DISCLAIMER: HP belongs to JKR. The storyline, all new characters, new character development, new developments are my intellectual property. Glorioux.
Correction
the MMV1, will be changed to T Rating. After this chapter, we will go back to where we were before the Gellert special.
Happy New Years
Gellert's Holidays
They had promised to make it for Christmas, many plans were in place, but he hadn't been able to see the children since the first time, he was bitter and angry. Although he had learned much, there were many things left to put in place. While they communicated whenever they could, it wasn't often enough. The 'doors' were too small, most times just large enough for a small piece of paper.
By now he really suspected Albus, and the anger and darkness were eating him up. Grindenwald' s anger dissipated when he remembered about his in-laws, may God the Creator, the one his parents worshiped, forgive him. At the end of the day, it was his fault.
He remembered the horrors while he waited .
After finding his family dead, he had gone mad. Angry, frustrated, and irrational, and without consulting with anyone, he gave the German Muggle Army a tip of about a large group of European refugees.
He gave them the location where they were hiding, in a certain state in England, so they could drop their fire balls. He told them that the refugees were of the type their armies sought to eliminate. He went to see them get ready, fully loaded to kill. Without their knowledge, he added silver and curses to all their weapons.
Said and done; and he had gone in after the German Muggle Army's fire balls had fallen from their steel birds. And with his most rabid followers he had finished them up; he alone had killed entire families, pregnant women and children, none were in their wolf form. It was done in minutes, it was a massacre, and he could still see the eyes of the children.
He was often sick when he thought of his evil deeds. He needed the Creator to forgive him for the massacre, because they had once treated him as a house member, and as he did with everyone who cared about him, he betrayed them.
He'd wanted them to hurt as he did. All his life he had come short, even with his precious wife, they gave her to him to help him learn about love, and what had he done?
How had he known so many Muggles, that part still troubled him? He also could not see himself murdering children maybe related to his dead children. He still didn't remember how he found the Muggle officers.
Maybe that is why he had been punished, but why on them, not on the children, he wanted to make it up to the Greybacks. He had heard from Albus about them. There were a few left, their land was intact but they had lost all their money; if could only find them and tell them the gift he had for them, if only.
He had hidden a lot of gold and treasure. He would save a portion for the children, and to pay reparations, there was a long list, he hadn't forgotten. He had destroyed many families, drove them to poverty, the list was long.
He wanted to give the survivors what was owed to them, he couldn't return their loved ones, but maybe give them a better life and to repair their estates. It was in the letter to his daughter, he wanted them to start the process. It shamed him to have destroyed so many.
In this gloomy state of mind he greeted Christmas day, after a meal can of potted meat and rolls that had come earlier during the day, he had a few of the biscuits and chocolate left from when the children visited him.
Someone or something was coming, maybe his family sending something? He had the letter ready inside the book he was reading. He always had letters ready. He sat on his cot and made sure books, pictures were all hidden; as always, he wrapped the old blanket around his shoulders and sat to wait.
When he saw Albus he grimaced.
"That's gratitude for you. I came to bring you Christmas cheer." Albus the Holy explained.
He sent his way a book, dinner rolls, goose and pudding along with a bottle of cider.
What Albus wanted, was confirmation of his wife's identity. Gellert knew, and would only would let him see her from behind, plus all the happy events and what not. Same with the children's faces, no more hints. Albus came several times, more often than ever, so at least he had company and got to torment Albus.
It was the the end,of December when Albus finally gave up.
"Gellert, I have a small basket for you for the New Year, and a bottle of Firewhisky. Drink it, it is clean. I won't be back, if you have something to tell me, say it. It is probably a lie, and you cannot back it up. Live your own lies and deceit. And as for your family, why should I dirty my hands with the blood of innocents. I value and protect every child's life as they were my own."
Grindenwald wanted to kill him for lying, how about Harry Potter he wanted to ask. Did you do something to me?
The next day was a blur; he was able to duplicate the bottle of Firewhisky using the cider. And he drank half the bottle after he tried several times to contact his flower, once or twice he could see her all blurry, maybe he was just drunk, a big group and the children were all gathered as if they were waiting for him.
He was sure it was his imagination. He fixed a cup of tea and tried a few more times, after two hours, he was exhausted and with the Firewhisky and the anger, he fell asleep in a few seconds frustrated by the effort.
Angels Sing - 30 December
He dreamed of his wife and the babies, they were all wearing their heavy winter clothes, all the boys and his flower, his Marguerie. They sat in the old carriage to go and visit the village and listen to the choirs.
His sister was there as well, as well as his wife's tall handsome and serious young brother, he was at Hogwarts and had come for the holidays. It was for the New Year's Eve mass.
