Thinking of wrapping up this series soon. I have decided to skip over the entire section of the Walk and the duel between Albus and Gellert. The movies already did it more than enough justice. I cannot do more.
After the Walk
"You did so well, little one," Newt coaxed the Qilin back into his suitcase. The open air of the Eyrie was too cold for such a young fawn. She bleated a half-hearted protest before hopping down the stairs, just as he was all but besieged by ICW representatives. The Dumbledores had made use of the congratulations for Santos and the flurry of Alliance sympathizers taken into custody to leave the scene. Anton Vogel was in disgrace after the fawn died in his hands. He was being cuffed by Theseus Scamander before being turned over to ICW Aurors. There would be an investigation into the German Ministry of Magic. The corruption had reached into its very core.
The representatives of the Chinese ministry, Liu Tao among them were laying out the dead Qilin for purification. The beast would be brought home to be lain to rest with honour. Spells were chanted and flower petals scattered from their wands over the little corpse. Royal yellow silk was conjured forth to serve as a shroud. Perhaps there would even be a golden shrine erected over its grave. For now, they let him be. Soon, they would remember the living fawn, write to the ICW and British ministry to seek its return.
The newly Supreme Mugwump was speaking with an ICW spokesman. Perhaps discussing the odd situation of a Muggle in one of the most sacred centres of magic. The MACUSA envoy was also in on the conversation. Newt hoped his friends would not suffer undue punishment. There was still the allegation of his involvement in the assassination attempt at the Candidates' Dinner. The ICW still needed to clear his name. It must be clear to all that Grindelwald was behind the events in Berlin. Eulalie Hicks was being interviewed by an Auror. Newt understood she had been caught up in the incident too.
For now, Queenie fussed over her beloved Jacob. The man seemed to be wincing a little from being thrown against the stony ground during the Curcio. Yusuf Kama had quietly slipped away into the crowd. Newt wondered if he would see him again. Bunty had disappeared to rid herself of the shawls and trappings of her disguise. Were it not for her voice and the suitcase, he would never have recognized her among the Silent Sisters.
"The Mooncalves need milking soon and the Leucrotta has a toothache," Bunty emerged from a nearby doorway back in her sensible jacket and skirt ensemble. "One of Teddy's pups is missing. You might want to try the occamy nestbox. They are nesting again and wouldn't let me near."
His assistant proceeded to update him on the status of the suitcase's inhabitants. A magizoologist's work is never done. At least everyone was safe. The phoenix flew overhead, shedding embers. Newt glanced over to the bridge he flew over. Credence or Aurelius was bent over with his head on his knees while his father rubbed his back. Professor Dumbledore exchanged a few words with Aberforth before father and son Disapparated away. Poor man had been through a lot.
Aurelius was dying. Newt's eyes met Albus'. The older wizard shook his head. They would not let the Aurors question his nephew or detain him. Not with so little time left.
"He got away, didn't he?" Newt asked as his professor approached him.
"Perhaps." The red-haired man held up the shattered vial on its sliver chain.
When he saw that deadly curse flung at his long-lost son, he had just reacted. As his brother had. Aberforth did not know he was capable of such a powerful magic until he felt it surge through him – a rush of longing, a desire to protect the one he loved. His spell merged with his brother's. Together, they deflected the Curse threatening his boy.
He never thought it possible. When he saw his son in the flesh, it took everything he had to hold himself back from embracing him. He has his mother's eyes…
He had always thought himself weak. Alex Rosier had called him out numerous times for that, up to that final duel that saw him bleeding into the Seine. After the Paris, all traces of the Rosier sisters went cold. The fearsome lioness Alex would likely have been swept up in the storm that break the Monsigneurs' power over France. Her younger sisters would have fled. He believed that his sweetheart and their baby were dead. Except the baby survived. Their son lived, by all accounts a miserable life, abused, misused and unloved. If only Aberforth could make it all up to him.
The boy almost collapsed from the exertion of the Portkey Albus had left for them. They were in the Hog's Head Inn with snowflakes still clinging to their clothes, or was it ash?
"Are you alright, my boy?"
"I'm fine… S-sorry, sir…" Aurelius stuttered as Aberforth helped him to a chair.
