his sleeping bag beside the campfire. He had tracked the Qilin male for many days now without seeing hide or hair of it. Pickett enjoyed the profusion of free bugs and magic trees he could explore, even if he would return to Newt's pocket at day's end. Teddy was less enamoured of their surroundings. He squeaked his grievances constantly. The damp wreaked havoc with his fur, and there nothing of interest to niffler. Douglas got dreamy and distracted when out of the suitcase. The Demiguise would spend nights crooning at the moon. Newt wondered if this meant he was ready to leave them. Douglas had been with him for many years since his rescue as a cub from an illegal trader.

Now Douglas padded over and tugged on his robes. The Demiguise stared at a moonlit clearing. Glow bugs flickered lazily. Otherwise, all was silent. Douglas had sensed something coming. Demiguises were precognitive…

"Nox," Newt snuffed out the fire, eliciting an outraged squeak from Teddy who had been trying to warm his paws by the flames. He scooped up Pickett and Teddy, popping them into his pocket. Taking his suitcase, they retreated into the underbrush.

"Oh…" Newt could not help but gasp when the first Qilin stepped soundlessly into the clearing. It was the large male.

The magnificent beast roared and pawed the grass. His mate emerged next. The she-Qilin nuzzled her mate. What followed was the rarely witnessed and never recorded courtship dance of the Qilin. Newt noticed the male's sides were also streaked with dark blood. Blood also marred his antlers. Had the prelude to this gentle dance been a fierce battle for the female's favours? The pair pranced and bobbed, until the female yielded and presented her rear end to the male.

With a triumphant bellow, he mounted her. The coupling was a short and almost anticlimactic matter after the courtship dance. Spent, the male staggered away on unsteady hooves. The smaller female watched her mate depart into the shadows before she too followed his example. After mating the pair had parted ways. Being in the open was too risky for any wild creature.

Newt let out a breath he had not even known he had been holding. Should he? He considered the two paths the Qilins had taken. The amount of blood on the grass unsettled Newt. Surely that could not bode well.

In a woodcutter's shack twenty miles away…

"We should have brought that healer along…" Carrow grumbled.

"And risk an escape?" someone countered. "Or our lord's necromancer croaking before his time?"

Lying on the crude cot bed and breathing heavily, Rutger was not going to last the night. Aurelius grimly pressed a towel against the gaping wound in his abdomen, trying to staunch the blood flowing from it. He had treated his younger siblings' hurts back in New York, but never he encountered such a wound. He tried to ignore the slick sheen of exposed guts and sickly reek of punctured bowels. Carrow had tried to cast a healing spell, but it refused to take.

It had seemed too easy then when the bloody Qilin appeared before them. Aurelius thought it was the most magnificent creature ever. It had appeared almost tame as he frolicked through the wildflowers. The Kingmaker beast. Nagel had cast a net then, trying to ensnare the creature. The beast slashed through the magical net as a knife through butter. Then it turned the full power of its rage on its would-be hunters.

The Slicing hexes thrown did little to slow the creature. They had refrained from a Killing Curse as Grindelwald wanted the beast caught live. Aurelius had been ordered to hang back. His more experienced partners did not want him underfoot. Then Carrow shouting for a retreat. Aurelius had watched in horror as the Qilin toss his fellow acolyte into the air with its massive rack of antlers. The others wasted no time either Apparating or Side- Apparated to safety. They had left Nagel behind with his skull stoved in by the creature's sharp hooves.

There had been another Qilin. One without the impressive rack of antlers. Aurelius had caught a glimpse in the shadows of the gnarled, moss-cloaked trees as he fled with Vinda.

A death rattle, then silence. The finality of death. Aurelius closed the dead wizard's eyes.

"Leave him. Rutger's gone."

"Shouldn't we bury him?" Aurelius ventured. He rubbed his hands seeking out water to wash the blood off. Someone relented by casting an Aguamenti over his hands so he might wash. He was less sure if a Scroungify would remove the tang of blood from his garments.

"No point. The local wildlife will take care of him." In the end they dropped Rutger down one of the many caves nearby. They still needed the shack as a base.

Newt cautiously inched towards the Qilin. The poor beast's strength had finally given out along a stream. Tracking it through the rugged terrain and thick undergrowth had not been easy. It had taken him almost a whole day to catch up. The beast's fank still rose and fell with each tortured breath. To his dismay, Newt knew he was too late to save the beast.

His approach made the Qilin stir and shake its antlers and scales in a warning. Blood oozed anew from the gashes in its side. The flesh had started to turn septic. The stench of rot was heavy in the air.

"Easy there, boy…" Newt coaxed as he took out a vial of numbing potion. The wounds must be causing him great pain. The least he could do was to ease the creature's passing. The creature bellowed and fell over. Dead.

Such a magnificent beast. Such a waste.

Newt regarded the wounds and frowned. This was not the gashes left by a fight with a fellow Qilin male. These oozed dark magic and ill intent. He reached out and touched the still-warm corpse. There was something caught on its antler. A ragged scrap of net. Poachers? Why would they want to hunt a Qilin?

Professor Dumbledore had asked him to seek out a Qilin. Were there others on a similar quest? Newt gathered up his suitcase. They would need to move to higher ground and soon. There had been rain clouds over the hills. Thunder roared in the distance. The stream might turn into a torrent.

Newt heard the telltale roar of surging water. Too late. He could not Apparate to safety before the onslaught of the flash flood caught him. Darkness.

Author's Notes:

Fun trivia - Deer kill more people than sharks worldwide annually. Qilin are described as a cross between a dragon and deer so Grindelwald's boys and girls get a taste of angry Bambi. I am not sure who exactly got sent with Credence on that mission, but the first attempt at Qilin-hunting ends messily.