He could smell the ginger biscuits, the butter and molasses and nuts, sweet pastries, milk chocolate, and the fresh smell of the children's hairs.
He could even feel several little kisses, and the songs were so beautiful. He opened his eyes, the room was bathed in a light glow, and around his bed there were five little angels, and they had open wings. What a nice dream.
"Grandfather, Opa, we cannot stay long, the door is very tiny," they were here, this wasn't a dream. He sat quickly and gathered the angels in his arms.
"No too tight," Mimi said," I think I am chocking." But she kept kissing and touching his face; she was being girlish, just like his Marguerite.
Her speech had vastly improved; they were all taller and had a healthy glow about them.
"We've been trying to come for two days, and the door wouldn't show up." Gellert was grateful they hadn't been able to come in. He had written in the letter how they needed to verify before they tried to come in, needed to make sure that Albus wasn't there.
"Grandpapa, my dad said today, the thingy up in the sky was crossing over, and maybe we had a chance." It was the little boy with glasses, Harry. He was growing like a weed; he appeared to be at least one head taller. Next time he would measure them to keep track. He wished he could preserve their smell, so divine.
Gellert had the girls on his knees and the boys stood leaning on his long folded legs. He loved all the small warm hands, and their soft bodies.
"We brought stuff, presents, we made some of them," Frankie informed him.
"You are all so beautiful, so big and tall." He told them.
"Yes we all growned, and my dad is teaching us a lot of things. We are learning martian arts." Harry told him.
"Not Martian, that is a plantet, it is martial arts." Hermione informed them.
"Not plantet, a planet," Draco corrected. Grindenwald kept chuckling. He wished he had a pensive so he could watch this again and again. His hands were on their hair, and he held Evie close to his heart.
He wanted to remember their feel, their soft hair, their small little hands and bodies. The boys were now standing behind him and hugging him. Martial arts, were some sort of Muggle fighting arts from the Far East, their magical born had a form of the art. He had read about it.
"You have been drunk," Mimi informed him, her voice severe. "Grandmother, Oma, says men drink too much."
The boys chuckled, "We also drink lots of lemonade, and a fizzy Muggle drink." They told him as if they understood.
"Yes sweet princess, but I won't do it if it makes you upset." Gellert told the bossy little thing.
"It is fine Opa, you are very old, and Draco's Pépère says it is okay if you are old." Frankie advised.
They were all dressed in angel robes and had wings on, probably from Christmas, they were all so beautiful. The platinum blond, he must be a Malfoy.
"Son, have you ever heard of Serpens Malfoy?" He asked Draco.
"Sure, he is Pépère, and Grand'Mere. We learned French and are going back." Draco told him.
"Tell him that I send him my regards, my hellos." He told Draco. Gods, Serpens was alive, the difference between one who had lived a right life and him.
That reminded Gellert, "Here take this, and Mimi, would you please tell your mother to make something for each of you with this, you must keep with you please."
He had taken apart an old jumps and had made long cords for them. He had put a location charm, though probably wasn't lasting, and also gave her a very long letter for his daughter, and one for each of his grandchildren.
Hermione had an eye on the wall and was upset, "It is getting smaller, we have to go, Grandmother sent you this," Hermione took off a rucksack that she was carrying helped by a levitation spell, "All the food is in a big thermos. We love you and must go. Read the letters, Daddy says they are very important. He might just show up. He says, be always ready. We love you." They all repeated the same. He noticed two boxes in the corner.
'Wait, we forgot, "the children surrounded him. They all held hands and Hermione touched him with his free hand, "The Pixies have a present for you, I figured this out, you ready pixies?" The boys all nodded their heads.
Without words, they lifted their hands up in the air, and went around him until Hermione was by his right hand, "Hold my hand and hold his hand," she pointed at Draco who was at the end of the line.
"Quickly everyone closes the eyes." He obeyed and could not believe it, they were showing him the family reunited in a room in front of a Christmas tree, they were real, he looked around the room, and it was as if he was there for an instance. They saw him as well, and his daughter ran to him, but he was gone.
"Open the eyes." He didn't but understood time was running out, he had a lot of information to digest later. His eyes filled with tears.
"Now everyone sends the pixie light inside grandfather Opa, and we kiss him goodbye," He was blinded by a warm sun light. His body grew warm, and a feeling of contentment, long gone, ran through him.
"Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year," each one of them wished the same.
As they kissed him, the earlier feeling of waves of warmth came back in troves, and he had visions of the celebration going some place far away. But most surprising of all, was the feeling of light shinning on dark corners of his soul, and a feeling of hope filling holes and ugly places. He also saw another, place, another group celebrating, but it was not clear. The ones there seemed to see him. It was but a couple seconds.
