Year 7-15: The Seer and the Unseen

Harry sat frozen in his seat, unsure of what to do. One of the most feared Dark wizards of the century was here, in the Great Hall, and not a single student was aware of it. Was this the trap Voldemort had prepared all along? Was Snape in on it? Were Death Eaters about to pour into the Hall to kill Harry then and there?

He forced himself to breathe, to think rationally about the situation. Grindelwald did not appear threatening in the moment; he had returned to his seat, calmly resuming his meal as Snape wrapped up his opening remarks. He must be here for a reason, if he'd gone to the trouble of forging a false identity and assuming a role on the staff. And if he hadn't spilled Harry's secrets to ruin his life yet, he must have further motives Harry was not yet aware of.

When the meal was dismissed, Harry joined the throngs of students exiting the Hall to return to his dorm. He needed to write to Fleur straight away to figure out his next moves. But he would not get the chance to gather his thoughts.

"Mr. Potter! A word?"

Harry turned, blood chilling as 'Professor Gorschev' hobbled over to him in the Entrance Hall, leaning heavily on a cane. Harry had to force himself not to plunge his hand into his robes and defend himself automatically...he wouldn't attack me in a crowd of students, would he?

"Professor Gorschev," Harry said neutrally, inclining his head.

"I've heard much about you from abroad," said Grindelwald with a toothy grin. "It is an honor to meet you in person. I wondered if I might have a moment of your time, perhaps in my office?"

"Right here is fine," said Harry. He had no intention of going anywhere alone with Grindelwald – he wanted as many witnesses as possible, in case the man tried something.

Grindelwald laughed, hobbling a bit closer. Harry felt the magic around them shift as the man cast a wordless Privacy Charm around them. "So you do recognize me, I gather," he grinned. "I had worried you would not remember me."

"You're a hard man to forget, Gellert," said Harry.

"As are you, Harry," Grindelwald grinned. "I can only imagine the terror you must be feeling right now. Bet you were not expecting to see me again, were you?"

"It wasn't in my plans for the evening," Harry deadpanned. "I suppose you've had a change of heart, then? Decided to put aside your plans of world domination and settle down into academia?"

"Very funny," Grindelwald chuckled. "My days of global conquest are behind me, I fear. Why exert myself to subjugate Muggles when someone is already doing it for me? I was delighted to meet your friend Tom when he paid me a visit two weeks ago. I'd heard so much about his blood purity efforts in Britain, and I expressed my admiration for his work."

"So he did go to Nurmengard," Harry muttered. "I suppose he offered you a place in his new regime?"

"Heavens, no," Grindelwald scoffed. "In fact, he had every intention of torturing me for information before doing away with me forever. You and Albus certainly understated how cruel and heartless Tom can be."

"But he didn't kill you," Harry remarked. "What happened?"

"I gave him exactly what he wanted," Grindelwald shrugged. "I told him what I knew of the Deathstick. That it was stolen from me by Dumbledore. That he had expressed his desire to pass it on to the Longbottom boy. This seemed to confirm whatever suspicions Tom had coming into our meeting."

"So you didn't tell him anything he didn't already know," said Harry. "Then why did he let you live?"

"Thanks to Albus, I knew Tom's primary weakness," said Grindelwald. "And that is his fear of the unknown. He knew I was a Seer, and I told him about my visions of his future. That I saw him being stalked by Death itself, in the form of a teenage boy, determined to hunt him down until it reclaimed his soul forever."

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. He knew Grindelwald was far too clever for the ambiguity to be a coincidence. He had not specified whether it was Harry or Neville stalking Voldemort. But he and Harry both knew perfectly well who it really was, despite what Voldemort believed.

"Why didn't you tell him what we discussed last summer?" asked Harry.

"Never reveal your ace in the hole so early, Harry," Grindelwald winked. "Tom Riddle is a volatile creature, but a predictable one. He only tolerates those who can provide him something in exchange. He saw the value in keeping me around as a confidant and expert in prophecy, so that he would not be so blindsided by the future again."

"Then why waste your time at Hogwarts?" Harry demanded. "Surely you can be more useful at Voldemort's right hand."

"I spent over fifty years in a cell deprived of magic," said Grindelwald. "Hogwarts is situated on a leyline, a site of potent magical energy. I can think of no more suitable place to recover from my magical starvation. Once I have my strength back, I will be able to join the Dark Lord's service and enjoy the spoils of being his most trusted lieutenant."

"Spare me," Harry scoffed. "You wouldn't be here, posing as a teacher, unless you felt it was worth your time. So what's your plan? Do you intend to get me alone and kill me before I become a bigger threat to you?"

"On the contrary," said Grindelwald. "We're allies now, Harry! We serve the same master. Should we not celebrate?" As if to make his point, Grindelwald rolled up his sleeve to reveal his own Dark Mark, freshly applied upon his left forearm. Harry eyed it warily...it was at least evidence that Grindelwald was telling the truth, that he had entered Voldemort's service, but he still felt uncomfortable.

"What do you want from me?" he asked.

"Nothing at all, my boy!" Grindelwald grinned. "I'll keep your secret if you keep mine. Once Tom has the world under his thumb, we can enjoy the spoils together without fear of hiding who we are."

Harry wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Grindelwald seemed sincere enough – non-threatening and genial in his approach. He could sense the man's magical signature was indeed very weak – he would be no match for Harry in his current state. But he also knew that Grindelwald's true danger lay not in his physical strength, but his intellect. He was too smart and cunning to be trusted at face value.

