Nurmengard Fortress stood alone in the Austrian Alps, defying the wind and the weather. Its walls, carved from black stone and ancient runes, were a monument to the will of one man.
In the highest cell was Gellert Grindelwald.
He wore no chains; they were not needed. His cell was so vast and silent that at times it seemed like a temple, a place where every echo was a prayer addressed to his name.
The man sat with his back straight and his eyes fixed on the narrow window through which the gray light of dawn filtered. Snow fell slowly, as if the whole world were frozen in time.
His soft laughter broke the silence.
"My children..." he whispered, his voice as much a song as a sentence. "Even after all this time, they still hear and follow my words."
He needed no letters or messengers. His legacy was not on paper, but in ideas. His ideas.
He had heard the rumors. His Acolytes moving around the world. Vinda Rosier, his most loyal wolf, hunting again in foreign lands. The echo of his power was reawakening.
Grindelwald rose slowly. He walked to the stone wall, resting a hand on the runes that sealed his magic. His fingers slid over them with familiarity, like someone caressing the skin of an old lover.
"My followers don't need me to guide them," he murmured, his eyes shining brightly. "No... they know. They always knew."
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In that moment, he was not a prisoner, but a prophet.
"The world is moving again. The balance is shifting. I can feel it... everything is silently aligning."
The smile that spread across his lips was mesmerizing, the same one that had seduced crowds decades ago.
"Let them prepare..." he whispered, his voice firm. "When the fire is lit again, everyone will burn. And after that fire... I will be the only victor."
The silence was almost absolute, interrupted only by the whisper of the wind seeping through the window. Grindelwald stood with his hands behind his back, his eyes fixed on the horizon.
How many years had passed since he rose to power in Europe? How many lives had followed him, believing in a new future, a different, better one? Too many, and none had followed him out of obligation.
"The power of ideas..." he murmured, with a bitter smile. "That is something they can never extinguish."
He closed his eyes, letting the images come back to him, the brilliance of Albus, the indomitable passion of Marianne, the fury of the crowds responding to his voice. His mistakes, the battles... and then his fall. Prison is only a punishment, a reminder. A reminder that the world was not yet ready to understand him.
He slumped down on the stone bench that served as his bed and rested his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands in front of his face.
"Why do I continue?" he thought.
He had asked himself that question countless times in that place. The answer was clear, as sharp as the first time he had uttered it, because he knew he was right.
Wizards were superior. He knew it by nature.
"Our power is no accident," he whispered. "Magic is not a whim... it is proof. Proof that we are better, that we are the guardians of this world."
Muggles... oh, muggles. He had observed them with some contempt. They were always at war, they only caused destruction, they were so blind, they were creatures... mere creatures, incapable of understanding the truth of this world.
"They only know how to destroy. We can create. Transform. Improve."
His eyes hardened, shining with the conviction that always drove him.
"So why hide? Why live in the shadows of those who neither understand nor comprehend?"
That had always been his crusade. Not out of hatred, but out of destiny. He would bring about a new era where wizards would guide the world, not as tyrants, but as architects of the future, doing what was best for the world.
His smile slowly returned.
"That's why I carry on. Because even though I'm here, behind these walls, my truth still lives on in those who believe. As long as there is someone who believes in my ideas, my cause will not be dead... it will always survive."
The snow continued to fall beyond the mountains. In his cell, Grindelwald closed his eyes and took a deep breath, with the calmness of a man who never doubted himself.
He had remained still, immersed in the only luxury he had left: his memories.
In his mind, he saw them again, shining like stars in the sky.
Albus.
He was always restless, debating everything, with a mind that raced faster than his own tongue. There was a spark in him that was found in no one else; he could accomplish anything if he set his mind to it. Gellert had always admired him, his way of seeing the world as if nothing were impossible... it was fascinating. In him, he found a reflection of himself.
Marianne.
She was different. More discreet in appearance, but with a fierce heart and intelligence, capable of overcoming anything. She never stopped observing, asking questions, trying to understand. She was always close to Albus, almost afraid that he would leave if she stopped looking at him.
Grindelwald smiled sadly.
"Marianne... pursuing Albus's interests, always looking after him... and looking after me too." His voice grew quieter, as if he were talking to ghosts. "We were friends, great friends."
He remembered those days when the three of them were together, drawing maps, laughing as they discussed what the future should be like. The excitement in their voices, their youth made them feel invincible...
His expression hardened.
He thought of the afternoon when everything fell apart. They had an argument... he no longer knew why it happened. A spell out of place, and the fire consuming more than it should have. Ariana. The name still weighed heavily on all three of them.
Since then, their paths had diverged. Albus felt only guilt; Marianne found herself submerged in bitter silence; and he... he continued his struggle.
"They turned away because they feared their own strength. Not me. They never saw what I saw. They never accepted it. I saw beyond... I saw the destiny of our people. They continue to cling to doubts, to blame, to what has been lost."
