In the towering halls of Nurmengard Castle, Grindelwald paced restlessly, his eyes ablaze with anticipation.
It has been months since he got any news about the task he assigned to his subordinates. They fail spectacularly when the auction takes place, the amount of money and the presence of Dumbledore in the auction stop him or his subordinates from acting.
That was the best time to get the squib potion, but seeing how limited the quantity of the potions was, he had no way but to give up. Snatching the potion from someone else would cause too much ruckus than necessary.
Almost everyone who got the potion in the auction back in July was no normal witch or wizard that he could silent them and snatch the potion from them. Almost everyone was either a person of high importance from other countries or a very powerful wizards and witches themselves.
So to his ire, he has to wait until the squib potion finally gets available in the market again.
He awaited the arrival of his loyal subordinates, eager to receive the latest developments in their quest for power.
"Power," Grindelwald mutters slowly.
'That's what I am lagging right now the most...
There was a haze in his eyes, his fist clenched and he was barely holding himself up. Years of captivation in the prison of his own making not only hit him mentally but more physically.
He is an old man now, lacks any power, he poses no danger to anyone.
But that doesn't mean he lacks ambition. No, if anything his ambition was even bigger than what it was at the time of his fall.
Grindelwalds eyes narrow with anger deep inside them. He still remembers what happened back then.
He could have won the fight against Dumbledore. But...
He was alone in the prison room. The only sound of his own foot was resounding in the empty prison cell only consisting of him alone. Maybe that is why even the sound of his gritting teeth was heard by the walls.
"I never lost, I was betrayed..." The sound was soft but the anger in his voice could have melted the magically infused bars of a prison.
He wanted to say this to someone, say that Grindlewald is no worse than Dumbledore but there was no one to hear him.
Even after his subordinates believe in his words they don't understand the reason.
Hell, he could do anything but sigh, because ultimately no matter what the story really was, he was the loser and Dumbledore was the winner.
He had to stay in this prison all those years, away from the wizarding world. But unlike what others and even Dumbledore think, Grindelwald was never here to repent for what he did.
He was waiting here, waiting for a miracle to happen. Something which can bring him back to the world of magic.
No one put him in his prison, he himself entered here. This prison was made by no one else other than he himself. It was not to hold him but to protect him.
And now finally after years of waiting, he got his chance...
As he gazed out over the sprawling grounds below, his mind raced with thoughts of the Squib potion.
A potent elixir rumoured to bestow magical abilities upon those born without them. He never thought that he would ever need something like that in his life.
But that was his reality right now. The only thing which was keeping him alive was the prison he made for himself.
He was nothing but an old man without any magic.
For years he has been a squib, since he lost his fight with Dumbledore.
'It was none other than...'
Grindelwald didn't continue his thought anymore. There is no point in doing so... because he has done that countless times and none of the time it changes his reality.
But...
With such a potion in his possession, Grindelwald could bolster his ranks with an army of Squibs, their latent potential and more than anything he could regain his power.
"This gift given to me to see fate... it the only thing in this world which has yet to betray me. It saved my life once, now my entire life is ...." Grindelwald quickly shut his mouth.
Because he heard a sound.
At long last, the sound of footsteps echoed through the corridors, heralding the arrival of his trusted followers. With a sense of urgency, they presented him with the vials of Squib potion, their contents shimmering with untold power.
Grindelwald, who was barely walking and even had trouble standing straight earlier straightened his curve back. It doesn't matter to show his weakness when no one is around but in front of his subordinates, he can't.
He slowly took the potion bottle without saying anything.
Grindelwald's lips curled into a satisfied smile as he accepted the potion, his fingers tracing the smooth glass surface with reverence.
Without wasting time he opened the bottle and drank the potion.
The golden potion entered his throat and gave him a sweet feeling but the taste was nothing but water.
Coconut water?
Even Grindelwald was surprised when he could feel anything in the potion. Even after waiting a few seconds, there was nothing.
Grindelwald pondered whether the squib potion wasn't useful on him. Maybe this is not the real potion. Maybe it's only useful on squibs from birth?
There were many questions he wanted to ask, he almost opened his mouth to ask about the authenticity of the potion but before he could do that, there was a warm feeling in his body.
His eyes widen.
"This..."
Finally felt it, the long lost feeling of magic in his blood.'
"It's back,"
He stood there in a daze for minutes, trying to accumulate all of his magic slowly. He felt like he was a young boy again. This was the same feeling that he felt when he used magic for the first time.
The magic was weak, and it was completely out of control. But this was enough.
He can get stronger again just like he did back then. A smile appears on his face.
"Call all the Alliance Members.
It's finally time...
xxx
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