"Ahhh... This was wonderful!"
I couldn't help but agree with Grindelwald, as the feast that his automatons hosted was just as good as the ones we had in Hogwarts. Be it the soup, chicken, the mashed potato, or the different sauces... it was simply superb. Right now, we were enjoying some ice cream, slowly munching on it, sitting at the big, round table opposite Grindelwald, who changed into an elegant, crimson shirt and black pants, looking like a refined noble.
"Now... Where were we?" He asked, twirling wine in his glass.
"Good question." I answered, enjoying my vanilla dessert. "We told you what we know of Voldemort, and you know more about Dumbledore than we."
"True... hm, but I need to think. Let's go through the details." He hummed, tapping on the table, closing his eyes for a moment. "You say he was destroyed in body by your father, yes?"
"I saw it happen." I answered calmly, but my hand did squeezed the bowl I was holding before relaxing.
"So he came back from death. Do you all know what this means?"
"Horcrux." Quincy answered, and I saw him nod, looking at us with proud eyes.
"I am surprised you know about it."
"We... learned a lot." I whispered, sitting up straight in my chair. "And we also suspect he has more than one. For sure, because from what we could learn, the Order of the Phoenix is working to destroy them to make Voldemort killable."
"How many would he have?"
"Well..." We looked at each other, not really thinking about it too much, "Maybe three? Or four?"
"Incredible... We never imagined that would be possible..."
"We?"
"Yes, Young Quincy. We, Albus and I did studied the dark art of creating a Horcrux."
"And you didn't make one?" I blurted out, which he answered with a soft laugh.
"We debated it but decided against it. You see, we were planning on doing one, but the cost was too much. Thinking back, I am glad I did not give in; I would have regretted it."
"I learned that killing shatters a soul... I know that a Horcrux uses it somehow."
"Not entirely, Young Conrad. Killing does not do that. Killing is part of nature, or how would a predator stay alive? No. Killing does not shatter the soul... the malice behind the act of killing that does it. The negative feelings, all released in the moment of the kill, are what injures the soul."
"So... there is a difference?" I murmured, watching him lean forward and continue explaining it.
"Yes. When you kill out of necessity, it's different than when you kill for a more malicious reason. There are times when people only have one chance to save others, and that is by killing. The intent is completely different behind that than a wanton massacre. Creating a Horcrux requires malice because it is what cracks the soul, and then you grab onto that crack and tear off that weakened part! It is self-mutilation."
"Does it hurt?" Quincy asked, gulping, and for a moment, he didn't answer.
"I can't answer it. But it should. Very much so. You are tearing yourself apart and sealing it in an object. As long as that object lives, you live. Even if you die, you still have a slice of your soul from which you will be able to come back. But..."
"But?"
"You are no longer complete. You are no longer whole. Pursuing magic to its core is going to be impossible in that state. We deemed it too costly, so we abandoned the idea. Heh!"
"What is it?" We asked, seeing him chuckle.
"I wish I could have seen when Albus learned that this Voldemort has created Horcruxes and multiple ones at that!"
"Why...? He should have known it, no?"
"I am sure he did not even consider it. You see, when we studied it, we deemed it a failed and bad spell. The one copy of the ancient codex I had detailing the spell was destroyed so others wouldn't learn of its existence. So, he wouldn't consider someone comprehending it. Then, even if they did, one Horcrux would be what he could imagine. We came to the conclusion that creating two would already be tantamount to suicide! More than that...? Impossible..."
"Yet he did it... We are sure of it."
"That is why I said, impressive. He is truly a master. I would dare to rank him above many ancient wizards, be it Merlin, Salazar, or legends like Herpo. You see, the feat alone that he managed to shatter his soul so many times is proof of his mental prowess. If he had focused on discovering magic, he could have gone far. Really far... What a shame."
"So he would have not thought about it for a long time... huh..." I whispered, finding it funny but infuriating because maybe my father would have had a different life... and perhaps still live.
"I am sure that he did not. Okay! So, we know what Voldemort's strengths and weaknesses are. If you are right, I am sure he also guarding his remaining Horcruxes with all he has. As long as they are intact, he can return... My advice would be to leave him be. For now, I would wait and let Albus deal with him. Their fight won't end soon and won't end peacefully. If you want your revenge on Voldemort, then it is also the best option to wait for the perfect time to strike."
"I want that, but... I don't know if I could face him. When I stood face to face with him, I was afraid. I would have no chance..."
"Good. Your instincts are at least working!" He smiled while clapping, "You wouldn't. You both are still young and relatively inexperienced. But this is also the best time for you to improve!"
"We had a thought of using muggle inventions." Quincy added, telling him about what we saw while living with them.
