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They got used to each other. It was gradual and a bit strange, but they have learnt to live together. After coming back from the Dumbledores’ house they have stopped spending every second alone in their rooms reading or plotting. They have started talking. Albus didn’t even realize how much he had missed talking to Gellert about everything, but it turned out it gave him great relief to simply share his doubts and ideas with someone who didn’t expect him to control everything, to have the answer to every question, a solution to every problem.
After a few weeks, he started asking Gellert questions. Personal, ideological, all of them. He was trying to re-learn the man, to somehow make sense of what happened to him. Why has changed so much and yet not at all.
“How did you escape Nurmengard?” He finally asked one evening, while they were both enjoying a meal Gellert had prepared. They were taking turns cooking, mostly because both of them were horrible at it. Albus could admit that he got used to eating at Hogwarts were everything was being cooked by the house-elves, while Gellert generally didn’t learn a thing in Nurmengard and has been haunting Muggle dinners since his release. Still, his dishes were a bit more edible, a fact he wouldn’t let Albus forget and reminded of constantly throughout every meal. For experimentation sake, they bought one magical cooking book and one Muggle one and tried out recipes. Some of them were pretty alright, but today’s meal wasn’t even burnt and that got Albus thinking about the changes Gellert underwent, hence the question.
Gellert finished eating and took a sip of his tea.
“To answer your question I’d have to tell you a bit about my life in Nurmengard. I don’t know if you feel up to it.”
He did.
“After you brought me there and left me unconscious and alone, stripped of every bit of my magic and dignity, I woke up in a tower. Of course, I knew it was Nurmengard, I’d built the castle myself after all and I was full of hope. With my followers in the same prison, we could work. It wasn’t the first cell I had been thrown into, after all, and I was sure that with the right support, I would be able to get away.” Gellert started and Albus decided to ignore pangs of guilt that struck him.
“But weeks changed into months, month into years, and I was still the only prisoner there. The guards, all related to people I had hurt or killed, told me cheerfully that I had been saved only because of your mercy. The rest of my people didn’t get such luxury as imprisonment. Most of them were dead. Some – given to the Dementors. Only lucky few were granted forgiveness in exchange for unwavering loyalty. I hated you, then. Death seemed like a preferable option, I was stuck motionless and powerless in one place with people who hated every grain of my being. “
Gellert’s eyes were blazing with old anger and Albus suddenly wished he had never asked. But if he truly was to forgive and to move on, then Gellert should do the same. And no matter how much time he had to think in his cell, the anger he felt had to have some outlet, Albus had to give him some closure. So he waited and listened.
“And then years turned into decades and my guards changed. They were younger, and although they knew the stories about me, they didn’t really hate me. I was just and old, broken man, with good manners, who gave them no trouble. I think I have given up at this point, I had no hope and no will to fight. I wanted to fall asleep and never wake up again, to greet Death like an old friend. But I didn’t. They talked to me, sometimes they brought me Muggle newspapers, too afraid to bring me anything related to the wizarding world. Rightly so. Boredom forced me to read the newspapers. The unmoving pictures, their stupid political squabbles, their strange fashion and inventions. “ Here Gellert smiled, a rare, small smile that carried no malice or amusement, but something like fondness.
“I admit, I grew interested. Since my wardens were a bit lenient with me, I asked them for more. Magazines, books, newspapers. There was one, Matthias, a young lad, very fond of me. His mother was a Muggle and he loved to talk about her a lot. I listened. I asked questions. I helped him with his problems, because if anything, I was good at reading and understanding people. In return he told me everything he knew and started to smuggle wizarding press for me. There were articles about the threat coming upon the British Isles, but nothing too explicit – Austria was too busy with its own problems since my disappearance, with some new followers stirring trouble presumably in my name. From what I’ve learnt, all they wanted to do was to kill Muggles and call it ideology. I’ve found myself detesting them. “
Here Gellert made a pause, looking straight at Albus.
