Gellert's eyes were drooping by the time the sun rose, beaming through the open curtains and forcing him to squint; dangerous, it was easier for his eyes to drift shut when they were already half way there.

He blinked, jolting upright when the door opened, terrified that he'd fallen asleep for the whole six hours until Berg returned.

He hadn't.

Hermione burst through. She must have only just arrived, magically dressed in a clean, dusky grey gown but her hair was still a tangle of wild curls and she was bare foot. Flighty trailed behind her, brandishing hair pins and a brush.

His witch skidded to a stop, wide eyes taking in the room, Gellert and his unmoving mother.

'Did the surgery succeed?' Hermione asked, voice small. The acrid smell of the muggle sleeping potion Berg had given his mother burned at the back of his throat when he responded.

'Yes. We only finished a couple of hours ago. Berg says she'll sleep through until lunch, at least.'

'Oh, thank Circe.' Hermione sagged a little, then took a deep breath and became Lady Gorlois again. She swept to the desk, hesitated when she realised the only quill remaining was the customised self-inking quill she'd made for the matriarch, then picked it up and began scribbling down a list on a piece of parchment, talking as she wrote. 'We need to prevent infection. Flighty, you'll be assisting with Lady Grindelwald's care until further notice – I trust you to care for the most important task, I can fend for myself for now. This room needs to be cleaned; I want soiled cloth burned, the sheets and her clothing changed immediately and subsequently every twelve hours. She'll need to be given a sponge bath at the same interval and her hair washed every two days. The floor, walls and surfaces must be cleaned with vinegar and lavender oil every morning and the windows opened to air the room during daylight and if the night is mild. I want a basin of warm water and lavender at the door and hands must be washed before coming into the room.'

Hermione's elf, who had at first seemed devastated by the temporary dismissal, seemed to have realised the magnitude of the orders it had been given and took the list of instructions proudly.

'Flighty be doing!' The elf disappeared with a pop and Hermione turned to Gellert next, instructing him to wash and sleep. He blinked and obeyed, feeling somewhat like he'd just had the rug swept out from underneath him. He shouldn't have been surprised; Hermione was a force of nature and her almost terrifying ability to compartmentalise her own feelings and remain the imperturbable leader was only growing more impressive as she aged. Gellert often felt like a bumbling child next to her.

His thoughts felt bogglingly deep, considering how the excitement of the last day and night. Had it only been the morning before he had been heading to London to meet his Aunt Baghilda?

It felt like he'd only closed his eyes for a moment when he was being shaken awake again by Beastie, although he knew from the purplish light that it must be evening. Wakefulness flooded in, then, when he realised how much could have changed whilst he was asleep. His mother should have awoken at lunch time, which had long passed.

'Mistress Hermione calls for Master, urgently.' Beastie informed him, and Gellert was out of the door before the elf had even finished talking, still in his pyjamas.

He burst into his mother's rooms with enough force to throw the heavy door back against the wall behind it. He stood, breathing like an erumpent in heat, in the middle of the otherwise calm room, facing a puzzled and slightly concerned Berg and his unconscious mother.

'What's wrong?' Berg sounded tense, and Gellert could hardly blame him.

'I don't know? I thought it must be here… Hermione called for me urgently.'

'In the office.' Berg informed him, expression becoming even more troubled, 'she only left an hour ago, if that.'

Gellert nodded, rushing from the cottage door to the lighthouse and jumping up the steps two at a time.

Hermione was not doing anything.

That was Gellert's first observation upon entering the office at the top of the building. That was almost a worry in itself; Hermione was always doing something, if not two things.

Her hair still hadn't been done up and it fell like a waterfall around her fingers, pooling around her elbows on the desk and entirely obscuring her downturned face.

'What is it?' He asked, heartrate already picking up. He already knew she'd received bad news, and he was beginning to wonder just how much more they could take. She shifted slightly, detangling one hand from her hair to push a note towards him, then changed her mind at the last moment and picked it up instead, rising to her feet and sweeping her hair back behind her shoulder with her other hand.

'Did you know that excommunicating someone from the coven doesn't actually break the coven bond?' She asked, facing the window. The letter crinkled as she twisted it in her hands. 'Severing a bond that abruptly is hugely damaging to the magical core, so the bonds are instead made dormant with the expectation that given time, they will wither and die of their own accord.'

'It makes sense.' Gellert offered cautiously. Then he suddenly realised what she was getting at; he glanced down again and recognised the green shade of the cracked seal. 'Freidl?' He confirmed.

'And Hawdon.' Hermione answered grimly. 'It took them this long to make the connection – we must have thrown them off with the Polyjuice. Albert Friedl – you remember their son? The weedy boy with the stupid tights?'

The description was both apt and amusing if the situation weren't so gloomy, but Hermione continued before he could tell her that he remembered the boy.

'He's a year younger than you, but two years behind at Durmstrang. He hasn't forgiven us for the false accusation and… he's taken it to the papers. We were asked to give a statement last night but, well, we missed the owl.'

'Oh.' Gellert wasn't quite sure what to say. An odd numbness was creeping through his limbs and he quickly sat in the closest chair. 'What do we do?'

'I don't know.' Hermione admitted, propping her elbows against the sill and dropping her head into her hands again. 'I… the Dullahan visited me last night.'

'The what?' Gellert was utterly thrown by the sudden change in topic.

'The Dullahan. He had a warning for me… he said it was advice, but well… he's unseelie, isn't he?'

'Pardon?' Gellert was utterly lost. Hermione sighed, shaking her head.

'Nothing.' It didn't sound like nothing. It sounded like Hermione had fought off an unseelie creature overnight. 'We should release a statement; confirm the rumours before they start thinking we're all dead. We need to make sure that the lack of coven is not enough to remove our oversight of the country's legal system, we need to make sure they can't use this as an excuse to get rid of us.'

