The waterproofing charm on Gellert's funeral robes had long since faded. The wind howled between the towers, tearing laden grey clouds to roiling eddies on the sharp, fresh-cut stones. Sharp shards of snow hissed and scraped along the packed ice, driven into the wool of his clothes to melt. There were people in the courtyard still, but he couldn't hear them over the wind and the snapping of his cloak.

'Gellert?' An English accent, but a voice far sturdier and older than Hermione's. A hand fell onto his shoulder when he failed to respond; far too intimate. He spun to face the intruder. Bathilda Bagshot had worn black to the funeral instead of Grindelwald blue and silver, although she had not been alone in doing so. A Grindelwald funeral was a state event and had been attended by dignitaries, monarchs and representatives from across the world alongside what seemed like most of magical Germany, regardless of affiliation. Most, if not all, had been unfamiliar with traditional German rites. Anneken hovered behind her, near the staircase.

'The Minister of Magic needs to speak with you. He's in the library.'

Gellert didn't conceal his sneer, but he did follow the two witches down the treacherous stone staircase, through the courtyard and into the main tower. A fire roared in the library hearth, christening it black and allowing Gellert to shed his sodden cloak. The minister already sat at the large table, positioned as though it were a commanding desk and he was in charge. Irritated, Gellert deliberately sat at the head of the table instead of opposite him.

'Just a few matters to see to before you head off to England, Mister Grindelwald.' The Minister began breezily.

'England?' Gellert demanded, 'And it's Lord Grindelwald, now.'

The Minister – as revolutionary as they came – failed to hide his smug satisfaction.

'Why yes? Madam Bagshot is your closest adult relative and you have several months yet before you come of age. You can't honestly have expected to be allowed to live on that island with no adult supervision?'

'We don't need adult supervision.' Gellert sneered, folding his arms. 'We have been supervising ourselves, and half of the country, since mother was attacked.'

'It is not my place to question the parenting techniques of the coven, but as your mother is no longer with us, it falls to the ministry to ensure that you are properly supervised and cared for until you come of age. Madam Bagshot, as your closest adult relative, has very kindly agreed to take in both you and your sister.'

'No.' He refused.

'Unfortunately, you have no choice. Both your coastal home and this one require magical travel, maintenance and the services of a house elf – none of which you may maintain without adult supervision under the Law for the Prevention of Underage Sorcery. You will go with Madam Bagshot, or you will be expelled from Durmstrang, your wand snapped and, should you continue to flaunt the law, a warrant issued for your arrest.'

Gellert glared, but he'd been involved enough in the fighting that piece of cursed legislation enough to know that what the minister said was correct. His only other option was to go with Anneken, but if she was standing in the room and had failed to offer… he didn't know why, but clearly she was unable to take them. At least going with his aunt would give him the opportunity to investigate the Peverell house ruins, and perhaps work more on Albus Dumbledore. The British wizard had been promisingly powerful.

'Fine. I'll go.'

'Excellent – now the matter of your sister's education. We have it on record that she did briefly attend Durmstrang and although they seemed to believe that she was previously educated at Hogwarts, that school has no records of a Hermione Grindelwald ever attending.'

'Of course not.' Gellert sneered, 'She would have been enrolled under her birth family name.'

'Unfortunately, they had no records of a Hermione Gorlois either.'

'She wasn't born Gorlois.' He realised abruptly that he didn't actually know what Hermione's muggle name had been. He must have heard it at some point, and he was fairly certain it had started with a "G", but he couldn't remember it.

'Well, perhaps you might summon her and we can settle this.'

'No.' He hadn't even seen her since the night after his mother died. She hadn't appeared for the reading of the will, wherein she'd been left Hexemeer as her dowry. She'd missed the dressing of the remains and Gellert had had to go alone to claim his position as head of the house before their ancestors in the caves. She hadn't even appeared for the funeral. He might have been concerned if it wasn't so within character for her to disappear without explanation and miss important events.

'No?' The Minister challenged, eyes gleaming. 'Surely you can. She is, after all, your ward, Lord Grindelwald.'