"Well, I'm afraid these old bones can't hold me up for much longer," Grindelwald chuckled. "I must retire to my quarters to rest. I look forward to working with you, Harry Potter." And he turned to hobble back across the Entrance Hall, his cane clacking loudly against the stone.

Kill him now, the Elder Wand whispered in his ear. He's too dangerous to let live. He must be terminated as soon as possible.

Harry was sorely tempted to agree. Grindelwald was a live hand grenade, threatening to detonate at any moment and destroy all he'd been working towards. But what could he logically do about it? Killing the man here in Hogwarts would only cause more problems...Voldemort would quickly surmise the truth, raising uncomfortable questions about Harry's motives. And knowing Grindelwald, he likely had fail-safes in place, designed to ensure anyone who raised a wand against him would suffer for it. Harry did not know what to do.

He rushed up to his dorm and dug through his trunk for the enchanted diary. Grindelwald is alive, he scribbled hastily. He's posing as a professor until he regains his strength. I don't trust him and fear he's going to ruin me. He knows too much. Should I kill him? Should I tell Snape and ask for his help in getting rid of him? What do I do?

Harry sat anxiously, watching as the fresh ink disappeared into the parchment, waiting for Fleur to respond. Too nervous to sit still, he got up and forced himself to endure a cold shower, hoping the chill would clear his brain. But it only served to agitate him further, fearing Grindelwald might burst through the door in this vulnerable moment to strike him dead while his guard was down.

When he returned to his desk, Fleur's return message was waiting for him. Calm down, she wrote. Get some sleep and mull it over in the morning. If he wanted you dead, you would be dead already.

Harry could not believe her message was so short and nonchalant. But the more he re-read it, the more it made sense to him. Grindelwald was not the kind of person to forewarn you of your impending doom...he would much rather stab a dangerous enemy like Harry in the back. He needed to think about this logically, and could not do so in his current flustered state. He needed to take a breather and sleep on the problem – as usual, Fleur had the best possible advice for the situation.

Just to be sure, Harry checked the Marauder's Map before tucking himself into bed. The dot marked 'Gellert Grindelwald' was clear on the other side of the castle, nestled in his quarters for the night. It was disconcerting to even see the man's name on the map at all, but at least it appeared he was not a threat for the time being. So after throwing every protective enchantment he could think of at the door to his dorm, Harry stowed the Map under his pillow and forced himself to get some shut-eye.

He woke shortly before dawn, as he often did, and got up for his customary run around the grounds. As he worked off some of the excess energy he had built up, he pondered what he ought to do. He decided he was not afraid of Grindelwald in a physical sense...the man was not currently capable of overpowering Harry. At least in the short term, the man posed no threat to his personal well-being.

But Harry knew the man's true danger was in his mind – his influence. He needed to warn his loved ones to be wary around the man, to not give him anything more to work with. Grindelwald would likely seek to manipulate those around Harry, to shape their malleable minds to his will. And Harry could not allow that to happen.

He would also need to have a conversation with Snape to determine what he knew. Had he made the appointment himself? Or was he as in the dark about this as everyone else? Mostly Harry just needed to deduce what Grindelwald's long-term plans were...while he might pretend to be affable and living moment to moment, he knew there must be a more sinister motive at play.

Grindelwald did not appear for breakfast in the Great Hall that morning. A quick consultation of the Marauder's Map told Harry that he was still in his quarters...perhaps he truly did need all the rest he could get to recover from half a century of magical deprivation. That was the one thing allowing Harry to breathe easy in such a perilous situation.

As the meal winded down, Harry stood to patrol the House tables, acting in his duties as Head Boy. "Tuck in your shirt, Creevey," he admonished the sixth-year Gryffindor as he walked past. He tapped Dahlia on the shoulder in passing; he did the same when he walked by Damian at the Hufflepuff table, and Daphne at the Head Table. They thankfully all got the message, and when he exited the Great Hall soon after, they were waiting for him off to one side.

"What is it this time, idiot?" Dahlia huffed. "I have class in five minutes."

"I know, I'll make it quick," said Harry, drawing in close. "Are any of you taking Divination this year?"

All three shook their head no. "Father says Divination is crock magic," said Daphne. "Not worth my time."

"Mine either," said Dahlia. "No time for it with my mentorship with Pomfrey."

"I dropped it last year," said Damian. "Professor Firenze weirded me out."

"Be very careful around Professor Gorschev," Harry warned them. "He may seem kind and harmless, but he's the most dangerous man in the castle. Do not go anywhere alone with him, and do not give him any personal information about yourselves. Got it?"

"Why not?" Daphne frowned. "Who is he?"

Harry hesitated, unsure if he wanted to divulge the man's true identity with them. There was no sense in scaring them, he supposed, so he would settle for a half-truth. "He's a new recruit of Voldemort's," said Harry. "I don't know why he's been stationed at Hogwarts, but it's probably nothing good for us. So just be careful, will you?"

"Understood," said Damian. The two girls nodded as well.

The bell rang shortly after, and everyone dispersed to attend their classes. Harry's day began in Potions class...he watched his mother begin her lecture, wondering if she too was aware of the danger lurking within these halls. He could not tip her off directly, knowing she was being watched. It was yet another reason to speak with Snape as soon as possible and figure out what he knew.