'We could do it now?' Gellert offered. 'Form a new coven.'

Hermione paused, cocking her head.

'No… You, Me, Anneken, Berg. That's four.'

'Anneken's husband; Krum, Mareike, Yannik. Eight. There's some twins at school, Jori and Veli Mustonen, you met them at the harvest ritual... five years ago?'

'No.' Hermione shook her head in firm denial. 'I won't make the mistake of bonding to someone I don't trust.'

'So what?' Gellert demanded, jumping to his feet and pacing the length of the room, swerving behind the glittering mirror disk, turning around it and looping back to the desk. Hermione looked utterly firm in her decision and Gellert found he couldn't argue it. 'We'll have to look abroad to find suitable members; there's nobody else at Durmstrang. What about Hogwarts? I know you hate Dumbledore, but I met his son in Godric's Hollow; he's powerful and ambitious – I could sway him, if necessary.'

'His son?' Hermione scowled. 'No. We're talking about the same Dumbledore. He would be our age now.'

Gellert blinked, baffled.

'Surely… he seemed nice enough to me?' He ventured. 'Curious, intelligent, as powerful as you or I.'

'Oh, he's good at pretending to be but he's a manipulative sod. Even if he did agree to the bond, he'd be as likely to turn around and stab us in the back as Arika Fleiss.'

'No.' Gellert shook his head. He didn't know exactly how her opinion had been formed but he was certain she was wrong. They were a powerful duo, particularly Hermione with her sect, and Berg and Anneken were nothing to turn one's nose up, but it was foolish to turn down someone else with equal magical power just because of an incident that must have occurred years ago and hadn't even been worth writing about.

'You'll set out to be friends with him, just to prove me wrong, I'm sure.' Hermione crossed her arms and tossed her hair. 'But he'll stab you in the back in the end, you'll see.'

'We don't have time to be fussy.' He slapped a hand against the table, sending a sheaf of accounts fluttering to the floor. 'We need a coven.'

'So we'll just invite anyone with enough power?' She asked, tone a touch mocking. 'To lead Germany?'

'Power seems like a good place to start. I have allies at school who would be willing…'

'Searching for power ensures we will only find those who seek it.' Hermione spun, hair and skirt swirling around her to make her look much larger and more fearsome than she was. 'Your allies at school are bullies who will grow to become little better than terrorists. I would rather invite Alice, who at least has the strength to strike out on her own that bond with one of those power-hungry vermin.'

'They are traditionalists. Patriots, willing to do what is needed to be done to maintain our society. Perhaps with them in our coven, we might actually be able to make headway in this war?'

'Headway? You mean we'd attack our own people, suppressing them beneath the inescapable weight of our power? Why not bind them to our will? It would be simpler; a house elf bond, perhaps?'

It took Gellert a moment to comprehend what she'd just implied. It took effort to get the words out past the hand of disbelief and betrayal which clenched his lungs, but his mouth found fuel in his anger and words spilled out without thought or will.

'How dare you? I would give everything for this family, for Germany, for the magical world.'

'For Germany, or for your place within it? You would turn this family and this country into a sad shadow of itself just to keep the system the same, with you at its head.'

'You speak like a revolutionary.' Hermione recoiled.

'How dare you?' She imitated his furious hiss. 'I have fought, bled and killed for this family. As much as you… more than you. I have given everything; my life, my childhood, my freedoms. I have remained, standing strong even when you have abandoned me. And I will continue to uphold the values of House Grindelwald, even when you do not.'

'I am House Grindelwald, Hermione. I am our future. Our values are what I say they are. Our values are preserving the old ways, at any cost.'

'You're wrong.' Hermione drew herself up. 'And you will end the Grindelwald legacy with your stupid pride and arrogance. You will become everything your ancestors sought to destroy.'

'You know nothing of my ancestors.' He spat, 'you are a ward, you have no Grindelwald blood and no right to dictate to me the values of my family.'

'And as a ward, I swore to be an asset to the house, to adhere to the house's values and to bring glory to the name. My oath, sworn in blood and magic before the eyes of your ancestors is worth more than the chances of your birth. You may think you can dictate the values of the family, but I have ancestors of my own that still walk this plane and they tell me of the true values of this family.'

'Your family are dead.' Gellert shouted. His voice echoed down the stairwell in the sudden silence. Hermione withdrew, her fury transforming into something cold and unfamiliar.

'And that is why I know that seeking power is not the way forwards. Mordred sought to place himself on a throne that was not his and my family died. You seek to do the same; to use power to suppress your own people. You will fail, and you will bring the family, the old ways and Germany tumbling down with you. I will have no part of it, and I will not form a coven bond with your patriots.'

'Then I will do it alone.' Gellert responded.

He held her eyes defiantly for as look as he was able to, but his flaming fury did not allow for idleness and Hermione was like a wall of ice. He spun on his heel, using his wand to summon his belonging from his rooms and marching towards the stables.

The Granian colt was being tended to by elves in the stables, one wing splinted and suspended in a framework that took up most of the hallway. It sung with the strength of Hermione and Berg's magics. Gellert briefly considered blasting the entire structure away, crippling the horse as effectively as it had crippled his mother, but decided that would accomplish little. His two adopted siblings had already wasted time and energy on the beast and would only waste more if he took out his anger on the animal.

He looked back only briefly as he rode away into the gathering darkness. Hermione was a dark shadow in the glass of the lighthouse. It was fitting that she chose Hexemeer to continue as her base; an island defended only by its remoteness and a small amount of magic. Gellert, on the other hand, would go to Nurmengard and summon his allies, where he would prepare for war in the fortress that he had designed from the rubble of his fallen castle, defended by their magical power.