“And I finally understood what you meant all these years ago. I’ve never bothered to learn anything about Muggles. They terrified me, disgusted me, so I made them into some kind of monsters from a different world, just trying to destroy us. I still believe that at the time I was partially right – they have been dangerous at the time, and remain so, as long as they remain ignorant of our existence. But my methods were wrong, and I finally saw that while I was reading articles about this band of youngsters murdering people and using our words as a slogan. It felt wrong. It was wrong.”
It was everything Albus has dreamt of all these years ago. To hear Gellert admit he was wrong. To see the world the way Albus did. He had always felt that they were somehow destined to be always at odds, to keep the world in balance – the two of them seemed to be too powerful to ever meet on the same side of the conflict. And yet…
“Matthias finally subscribed the Daily Prophet for me. The first war with You-Know-Who, the return of Ministry’s paranoia, I’ve learnt about all of it from the newspapers. I actually hoped you would write to me at this point. I thought that maybe seeing someone so vile would make you reconsider, would make you ask me for help. I think at this point I simply wanted to talk to you. I’ve missed you, you know, and I wanted to know why you spared me. But you were silent. I knew you were alive, because our lovely friend Rita Skeeter liked writing her little articles about you and your incompetent ways of fighting. But you were silent.”
Of course he was. To ask Gellert for help in the greatest moment of need was too much. He was afraid that he would set Grindelwald free under false pretenses, telling people everywhere that he was doing it for the cause. It would have been a lie. He needed his old friend, his old partner back. Just to have someone to talk to, to share the burden of decision. But he didn’t. Because Albus Dumbledore spent most of his life fearing Gellert Grindelwald. Or rather fearing himself when faced with Grindelwald.
“Then Harry Potter destroyed the new Dark Lord and it seemed everything was well in the world. Our chance for reconciliation was gone. Another decade passed and nothing changed. I’ve learned more and more about the world I tried so hard to destroy. Matthias brought his grandson, Michael to works sometimes. A nice boy, but no magical powers. He brought in his homework from Muggle school and taught me quite a lot. I liked that boy.”
That was a surprise.
“And then I started to have the visions. You, falling of the tower. Fawkes crying. A funeral by the lake. A white tombstone.”
Albus had never believed in Gellert’s Sight, but he knew better than to stop him now.
“I saw myself, dying in the very cell you put me, protecting your grave with my words. It wasn’t a bad death. But it was unnecessary. I could have protected you, I thought. And then I saw the article about some squabble between you and the new Minister of Magic and I saw your hand. Cursed. I was sure this was the reason you chose to fall. I asked Matthias to write a letter to Severus Snape, the man I saw killing you with tears in his eyes. I made a guess, and a correct one, it seemed, for he replied and came to see me. “
“But how did you escape?”
Here, Gellert started to laugh.
“I didn’t. I asked nicely. Matthias was the only person left in charge of me. The Austrian Ministry has long forgotten I was even alive, they simply demanded one letter of report a year and all Matthias had to do was to write that I had unfortunately passed away. They haven’t even send any officials to check it, if Matthias’ letter can be believed. There is an empty grave with ‘Gellert Grindelwald’ written in the stone and that’s the end of the story of the second greatest Dark Lord of all times.”
“So when I sent a letter to Nurmengard?”
“Matthias replied to you looking at an empty cell. A dear friend, that one.”
Albus was a clever man, he was well aware, and conjured pretty accurate guesses concerning many things, but he had never thought he would be lied to by a simple guard.
“The rest of the story you already know. I assumed a new identity, studied a lot of Muggle technologies and came to Hogwarts.”
Yes, Albus remembered his initial dislike of professor Kasprovitch, the competent man who was ideal for the position, yet too similar to Grindelwald for Albus’ comfort. It just showed that truly, Albus Dumbledore was just a man.
