A/N: Well, we are back. I put this story on Hiatus out of respect for the current international conflict that began transpiring months ago. There will be blatant pro-Russian dialogue and propaganda when we actually land there halfway in the story, and I didn't want to release that while the Russian-Ukraine war was fresh. Of course, this is a work of historical fiction, but the last thing I want is to be lambasted for insensitivity. Regardless of what side anyone is on in the conflict, people are dying on both sides and all loss of life is a tragedy. I do hope the conflict ends soon.

Chapter 4

The Devil Herself

"He is no Gaunt. He's lying to you." He whispered to her.

"Stop talking. You're wrong."

Uncle Morfin loomed over her as she sat in her seat, the locket he'd so recently shoved in her face swinging from his neck. "He's using you. Can't you see? He is going to throw you away as soon as he's done with you."

"You're lying." His slow words swam in her brain, feeding her fears. She pulled her wand on him, but it didn't seem to faze him in the slightest. He may have been bigger than her, but she was confident that she had the edge with magic.

"I've given you all the proof you needed to see, Emily. The locket, the ring, the special little gift that only the two of us share. Even my sister couldn't speak it, and my father was ashamed of it. You know my words are the truth. He'll abandon you, just like my sister abandoned you."

"Harry will never leave me." If it was true, if he wasn't her family... then he could. He might.

Her uncle snorted at her, then started laughing at her openly. "Why would he keep you? You're underage. Your temper is uncontrollable. All you have is a talent for magic and a mildly pretty face. And let's be honest, the face is wasted on someone like you."

"Fuck you!" Right before she lashed out at him, her uncle backed away.

The man moved to sit back down on his chair. "You're worthless to him, Emily. You haven't a knut to your name. Even the name is useless to him, the legacy of a muggle. If he isn't your family, then what is he keeping you next to him for?"

With a snarl, she yelled at him. "He cares about me! Family loves one another! They care for each other!"

"Love? Care? As if, but what if you're wrong and I'm right? If he isn't a Gaunt? Then why does he stay?"

Anxiety twisted her insides painfully. If Harry didn't have an obligation to her, then why would he stay?

"He... he chooses to."

She watched as the man in front of her smiled. "And why would he? What does he benefit from it? What good are you?"

Emily closed her eyes and let out a breath. "He wouldn't. He gains nothing." In an immediate turn, her emotions exploded. Jumping up from the chair, Emily grabbed the empty clay vase on the table and threw it into the wall. "Which is all the more reason for me to trust him. He is our family!"

"Then have him prove it." Morfin didn't even flinch at her outburst, simply staring out the window. Quieter, he continued. "There is only one reason a man keeps a woman he has no attachments to at his side. Even if you were warming his bed, he would eventually grow tired of you. He cannot marry you. You cannot provide him heirs. Not with him being aware of your filthy blood. You'll run out of time one day and wake up to find the bed you kept for him cold."

Emily stayed silent. Her uncle said nothing as well. "This is all a moot point. Harry has risked a lot for me. He stayed with me when it was dangerous, when he could die. He didn't run away. If you are right, and he's done this all for my body, then why has he made no overtures to that."

"You've been together all of a day. It will come. And then you will know that I was right. You have nothing else that he could want."

Emily turned to look out the same window her uncle's eyes were glued to. "What should I do?"

"Kill him."

A small part of Emily was surprised that she showed no reaction to his statement. A larger part of her was surprised to find that she felt no reaction to his statement. She felt the urge to mock him, but that was all. His words did nothing more than cool the ever-present rage and anger that she'd carried inside of her for the longest time.

"Kill him?"

"Yes, we can get rid of him together. Then you can come forward as a member of the house of Gaunt. We'll hide your ancestry. If he's dead, no one else will know who you are. We'll pass you off as a pureblood, you can find a good man and live your days in comfort. You can help restore our disgraced family name."

It felt as though the frozen emotion in the pit of her stomach had now started seeping through her veins, in a painfully slow crawl. There it was again. Uncle Morfin kept saying it over and over again. "Pureblood? Is it really so important? Is it something I need so badly?"