The boy's hands were icy-cold. There were beads of swear on his brow as if from pain. Aberforth saw a dark shadow shimmer on the back of his son's hand before disappearing up his cuff. Obscurial. He had seen the same symptoms on Ariana towards the end.
"It's alright, my son. I'll go whip up some dinner. Will lamb stew do?"
"As you wish, sir…"
Aberforth frowned slightly before retreating to the kitchen where a pot of lamb stew sat under Stasis. He did not know how long they had left to them, but he was going to make sure his boy was comfortable and above all, loved. As if that could make up for all those long years apart.
Gellert Grindelwald took stock of his situation. The blood pledge had shattered. They had witnessed it. Why did he still feel that twist in his core when he thought of him? After throwing himself off the Eyrie, he had Apparated himself back to a hut in the foothills where a Portkey had been waiting. Vinda soon joined him with a pop. Two more acolytes Apparated in before he gave the order for everyone to take hold of the cartwheel and activate the Portkey to take them to Nurmengard. The rest of the acolytes would need to fend for themselves.
"My lord?" Vinda peered into his study, her features an inscrutable mask. "Will you be joining us for dinner?"
"Have Blinky send up a tray," he replied curtly.
The betrayal by Queenie was all but expected. Witches were silly fools when it came to love. Once Albus got that Muggle in, her loyalty would have wavered. He only regretted not killing buffoon before Santos stepped in. Yusuf Kama's betrayal was a surprise. Was he a spy all this while? He had taken away his reason to seek vengeance, wiped out memories of his sister…
Gellert glanced askew at the Elder Wand in his hand. Had the Hallow failed him? When did he lose its loyalty?
New York City. A Revelio, a Binding spell. That meddlesome magizoologist in Albus' pocket and that annoying Auror wannabe. No, it could not be. He twirled the Wand. It had worked for him well enough after New York. Maybe Queenie Goldstein lied. Maybe Yusuf Kama had other reasons for acting against him besides Leta.
Aurelius – that betrayal smarted the most. He had given the boy so much, built him up from the snivelling waif he was to the wizard he had become – capable of standing up to Albus Dumbledore. He had treated the boy kindly, educated him in magic.
Ah, but in the end, he was nothing but a tool to you, a voice accused. A weapon to be shaped. A knife to be honed, used, and finally discarded. They had spent many afternoons in this same library. Aurelius eagerly devouring the knowledge of the magical world, its norms, customs…. He had guided Aurelius through the finer points of wand-holding during duels. It had been worrisome whenever his health started flagging thanks to the parasite within. Never more would Aurelius call his phoenix from the balcony of his library.
The bloody bird was gone too. No doubt with his chosen master.
"You must remember, Aurelius… Muggles are no better than animals… They need a firm hand…"
It had been a lazy summer day where he was relaxing on the balcony. Aurelius was still lanky, but he had lost that waifish look. His back was straighter now, shoulders squared back instead of hunched over. Aurelius was watching the birds fly over the castle. Among them his pet phoenix.
"You cannot trust a Muggle, my boy… Not even the little ones… Too dangerous…" A distressed look came over the younger wizard's face then.
"Mother used to say the same about witches… I wonder how Modesty's doing… She stuck up for me when M-mother g-gets angry…" There had been that waver of doubt Grindelwald had failed to quash.
"Call your feathered friend. Perhaps he might like some summer berries…" Grindelwald smoothly changed the topic. The house-elves had left a modest selection of light sandwiches and berries for their tea.
Where had he gone wrong? With Aurelius, with Albus… He had been so sure he would win them over to his Greater Good. Albus had co-authored the vision by his side as teenagers. He had been so sure Albus loathed Muggles for what they did to his sister, his family… That same twist at the thought of Albus.
It was a slap in the face reading about the new Muggle Protection Act being championed by none other than his former comrade. He tested the Elder Wand, a severing hex on the drapes. The elves would repair them when they sent up his dinner.
Silverfoot took a swig of her brandy. Seeing that young man had been a nasty shock for her. He resembled her long dead sisters so much. It had taken all her self-control and occulumency skills to get through the rest of the ceremony without causing a stir. Former Headmistress Delance would love for her to crumble before the whole of Ilvermorny.