“I told the Order the truth – I left Nurmengard because I wanted to save your life. Nothing more to it. No evil plans, no world domination. Just me somehow repaying you for keeping me alive all those years ago.”
It was reassuring, but some emotional part of Albus felt a bit disappointed.
“So gratitude is the reason you are here?”
Gellert sighed tiredly and shot him a bored glare.
“No. Don’t pretend that age has made you stupid.”
It hasn’t.
But he didn’t tell Gellert that. He smiled instead and finished his supper.
Godric’s Hollow’s grim appearance in his mind started to get a bit brighter. Maybe someday he would stop dreading the place.
*
They moved from Godric’s Hollow at the end of February and moved around, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible – the Death Eaters got even more desperate, searching for him, and, if Albus was to believe Gellert’s visions – for the Elder Wand. The reports from Potterwatch were getting more worrying too, with sightings of Harry getting closer and closer to Hogwarts. It seemed that Albus’ theory about the hideout of the last horcrux was pretty close to reality.
The beginning of April found them in Hogsmeade, another place Albus would rather not visit if he didn’t have to. But this time he wasn’t alone – Gellert too wasn’t too keen on going to the village.
“We don’t even have to see him.”
“We will have to. You told me yourself that when the time comes we will get to the castle through the secret passage in his pub.”
Gellert was right, of course. Since the Death Eaters knew about at least half of the secret passages to the castle, thanks to Harry’s carelessness with the Marauders Map, if they wanted to enter Hogwarts, they would have to go through Aberforth’s place. Albus wasn’t looking forward to that. The years have somehow made both Dumbledore brothers more civil to each other, but that was it. If Albus had to socialize, he preferred to go to Three Broomsticks, and he visited Aberforth once a year, during Christmas. They had nothing to talk about, since the last time they tried, Aberforth accused Albus of not changing at all. Of still looking down at people and using them as his puppets to move around as he pleased, screaming “greater good” whenever someone caught him at it. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, his dislike for Albus was nothing compared to the pure hatred Aberforth felt for Gellert.
“I think that you will meet in such dire times, that both of you will decide to move on, at least for the moment.” Albus replied and was met with Gellert’s disbelieving stare. He almost forgot that Gellert wasn’t Aberforth’s greatest fan either.
Albus sighed. They were sitting in a small flat on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. His face was too recognizable in these parts, but they had to be close to Hogwarts, so they were cramped in something called “huntsman house”, right at the border with a forest. It was the most unpleasant hide-out among all they have been in so far and Albus actually wished that they could do something to force Voldemort’s hand, just to stop waiting. But they remained patient, listening to Potterwatch and to scarcely delivered reports from the members of the Order.
They were there for a week. Then it was two. And then, when everything started to look blurry and the days seemed filled with nothing but silent waiting, there was a call. In the middle of the night, there was a call claiming “Harry’s at Hogwarts”. But as always, he wasn’t alone. Tom Riddle has also returned to Hogwarts. All of the Death Eaters were suddenly called away from Hogsmeade and Albus and Gellert were free to abandon their place.
“I’ve waited for this night for so long. And then, suddenly, I think it came too early.” Gellert said as they passed Hogsmeade’s buildings, rushing to the Hog’s Head. And Albus could relate. Although they both hated waiting, they days they have spent here were peaceful. In a way, they were perfect because finally, they weren’t fighting each other.
“Hopefully, we will meet after all of this ends. I believe in Harry.” Albus said with a fond, yet strained smile. Gellert said nothing. He didn’t know Harry as well as Albus did, after all. And he didn’t know what cruel fate awaited the boy, what Albus made him into. But he knew enough, it seemed, for he refused to talk about Harry and Dumbledore was grateful. He didn’t know how he would take Gellert’s reaction – would it be better to be understood and applauded by the greatest Dark wizard of his time, or to be criticized for cruelty?
He didn’t know. But the time for confessions would have to wait.
After the war, after this was all over, Albus Dumbledore would finally stop living with guilt.