"I know. I advise you against it. You may think that their inventions would give you an advantage, but you would place yourselves in harm's way. Many wizarding counter-spells and, many times, simply the presence of magic make their gadgets malfunction. I know this because my last talk with Albus was after the muggles' biggest war had ended. He told me that although I was right in pointing out the danger they were posing, I was also wrong in that they would turn those weapons against us, wizardkind. Or even if they did, how dangerous that would be. He told me that their technological advancement made them so proud and sure of themselves that they no longer believed in magic. Even if they see it happen before their eyes."
"Dumbledore said that?" I asked, feeling surprised as it was very similar to what Voldemort believed. That the muggles were not worthy of consideration at all.
"Not the way you think, young Conrad. He meant that our two worlds are not in danger of butting heads. Well... maybe after what had happened in your home country, this is no longer true, but... it didn't happen yet, did it?"
"No, it did not."
"What Albus meant is that my fears were wrongly placed. They won't destroy us, and we are not living in the last years of the wizarding world. Back then, he was still... hopeful."
"I don't understand..." Quincy whispered, recalling her experience with Dumbledore, "He looked kind and nice on the surface, but he forced everything I knew out of me without asking. When he interrogated me, there were no choices given, and he even played with my memories!"
"Yes, that is the Albus I met when we were young." Grindelwald smiled, leaning back, pure nostalgia appearing on his face. "He was a confident and decisive young wizard. That is why only he could understand me as I was the same. He always appeared refined and collected, but deep within, his ambitions were higher than anyone else's. He knew how to manipulate others and make them come to a decision he desired. He was a good manipulator."
"He should still be one..." I whispered, averting my eyes, "He even..." But I didn't finish. No... he didn't need to convince my father. He was willing to do it out of... revenge. Revenge... am I becoming... the same?
"Well," the old dark wizard shrugged after he gave me enough time to speak up but refused to do so, "that was how he was initially. Maybe the current events brought him back to those times, but I must tell you. After the death of his sister, he did change. His views remained the same, but his methods were different, and even his ultimate goal was altered."
"What was his goal?" Quincy asked, making me raise my head back up, watching him answer us.
"After Albus defeated me, the Elder Wand fell into his hands. He vowed that he would not let history repeat itself and teach the next generation to avoid the same mistakes that we did not. To raise wizards and witches who were not like us. He regularly visited me here, but I refused to budge. You see, it took me a long time to look at things differently."
"Yet he left you here all alone, did he not?" I argued, which Grindelwald did not refute.
"Yes, because I wasn't changing. Even after decades of being locked up, I was still touting the same ideals. He had no other choice but to pronounce me unredeemable. He emptied the castle, raised the outer defenses with all the other top mages of the decade, and left me alone with one automaton active. He was a friend until the end..."
"What a good friend..."
"He was, Young Conrad. I was to be executed; it did not happen because of him. I don't know what he thought would happen; maybe he did hope I would change. Whatever it was, the 50 years of solitude and silence did transform me. Many times, I wonder if he kept seeing me, would it happen? Probably not, because those visits kept me linked to my old self, my old ideals, never being able to break free of them. What I can tell you, with utmost certainty, is that he was a different Albus Dumbledore, one that was kind, not because he could manipulate others with it, but because he believed in it. He believed in others and in redemption... but..."
"Voldemort..." We said simultaneously, watching him let out a long, dejected sigh.
"I am afraid his rise to power and the failure of Albus's new outlook may have reverted everything. If my thinking is right, he must have returned to the Dumbledore I met all those years ago. Heh... balance..."
"Hm?" We hummed, tilting our heads like some kind of pair in a comedy show.
"Nothing, young ones. It is not something that you need to worry about yet! Let's end our chat for tonight here. I did enjoy it very much, but now I am longing to sleep in a proper bed. Tomorrow, we will train!"
"Train?"
"Yes. Although I am sure that most of my treasures and supplies were removed when I was left alone to rot, I intend to train you two before we leave. I can't and won't be your weapon... but I can be your mentor. Guardian... until you are ready. I will teach you, and it will be up to you to decide how to use my knowledge."
We watched as he left the room, heading to his chambers. I was left thinking in my seat before Quincy also stood up, holding my hand and pulling on it.
"Come... we should sleep too."
"Yeah, that sounds right. You know, I was thinking."
"I know; it is written all over your face!" She giggled, kissing my cheeks.
"Ha-ha-ha... haaaahh... Isn't it weird?"
"Weird, what?"
"That we seemingly tend to find all the ancient, dark wizards to guide us... Herpo? Salazar? Now, Grindelwald?"
"Huh... now that you mention it..." She murmured, thinking before we both began laughing, returning to our bedroom for the night.