Harry was antsy all throughout the day's lessons, still uncomfortable sharing a castle with a Dark Lord. He checked the Map hourly to keep an eye on Grindelwald; the man seemed to only spend time in his classroom or his adjoining quarters, rarely deviating between the two. Harry didn't like the idea of Grindelwald having access to such young, naive minds, but he supposed it was no worse than Amycus Carrow. At least there was no immediate threat to their physical well-being.

Harry had a free period that afternoon, which he typically spent in the library working on homework. A quick glance at the Map told him that Snape was alone in his office – now was as good a time as any to talk. He made his way to the Headmaster's Office, approaching the stone gargoyle standing guard at the foot of the stairs.

"Move," Harry barked. The gargoyle eyed him impassively for a moment, before leaping aside and granting him access. Did it always take orders from the Head Boy? Or had Snape instructed it to let him through without a password? He wouldn't question it, as he ascended the spiral steps and entered the office with a brisk knock.

Snape was poring over documents at his desk when Harry walked in. "I do not recall arranging a meeting this afternoon, Potter," he muttered without looking up.

"Too bad; it's an emergency," said Harry, sitting in the nearest armchair. "We need to talk about Professor Gorschev."

Snape looked up lazily at Harry. "What about him?" he asked.

"Why is he here?" Harry demanded. "What did Voldemort tell you?"

"And what makes you believe the Dark Lord was involved in his post at all?" Snape asked.

"Don't play coy with me," Harry huffed. "I know who he is. Are you not concerned with having another Dark Lord stationed in the castle, around innocent children?"

Snape's brow furrowed at this accusation. "So you are aware, then," he surmised. "The Dark Lord – ours, that is – informed me that he was to be stationed here temporarily, to recover his magical core. He will spend one term here before moving on to his next assignment."

"And you didn't think to question it?" Harry pressed. "Or wonder what Grindelwald's motives might be?"

"What is this about Grindelwald, then?" a voice piped up. Harry glanced up to the wall, where the portrait of former Headmaster Armando Dippet was looking on with concern. "You cannot mean to say that he is still alive?"

"He is," Harry confirmed. This set off a round of furious gossip from the surrounding portraits, until Snape held up a hand for silence.

"I do not know what you hope to alter about the fact that he is here," said Snape. "The best course of action for us would be to keep our heads down and let the term run its course, until he is no longer our problem."

"I disagree," said Harry. "He is weak now, and the longer we wait, the more powerful he will become. Wouldn't it be more prudent to deal with the issue before it becomes a threat to us?"

"The boy speaks of murder?" scoffed Phineas Nigellus Black. "What is this treachery?"

"You did not live through the worst of Gellert's crimes, Phineas," Dippet chided his fellow portrait. "I agree with the boy: no good can come of waiting for this problem to fester and become worse."

This set of a chain of heated arguments between the various portraits: "This is barbaric logic that we should have left behind in the Dark Ages!" "There is no reasoning with Dark Lords!" "Tyranny shall not stand!" "Does murder not make us any better than the tyrants?"

"ENOUGH!" Snape roared, causing the room to fall silent once more. "I fail to hear an appropriate course of action, Potter. Unless you mean to suggest killing the man in his bed, inviting an investigation from not only the Ministry, but the Dark Lord himself?"

"Why is the onus on me to have a plan?" Harry demanded. "You're the one in charge here! I'm telling you this is a problem...are you going to solve it, or leave me to clean up the mess myself?"

Snape glared at Harry angrily. "I am telling you to not draw undue attention to yourself," he said through gritted teeth. "You have a penchant for acting without thinking, and creating more problems with your ill-formed solutions. So why don't you let the adults handle this one?"

Harry stared at Snape in disbelief. He had not expected such a blasé, unconcerned reaction from the man. He stood in a huff and exited the office, slamming the door shut behind him. As he descended the spiral staircase, he faintly heard the portrait of Dippet say, "Oh dear, Severus...haven't you learned that the quickest way to make a student do something is to tell them not to do it?"

Instead of returning to the library, Harry went straight up to the Room of Requirement, which he hadn't visited quite as often this year. The familiar sight of the training arena awaited him inside, filled with dozens of dummies for him to fight. Harry drew the Elder Wand and dropped into a fighting stance, determined to let off some steam for a while.

He spent the next half-hour dancing around the arena, firing dangerous curses left and right. He had never felt more attuned to his body and magic, as though he could direct both to do whatever he wanted without more than a cursory thought. By the time he was finished he had worked himself into a deep sweat, with broken dummies piled high along the walls as evidence to his carnage. He had to summon a gust of wind to clear away the lingering smoke left behind by his destruction.

But he felt no better about his situation when he was done, returning to his dorm to shower and change. He hated being left in the dark, at the mercy of a madman. He needed to figure out what Grindelwald was after, what his true motives were. Only this time, there was no Snape dossier he could consult, no cheat sheet to tell him the man's strengths and weaknesses. Grindelwald was a complete enigma, and nobody alive could tell Harry how the man's mind worked.

A lightbulb went off in Harry's head. Nobody alive could tell him. But there was somebody dead who could.

He checked the Marauder's Map to ensure Daphne was still in class. Then he cast a Privacy Charm on the door and fished into his pockets for the Resurrection Stone. He took a deep breath, then turned it over three times and whispered, "Albus Dumbledore."

Harry felt the cold presence of Dumbledore's spirit arriving in the enclosed space. The man regarded Harry with a look of sadness, clearly not thrilled to be seeing him again.