Morfin nodded. "Your filthy blood closes any door to you that would lift you up from all your problems. If only Merope hadn't of been so foolish to bear the spawn of that muggle. You have nothing if your blood is tainted. You are nothing."

She was... nothing. She was worthless. But... was she? The cold feeling reached from the ends of her toes to the tips of her fingers, and Emily realized that her anger had not, in fact, been suppressed. It had evolved to something far greater. Darker. Foul.

"Nothing. You think so, Uncle Morfin?" Emily began playing with her wand. Twirling it on her fingers, she watched as the wood took on a faint glow. Her magic was responding to her, in ways that it had never answered her call before.

"A mudblood can never amount to anything, Emily. No matter any other circumstance, you will never be-" Emily didn't even allow her uncle to finish his thought. She'd had enough. In a simple action, Emily lightly waved her wand in her uncle's direction and the result was catastrophic. It was as though the man's body had been struck by the force of a hundred flying dragons. His body was torn apart, blood now coating the window he'd just been looking through. In a single moment, the man that had just been speaking to her had been reduced to a smear that covered half of the home.

"Well, look at that uncle. It must run in the family. Now, you've become nothing too."

Emily, as it turned out, loved to sight see. Something Harry was surprised to find out, impressed that she had any energy at all. Her sleep the night before had been fitful and Harry worried if the death of Myrtle haunted her dreams. After Harry apparated the two of them across the channel into France, Emily listed several historical sites that she wanted to visit.

Harry pinched his nose, reminding her of a very important fact. "Emily, you can't go to the magical section of the Louvre. Or did you forget about the war going on right now? Most of the art's been evacuated, anyway. And keep quiet, we don't want to draw attention to ourselves."

She stared at him, "What are you going on about? We're not even in England anymore, Harry. It's not like the Germans are going to bomb France when they currently control the country."

Harry was honestly surprised that Emily even knew the Nazis controlled France at the moment. Apparently, she did pay a small amount of attention to the news while at the orphanage. This thought made him pause, and he asked her something that he felt any responsible family member would.

"Did you have any close calls, during the summer months?"

Emily shook her head, "No, fortunately for us magicals, we were safe inside the walls of Hogwarts during the Blitz, and bombings since then have been few and far between."

Harry nodded. He'd already known that, but Dumbledore had told him that Emily's main desire not to return to the orphanage in the later years of her education were probably due to fear of future German bombings. However, Dumbledore had refused to let her and other muggleborn students shelter in the safety of Hogwarts because he knew that they were no longer in danger.

To most, it was common knowledge that The Blitz started in September 1940 to the end of the following May. A time frame that was practically tailor made for school children sent off to boarding school. Harry, knowing what he knew from the future, was already aware that there had been a certain wizard pulling the strings of that operation.

Gellert Grindlewald exercised a large amount of control when it came to the Nazi Germany military decisions. There was debate in his timeline whether or not Grindlewald had the Fuhrer himself under the Imperius charm. Harry, with his ties to the man who brought the dark lord down, knew better. While he was aware that Grindlewald had insisted on a certain set of dates for the Nazi Luftwaffe to initiate the bombings, Hitler had needed to get Britain under his heel and had agreed to the dark lord's request.

Apparently, the attack's time period had been a message to Albus Dumbledore to stay away. Otherwise, his muggleborn students would pay a heavy price. The deterrent was effective and Albus put off the confrontation with Grindlewald for years. But eventually, the man had to step forward and put an end to the dark lord's plans.

"We'll need to keep our heads down. Anyone asks you for papers and I'm not near you, tell them your chaperon has them. Describe me in detail and make certain they look for me. Don't try and fight them. If they try and take you somewhere, yell for me once and then comply. I'll hear you."

When Emily nodded, the two set off. While Harry didn't plan on leaving Emily alone for even a moment during their short time in the French capital, he wanted them to have a plan in case things got out of hand. His primary focus in being here was getting something called the Maledict draught. With it, Harry would be able to remove Emily's trace.

It was an old potion and pretty rare. But he knew he could find it in the capital's apothecary. The Maledict draught had the effect of moving foreign magic in one's body to the surface of their skin so it could be removed or destroyed. The process tended to be difficult with curses and the patients more often than not suffered horrible pain or even death. Some of the vilest curses even rebounded on the person removing the magic, killing them in a horrific and painful manner. However, as the Trace was nothing more than a monitoring spell, Harry felt he could remove it.