*
As they approached the Hog’s Head, Gellert would admit to feeling anxious. Not only because a meeting with Aberforth could halt any progress Albus made in his moving on, but mostly because he wasn’t sure if both of them would live to see the end of the fight. While he was happy at Albus’ certainty, he was never an optimist. He had never believed in luck or in other people. And even though they both agreed that Voldemort’s methods were rather pitiful, it still didn’t change the fact that there were hundreds of skilled witches, wizards and magical creatures standing with Tom Riddle and just a handful of Harry’s allies. The odds didn’t look too good.
If Gellert was to be even more honest with himself, he would admit that they were both old. Though it felt glorious to be finally reunited with the only wizard Gellert truly admired, to once again feel powerful and invincible as long they were together, Gellert was well aware that they were both old. Albus’ cursed hand did not heal, it simply stopped dying, but the damage done to it was done. And despite his recklessness, Gellert wasn’t in the best shape either. Decades of imprisonment had left their toll on him and the fact he returned from his raid at the Ministry could be attributed to the help of the Order, not to his own talents.
That was why Gellert had a clear goal in his mind – make sure Albus Dumbledore lived. As for his own survival – it would be welcome, but didn’t sound probable.
The visions didn’t change much, even if the settings did.
In his dreams, Gellert Grindelwald still died of Tom Riddle’s hand.
*
They went inside the Hog’s Head with a crowd of young wizards and witches, who explained (very chaotically) how they were summoned by someone like Dumbledore’s Army. Gellert was very eager to ask, and maybe tease Albus a little, because he, the Dark Lord of old had never had Grindelwald’s Army, but decided against it. Mostly because Albus’ attention was not on him, nor on his former students.
It was focused on Aberforth, he seemed to be hyperventilating at the mere sight of them.
“You.” Aberforth hissed and Gellert only now understood, that the man was not looking at Albus at all. He was looking at him. Passing the students and positioning himself in front of Albus, just in case (Albus’ nose had been broken one time too many, in Gellert’s opinion), Gellert met Aberforth’s furious gaze with his dispassionate one.
“Me.” He agreed. If it was a moment from a book, everything would have gone quiet, but thankfully, the kids walking through the secret passage were making enough ruckus to convince Gellert that this standoff was real.
“I had hoped you died. I really wished you did, because then finally this whole family could be rid of you. I was hoping those morons calling themselves Death Eaters were wrong and that my brother couldn’t have been so stupid to let you in again. And yet, as always, all perfect Albus can do, is disappoint.” Aberforth growled and Gellert’s temper flared. It was as if he had been transported back to this ruined house in Godric’s Hollow, listening to Aberforth’s insults directed at Albus, at the never-ending list of Albus’ faults. Listening to Aberforth shouting at them both, this strange boy that had no business telling them what to do and who had still so much impact on Albus… Gellert was suddenly reminded that he had always hated Aberforth Dumbledore as much as Aberforth hated him.
“I thought you might have grown up a bit and stopped blaming your brother for not being like you, but I am mistaken, it seems. There is war in the air and people are already dying, but all you can think of is your inferiority complex and envy. That’s just sad, Aberforth, but then again, nothing’s new.” Gellert replied, his tone carefully bland and seemingly emotionless. He had always done that in the past, to make Aberforth feel like he didn’t matter, like he couldn’t affect Gellert in any way. It had always worked and made the boy furious. It still worked on the man, it seemed, because Aberforth started to charge at him, and even the youngsters stopped in their tracks, because the room was quiet.
Gellert had his wand ready, but this time he was wiser, this time he wouldn’t be the first one to cast a spell, no matter what happened after Aberforth’s attack, he could play it as self-defense…
There was a loud noise and something exploded between him and Aberforth, throwing them both a bit to the back.