Credence Barebones. Aurelius Dumbledore. Pah! Her sisters would turn in their graves if they knew what had befallen her nephew. They had planned for a kind, well-placed wizarding family for the boy. To nurture him, nourish his magic… Ilvermorny to receive him when he turned eleven. She had believed him dead along with the aunt tasked to send him to the Americas.
So much promise. Such a waste it was all stifled to form an Obscurus, then twisted into a weapon for the likes of that upstart Grindelwald. Fool did not have even a tenth of the power of the Monseigneurs or the Council.
"Monseigneur Silverfoot is leaving now?" Guillaume asked as he tipped his arrows. His spines rattled with unspoken disapproval. It was late. The other residents of Ilvermorny would be partaking of the feast until the wee hours, perhaps even till dawn.
"Oui, mon ami," Silverfoot fastened her grey cloak and raised the hood. The Pukwudgie nodded even as he looked askew at the brandy flask in her hand. The thunderbird feather wand was crackling in its holster.
"My wand, she's been acting up…" SIlverfoot offered as an explanation. "I need a specialist wandmaker…" The famed wandmaker Shikoba Wolfe had perished in the flu epidemic that swept through several years back. It would not be unusual for a wizard owning one of her custom wands to seek out a specialist for wand-maintenance if they acted up as thunderbird feather cores often did. Jenny Graves would be able to adjust the bindings on her wand - or remove them altogether.
"The canoe is under the aspens. Do try to return it in one piece…"
A little plantation house in the bayou down south beckoned. She wondered if any of the Graves had news of their missing healer or La Malinche.
They had pulled it off – Jacob and Queenie were to be married under special license issued by MACUSA. Tina supposed that after having the proof of their undying love for each other broadcast across the globe. It would be a mark against MACUSA for denying the lovebirds. However, the license came with conditions – Queenie and her children were to retain her maiden name of Goldstein for all official documents. They would not have a legal marriage certificate.
Theseus Scamander had suggested that they hold the wedding in Britain, where the laws did not forbid unions with No-Majs. The British ministry could legally issue a certificate in such cases so long as the ceremony was conducted on British soil and overseen by a representative of the Ministry. However, the couple declined. New York City was their home and Queenie wanted to be married there, even if it was a small ceremony held out of Jacob's bakery.
With her recent promotion to Head of the Auror Office and the necessary paperwork to wrap up a ritual murder investigation involving squib children, Tina knew she was running late for her sister's wedding. And her as maid-of-honour too. They had spoken after Queenie returned to New York. There had been apologies and tears. Yet Queenie declined to move back to Mrs Esposito's boarding house. She roomed with a friend from Ilvermorny who had a spare room to let – for the two months before her wedding. She intended to move into Jacob's flat above the bakery. Too much had changed in the intervening years for them to go back to the way things were. Tina was also looking for a smaller flat now that she was alone.
Alone? For how long? Her heart stuttered as she spotted Newt standing outside the bakery. He looked so handsome by the streetlamp's glow. It had been too since they saw each other despite the many owls exchanged after Bhutan.
"Did you miss me?" she asked as she strode up to him.
Severine had hung on long enough to deliver a daughter. Bedivere wished the child and her father well before catching an International Portkey to New Orleans. Jenny would likely yell at him for making them worry but he would deal with her wrath later, after he fulfilled his promise. He ignored the drone of the crickets and entered his townhouse. The potions lab in the cellar was as he had left it. He dropped the desiccated finger into the mortar and applied the pestle until it was a fine powder. This he quickly mixed with toad's blood and spelled it into a vial.
He would need to wait for the moon phases to align before adding the final ingredients and dosing Lenora. The initial reports from St Marie di Lourdes indicated her condition was stable. The bones of a necromancer. Bedivere put aside the potion and summoned a glass of bourbon to toast his dead brother of heart.
Author's Notes:
It is a wrap. Bedivere has returned to the States to keep his part of the bargain to Galahad and help his comatose apprentice recover. The Princes will remain in Britain for Severus Snape to emerge from their line many years later. He is likely named for his grandma Severine in this fic-verse. The Prince aunt likely insisted on an English name like Eileen for his ma. I think I have covered most of the loose ends for this fic.