"Hello again, Albus," Harry greeted the man.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, inclining his head. "I confess I had hoped not to be summoned again, as my soul wishes to rest."

"I understand, and I'm sorry," said Harry. "I wouldn't have called if it wasn't important."

"What is the problem?" Dumbledore sighed.

"Gellert Grindelwald," said Harry. "He's free, and he's here at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore blinked rapidly at this information. His demeanor immediately shifted from one of passive disappointment to active concern.

"Oh, dear," the man muttered.

"I need to understand what he is planning," said Harry. "He claims to be serving Voldemort faithfully, but somehow I doubt that's his true motive. You knew him better than anybody...what do you make of this?"

Dumbledore remained silent for a long while, deep in thought. "Gellert is a clever man," he finally said. "He recognizes that he must surrender to Voldemort's authority to survive. But make no mistake, he is not the kind of man to bow to another willingly."

"I suspected as much," Harry sighed. "So you don't think he plans on staying loyal to Voldemort forever."

"He will attach himself to Voldemort's hip for as long as possible," said Dumbledore. "I imagine he's magically quite frail right now and needs time to recover. But knowing Gellert as I do, he has only one thing on his mind, and that is returning to his former glory."

Harry nodded sullenly...he'd feared that to be the case. "He knows things about me that could ruin me," said Harry. "But he chose not to tell Voldemort. Why?"

Dumbledore considered this for a moment. "Gellert has a way of seeing people for who they truly are," he said. "Their essence, if you will. He told me that he sensed Death all around you, encompassing you like a blanket. He did this to scare me, of course, but I believe it scared him too. If there was one thing he and I shared as youths, it was a fear of death and a desire to escape it."

"He knows I sought the Hallows," said Harry. "And that I killed you. So he must have put two and two together to realize I have the Elder Wand."

"Which he will want to reclaim for himself," Dumbledore nodded.

"So why not rat me out?" Harry pressed. "Why let me keep it, while pretending to be my ally?"

"Because, no offense, you are just a boy," said Dumbledore. "Gellert would much rather you hold the wand than Voldemort. Once he regains his strength, he will no doubt seek to kill you to reclaim what he believes is rightfully his. If he spills the truth now, you will be killed and the Wand would become Voldemort's. And Gellert would rather fight a seventeen-year-old than another skilled Dark wizard."

That made perfect sense to Harry. "So he's biding his time," he concluded. "He's letting me believe everything is fine so I don't panic. Then once he's back to full strength, he'll try to take the Wand from me and use it to challenge Voldemort."

"That would be my suspicion as well," Dumbledore nodded. "And he knows you cannot act against him without drawing suspicion upon yourself, so he has positioned himself as close to you as possible, to keep a watchful eye on you and study your habits."

"He can try," Harry scoffed. "I find I can be rather unpredictable when I want to be."

"I would advise you not to willingly enter a battle of wits against Gellert Grindelwald, Harry," said Dumbledore. "He is smarter than anyone else I have ever met, and you will be outclassed. I do not mean to slight your abilities, but his intellect is unparalleled."

"I understand that," said Harry. "But he's already made several mistakes. And I intend to help him make several more."

"What mistakes are those?" asked Dumbledore.

"He accepted the Dark Mark," said Harry. "He doesn't know about the magic draining ability it confers to Voldemort. He won't be able to fight Voldemort without having his power stripped from him again."

"The same applies to you, I would like to point out," said Dumbledore.

"A problem I'm working to rectify as we speak," said Harry. "But that's not all. He's severely underestimated Voldemort."

"In what sense?"

"Grindelwald recognizes Voldemort is powerful," said Harry. "But he underestimates how smart he is in his own right. He probably sees him as a brute he can easily deceive when the time comes. Maybe because he saw how I was able to convince him to spare my family."

"Even I am surprised you managed to do so," Dumbledore admitted.

"It's only because Snape and I exploited his one weakness," said Harry. "Voldemort doesn't understand love. He thinks it is a weakness, that keeping us all alive forces us into compliance. But it has only pushed us to fight harder, to band together to overthrow him."

"I fail to see the connection to Gellert," Dumbledore frowned.

"Grindelwald doesn't realize that Voldemort is going to do away with everyone he views as a threat," said Harry. "There's no chance Voldemort would risk letting another Dark Lord exist in his regime. He too wants absolute power, with no question of who the most skilled and powerful wizard is. He'll use Grindelwald now, like he's using me and my family, but eventually that usefulness will wear out."

"Again, the same applies to you," said Dumbledore, still not getting Harry's point.

"Not if I can accelerate the process a little," said Harry. "Start planting seeds of doubt in Voldemort's mind. Make him realize what a threat Grindelwald is, so he'll cut him off at the knees before he can grow too powerful to challenge him."

"Perhaps you are making the same mistake of underestimating Tom," Dumbledore sighed. "You will only further endanger yourself by spreading falsehoods to a man who is quite good at deducing the truth."

"They wouldn't exactly be falsehoods, would they?" Harry pointed out. "Grindelwald is a threat – I just have to make Voldemort see that."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. He seemed to see the logic in Harry's plan. But he still seemed troubled by something.

"You mustn't let Gellert get a foothold in Britain, Harry," Dumbledore warned him. "He is twice as dangerous as Voldemort in a position of power. If even a fraction of Voldemort's support base remains after his defeat, Gellert will be able to manipulate them into doing his bidding."

"Understood," Harry nodded. "I'll make sure he never gets that chance."