“I think that’s quite enough.“ Said Albus in his coldest voice and when Gellert looked at him, there was pure power and fury around him. The greatest wizard of all times, no question about it. “We are moving to save Hogwarts, not to let you both repeat the past. This time we have too many children present.”
Gellert’s blood ran cold, and from the looks of it, so did Aberforth’s.
That was cold. That was horrible. That was exactly what he needed to say and Gellert could almost see the strain it put on Albus. Almost, because the terrifying anger visible on Albus’ face made it hard to see anything else.
Gellert hid his wand and without a word turned to the line in front of the passage. He decided to stand behind a terrified looking red-haired man who looked like he had just apparated here from the Ministry, judging from his clothes.
Albus and Aberforth were still staring at each other.
Apparently this Albus didn’t need Gellert running in his defense. Although both Dumbledores were silent, almost everyone in the room felt the tension.
Gellert very firmly ignored shocked stares he was getting from the youngsters and still looked at Albus, ready to jump in to make sure Aberforth didn’t break Albus yet again. But this time Albus seemed to be victorious, for Aberforth finally swore under his breath and turned away, disappearing in the other room.
Without a word, Albus joined Gellert in the line.
“Good evening, Percy.” He said to the red-head in front of Gellert and the man grew red with embarrassment. Then Gellert had an epiphany. Percy Weasley, the traitor son of Arthur Weasley. The one who told his family that as long they kept on supporting the old fool Dumbledore, he would never call them his family again. That Percy Weasley. Oh, Albus’ day was probably getting better and better with every second.
Gellert felt a strange pity for the Death Eaters that were to cross their path now. Albus had always felt better letting out the steam on evil people, rather than on his allies, no matter how hard they’ve hurt him or disappointed him. Oh well.
Percy replied something under his breath and disappeared in the painting. And then, suddenly, it was his turn and Gellert was met with Ariana’s bright blue eyes.
He wasn’t prepared for that.
He just stood there, looking at her, as if he had seen a ghost, and in a way, he had. Ariana was never meant to suffer. It was Aberforth, all Aberforth that tore them apart that day, everything they were meant to do was for her. But now everyone knew how that ended. Gellert has spent a lot of time trying to convince himself that it wasn’t his fault. (It was). Then, that she was a necessary sacrifice to his cause (she really wasn’t). Then, in Nurmengard, he finally faced the reality: she had been his ghost. Not only Albus’. He regretted her death for her own sake, not only because she put a damper on his plans.
It was strange, to look at her face and see her smiling at him. It wasn’t really her, he knew, it was exactly like Albus had said, just an echo of who Ariana was, but it was still something he wasn’t ready for.
He climbed the frame in silence and allowed Ariana to lead him inside the corridor. Albus was probably right behind him, but Gellert didn’t dare to look at him now.
The passage ended in a room that looked like a refugee camp.
Hammocks and different pieces of equipment were lying around and there was a mass of kids, too young to be here with wounds on them, and yet ready to fight for the cause.
Harry Potter and his friends were also here and were welcoming everyone with tired, but sincere smiles. The journey Albus had put them through had taken its toll on them. They looked like veterans already, their eyes far too wise for their age.
Although Albus’ appearance made everyone cheer, Harry’s gaze held certain sadness in it, as if he was a bit disappointed in his mentor. Albus had noticed it for sure, but didn’t address it, so Gellert decided to be quiet as well.
Harry finally stopped staring at both of them, and some students actually recognized Gellert as their previous professor, so they welcomed him with enthusiasm as well, which was a surprise. But then again, some of the students did see him change his face a year ago. There were also some adult members of the Order – Gellert could recognize Arthur and his wife, Kingsley and Remus, and Weasley newlyweds, if he was correct.
The Weasley family took Percy’s arrival very loudly and Gellert did everything he could not to listen in. He had enough of family drama for today. He moved his attention to Albus’ face instead, and was a bit surprised with what he had found there. Albus looked.. content. To see so many people risk their lives for the greater good? No, that wasn’t it… And then it hit him. Albus was happy because these people were here together. They were connected by bonds stronger than just blood or obligation. They were here because of love, bravery and friendship. Albus Dumbledore was impressed and moved, to see people give effortlessly what he strived so hard to gain.