In less than two minutes they were gone, after Eve screamed wanting to stay "No, no, no, my Opa, I stay. I love you Opa." She was hollering on her way out, and her screams saying that she loved him, made him smile with renewed joy. she reminded him of his sister when she was that age.
Two large size packages on top of metal contraptions with wheels, were left near the corner; as well as one large blanket tied with a string to pull. There was a lot of food in tins, a tin opener, biscuits, dry bread, and potions to grow new teeth, health potions, and toiletry items.
There were books on events of the Wizarding and Muggle words, a Muggle device to read time, and pick up the time from a satellite, binoculars, they would come in handy, a Swiss Army knife. When he touched them he could feel they were magically enhanced. He put dampers around them with a wandless. He also found warm under-things, toiletries, several small gifts, tools, books of fiction, mittens, and socks.
Inside the blanket, there were a woolen knitted cap, with matching scarf, gloves and a feather pillow, plus one bottle of fine cognac and one bottle of plum schnaps. He kept a few things, and as he was doing it he found a wand, his wand, his wand, he kissed it. He hid the rest right away, many he shrank to nearly pin size.
There was a second album with many pictures of the children. In several they were around a wolf, not a werewolf, a shifter, who was it? His heart did a flip, but after looking at the face, he couldn't recognize him. He wasn't a Greyback, that was for certain, and he also noticed that the wolf shifter was always holding the children's hands. There was also a large black dog.
The wolf, in one picture, was with the dog, who was converting into a man; he was an Animagus. They both were in pictures with his granddaughters. Ah, the young wizards were suitors, he wished he had been a good Wizard, a good human, and he could be there with them. The Animagus, ah, yes, he was a Black, that was for sure. He reminded him of, hmm, it would come to him.
Strangely he could still hear the people talking, adults asking the children about him. He could also hear voices in German, some he seemed to recognize.
He suddenly felt sick to his stomach and ran to the toilet. He had a bad feeling about it and decided not to look. He fire his wand and a screech rose from the toilet, flushed the toilet, never looking, but he had felt them coming up his throat and wanted to scream. He knew it, it was the living evil inside of him, but once he rinsed his mouth, wellbeing suffused him.
He felt clearer, better. It felt as if all were gone. He sat with the new pictures. It was his Helena-Marguerite, his wife, and she was so pretty, so very pretty, and then his heart did another flip. It wasn't his wife, it was a picture of a granddaughter. They were all in danger, he had to tell them.
He needed to read the letters, Mimi, his pixie had told him that she had figured out something, right at that moment he was able to see and hear, and felt them as well; one, no, two of the women were pregnant, he just couldn't see the faces. Then...they were gone. Had either Mimi or one of them, transmitted to him? Or was it one of the things they sent him, he needed to read.
He was so happy. He wanted to open everything; yes, this going to be a Happy New year. It was going to be a good year. As for Albus, his family needed to be involved, and they needed to decide what to do. A little role playing didn't hurt anyone. He just couldn't envision how much role playing, was in his future.
He ran to his cot and opened the rucksack. Then, he went to the small table and set the beautiful china plates, crystal drinking glasses, a silver setting, a little tablecloth, a small vase with a rose, a stick of cinammon, holly and a sprig of pine, a red candle, and a large picture drawn by the children.
The children were drawn around a tree, with two tiny owls, two very large dogs, five smaller dogs, three house elves, a wolf, and a black dog standing at each side. There were poorly written words under, "We love you and Merry Xmas and Happy Year! FROM: Mimi, Draco, Harry, Frankie and Evie. Bad Santa stayed away. XXOO." He wondered what that was, and what was the bad Santa reference, he would ask. He read it over and over as tears of joy kept coming down.
He pulled out a half-liter of champagne, a thermos with coffee and one with tea. The thermos-tins had all the trimmings of a big feast, roasted pork, and a portion of goose, both in sauces, one with german wild mushrooms. He found small roasted potatoes, vegetables, a small fresh salad, bread, a peach, and a pudding with small strawberries, a slice of cake, a piece of stolen, two cheeses, butter, salt, pepper, and a small bottle of Rhine white wine along with bottle of soda water. He laid all there. The finest meal of his life.
And the last present, there was a frame. A hand painted portrait of his wife and their children, long ago, painted from memory by his flower, he was a silly man; he like the name Marguerite, his wife, his sister, and his daughter. He chuckled, his wife preferred Helena, and he knew it, but liked to tease her. He stood it along with the holiday picture painted by the children.
He cried and prayed, he promised never to kill in anger. He would forgive Albus, he was a changed man. He picked up the Christmas book by Dickens. Created a very tiny Lumox and read. Yes, that was his story indeed. He knew his days there were numbered. The Gollum was ready, in his pocket, pin size.