"Wait, Harry!" Dumbledore said as Harry went to stow the Resurrection Stone away. "I must ask a favor of you before I go."

"What's that?"

Dumbledore hesitated before making his request, as though embarrassed by it. "I knew Gellert before he went mad with power," he said regretfully. "He was a good man. I know that good man is still in there somewhere. I only ask that if the opportunity comes – if you are able to spare his life, rather than kill him – I hope you might find it within you to be merciful."

Harry blinked at Dumbledore for a moment. He saw the sincerity in the man's expression, the bald hope that his old friend might one day be redeemed.

"You must be joking," Harry scoffed. "You do realize that all of this is your fault, right?"

Dumbledore looked surprised by this rebuke. "How do you mean, Harry?" he asked.

"You could have killed Grindelwald fifty years ago," said Harry. "You could have ended his threat against our world once and for all. You also could have pushed for the convicted Death Eaters to receive the death penalty after the last war ended. Instead, they're all free to terrorize Britain anew, so another generation is forced to suffer under their boot heels."

"Harry, that is a gross over-simplification—" Dumbledore protested.

"Save it," Harry spat. "I'm sure you thought you were doing the right thing by sparing their lives back then. But now you've created an even bigger mess with your unwillingness to do what is necessary. And as usual, it's up to me to clean up the mess you left behind." And without waiting for Dumbledore's response, he pocketed the Resurrection Stone, causing the man to fade from view.

Perhaps Harry was being too harsh in his rebuke of his former Headmaster. But he'd long ago become disillusioned with the man's passive worldview, trying to see the best in everyone and show mercy to those who did not deserve it. Now the monsters that should have been slain long ago were ravaging the land, making Harry's job ten times harder than it ought to have been. Dumbledore's spirit deserved more than just a slap on the proverbial wrist as far as Harry was concerned.

The conversation with Dumbledore only strengthened his resolve to do what needed to be done. He'd already begun his preparations to eliminate Death Eaters one by one, a task that no longer caused him moral distress. They'd all sealed their fates when they returned to Voldemort's service. None of them deserved to live. And Harry was going to take each and every one of them out.

He planned to begin his crusade that very weekend. He had already selected his first target and would stake out their property before making his move. He was so laser-focused on his goal that he nearly forgot about his other commitment, which Daphne reminded him about in the library that Friday.

"When should we leave the castle tomorrow?" she whispered to him as they worked on homework together in a quiet alcove.

"Hmm?" said Harry. "Leave where?"

"The Shrieking Shack," Daphne said in an undertone. "We're going to meet Ron, right?"

"Oh...yeah, I forgot," Harry muttered. "Er...let's leave at half past eleven." Daphne brightened considerably at this...it was obvious she was looking forward to the rendezvous more than anything.

Harry did suppose a check-in with Ron would be worthwhile. With luck, the redhead might have been able to locate Neville and Hermione by now, or at the very least, the resistance. He also wondered whether Amelia would come...he'd requested her presence, but wasn't sure if she would show up. Tipping her off about Grindelwald's return was probably a wise move, so that at least someone within the Ministry was aware.

The following evening, Harry and Daphne left their dorm and headed for the alcove outside Snape's office. After checking that the coast was clear on his Map – both Snape and Grindelwald were in their respective quarters – Harry Apparated them from the alcove directly to the Shack, which was as deserted as ever.

"Wait here," said Harry. "I need to head into the village for a few minutes."

"Why?" asked Daphne. "What's in the village?"

"I'll tell you when I get back," he said. "Just sit tight."

And he Apparated away again, reappearing just to the north of Hogsmeade Village. The Hog's Head was still open – Harry could hear low voices wafting from inside the pub, as late-night regulars enjoyed their evening drinks. He would not be entering tonight. He circled around to the back of the pub, concealed beneath a Disillusionment Charm, and settled in to wait.

Harry checked his watch – 11:43 PM. He'd asked Amelia to meet him here at quarter to midnight, but had no idea if she would show up or not. While she wasn't being mind-invaded by Lockhart, she was still being watched closely by Voldemort's people, and might not have been able to get away. Besides, she was nearly seven months pregnant now, and she may have not wanted to travel across all of Britain in the dead of night. He wouldn't blame her one bit for failing to show up.

Just as he was preparing to give up and head back to the Shack, he heard a loud CRACK just around the corner. He instinctively whipped out his wand, fearing that someone had just Apparated here to ambush him. But when he peeked around the corner, he saw a familiar bright-purple, triple-decker bus coming to a halt just down the road. The Knight Bus.

Harry watched as a handful of passengers disembarked the bus, some headed for the pubs, some headed home. A couple of drunken stragglers also filtered out of the Hog's Head, too drunk to Apparate, and boarded the bus to return home themselves. Harry watched them all from afar, wondering if Amelia was among them.

The last person to disembark was shrouded in a dark traveling cloak, as inconspicuous as could be. Any random passer-by would not have thought twice about this cloaked stranger heading towards the Hog's Head for a drink. But Harry noticed the way the figure subtly shifted their weight as they walked, as if supporting a large belly beneath the heavy cloak. The figure was pregnant. And Harry immediately knew who it was.

Amelia approached the Hog's Head, checking over her shoulder once before rounding the corner towards the back. As soon as she did so, Harry hit her with a Silencing Charm and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's Harry," he whispered. "Can you walk a bit further?" Amelia startled slightly from the invisible touch, but nodded in agreement.