As the two began moving down the street, Emily grabbed Harry's arm as the two walked. Harry shivered but managed to not pull away. "If it's so dangerous here, then why bring me?" Emily kept her voice low enough that others would not be able to hear.

"I needed you out of Britain because you have the trace on you. France is the closest place that I am remotely familiar with. Once we get what I need, we'll be getting out of here. Probably go to Russia. I know we'll be safe there."

Emily hummed in agreement and loosened her hold on his arm, though she did not relinquish it completely. "The Germans have been making a laughingstock of themselves as far the invasion of Russia is concerned. As long as we settle away from the border, we should be safe."

Harry smiled and nodded. What Emily didn't realize was that the Germans would launch their last offensive on Russia in three weeks' time. After that conflict, Russia would be relatively safe. He and Emily could settle down there for a few months and then return to Britain.

Thinking the conversation to be over, Harry made to remove his arm from Emily's embrace, but she suddenly tightened her grip. "How is it that you're certain of our safety? Last I heard, Hitler is very intent on invading the Russians. What is to prevent us from having a bomb dropped on our heads?"

Harry grimaced. This was a question he couldn't answer as easily as the information was much less known. It wouldn't be until the sixties that the magical community even became aware of the facts, and the muggles would never learn of them.

"Russia won't fall. They have a good military, and they have a great deal of help from the shadows. Hitler underestimates them far too much." Harry didn't speak further, and Emily did not pry.

It took them twenty minutes to make it to the entrance of the magical district of France. Harry had only been to Paris once before, and it was the only French city he felt he could navigate efficiently. But the streets in Paris were far less colorful now. There were far less crowds, the streets practically empty, and Nazi military uniforms were a common enough sight that Harry found that his stress levels were creeping up at a steady rate. Thankfully, they only had to sneak past one patrol team. The entrance itself was an old oak door that was just placed in the center of an otherwise nondescript wall. Harry was unaware how many charms were placed on it to keep muggles from touching it but could only assume it was similar to the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron.

Once Harry and Emily were inside the magical district Harry felt himself relax slightly. Emily, on the other hand, started skipping towards the Magical Quarter's closest shop without a care in the world. Harry's eyes widened and he barked, "Where the hell are you going?"

The Magical Quarter was not like Diagon Alley, a handful of sporadically connected streets. No, France's magical district was massive, the spanning several square kilometers. Harry often wondered how they kept it shielded from muggle eyes. The important thing, however, was that it was far too easy to get separated here, and the dangers were far more numerous than catching a hex or being mugged down Knockturn Alley.

Emily stared at him as though he had grown a second head. "Exploring. No more Nazi patrols, so we're fine now, right?"

Clearly, Harry needed to share more information with the girl. "Emily, look, right now, with the Nazis in control of the country, the magical side isn't any better off. Have you heard of a wizard called Gellert Grindlewald?"

Emily scoffed at him. "Who hasn't heard of Gellert Grindlewald, Harry? He's the most powerful dark lord ever known." She paused, before she made the connection with what he was saying. "Oh, are you telling me that he's here now? Are we going to meet him?"

Harry had to resist the urge to, well, not throttle the girl, that was certainly never going to happen again, but he did wish she'd stop being a moron. "Emily. We are not going to try and meet Gellert Grindlewald. We will not see him. If, in some universal bullshit manner, we come across him, or catch the attention of any of his followers, we are leaving immediately. Do you understand me? The man is a dangerous psychopath, not a side show attraction you can gawk at."

The girl pouted. It seemed as though she really did want to meet the man. "Fine. We'll run away like a couple of cowards. Got it. But I bet we could take him if it was the two of us and just him."

Harry privately agreed with her. While Grindlewald was indeed, immensely powerful, he was not on Emily's level. His greatness was mostly from the fact he was an incredible speaker and drew people to his cause by the thousands. Between the two of them, Harry felt confident in their odds.

