...
Disappointment, after disappointment was all that went through his head as he stared at the family tree above the fireplace. His aching legs, and arms were far from his mind as he contemplated the life he'd lived.
You have my vocal support, and if it actually held a chance of helping you, I am sure I would've expected something out of your ambitions.
Of course, his support would help... Had helped. Millions around the world had believed in the man. Even more, had been terrified of him. His vocal support for anything was... Tantamount to a law on both sides. A warning to be heeded. A cry to rally around.
Gellert Grindelwald's magicless words had done more for history than his spells had ever managed.
He had been a living legend and when his infamy died down, he had turned into a myth.
The Dark Lord he was called for what he did. The Dark Lord he was remembered as... Mudbloods and Halfbloods used him to scare their own children into sleep... The fear he'd engrained had long since been passed down and nurtured into an undeniable truth.
That Gellert Grindelwald was the most dangerous wizard in the world.
Purebloods on the other hand had used him as an ideology. As proof that success, no matter what one may strive for, was always possible.
The man that had split the world in half, and forever guaranteed that the muggle vermin would never co-exist with them as equals.
His support was akin to having a mountain behind one's back.
Alas...
It wasn't his support the man had referred to as not being enough when he'd given it.
When he'd looked at him with pity in his eyes that fateful day that he'd lived up to his promise and given him what he'd strived for. What he'd sacrificed for.
The man had known that it was all in vain. That in the end, Arcturus would fail- Not because Grindelwald's support was worthless, but because Arcturus Black simply did not have it in him to truly succeed.
To truly create a pureblood world for his kind.
Gellert Grindelwald had likely known from the very day he'd met him... From the very moment the man had heard his heartfelt plea and shrugged off his acceptance.
He had once thought it hubris on the man's part... Yet, hubris would not have led to the world he'd predicted. The world he'd warned him off would come to pass.
All Arcturus ever wanted, had fallen apart... But it was not Grindelwald who was to blame. It was himself.
Grindelwald had lived up to his side of the bargain with ease- Despite his arrest, despite Arcturus's own hand in it under the man's orders... He'd lived up to the last letter of their deal.
It was the very fact that he hadn't lied, nor coerced, nor so much as told a half-truth- But absolute, open honesty despite the ramifications of what it may bring- It was that quality that made him fulfill his own end of the bargain.
Breaking a deal with a devil... With death... With curses was a terrible idea, with untold repercussions. Yet, he would break any of those before he broke his word to the man who had set the world onto its knees as if it were an unruly child, over the simple idea that muggles and magics could co-exist.
Yet for all that- Arcturus's side of the deal hadn't meant much to him... Simply because of the strangeness of it.
...I will have a grandson in the future... I would like for you to prepare him for my world...
The idea... The very thought of helping raise a descendant of the man was an honor beyond almost anything he could've comprehended at the time- Particularly because it was far after Gellert had proven the worth of his blood.
Yet, the strangeness of the request itself was... For one, the man hadn't had a child yet when he'd brokered such a deal- For the other, Grindelwald's idea of 'preparing' was... At best, insane, even by his family's standards. At worst, relied heavily on pure fortune.
Yet... It came to pass all along. The man had somehow predicted the course of over fifty years- When he'd first seen a sign on the Hogwarts admissions, of the very same name, on its own, the man had elected to hand his grandson so long ago... Of the proof that the woman he'd helped a decade ago had truly been the man's daughter- Oh how he'd kicked himself when he'd realized he'd lost the opportunity to wed her blood to his family!
Still... His family at the time had been under pressure... He'd been rather busy preparing funeral speeches for his short-sighted kin- By the third one he'd simply replaced the name on a previous speech.
The woman hadn't named herself personally anyway, so it truly was not his own fault and he had only helped her because she was a pureblood married to blood traitors- She had wormed her way into his sense of righteousness with ease, and it was only after she'd died that he'd remembered his deal with Grindelwald.
That he'd remembered the name he'd been given.
And with that memory, came the repercussions of interfering with his plans.
The admissions list however had proved to him, beyond a doubt, that the babe he'd arranged that orphanage for... Truly was magical! And that he had, at last, fulfilled his end of the bargain... Had at last been allowed the opportunities it promised.
He'd felt a vitriol sense of life fill him. A sense of nostalgia as he stared at it in shock, in laughter, in utter elation.
Another passage in his life.
Another act to see.
Another chance.
Another... Anything after his family's fall had been a very welcome change.
And then the fear kicked in. The fear of the man in question.
The man who'd known the war he'd started was doomed to fail, at least in the eyes of the rest. The man who'd told him that even the best support Arcturus could've asked for, and had asked for, would not help bring his lifelong ambition to fruition.
The man who'd read the passing of time, and saw it all before the clock itself had clicked towards it.
And he'd done it all... With thinly veiled disinterest- As if it wasn't worth his time. His effort.