'She is also the High Priestess of Gorlois. Hermione goes where she wants to, when she wants to. Even my mother couldn't stop her.' He almost wished the minister would pursue Hermione. If he failed, which Gellert did not doubt he would, it would be most amusing to watch. If, as unlikely as it was, he succeeded… well, Gellert would not be opposed to some honest answers either.

The minister shrugged and made a note on one of the pieces of parchment in front of him.

'Very well, we shall generously assume that Miss Grindelwald is being cared for by her other family. She will, however, present herself at Durmstrang on the 1st September, otherwise a warrant will be issued for her wand and, subsequently, her arrest.'

Gellert shrugged. He would pass on the word to Hermione if and when he next saw her, and in all honesty he had no idea how she would respond.

'Well, now there's just a couple of signatures… here and here… this is a registration for your beast with the British government. Madam Bagshot will maintain the enchantments on your behalf. These are your immigration papers…'

The ministry had taken every possible step to see him out of the country as quickly as possible. The paperwork that had taken Gellert months last time was completed in less than half an hour, despite it being for residence rather than just a quick visit. The complications of his sudden and technically illegal departure last time had been waived and even Hermione's paperwork was in order, despite her lacking a guardian, a birth certificate, or even the names of her birth parents. It was a feeble attempt to destroy his ability to maintain a powerbase; to give the ministry even more time to consolidate and make changes whilst he was abroad – constitutionally, the minister did not need to seek his approval for emergency legislation if the reigning Grindelwald was overseas.

But Gellert could make his own plans. He had access to the Grindelwald vaults in full now and he was sure the obscene quantities of gold within could be levied into ensuring he received a private international portkey. If not, he could purchase a flying beast in addition to Kelpie and simply fly to Germany to attend parliament. Baghilda would have to come with him; she would understand the importance of the Grindelwald name. That, or he could sponsor a research trip beyond her wildest dreams and have free reign to do as he pleased in her absence.

He insisted on saddling Kelpie himself, taking the opportunity to send several secretive owls to his allies from the seclusion of the stables. Berg was already there, double checking the straps of his hippogriff's harness.

'I'm leaving.' His brother announced, somewhat unnecessarily. Gellert eyed the full harness and bulging saddle bags. It didn't look like Berg would be making a quick trip. He'd changed his funeral cloak for a thick travelling cloak.

'Where?' He asked.

'They want me to go to Alice.' Berg scowled darkly. 'I think I'll go back to Persia. The ministry have no power there, and I'd be able to visit Azadeh.'

'You're running away?' demanded Gellert, caught between shock and anger.

'I haven't got a choice.' Berg shrugged bitterly. 'I can't go back to Alice, and they'll snap my wand if I don't.'

That, Gellert couldn't argue. It was the same reason he'd had to agree to go to Baghilda's after all.

'Right.' He sounded awkward, even to his own ears. 'Well, good luck. Stay in touch – it won't always be like this. We'll fight back once we're of age.'

'Yeah.' Berg sounded just as awkward. 'Yeah. Stay safe. Look after Hermione; I don't know what's happened to her this time, but she'll need your support when she gets back.'

His brother's brows had creased in concern, but all Gellert felt was a sharp jab of feelings he didn't want to examine. Betrayal, anger, fear… he shrugged it off quickly. She was a powerful witch, and nothing could keep her away if she didn't want to be kept away.

'I'll er… distract them?' Gellert offered. He hadn't been close to Berg in a long time, but faced with the prospect of his imminent and long term absence, Gellert found himself suddenly feeling very uncertain and alone. More alone than the many times he'd struck out on his own. He'd always been the one to leave and he'd always been able to go back to them if he chose.

'Thanks.'

Gellert offered him a leg up, then headed out to let a thestral loose among the herd of hippogriffs that many of the funeral guests had ridden in on. There wasn't much more disruptive than a herd of stampeding eagle-horses right next to a muggle village.

Ten minutes later, over fifty hippogriffs clogged thy sky over Nurmengard and Berg's brown beast disappeared into the swirling clouds, unnoticed and unremarkable. Gellert was left alone; the only Grindelwald.