"Stick by me. Let's go." While Harry knew how to enter the magical district in Paris, he had no idea where the apothecary was. Magical supremacy propaganda covered the streets as they walked down the main thoroughfare. Phrases like 'Might Makes Right' and 'Magic Makes the Master' were seen often. As Emily began reading bits of everything, she shrunk the distance between the two of them. For a moment, Harry thought she finally understood the danger that they were in just by being here.

"Sounds to me like the man has the right idea." Emily's whisper into Harry's ear dispelled his notions of her having any common sense.

"Depends on your point of view. Grindlewald is willing to kill anyone who stands in the way of his utopia. Even magicals." Emily cocked her head to the side at that and nodded.

"You're right. No matter how noble his goal is, he shouldn't be allowed to kill witches and wizards like that. It's not a good enough reason. A person should only kill to protect someone. To protect family." Harry was surprised by her comment but gave her a smile.

"Killing is sometimes necessary, but yeah, it should be avoided at all costs."

When Emily glanced at him, he felt as though she was looking through him. "Have you ever killed before?"

Harry shrugged, clearly not really wanting to go into it. "Like I said, I've been fighting a long time."

"Against Grindlewald?"

"People who shared his ideals, I've never come across the man himself."

He wasn't surprised by the conclusion she drew. He'd told her that he'd been fighting a long time, so it was only natural for her to assume he'd been fighting in the war of this time period. And seeing as his opinion of Grindlewald was blatantly negative, she also took the liberty of labeling the side he fought on.

"You dislike him and his ideals that much?"

Harry sighed before pausing outside the door of a pub. "Let's just say this, had you been as muggle as your good for nothing father, I'd have still protected you."

"What is your relationship with muggles?" Emily seemed genuinely curious, so Harry did his best to answer.

"I haven't met too many good ones, to be honest. Most of them are bullied by those stronger than them. There were a couple I've met that weren't complete garbage, but, by and large, I don't get along with them. I'm sure the majority of them are fine people, I just had poor luck with the ones I met. Everyone deserves the right to live in peace, however, and that includes muggles." It pained Harry to realize that other than the Dursley's Harry didn't actually know any other muggles. Dudley had made certain that Harry never had a friend and once Harry went to Hogwarts, he never had much exposure to non magicals afterwards.

"So... you don't like muggles, then?"

Harry sighed. "I'm certainly not prejudice against them like other purebloods. But I do support our segregation. Keep the magical and nonmagical separate." Harry detested the magical supremacy doctrine. That the only way to coexist was by subjugating the muggles.

"Have you spent a lot of time around muggles, then?"

This was not something Harry could answer honestly, as it would look odd if he, a pureblood member of the house of Gaunt, spent his childhood surrounded by muggles. "Only recently. After I left Hogwarts and home, I mingled with the muggle world pretty heavily."

The two continued walking and eventually Harry came across an apothecary. It seemed busy, but that was to be expected. Even in the midst of an oppressive regime, people still had necessities. Opening the door, he was assaulted by the repulsive smell of potion ingredients. Fresh toad liver didn't smell good in the first place, and the aged variety was worse. Making his way through the shelves to the back of the store Harry noticed the furtive glances thrown their way. Walking to the till located at the back, he spoke to the clerk behind it to ask, "Parlez tu Anglais?

He was certain that he completely butchered his question and judging by the man's sneer he assumed he did, in fact, mess up something, but it was clear that the man understood his meaning.

"Un momento." The clerk waved at someone and shouted something in rapid French that Harry had no chance to pick up. A larger man made his way towards the counter, and when he spoke Harry found himself being unnerved.

"You need something?" The Frenchman's accent was heavy, but he seemed fluent in English.

"A maledict draught."

"What for?" He supposed it shouldn't be too odd that the potion might be monitored. Only a licensed professional should administer the draught, and Harry began wondering if he'd struggle to make his purchase.

"My wife," Harry motioned to Emily, who stared blankly at the large man, her face impassive, "was cursed as a child with infertility. I have contacted a licensed healer and was told I needed to procure this potion for the procedure."

"Strange you had to come all the way to Paris for such a thing? Do you not have any decent apothecaries in Britain?"

Harry gave the man a smile, "Not any so fine as this establishment, no. Hence why we are here. Can you help us?"

