Grindelwald
Gellert hated to be in hiding, yet, with his plan etched into his mind, what could stop him? He shivered and looked up to the sky as white flakes of snow floated down. Gellert had run from Godric's Hollow less than a year ago. He had left his only friend, his most beloved friend, Albus. Gellert missed his friend desperately. It felt like a piece of his heart had cracked and disappeared when he ran away. He pulled out a piece of parchment from inside his coat. It was a simple picture: Albus on the left with a short smile and himself on the right with a grim look. He had carried the picture since the day he had run away, kept securely in his vest pocket close to his heart. Gellert went back to the day where that picture was taken. They were standing in some kind of courtyard with a backdrop of fanciful green trees.
They were happy and laughing, but what had made him grimace that day? Gellert remembered that every time he was with Albus, he couldn't stop smiling. Why was this day any different? Then it came to him suddenly and the hairs on his arms bristled like cats fur. The picture was taken by someone. A girl. He remembered her face now. Namora Ren.
Gellert was brought back to that day so long ago and remembered his time with Albus. The fun that they had had that day. It was the last day of the tournament and they wanted to spend it having fun. He didn't particularly like the girl, Namora. She was never the same after the incident in Knockturn Alley. He had to admit that he had thought about her more than once. Her power. It was...magnificent. Sense that year, he had become somewhat acquainted with her and her two other friends. Who were they? Another girl. Queen. No. Queenie. She had a most obnoxious accent that made him cringe at times, but the boy he didn't mind. His name was Percival and he seemed almost as interested in magic as Gellert was...
He stumbled, his wrapped leather boots striking against stone. Gellert cursed and looking to see what he had tripped on. A stone. He bent down, brushing his gloved hands across the smooth surface. Engraved into the stone was a name:
Mildred M. Grindelwald
1826-unknown
Daughter of Mrs. Grindelwald and Mr. Grindelwald.
"The future depends on those who change it by force, not by those who wait for something to happen."
Gellert inhaled a cold breath that made his lungs burn. He stumbled upwards and through squinted eyes looked upon a cabin. He had found it. He raced through the snow, which was more like running in sand up to his knees. A ten minute trudge led him to the front door which was supposed to be a thirty-second walk. The door was worn after being untouched and uncared for so many years. The dark blackthorn wood welcomed him and Gellert grasped the silver doorknob, eager to get out of the cold, and opened the door.
What greeted him was his childhood home. Creaking wooden floorboards, a giant stone fireplace where once orange flames used to be. A dusty lounging chair, a hallway leading to a couple bedrooms, an old chandelier where graying candles half-burned stood. Gellert sighed and slipped his wand out of his sleeve. His family was clever. With a simple revealing spell and a swish of an ebony-white wand, the entire interior changed into lavish quarters. Color seemed to drain into the curtains, coloring them green and as everything changed, Gellert sighed. He hadn't been here in a long, long time.
Gellert ran his index finger over the delicate fabric of a chair that sat adjacent to the fireplace. There wasn't even a speck of dust to be found. Whatever spell was used kept the place not only hidden, but in perfect shape as if, after all of these years, nothing had been altered. Above the fireplace was dozens upon dozens of silver lines carved into the wood of the cabin. It glowed like a unicorn's horn in the dim light of the cabin. Gellert stepped a little closer, recognizing his family's version of their family tree.
He grew angry at the sight of it. His family? No. They betrayed him. They betrayed him just like...like Albus. Gellert clenched his fists as he thought about the ordeal more and more. He was protecting Albus and he turned on him. He didn't mean to kill that girl. It was that boy's fault. Albus' brother. It was his fault that all of this happened. Gellert swept his arm across the top of the fireplace, knocking over a vase of flowers, a few trinkets, and a heavy book.
"Well, now. Is that how you treat the home you were raised in?" The voice was icy and smooth and Gellert smiled little because he knew who this was. As he turned around, he said: "Good to see you, Mildred." The woman before him scowled. Gellert had not seen his sister in a long time. Long black hair like midnight streaked with white like snow, icy eyes like a stormy sea, and a face that stuck out more than anything. "You know I don't go by that anymore." "Oh?" Gellert answered as he crossed over to the chair to sit down. He heard her sigh before she came to lean on against the fireplace. "Molly." Gellert let out a chuckle. "Molly...my, you really have sunken low." Another scowl. "You haven't lost your sense of procrastination, Gellert." He glared at her for a moment then looked away leisurely. "How's life treating you?" He asked carelessly as he watched snow fall out a frosted window. "How's your friend?" She fired back and Gellert snapped. "Don't you dare..." Molly smirked. "That's what our parents say when you were standing at that door over there, ready to leave."