Without a word, Gellert moved closer and squeezed Albus’ cursed hand.
Just to let him know that there were people who were there for him.
That he was also loved.
Suddenly, everyone started to move – from what the Order was saying, Hogwarts was getting ready to defend itself from the Death Eaters.
Not paying much attention to the kids, two old wizards left the room, ready to finally fight their last fight.
“Minerva is now the acting Headmaster of Hogwarts and I would hate to undermine her authority. We should move to the protective barriers, to cut down anything that tries to get through.” Albus’ voice was so surprising that Gellert let go of his hand.
“Of course, as you wish.” He managed to reply and Albus’ eyes crinkled. They moved through the corridors rather unnoticed, although a few ghosts exclaimed happily at the sight of their beloved Headmaster.
On their way outside they were passed by a horde of galloping desktops and Gellert decided that it was definitely the strangest battlefield he had ever seen.
As they were making their way down the courtyard, Albus suddenly stopped.
“This is hardly the time, but why do you hate Aberforth so?” He asked.
Oh. So Albus was also aware of the fact that they might not talk again after this night. Of course he was.
Gellert had lied to Albus Dumbledore only once. He wasn’t going to do it again.
“Because he had power over you and used it in a wrong way. No matter how many times I told you how brilliant you were, how special and how deserving, a few words from his disdainful mouth and you fell apart, doubting yourself and us. He envied you and made you suffer for it.”
“He was right, you know? We were foolish, arrogant and cruel.”
“Yes, but I didn’t see that at the time. All I saw was an unaccomplished younger brother putting down his successful one. Stopping him from greatness. Stopping him from being with me.” Here, Gellert turned to look into Albus’ blue eyes. “I think I was well aware than when it came to choices, you’d always pick him, not me.”
Albus sighed at that.
“I almost picked you and regretted it for decades. You were the only person that I could never say no to and it scared me. It scared me how much I needed you, wanted you. I was horrified of who I was with you. We were both terrible people, Gellert.”
“We still are.”
Albus’s face looked crestfallen after that, but really, there was no use sugar-coating it. They were. Both manipulative, idealistic and ruthless. And so, so powerful. But was it really so wrong? They weren’t hurting anyone this time around. They were protecting.
They were silent for a while, adding protective charms around the castle. Gellert missed the Elder Wand, but his new one, bought at Ollivander’s more than a year ago suited him perfectly. Well, core of the phoenix feather after all.
They were almost done when a shrilling voice bounced off the castle’s walls.
Voldemort was calling for surrender. His words sounding as if merciful, he demanded to have Harry Potter handed to him. And then…
If any of you finds me Albus Dumbledore and brings him and his wand to me, they will be rewarded. You have until midnight.
Oh, well.
Just after the end of the announcement, they were approached by a silver cat – no doubt Minerva McGonagall’s’ patronus.
Albus, we have devised a plan of the battle. You and Grindelwald will be needed at the borders, the scouts claim there are werewolves and giants in enemy’s ranks. The students are being evacuated through the Hog’s Head. Potter is searching the castle for something, on your orders, he claims. No one is going to give you up to the enemy. We are ready.
“As always, Professor McGonagall. Splendid work. We will hold the border as long as we can.” Albus replied and the cat dashed back into the castle.
"I think at this point we can safely call him by his name. At this point Voldemort really doesn’t care who speaks his name, all of his enemies are here.” Gellert pointed out. “It would be actually hilarious to see his people appearing everywhere his name is mentioned. We could have whole troops whose only job would be to chant his name and run away.”
Albus Dumbledore chuckled at that and it was the best sound Gellert has heard in years.
Their half an hour was gone too soon and first attacks at the barrier started to shake the ground around them.