"Ahhh... This was wonderful!"
I couldn't help but agree with Grindelwald, as the feast that his automatons hosted was just as good as the ones we had in Hogwarts. Be it the soup, chicken, the mashed potato, or the different sauces... it was simply superb. Right now, we were enjoying some ice cream, slowly munching on it, sitting at the big, round table opposite Grindelwald, who changed into an elegant, crimson shirt and black pants, looking like a refined noble.
"Now... Where were we?" He asked, twirling wine in his glass.
"Good question." I answered, enjoying my vanilla dessert. "We told you what we know of Voldemort, and you know more about Dumbledore than we."
"True... hm, but I need to think. Let's go through the details." He hummed, tapping on the table, closing his eyes for a moment. "You say he was destroyed in body by your father, yes?"
"I saw it happen." I answered calmly, but my hand did squeezed the bowl I was holding before relaxing.
"So he came back from death. Do you all know what this means?"
"Horcrux." Quincy answered, and I saw him nod, looking at us with proud eyes.
"I am surprised you know about it."
"We... learned a lot." I whispered, sitting up straight in my chair. "And we also suspect he has more than one. For sure, because from what we could learn, the Order of the Phoenix is working to destroy them to make Voldemort killable."
"How many would he have?"
"Well..." We looked at each other, not really thinking about it too much, "Maybe three? Or four?"
"Incredible... We never imagined that would be possible..."
"We?"
"Yes, Young Quincy. We, Albus and I did studied the dark art of creating a Horcrux."
"And you didn't make one?" I blurted out, which he answered with a soft laugh.
"We debated it but decided against it. You see, we were planning on doing one, but the cost was too much. Thinking back, I am glad I did not give in; I would have regretted it."
"I learned that killing shatters a soul... I know that a Horcrux uses it somehow."
"Not entirely, Young Conrad. Killing does not do that. Killing is part of nature, or how would a predator stay alive? No. Killing does not shatter the soul... the malice behind the act of killing that does it. The negative feelings, all released in the moment of the kill, are what injures the soul."
"So... there is a difference?" I murmured, watching him lean forward and continue explaining it.
"Yes. When you kill out of necessity, it's different than when you kill for a more malicious reason. There are times when people only have one chance to save others, and that is by killing. The intent is completely different behind that than a wanton massacre. Creating a Horcrux requires malice because it is what cracks the soul, and then you grab onto that crack and tear off that weakened part! It is self-mutilation."
"Does it hurt?" Quincy asked, gulping, and for a moment, he didn't answer.
"I can't answer it. But it should. Very much so. You are tearing yourself apart and sealing it in an object. As long as that object lives, you live. Even if you die, you still have a slice of your soul from which you will be able to come back. But..."
"But?"
"You are no longer complete. You are no longer whole. Pursuing magic to its core is going to be impossible in that state. We deemed it too costly, so we abandoned the idea. Heh!"
"What is it?" We asked, seeing him chuckle.
"I wish I could have seen when Albus learned that this Voldemort has created Horcruxes and multiple ones at that!"
"Why...? He should have known it, no?"
"I am sure he did not even consider it. You see, when we studied it, we deemed it a failed and bad spell. The one copy of the ancient codex I had detailing the spell was destroyed so others wouldn't learn of its existence. So, he wouldn't consider someone comprehending it. Then, even if they did, one Horcrux would be what he could imagine. We came to the conclusion that creating two would already be tantamount to suicide! More than that...? Impossible..."
"Yet he did it... We are sure of it."
"That is why I said, impressive. He is truly a master. I would dare to rank him above many ancient wizards, be it Merlin, Salazar, or legends like Herpo. You see, the feat alone that he managed to shatter his soul so many times is proof of his mental prowess. If he had focused on discovering magic, he could have gone far. Really far... What a shame."
"So he would have not thought about it for a long time... huh..." I whispered, finding it funny but infuriating because maybe my father would have had a different life... and perhaps still live.
"I am sure that he did not. Okay! So, we know what Voldemort's strengths and weaknesses are. If you are right, I am sure he also guarding his remaining Horcruxes with all he has. As long as they are intact, he can return... My advice would be to leave him be. For now, I would wait and let Albus deal with him. Their fight won't end soon and won't end peacefully. If you want your revenge on Voldemort, then it is also the best option to wait for the perfect time to strike."
"I want that, but... I don't know if I could face him. When I stood face to face with him, I was afraid. I would have no chance..."
"Good. Your instincts are at least working!" He smiled while clapping, "You wouldn't. You both are still young and relatively inexperienced. But this is also the best time for you to improve!"
"We had a thought of using muggle inventions." Quincy added, telling him about what we saw while living with them.