Harry placed her under a Disillusionment Charm and guided her away from the village, towards the Shrieking Shack atop a nearby hillside. Once they were out of earshot of anyone roaming the village, he removed the Silencing Charm upon her. "Thanks for coming," he said. "Did you have to make any excuses to get away?"

"Not at all," Amelia whispered. "I slipped a Sleeping Draught into Sirius' evening tea. He'll be out cold until the morning."

"And nobody on the Knight Bus recognized you?"

"Nobody asks questions on the Knight Bus," Amelia chuckled. "I'm hardly the only person who wishes to be discreet at this late hour."

Harry's only experience with the bus was in his original third year, when Stan Shunpike had pestered him the entire ride. Perhaps that experience had been an outlier – or, even more likely, people were less likely to be nosy in times of war.

"Why have you brought me here?" Amelia asked as they approached the creaking shack. "We couldn't meet somewhere more public?"

"Not once you see who we're meeting," said Harry. He fired Privacy Charms at all the windows of the shack as they approached – it wouldn't do for any villagers to notice lights on in the shack and start snooping around. He opened the broken-down door for Amelia, beckoning her inside before shutting himself in behind her.

Daphne was not alone when they re-entered the living room. Fleur had arrived, wand trained on the door as Harry and Amelia approached, lowering it when she recognized them. "Oh...Madam Black," she muttered, bowing politely. "I did not realize you would be joining us zis evening."

"Madame Delacour," Amelia greeted her in return, looking between her and Harry. "I did not realize you two remained in contact."

"We're trying to keep that quiet for now," said Harry. "So Fleur doesn't attract any unwanted attention for her association with the Potters."

"Understood," Amelia nodded, before turning to Daphne. "Lady Potter. What brings you here tonight?"

"We'll explain in a moment," said Harry. "We're waiting on one more." He checked his watch again – 12:02 AM. Ron ought to be here by now. Had he gotten the date or time wrong? Had he been unable to make time for them tonight? Or, worse yet, had he been compromised by Voldemort's people, and forced to give up information? Were there Death Eaters surrounding the Shack as they spoke, preparing an ambush...?

But a moment later, there was a pop, heralding an arrival via Apparation. Not one but two people materialized out of thin air; Harry and Fleur immediately drew their wands and pointed them at the new arrivals, but quickly lowered them. "Cedric?!" Harry gasped.

"Hey, Harry," Cedric grinned, helping Ron back to his feet after stumbling from their arrival. "Never thought I'd see the day we'd be working together again."

"Hoped you wouldn't mind if I brought a guest to this little rendezvous," Ron smirked. "Found him a couple of days ago—" He was interrupted by Daphne, who threw herself at him, peppering his face with kisses as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Mister Weasley!" Amelia gasped, looking shocked at the two new arrivals. "Mister Diggory! I can't...I don't believe…"

Cedric and Ron eyed Amelia warily. Harry realized they must be nervous seeing the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement here, given that they were two of the most wanted people in all of Britain. "Don't worry, she's with us," Harry said quickly to placate them.

"Evening, Madam Bones," Cedric greeted her politely. "Er, sorry...is it Madam Black now? Hard to keep track with all of these recent marriages."

"Just Amelia is fine," Amelia said breathlessly. "But, my word...what are you two doing here? It's incredibly risky for you to be seen in public right now—"

"Hence why we're not in public," said Harry. "Ron and I met up a couple weeks ago and agreed to meet regularly to exchange information. I thought you might like to be present."

Amelia looked highly concerned as she looked around the odd collection of individuals around her. Whatever she had been expecting when she arrived to meet Harry tonight, it wasn't this.

"I don't...I can't even…" Amelia sputtered, swaying slightly on her feet; both Harry and Fleur rushed to assist her, lowering her down into a nearby armchair. "Are you boys alright? Are you safe? Your parents are worried sick about you!"

"Can't complain," Ron shrugged. "We're making a difference out there, so it's worth it."

"How did you two find each other?" Harry asked, looking from Ron to Cedric. "And so quickly?"

"Easy," Ron shrugged. "Fred and George."

"I don't follow."

"Hermione had a theory, see," said Ron. "The resistance movement would need a pretty sophisticated network of safe houses and resources to function properly. The twins have been expanding their business like crazy in the past few years, thanks to their Ministry contract for Shield clothing. They would be a perfect cover for the operation. I paid them a visit, and sure enough, once I managed to convince them I wasn't compromised, they introduced me to Cedric."

"We've been using their old warehouses as safe havens for Muggle-borns and their families," Cedric confirmed. "The twins helped Dora and I get set up after the Battle of London. My father fed us information from inside the Ministry about Muggle-borns due to be arrested, and Dora and I brought them into our network to protect them."

"How did the twins not get caught?" asked Harry. "After Amos got arrested, I mean?"

"I never told him about the twins," Cedric shrugged. "My father warned me not to give him too much information, in case he was compromised. We haven't been able to find new targets since his arrest, nor have we been able to transport anyone we currently have, since he was the one in contact with the resistance members on the continent."

Remus and Alessia, Harry deduced. "Can't you just make a bunch of Portkeys and send them to France or wherever?" he asked. "The Ministry can't detect them if they aren't activated near a magical dwelling." Amelia gave Harry an odd look at this remark, as though wondering how he knew this.

"The Portkeys aren't the problem," Cedric muttered. "If we send them to random spots on the continent, they might get captured by the Ministries of that country. They have been cooperating with Britain and deporting runaways back to where they came from."