Gellert just smiled and closed his eyes for a moment. "Best day of my life," he said and flicked his eyes up at her. Molly looked taken aback, as if she had taken the comment to heart, but quickly recovered. "I only came here to get something," she said and Gellert glanced down at the little black purse she was holding. "You're hiding something from me." Molly stood a little straighter and hardened her gaze as Gellert stood. "You are not as powerful as I remember you, sister." Molly went a little pale, but looked away from him and towards the door. "You shouldn't stay here long," she said. "It's not the same now," she added as she glanced over the house. "There are things in the dark here." Gellert was not phased by his sister's warning more than he was annoyed by her presence.
"I won't stay long. I haven't the need to." Molly nodded. "You were a good man, Gellert. Why don't you..." Gellert scoffed. "Don't start with me," he interrupted her. "Why don't you listen!?" Molly said in frustration. Gellert came towards her, feeling the icy tension between him and her as he did. "I don't need to listen to anyone but myself." "You listening to yourself killed our parents, Gellert." "That was their own fault," he said angrily. "They deserved it." Molly hardened her gaze. "Tell me you don't think that." He gave her a cold stare and saw as the hope washed down her face. "You should leave," Gellert said after awhile, yet she still stood there as if she was frozen. "Go," he told her and Gellert felt his body flying backwards to hit a wall. He growled as he came to a stand. "And mother said I was impulsive." "I won't let you just sully our parents and the family name, Gellert." "You can't stop me though. You're weak. You are nothing to me, but another speck in a world full of dust."
Gellert came towards her so that he was only a few inches away from her face. "I said go...Molly," He spit the last word out like poison, but she didn't move. "You don't have a right to tell me who or what I am when you are the reason why you lose everything." Gellert was taken aback by the comment, but it had been awhile since he'd seen his sister. He'd forgotten the temper she had. How easily she could be pushed. "You will never have anything in this world if you keep running away from it." Gellert shook his head. "What I would do to you if we were not family," he hissed. "I think you've grown soft. You're older now. As I said, weak." Molly pulled out her wand and pointed it at him, but Gellert didn't even flinch. "We both know you won't. You never could." Molly began breathing heavy and Gellert watched as her eyes fluttered. "Mildred?" He asked and gasped as she fell to her knees before him.
Gellert forgot everything and kneeled in front of her to let her body rest against his chest. "Mildred...what's going on," he said, pulling away from her. She put her fingers to her head as if it hurt and shook her head. "Can't...remember..." "Shake out of this," he told her as if it would help. "Come on now," he said and shook her a little. Molly sighed and looked tiredly up at him. "I don't know what's wrong with me." "Why don't you sit," he said helping her up and leading her over to the chair. Molly looked dazed for a moment as she sat down and sighed. "I drink the tea, but it's not helping anymore so I stopped." Gellert raised his eyebrows. "Mother said you were never to stop." "I...know. It's just not working anymore." Gellert shook his head. "Why did you not tell me?"
"Brother, you haven't been here for years. No one has seen you," she rasped out. "I came here to get into the chest." One of Gellert's brows raised. "The little chest that father kept behind the portrait in the hallway?" Molly nodded and weakly unclipped the purse's silver latches to pull out a piece of crumpled parchment. "This is powerful enough to reverse the effects." Gellert took the parchment from his sister's hand and tapped it lightly on his knee. "Mother had this same thing. These memory lapses..." Gellert paused as sighed as if he were playing a small game and forgot to add another piece to the board. "No one ever knew, did they?" He saw Mildred gulp and he looked down at the slip of parchment in his hands.
"I never knew the family was cursed; well, the women it seems. I may not like you, but you are my sister. You're blood Mildred and I will do whatever is needed to aid you." He swore he saw a faint smile spread across her face. "Now, now. I'm not a saint. I owe you a favor anyways." Gellert unfurled the slip and gazed at a simple picture. It was drawn with charcoal; two lines stretching down to meet each other, a crooked tip with curves, a few round edges towards the tip, and the color was a pure white pastel. It was a wand. In a small margin below the drawing in cursive, it read: the Elder Wand.