The man looked at him shrewdly but then walked away. Harry knew to be patient. When the man came back just a few moments later, he had a tiny potion bottle with a clear liquid in it. "Your purchase comes to sixteen galleons and four sickles."

Harry winced. Though he knew the potion wouldn't be cheap, he didn't think it would be so steep in price. Still, he and Emily stuck out enough as it was, being foreigners, he wasn't about to draw even further attention to them by trying to haggle over the price. Forking over the exorbitant amount of gold, the man began writing up a receipt for Harry. However, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the first employee with his head in the fireplace, clearly making a floo call.

Grabbing the potion, Harry thanked the man at the counter. "The receipt is unnecessary. Have a good day." He ushered Emily out of the shop and kept a brisk pace. A sudden, very slight wave of magic washed over him and he cursed quietly. Emily, who was close enough to hear, looked at him questioningly.

"Did you feel that?" he asked.

"Sort of, but only barely. What was it?"

"It was a ward. Cuts off all spatial travel, even the floo. This section of the quarter is on lockdown."

Harry ducked the two of them down a small alley and rapped his wand over her head and his, disillusioning them. His timing could not have been better, because as soon as the two peaked their heads from the alley, they saw a group of uniformed men walking past the alleyway's entrance.

"Who are they?" Emily whispered to Harry. Harry had instructed that she grab his cloak so they wouldn't be separated, and he began leading them carefully to the entrance of the magical district. They had to get out of here.

"Grindlewald's Enforcers. The Vollstrecker. They are in charge of rounding up spies and generally executing them. They also do general policing and patrols. But if you're a foreigner and you meet a squad without papers, you'll be lucky to be alive the next morning."

"So, what are we going to do?"

"Sneak out, obviously. We'll be fine if we can make it back to the place we entered from."

However, this was going to be far harder to do in reality. Making their way to the exit was a simple matter, but on arriving they found things more complicated. The exit was guarded by another team of Enforcers. The group of four men and one woman were evenly spread out so as not to be completely disabled by a wide ranged spell. Every time a person approached them; they were sent back the way they came. Clearly, no one was allowed to leave.

"I think you're plan to sneak out isn't going to work."

Harry nodded, "We're going to have to brute force our way out."

"How fun. We get to take out one of Grindlewald's handpicked teams. I'll take care of the three on the right, you take the two on the left."

Harry wanted to correct her, telling her that he'd take the three on the left and she should take the two on the right but found that the tight grip that had held onto his cloak had vanished. Silently cursing the young girl, he moved left. As soon as Emily fired her first spell, Harry would throw out as many stunners as he could before the small group retaliated.

Even the best laid plans, however, could fail when trying to be implemented. As soon as Harry got within a few feet of the woman, she spoke. "Seems like we have company, boys."

Two of the men responded to her, one in French and the other in German. Harry was not happy with the turn of events. He felt his spells fall off of him and knew he'd been exposed somehow. He went on the offensive, firing off three stunners in quick succession. The one who spoke French fell, but the German dove for cover. The girl put up a shield and returned fire as the two remaining men moved forward to join the fray.

The rest of the fight ended a moment later when a series of four stunners shot out, hitting the two men approaching and the woman squarely in the back. The final man, who'd spoken German, happened to sway just at the right time for the last spell to whiz past him. He looked between Harry and Emily before promptly turning tail and fleeing. Harry was shocked by Emily's performance, as he had doubts that he could have cast the fours spells so accurately at that speed.

With a jerk of his head telling Emily to follow him, Harry made to enter the passage to let them out into muggle Paris, but as he tapped his wand to the old oak door, the door rippled, and nothing happened. "Damn it, they've sealed the exit, too."

Reaching into his pocket, Harry was about to unveil some of the few things that he carried into the past with him. But he stopped as soon as her heard a silky voice from behind him.

"Well, well. We've been waiting for you."

The voice made Harry freeze. The was no hostility in the words, but the tone in which they were said sent shivers down his spine and nearly made him sick to his stomach. Turning about, he looked to see a masked man that stood in front of at least twenty other witches and wizards. Someone had called the cavalry.