"I know. I advise you against it. You may think that their inventions would give you an advantage, but you would place yourselves in harm's way. Many wizarding counter-spells and, many times, simply the presence of magic make their gadgets malfunction. I know this because my last talk with Albus was after the muggles' biggest war had ended. He told me that although I was right in pointing out the danger they were posing, I was also wrong in that they would turn those weapons against us, wizardkind. Or even if they did, how dangerous that would be. He told me that their technological advancement made them so proud and sure of themselves that they no longer believed in magic. Even if they see it happen before their eyes."
"Dumbledore said that?" I asked, feeling surprised as it was very similar to what Voldemort believed. That the muggles were not worthy of consideration at all.
"Not the way you think, young Conrad. He meant that our two worlds are not in danger of butting heads. Well... maybe after what had happened in your home country, this is no longer true, but... it didn't happen yet, did it?"
"No, it did not."
"What Albus meant is that my fears were wrongly placed. They won't destroy us, and we are not living in the last years of the wizarding world. Back then, he was still... hopeful."
"I don't understand..." Quincy whispered, recalling her experience with Dumbledore, "He looked kind and nice on the surface, but he forced everything I knew out of me without asking. When he interrogated me, there were no choices given, and he even played with my memories!"
"Yes, that is the Albus I met when we were young." Grindelwald smiled, leaning back, pure nostalgia appearing on his face. "He was a confident and decisive young wizard. That is why only he could understand me as I was the same. He always appeared refined and collected, but deep within, his ambitions were higher than anyone else's. He knew how to manipulate others and make them come to a decision he desired. He was a good manipulator."
"He should still be one..." I whispered, averting my eyes, "He even..." But I didn't finish. No... he didn't need to convince my father. He was willing to do it out of... revenge. Revenge... am I becoming... the same?
"Well," the old dark wizard shrugged after he gave me enough time to speak up but refused to do so, "that was how he was initially. Maybe the current events brought him back to those times, but I must tell you. After the death of his sister, he did change. His views remained the same, but his methods were different, and even his ultimate goal was altered."
"What was his goal?" Quincy asked, making me raise my head back up, watching him answer us.
"After Albus defeated me, the Elder Wand fell into his hands. He vowed that he would not let history repeat itself and teach the next generation to avoid the same mistakes that we did not. To raise wizards and witches who were not like us. He regularly visited me here, but I refused to budge. You see, it took me a long time to look at things differently."
"Yet he left you here all alone, did he not?" I argued, which Grindelwald did not refute.
"Yes, because I wasn't changing. Even after decades of being locked up, I was still touting the same ideals. He had no other choice but to pronounce me unredeemable. He emptied the castle, raised the outer defenses with all the other top mages of the decade, and left me alone with one automaton active. He was a friend until the end..."
"What a good friend..."
"He was, Young Conrad. I was to be executed; it did not happen because of him. I don't know what he thought would happen; maybe he did hope I would change. Whatever it was, the 50 years of solitude and silence did transform me. Many times, I wonder if he kept seeing me, would it happen? Probably not, because those visits kept me linked to my old self, my old ideals, never being able to break free of them. What I can tell you, with utmost certainty, is that he was a different Albus Dumbledore, one that was kind, not because he could manipulate others with it, but because he believed in it. He believed in others and in redemption... but..."
"Voldemort..." We said simultaneously, watching him let out a long, dejected sigh.
"I am afraid his rise to power and the failure of Albus's new outlook may have reverted everything. If my thinking is right, he must have returned to the Dumbledore I met all those years ago. Heh... balance..."
"Hm?" We hummed, tilting our heads like some kind of pair in a comedy show.
"Nothing, young ones. It is not something that you need to worry about yet! Let's end our chat for tonight here. I did enjoy it very much, but now I am longing to sleep in a proper bed. Tomorrow, we will train!"
"Train?"
"Yes. Although I am sure that most of my treasures and supplies were removed when I was left alone to rot, I intend to train you two before we leave. I can't and won't be your weapon... but I can be your mentor. Guardian... until you are ready. I will teach you, and it will be up to you to decide how to use my knowledge."
We watched as he left the room, heading to his chambers. I was left thinking in my seat before Quincy also stood up, holding my hand and pulling on it.
"Come... we should sleep too."
"Yeah, that sounds right. You know, I was thinking."
"I know; it is written all over your face!" She giggled, kissing my cheeks.
"Ha-ha-ha... haaaahh... Isn't it weird?"
"Weird, what?"
"That we seemingly tend to find all the ancient, dark wizards to guide us... Herpo? Salazar? Now, Grindelwald?"
"Huh... now that you mention it..." She murmured, thinking before we both began laughing, returning to our bedroom for the night.