"That's 'orrible!" Fleur gasped. "'Ow can they support such acts of evil?"

"They probably figure it's easier to go along with it and hope You-Know-Who stays confined to Britain," Cedric shrugged. "If they refuse to cooperate, it could put their country in jeopardy."

"He's right," Amelia sighed. "Death Eaters have already begun harassing foreign officials and intimidating them into silence. The Canadian ambassador to the ICW tried to initiate a protest vote against Britain, and she mysteriously died in her sleep...at age forty-two."

"Maybe you could help get them get the information they need to start transporting people again?" Harry offered. "Since Amos isn't available to do it anymore."

Amelia looked hesitant at this suggestion. "Madam Umbridge has increased security on her office since his arrest," she muttered. "I suppose I could pull rank to get that information directly from the archives, but it would be risky."

"It would be a tremendous help," Cedric said meekly. "If you get the opportunity."

Amelia still looked unsure. But then Fleur said softly, "Many people will suffer if you do not." That seemed to make up Amelia's mind.

"Right," she said. "Of course I will help." Cedric and Ron beamed at this news. Harry knew Amelia was a stickler for the rules, much like Hermione was...defiance of orders did not come naturally to her. But such was the nature of civil warfare: one must learn to disobey lawful orders to prevent greater injustices from occurring.

"There's something else you all need to know about," Harry said gravely. "Gellert Grindelwald. He's not dead. He's here, at Hogwarts, teaching Divination."

Amelia, Daphne, Ron, and Cedric all gaped at him. "Come off it," Cedric scoffed. "You're joking, right, Harry?"

"'Fraid not," Harry grimaced. "He's biding his time, regaining his strength until he can rise to power again."

A chilling silence met this statement. Then Amelia asked, "Who else knows about this?"

"No one outside this room," said Harry. "Except Voldemort and Snape. They think he's harmless, but I know better."

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed. "My granddad used to talk about Grindelwald all the time...he said those times were just as bad as when You-Know-Who rose to power."

"What are we going to do?" Cedric asked worriedly. "Should we sound the alarm?"

"Not yet," said Harry. "No need to cause a panic just yet. I just wanted you all to know, in case something happens to me."

"What would happen to you?" asked Amelia.

"I have something that Grindelwald wants," said Harry vaguely. "At some point he's going to try and take it from me. He's not strong enough to try it just yet, but he will be soon enough."

"Aren't you worried he's in the castle with you?" asked Ron. "What if he, y'know, comes after you in your sleep?"

"I have measures in place for that," said Harry. "As I'm sure he does against me doing the same. Besides, I know a few things he does not."

"Like what?" asked Cedric.

"Gellert underestimates Voldemort," said Harry. "He thinks him to be a simple-minded brute that he can manipulate and control. But Voldemort is smarter than that. He is not fooled by Grindelwald's act of weakness – he distrusts him, and would never allow another Dark Lord to exist that threatens his supremacy."

"Then why did 'e let Grindelwald live?" Fleur frowned.

"Because he's dangling a carrot in front of Voldemort's eyes," said Harry. "He claims to have prophetic knowledge about Longbottom, whom Voldemort fears. But once he realizes it's a farce, he'll strike Grindelwald down."

"How can you be sure?" asked Amelia.

"Because he gave Grindelwald this," said Harry, rolling up his sleeve to reveal his own Dark Mark. "Grindelwald doesn't realize the control he's relinquished to Voldemort in allowing himself to be branded. The second he tries to make a move against his master, he'll be forced into submission."

"What should we do in the meantime, then?" asked Ron.

"Nothing," said Harry. "Just be aware, in case the worst should happen. Our plans are unchanged – this is just one more obstacle we'll need to avoid."

"Bloody hell," Cedric groaned. "It's like we can't catch a break. We haven't been able to move our people in weeks...the twins' warehouses are still being inspected at 'random' by You-Know-Who's people every other day. All we can do is lay low and stay out of harm's way."

"You should probably keep it that way for now," said Harry. "Given what's coming next."

"Why?" Cedric frowned. "What's coming next?"

Harry took a deep breath before answering. He glanced around the room at all the expectant faces, then said, "Because a lot of Death Eaters are going to mysteriously die soon."

It took a moment for everyone to realize what this meant. Amelia was the first to react, with a loud gasp. "You cannot mean what I think you mean," she stammered.

"I do," said Harry grimly. "I've already gotten my hands dirty in this war with Bellatrix Lestrange. What's a few more evil lives taken?"

"Mate...you're talking about murder," Cedric breathed. "That's not right."

"Yeah, shouldn't we be using less...permanent methods?" Ron asked, scratching his neck nervously. "Doesn't that make us just as bad as they are?"

"No, it doesn't," Harry said flatly. "They are capturing and murdering people by the hundreds. You yourself saw what happened at the cliffside, Ced. And they won't just stop at Britain. Their movement will spread to the continent and beyond, like a weed, until the whole world is under their boot heel. And you don't just push weeds aside and hope they stop growing...you attack them, down to the root, until there's nothing left."

"But...what about Azkaban…?" Cedric asked weakly.

"What about it?" Harry shrugged. "What good did it do us in the last war? How many of the people the Ministry locked up are free now, sowing chaos like nothing ever happened? I won't let it happen again. They're all going to die."

"I don't like the way you're talking, Harry," Amelia muttered. "We're a civilized society. Killing isn't the answer."

