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Dark Arts High Master Gellert Grindelwald shook his head and smiled at the picture his sons made. Onyx and Tom were huddled in the corner of a settee that had been lodged against the glass window, overlooking the rugged, snow-wrapped mountains. Despite the fire raging in the hearth, he could feel the chill seeping through the enchanted glass. Fortunately, his sons had fallen in love with Nurmengard at first sight. He would’ve built another home for them had they minded the cold for he would do anything for his family. However, he would’ve missed the scenery his fort offered. There was something calming and pure about snow he appreciated. The Austrian Alps offered a welcome retreat—a port in the storm that was his life. It would seem, Tom and Onyx found that same thing in Nurmengard.
He arched a pale brow when his gaze slid to the narrow sill beneath the windowpanes. It was lined with ancient books he had collected through his travels. Most of them contained Dark spells declared Forbidden in more countries than he cared to count. But then, wasn’t most Wixen’s reasoning unsound? A simple Wingardium Leviosa could kill if aimed perfectly.
All the books were bits and pieces of his past—a testament to how much he had sacrificed for the cause he believed in.
Tom frowned, his fingers curling possessively around the spine of a book he remembered so well. Gellert observed as Onyx’s dark eyes glowed with an almost violet light, and his lips parted in one of those dazzling, abandoned smiles he reserved for his family. He could appear almost angelic when he wished, but much of the time a hint of mischievousness glimmered in his expression as if he was thinking of something amusing. Gellert and Haven stole glimpses of the Obscurus he housed at those times. The Creature was known for its dark and naughty nature.
Onyx and Tom’s heads were close together as they skimmed through the book. “I can’t believe how much damage a simple spell could cause. Dark Magic is impressive,” Tom said quietly but he could hear the awe in his toneless voice.
“Father isn’t the greatest Dark Arts High Master in the Magical World for nothing,” Onyx replied as he tilted his head and regarded his brother. “Sometimes, I find it hard to imagine how hard he had researched and trained. He hadn’t even finished school and look at him. No one can duel him and emerge victorious. I wonder if I can become like him one day.”
“You mean Durmstrang?” Tom closed the book slowly and put it down, his expression tight.
At once, Onyx sobered and laid a protective hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, you’ll receive your letter eventually.”
“But you didn’t.” Tom lifted a dull gaze to Onyx. “And you are a very talented wizard. You are an Obscurial,” he asserted stoutly.
“If you want to enrol in a magical school, nothing will stop you. Our parents will make sure of that. Unlike you, I don’t need a school to learn magic. I’m not that young boy yearning for normality anymore. A boring, ostentatiously moral family with a monotonous life would never make my Obscurus content.” Onyx ran a hand through his silky, shoulder-length hair. “Greatness…” He seized upon the word promptly. “That is exactly what you should strive for. And do you know what the true source of greatness is?”
Tom’s gem-like eyes became suddenly alive, filled with a frantic blaze. “Power.”
“No. Power is but a means to an end. Dumbledore is a powerful wizard however, has he ever contributed to the betterment of our world? The answer would be a definite no.” Gellert walked slowly into the room, taking no small amount of pleasure in startling his sons. They were yet to detect his Aura whenever he hid it.
He stared at them seriously, refusing to allow the intensity of his feelings to show. “A great wizard is someone who lives for a just cause. He never strays from his goals and uses every means to defend his beliefs. A great wizard is someone who lets his family always come first, who protects his own. A great wizard is someone who takes pride in being different and appreciates the gift Mother Magic has given us. Every wizard was destined for eminence but only a few are able to make the sacrifices and walk the thorny road that leads to greatness.”
“But to accomplish one’s goals you need to amass power and allies. Don’t you have a War Council, Father?” Tom began.
“True,” Gellert took a seat. “However, not every wizard can handle the burden of being responsible for an army. Believe me, son, they give you a perpetual headache.”
Onyx’s eyes were fairly dancing with a rebellious light as he peered at him. “You love being in control. Admit it, Father.”
Gellert’s lips curved upward. “Why would I? I am not the most patient man. I don’t wait for lightning to strike, I make my own storm. I cannot see myself being reduced to relying on others.”
“Even Mother?” Tom asked primly.
He shook his head at his youngest. There was no denying the power Haven had over him. The control he had cultivated through the years deserted him whenever she was near. She was simply wild. What she meant to him was too complicated to put into simple words. All his life, he had avoided attachment and responsibility away from his war not because he was incapable of it, but because trust did not come easily to him.
He couldn’t help but be pleased with the changes that had come over Tom. The past months in Nurmengard had done what he had hoped. Tom was no longer looking at everyone with veiled animosity and suspicion; he was no longer looking at him and Haven like a beaten pup that had just had someone pet him for the first time. It went without saying that for years, he had been desperate for kindness, but also leery of accepting it for fear that it wouldn’t last. Now, he seemed confident in his place in their family.