As if breaking the very boundaries of what the treacherous future could've been, simply wasn't a challenge for him.
No, he'd seen it for what it truly was... A simple achievable task, and nothing more.
A rehearsal... A first year's test...
Childs. Play.
He had been right when he'd told him that his support wouldn't matter too much.
No.
The only thing that could've brought Arcturus's lifelong ambition together, was Gellert leading it himself. And Arcturus had been far too full of his own hubris to let such a world come to be by anyone else's hand.
His own Black Family pride... Had doomed it from the start.
He had thought he had struck gold when Gellert had offered him his support and for such a trivial reward... And yet, here he stood the lone Black, filled with regret and what-ifs clouding every choice he ever made.
And Gellert? Gellert had a legacy to be proud of despite the sheer upheaval he'd thrown and worse, his very name had a future left.
Still... Even if he'd somehow ignored his own pride and asked him to lead it, he doubted the man would've anyway.
He simply did not care for it.
He simply did not believe in Pureblood Supremacy- And he was the only wizard that Arcturus couldn't blame for it in truth.
Most ignored it out of ignorance, denial, or hate. Gellert had ignored it because even pure blood wasn't enough to make anyone compare to him.
To the man? Pure, half, or mud... All magical beings were barely a step above the muggles they scorned and hid from.
The only potential he'd seen in them, was how well they obeyed his orders.
It had taken Arcturus decades before he'd learned that, it hadn't been until his age had reached the seventies before he'd realized that even his own family barely had any true potential to them. And Grindelwald had been younger than him in his prime when he'd figured it out.
But... There was a chance left still.
Gellert, more than anything, cared about one simple matter. That no matter what may happen, his kind would never be brought down to the levels of those without magic, no matter which way.
He refused to allow the rabble to consider themselves equal. Despite the fact that he barely saw even magicals as naught more than stepping stones- He gave them the acknowledgment of being born in the same world as him, and it was that right alone that allowed him to put up with magical society, even if he sneered at their weakness.
His only request for his descendent, was to make sure that the boy grew up feeling the same way- To make sure that no Grindelwald would ever see a muggle as anything more than an ant. That so long as that held true... He did not truly care which path his descendent took. And rather, if his reading of the man so long ago was still accurate, he was curious about what it would be.
Would the boy be as powerful as him? As resourceful as him? Would he change the world to his whims as he did?
They were the thoughts of a man who had lived a full life. A man who could die without regrets.
How Arcturus had envied him back then... How he envied him even now.
He had been a man who had lived his life exactly how he'd sought to- Without consideration for anything, or anyone else.
The world had lived around him.
He snorted as he truly considered it.
Even Gellert Grindelwald's own prison had been made by his own hand.
Arcturus on the other hand was free. Free and alive to do what he wanted... And yet he felt far more imprisoned when compared.
But there was a chance yet still.
There was a chance!
He stood up out of his own seat, a glimmer of a smile on his face.
Even if the boy was a disappointment in every sense of the word, his very name was enough alone in truth.
A Pureblood Orphan at that... Why the very start of his story was one to remember!
The boy was already akin to a miracle.
Anything else? Power? Potential? Even a touch of the skills his grandfather had possessed?
It would make for a landslide of a victory, of that he was sure!
A Grindelwald at the helm... He couldn't help the smile on his face at the thought of it.
...And speaking of certain thoughts at that...
Oh, the things had run through his head when he'd first heard of Greengrass inquiring about a child with a single name- Particularly that name... Most of it involved a tad hint of fear that his chance would pass him by- Made worse when he'd heard confirmation from his own elf that... That the blasted man had taken a Grindelwald to a merlin-damned muggle theatre!
Oh the fury that had befallen him! It reminded him of the time his own grandson had elected to bring home a... A...
He visibly held in the urge to recall that shameful memory!
He took in a deep breath.
No.
He would not give a Greengrass of all people a chance to sweep something out of his hands, or worse corrupt it! And to think he had done such a thing after he'd sent him that warning! The proof that the man was biting off far more than he can chew...
Yet, on the off chance it wasn't enough... He simply couldn't risk losing the advantage he held...
Cyrus Greengrass had bit his teeth onto a philosopher's stone and he didn't have a damned clue!
No one did.
No one except him.
He walked closer to the fireplace, and like a true member of the Black family, prepared to crash a party he hadn't been invited to.
It was time for the Black Family to gain another member- And this time, he very much doubted the insanity that followed every one of his blood was going to ruin his plans!
And all he had to do... Was convince an orphan with nothing to his name, and every reason to leave his surroundings for an adoption by the greatest family in the country.
...How hard could that be?
And at the thought of that, as he swept his hands onto the floo powder, he felt a distinct sense of... Nostalgia for some reason?
He supposed it was apt?
It was certainly the second time he'd placed his hopes on a Grindelwald... Yes... It was probably just that.
...
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