The mask that adorned the speaker's face was ornate. It was silver, with a black rose etched on the upper left side. The man's hair was black, but it was far deeper a shade than Emily or Harry's. And despite how much Harry wracked his brain, his future knowledge told him nothing about this man.

"Well, I'd like for you all to wait a bit longer. We really should be taking our leave now."

The man nodded and Harry's mouth nearly fell open in shock. There was no way it would be that easy. "You are free to go. However, Miss Emily Riddle, your presence has been requested personally by Master Grindlewald."

"Me?" Harry watched as Emily pointed to her own face. This was not how he wanted things to be going. It was bad enough that Emily already embraced some of Grindlewald's ideals, it was another thing for the man to somehow be seeking her out. How was any of this even possible?

"Yeah, I'm not letting her just go with you. We're both leaving."

Emily looked to him and for a brief moment, Harry thought that she might actually refuse him. But after a moment, she nodded her head and turned around to look at the man in the mask. "Do extend my sincere regards to your master, but I'm afraid Harry and I have more pressing matters to attend to."

"Harry?"

The masked man questioned and both Emily and Harry had to suppress their condescending gaze. "Yes, my companion. Harry."

As Harry felt the man's eyes run up and down his body, he felt strange. "Odd, I was certain this man was of no name. Mr. Grindlewald can be patient, miss. Feel free to take your leave, but sooner or later, he will insist on meeting you. He has many things of great importance to speak with you about."

Emily nodded and grabbed Harry's hand, turning them back towards the door. Harry noticed her drawn wand and knew she was as wary as he was to be cursed in the back. Before Emily could open the door, however, the voice spoke to them again.

"We've been made aware of your purchase of a Maledict draught, young man."

Harry didn't even bother turning around. It wasn't something he cared if they knew about. Removing the trace was technically illegal, but it was rarely enforced as it was difficult to find that the trace was missing. Emily, however, paused, clearly curious about what Harry's purchase was for.

"Judging by the dark magic on your body, you plan on having Ms. Riddle remove your Lycanthropy with that potion. While she certainly has the power to make the attempt, you must be aware that the backlash will most assuredly kill her."

When Emily's hand began to crush his own in a vice like grip, Harry knew that keeping his plans so close to his chest might not have been the best idea. Though his body began shaking just at the thought of his next actions, he moved to pull Emily against his chest in a strong hug.

"Remember, you swore to trust me, Emily." Harry whispered quietly into her ear as he embraced her. It was only now that Harry realized that Emily was shivering just as much as he was, and her eyes were alight with a soft glow. It was not a foreign sight to Harry, as Voldemort's red eyes were often iridescent, but the gentle earthly color was far more disarming than the volatile ruby.

"I know." Her voice was breathless and light. "Everyone else... they're nothing but liars. They all want to turn me against you. I'm surrounded by people who want to hurt us, fools who think I won't protect what is mine. They will learn today." Though Emily's whispered words took him by surprise, but it was her hand gently cupping his face and her smile that had him immobile. The look of tender care almost took his breath away. Had anyone ever looked at him like this? Had even his own mother or father, gone long before their time, even gazed at him with such adoration?

When Emily turned to face the group of Grindlewald's best, Harry had to immediately question his belief in God. The situation all but demanded him to do so. Harry, as a wizard, was capable of incredible magical feats that made it difficult to believe in an all-powerful, but merciful being. But when presented with antithesis of the almighty, he found himself coming up without an answer. Surely there could be something else in the universe as Harry gazed at the devil herself.

It was on the morning of June 15th, 1943, when Emily Riddle brought Hell to the magical populace of Paris. In a single spell, a wave of flame like none he'd ever seen rose to block out his vision, coming in between the Vollstrecker and them. Cresting at a height of almost twenty meters, it stood far above anything else in the Magical Quarter of Paris. He couldn't hear a thing, perhaps nothing dared make a noise, and even breathing felt like he seared his lungs with super-heated air. It was far greater than a tsunami, and Harry could see the untold number of magical beasts that swarmed inside the wall of fire, for just a moment. A moment was all the time afforded to him and the hundreds of people inside the Magical Quarter to gaze into inferno before it collapsed, spilling countless monsters forth to devour anything they touched.