He reached out and swept a lock of Tom’s hair away from his eyes in a rare display of affection. “So to answer your first question, yes, Dark Magic is impressive but no one should ever succumb to its lure. There is a line to draw between Dark Magic and obsession.”
Tom nodded sternly. “Mother told me little bits about House Gaunt and its curse. The last thing I want is to turn mad like Marvolo and Morfin.”
Gellert looked at him incredulously. “You are too smart to let yourself be swept away by greed for power. I don’t intend for you ever to be in a position to have to do that. As my son, you will lack for nothing.”
“I would never betray your trust, Father.” Tom’s words sounded more heartfelt than any Unbreakable Vow he forced several allies and enemies alike to make.
“I figured as much,” Gellert smirked. “Who knows? You might inherit my title one day. Dark Lord Tom Slytherin Peverell Grindelwald? I like the way it sounds.”
Onyx’s mouth quirked. “He can have it, I have other plans.”
“Are you still interested in Obscure Magic?”
“Yes,” Onyx’s expression turned serious. “I’d like to become an Unspeakable and delve into Obscure Magic, unravel mysteries and find out more about the origin of Obscurials.”
Gellert’s chest swelled with pride. Onyx’s self-confidence was a tender thing right now. He was so full of dreams and hopes that had helped him survive, and he would not let anything or anyone destroy it.
“I’ll see that you are introduced to High Master Bazyli Bartosz soon. He’s the most accomplished Unspeakable in Magical Europe.”
Onyx’s eyes shone so bright they seemed to sparkle through the room. “Would he take me for Apprentice if I exhibited the talent?”
“He will,” Gellert smiled. His sons would get everything they were denied. Nothing was impossible when it came to their needs. They were two young wizards striving to prove themselves and he would nourish their talent by all means.
When Tom’s eyes dropped, his mouth tightened. No matter how busy he was, he was aware of what had been ailing him for weeks. Tom hadn’t received his letter yet. The uncertainty was pecking away at his mind, leaving him feeling vulnerable and unsure of himself. Fortunately, his family became the anchor that without them, he would be foundering. Although he might feel like he was drowning, Tom was not one to give up easily. If anything, his stay in that twice-cursed orphanage had taught him the hard part about faith: believing even when there wasn’t a basis for it, no hope.
“Where would you like to go?” he asked gently.
Tom’s eyes rounded. “You and Mother are the best teachers one can have. I doubt I could learn anything more in school.”
Gellert smirked. “You don’t need to flatter me, young man. You remind me of myself. Seeking knowledge even at the oddest place is something I applaud.”
“But—‘’
‘’We made sure that you are aware of the legacy you’ll be carrying for the rest of your life. You are not only my son, you are the last Gaunt; the rightful Heir to High Master Salazar Slytherin. It makes sense for you to take back what is rightfully yours.”
Onyx frowned. “We can’t send Tom to Hogwarts.”
“Who says I want to go back to England?” Tom’s eyes hardened to ice.
“You want to experience how it feels to be in a magical school,” Haven walked into the room. Head held high and spine straight, she looked every bit the queen she was. “And you will.”
With a wink, she produced several letters from her pocket. “Your letters are here and guess what? You have five options.”
“Five?” Tom repeated slowly.
“Hogwarts, Durmstrang, Koldovstoretz, Beauxbatons and Ilvermorny.’’
Tom latched on the letters like a starved Crup. Haven grinned and leaned to give him a kiss on the cheek before she took the seat next to him. “I don’t envy you. Five tempting proposals at once…” she snickered.
“Four,” Tom’s eyes shot up. “But why Ilvermorny? Isn’t it in the States?’’
‘’I’ll ask Director Graves to tell you the details but you are the sole descendant of Ilverlorny’s founder. High Mistress Isolt Sayre is also a Gaunt. She fled her family’s madness to build a life for herself in the States. The school was founded by her and her No-Maj husband, James Steward, on the highest peak of Mount Greylock. I heard it’s quite magnificent.”
Tom’s face displayed pure elation.
“You are the Heir to two Founders,” Gellert offered unnecessarily. However, he knew how much his love-starved son coveted power. There was no harm in that as long as he didn’t succumb to the lure of the Gaunt Madness; something he and Haven would never allow.
“Take your time,” Haven pinned a bright smile on her face as she brushed his silky hair tenderly, “and we’ll support any decision you make but before that…”
A chill spread over Gellert's back at the mischievous look in her eyes. Even Onyx exchanged a worried look with him.
“Aren't we supposed to visit Fleamont and Charles before we attended the International Confederation of Wizards’ annual meeting?”