"That's the same logic Dumbledore used fifty years ago, when he spared Grindelwald's life," said Harry. "And now we're left to deal with the consequences of that decision. He's back, and he's regaining strength, just like Voldemort and all his followers that were locked up in the last war. I will not make the same mistake."

"I dunno, Harry," Cedric grimaced. "I don't feel comfortable helping you with this."

"I'm not asking for anyone's help, or permission," Harry continued. "Their blood will be on my hands, and mine alone. Whatever happens to me after this war will happen. I'm just letting you all know so you don't get caught in the crossfire."

A grim silence followed these words. Amelia looked pained by Harry's words; Daphne looked shocked; Cedric and Ron also looked troubled, while Fleur merely remained silent, watching Harry thoughtfully. Finally, Amelia asked, "What are you planning to do?"

"I know where most of the Death Eaters live," said Harry. "I'll sneak in and kill them in their sleep. They'll probably think it's the resistance that's doing it, so I wouldn't want you lot to be exposed when it starts to happen."

"But what if you get caught?" Amelia asked fearfully. "These are skilled dark wizards we're talking about!"

"I'm stronger than them," Harry shrugged. "As long as Voldemort himself doesn't show up, they don't stand a chance."

"A bit sure of yourself, aren't you, mate?" Ron grumbled under his breath.

"Actually, Harry's right," Cedric sighed. "Dora watched him fight in an underground dueling tournament in Knockturn last year. The best mercenaries in the world compete in those, and Harry wiped the floor with them."

"Let me get this straight," Amelia muttered, massaging her brow. "You invited the head of the DMLE here to admit to partaking in illegal fighting rings, and that you're planning to assassinate dozens of high-ranking Ministry officials in the near future?"

"That about sums it up, yeah," Harry chuckled. "Let's be honest, Amelia: you already have enough evidence to lock me up for life for my crimes. So what's a few more?"

"That does not mean I should stand by and encourage you to commit more crimes!" said Amelia indignantly. "If your father was here—"

"He's not," Harry pointed out. "And I don't answer to him anymore. I'm of-age, and I can make my own decisions."

Amelia still looked uncertain about this turn of events; so too did Cedric, who was eyeing Harry nervously. Ron, however, looked pensive. "I'm in," he eventually blurted out. "I want to help take out those bastards."

"It will be more difficult with two people than just one," said Harry. "Besides, you still need to find Neville and Hermione. That's more important than anything else right now." Ron looked miffed by the dismissal, but he reluctantly nodded his agreement.

Harry turned next to Fleur. She hadn't said much over the past few minutes, mulling everything over in silence. Hers was the opinion he wanted the most. She looked troubled, clearly not in love with the idea of murder either. But when she looked up to meet Harry's eye, she had a look of fierce resolve, and he knew he had her support.

"What do we need to do next?" she asked.

"Carry on as usual," said Harry. "Cedric, start transporting Muggle-borns again with Amelia's help. Ron, keep looking for Neville and Hermione. Don't do anything that would draw suspicion, in case Voldemort comes calling in retaliation for his people dying."

"How long do we have to remain in hiding?" Ron groaned. "I'm itching for action, mate. I want to make a fight of it!"

"That day will come," Harry promised. "For now, we just have to do what we can."

Ron nodded in begrudging acceptance. Harry turned next to Amelia. "Have you had a chance to speak with Andromeda about what we discussed?" he asked her.

"Not yet," said Amelia. "There are still a lot of eyes on her and your father at the moment. Once things have settled down a bit, I'll talk to her."

"Good," Harry nodded. "In that case, that should be all for tonight. Good luck, everyone."

The group nodded in grim acceptance. They all had their roles to play – now it was simply a matter of executing them.

"When will we be able to meet again?" Daphne asked worriedly. She looked alarmed at her time with Ron being cut short again, holding onto his hand anxiously.

"It's probably not wise for us to set a regular meeting time, in case one of us is compromised," said Harry. "So we'll use these." He rummaged through his pockets and withdrew a handful of fake Galleons, handing one to each other member of the group.

"What are we meant to do with these?" asked Cedric.

"They are all linked together," said Harry. "I'll charm mine to change the serial numbers to the date and time of our next meeting. That will cause the numbers to change on your end as well, and you'll know when to meet here next."

"Brilliant," Ron remarked, examining his coin closely.

"This is rather impressive advanced magic," Amelia appraised him. "Where did you get the idea from?"

"A brilliant witch I used to know," Harry smiled sadly. He missed the Hermione he once knew in his prior timeline, and wished she could see him now. He knew he would not be here today without all she had done for him back then.

The group disbanded for the night. Cedric and Ron Apparated away; Fleur escorted Amelia back to Hogsmeade to catch the Knight Bus back home; Harry brought Daphne back to the castle, where they returned safely to their dorm without being noticed. Daphne retired to bed at once; Harry knew she was distraught at being separated from Ron again so soon, even if she was good at hiding it.

Harry slipped into his own bed, checking the Marauder's Map once more as he did so. Grindelwald's dot still sat benignly in the man's quarters, unmoving, unassuming. But Harry would not make the mistake of underestimating him. He may be weak now, but he was the second most dangerous man in Britain – if not the first, given the psychological power he wielded over Harry.

You're on borrowed time, Gellert, Harry thought murderously. I don't care what Dumbledore or anyone else thinks. I will not allow a single Dark Lord or their sycophants to survive this war.