Fiendfyre was nothing new to Harry, he'd seen it many times and in several forms. Emily's curse seemed to be the standard kind, but in the scope of its sheer size and heat, it was far beyond anything any human being was capable of conjuring. It took precious little time for Harry realized he needed to stop her, mere seconds. But even in that time, Harry knew that the Vollstrecker would already be reduced to ash, and soon even that would disappear in the intense power of Emily's spell.

"Cancel it, Emily!" Harry shouted at her as loud as he could, and even though she was only a step away from him, he still wondered if his voice reached her ears. But even in her daze, she spoke to him.

"They'll never hurt us again. They got what they deserved."

Grabbing her shoulder, Harry wrenched her to face him violently. Roaring to her face, "But everyone else here in Paris doesn't deserve this. CANCEL YOUR MAGIC!"

Emily's face showed shock from his manhandling of her, but when Harry watched her face go through several intense emotions as she processed his words, he wondered if she'd make it through the day intact. The shock morphed into her usual haughty look. Then passed through disbelief as she looked back to the fire, and finally landed on fear. She looked back at him fearfully and simply said, "I need help. I can't do it alone. It's out of control."

Harry had already pulled out the Elder wand before she finished speaking. Pulling her hand, he wrapped her fingers around the smooth, aged wood. Embracing her from behind, he held onto, and guided, her hands as he spoke, "We need to act, now. Focus. Cancel it."

Fiendfyre was notoriously difficult to control once it began moving on its own. Canceling the magic was far more draining than actually conjuring the flames. Emily had to have been almost drained, and Harry knew his own magic paled in comparison to her. Even using the Elder wand, Harry was aware that they'd never succeed, they could only contain it until they ran out of magic. It was an impossible task. Hundreds would die, and all because he failed in his mission to take care of the broken girl he held so tightly to his chest.

But words like impossible only hold weight in the minds of the broken and Harry had not been so intensely focused, he'd have gone slack jawed as the flames began to recede suddenly. It was an arduous process and only after several minutes did Harry finally notice a familiar magic other than Emily's wild aura.

"Albus." His whisper went unnoticed by Emily as they continued to work together to quell the flames. Somehow, Dumbledore had gotten here and was helping them. Harry didn't have the time to wonder how, but with renewed vigor he kept forcing the flames to dissipate. Once the enormous wall had been reduced to barely over a meter in height, Harry finally got his chance to see his old mentor from the other side of the fire.

But Harry did not see the white hair of his headmaster, nor did he see the long brown hair of the younger version he'd recently come into contact with. But while the piercing blue eyes remained the same, the hair was a shocking pale blonde. It was when the blue eyes shifted in color, one becoming extremely light while the other becoming quite dark, Harry knew that the only thing familiar about this man's magic was the instrument he used to channel it. An exact replica that Harry and Emily held onto.

Harry's sensitivity to magic was better than the average magical person, but rather poor among people who studied magical force intently. When faced with powerful magic and a familiar focal point, it wasn't too surprising he'd come to the impossible conclusion that Albus Dumbledore had arrived to save the day. Harry looked beyond the man in front of him to see a magical barrier that surrounded the grouping of people behind the man, including the man with the rose mask. But it was clear that they were planning something as the man was already reorganizing their number with gestures and shouts.

They needed to leave, with little delay. Unclasping his left hand from Emily's iron grip on his Elder wand, he pulled out his original holly wand from his robes. He'd apparate them once the flames stopped being enough of a barrier to keep the Vollstrecker away, but he'd have to be quick. The powerful magic Emily conjured would certainly shatter the ward keeping them from leaving, and Harry was even slightly worried about the wards keeping the Quarter hidden from muggles, but he had bigger issues to fret about.

Right as the flames shrunk enough to be leapt over, Harry removed his other hand from Emily's grip on the elder wand to wrap around her waist. However, the man helping them quench the flames shouted to them, casually, as though he was a neighbor and Harry foolishly paused, genuinely curious to the man words.

"I hope to see you again, Ms. Riddle." Knowing that they were being let go, Harry focused on his destination to apparate them away. Right as he turned, the man spoke again.

"And you too, Mr. Potter."

Harry and Emily vanished with a crack as Gellert Grindlewald cleared the last of the flames with a smile.