“I think we should split. “ Gellert opened his mouth to protest, but Albus silenced him with one glance.” We are both needed and there are too many weak points in our defenses to waste both of us in one place. I promise you I will see you after this is over. I promise.”
All Gellert could do was smile sadly at that. “You have never kept any of the promises you’ve made me.”
“This one will be different.”
There was determination in Albus’ eyes and that was it. Their final goodbye.
“Just make sure you live through this.” Gellert whispered, taking Albus’ hand in his own.
“I will.”
And before they could part their ways, a blast incinerated brick in front of them. The first group went through the barrier. With one final glance at each other, they both started to cast spells around. All around there were only Death Eaters, the nearest group of the Order was at the school grounds, so there was nothing stopping them from giving as best as they got.
When Gellert finally could look up from his devastating blue fire, he saw Albus surrounded by a whip of red fire, dancing around him and burning his enemies with every elegant swirl. Fawkes has joined in the fray and was now flying behind Albus, making him look like a god of Death himself. Gellert fell a little bit in love all over again.
The attacks got a bit weaker for a moment, the Death Eaters running away to regroup, so Gellert took the opportunity to shout:
“When we win, we can settle down in that little apartment in London!”
Albus stopped his fire-whip immediately.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what you heard. Spend the rest of your life with me! Not that we have that much of it left, but at least you won’t have to suffer for long!”
A rare smile appeared on Albus’ face.
“We will talk about it later.” It was as good as yes.
Grinning, Gellert finally moved towards the Forbidden Forest, cursing and hexing everything that tried to touch him.
Then he saw a very nasty figure raising his wand towards young MacMillian’s back. He killed the Death Eater without a second glance and ordered the Hufflepuff to retreat to the castle.
The situation on the border with the Forbidden Forest was dire.
Werewolves, Giants – all of this was true, what was worse what the scouts hadn’t seen were the enormous spiders running around and eating everyone in sight.
“Students, behind me!” He shouted and this time he didn’t play with any theatrics, any blue flames or dragons made of fire. No, this time he simply sent a huge shockwave of pure energy directed at everything that was in front of him. Durmstrang’s Advanced Destructive Magic volume 2, page 465 – Ignite Funeris , Flame Burials, the spell that got him expelled. A powerful curse reducing everyone in the range into dust. The more victims, the more powerful the spell.
That was what the Death Eaters were messing with. That was the power of a true Dark Lord.
The student behind him were silent, possibly terrified, but Gellert couldn’t care at the moment. The defenders of Hogwarts were outnumbered and mercy wasn’t exactly Gellert’s forte.
“Run to the castle. The grounds are too dangerous for students.” They didn’t answer, but he could hear their hurried footsteps on the grass.
Gellert looked at the pile of ash before him.
It was exhausting. Too exhausting, he probably won’t be able to use this spell again. But the children were safe. So this was worth it.
He looked back and there at the top, in front of the castle he could see Albus’ red flames. Good. At least he was faring better.
Unfortunately, the enemy knew no rest and seemed aware of Gellert’s limitations, because they kept coming at him and normal curses started to be too slow. There were too many of them.
So he had to try again.
He concentrated on his anger, on his desire to see the people in front him dead, on the bloody flat in London. And there it was, the pulsating magic, the rage, the destructive force.
Ignite Funeris
Another shockwave, another piles of ash.
There was nothing in front of him now.
No one.
Once again he was all alone, at the top with no equal.
He almost felt young and foolish again.
And then something bit him in the leg and he felt his body give up. Venom was moving very fast through his body, so high on adrenaline and exhausted with magic use.
He could see a snake’s tail disappearing in the grass.
Of course. Once again, magical creatures will bring the downfall of Gellert Grindelwald.
As he fell down, the snake stopped and turned to look at him. He recognized the snake. He would always recognize this particular snake.
Nagini…
Everything became dark.