He stood up, walking slowly around the cell, like an orator on stage.
"They weren't my enemies. They never will be. They were my friends... the greatest I ever had. But there was a difference between us. I didn't fear the truth."
The snow fell relentlessly beyond the window, indifferent to his words. But to Grindelwald, each flake was a witness.
"Albus and Marianne... they are still a part of me. And they know it. Soon they will have to look me in the eye again. And finally they will understand what I saw when we were just three young people dreaming of changing the world."
A low laugh escaped his throat. It was neither cruel nor mocking. It was a laugh that seemed to tell the whole world that friendship, loss, and faith in his vision had not died.
Grindelwald leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes. For a moment, in the solitude of his prison, he was neither a leader nor a prisoner. He was just a man remembering his old friends, convinced that destiny had not yet finished writing his story.
Aurelian carefully closed one of the thick volumes he had been reading. The Flamel library was vast, silent, always absorbing him more than he planned. That afternoon was no different.
Quietly, he made his way to the main hall. There he found Nicolas and Perenelle sitting in front of the fireplace.
"Aurelian," Perenelle called in a warm voice, "Come, sit with us for a moment."
The boy obeyed, settling into one of the armchairs next to them. The fire cast soft shadows on the walls.
Nicolas was the first to speak, his tone more serious than usual.
"We know you've been restless since Albus' visit. We can see it in your eyes."
Aurelian lowered his gaze for a moment. It wasn't easy to hide anything from them. Perenelle spoke gently.
"You shouldn't worry about what we talked about that day. The important thing now is that you grow up, get stronger... and enjoy your youth."
Aurelian took a deep breath and nodded. He understood that they were really trying to protect him. It was a comforting feeling.
"I know," he replied at last, in a low voice. "And I thank you."
With that matter settled, Perenelle smiled and changed the subject naturally, as any curious grandmother would.
"Now tell me, what is your life like at Hogwarts? I don't mean your studies, but what you experience there. Your friends, your teachers, and the mischief you've surely gotten into."
Aurelian raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question, although a slight smile appeared on his face.
"I don't think you want to hear about them, there's really nothing very interesting."
Nicolas leaned forward with a spark of interest in his eyes.
"That doesn't matter, we're all ears, we want to hear them all."
The atmosphere softened. Between the crackling of the fire and the Flamels' anticipation, Aurelian began to talk about his life in the castle, his classes, and the friendships he had found in the midst of it all.
The conversation was not about major threats or uncertain futures. They were simply a family sharing their experiences in the warmth of their home.
The fire crackled softly as Aurelian spoke, at first naturally. He told them about his days at Hogwarts, how Defense Against the Dark Arts classes with Professor Rowle in his first year had been very instructive, how demanding Snape was in Potions, how Professor McGonagall never missed an opportunity to demand discipline in every detail.
Nicolas nodded curiously, and Perenelle smiled, enjoying hearing about the young man's life.
"And then there are my friends," Aurelian continued, with a different gleam in his eyes. "Cedric Diggory is a great person, somewhat noble but very fair, then there are the Weasley twins, they're funny... great pranksters, they don't seem to know the meaning of the word 'seriousness'."
Nicolas burst out laughing.
"Ah, those are the best friends you can have, they're the ones who keep the laughter alive in the midst of everything."
Aurelian smiled, his tone gradually softening, becoming more intimate.
"And... then there are Hestia and Flora."
The Flamels watched him silently, attentively. The boy looked down for a moment, as if he were struggling to put his feelings into words.
"They support me in everything, they trust me and I trust them. It's not easy to explain." His voice became warmer. "They understand me in a way that no one else does. And I love them more than anyone else."
The silence lasted a few seconds. Aurelian took a deep breath and finally added.
"Oh, and last month we got engaged. When we turn eighteen... we're going to get married."
The reaction was immediate. Perenelle froze, her eyes wide, dropping the fabric she was holding in her hands. It was as if he had just announced that he was leaving home forever.
"Engaged!?" she exclaimed, incredulous. "But we're just enjoying having you here, and already there are two girls who want to take you away!
Aurelian couldn't help but laugh at her reaction, although his cheeks flushed.
"It's not that they want to take me away... I chose them."
Nicolas let out a laugh so loud that it made the windowpanes rattle.
"Oh, Perenelle, look at you! You look like a grandmother who has just discovered that her grandson is all grown up."
"It's not funny, Nicolas," she replied, crossing her arms, although an almost imperceptible blush colored her cheeks. "We've barely started taking care of him, and already they want to take him away from us."
The alchemist continued to laugh, unable to contain himself.
"Don't think of it that way, dear. Look at it another way, Aurelian is so exceptional that even fate is rushing to pair him up."
Perenelle shot him a disapproving look, but when she turned her gaze back to Aurelian, her expression softened. With a sigh of resignation, she leaned forward.
"All right... tell me about them." Her voice changed, filled with curiosity, like that of a grandmother eager to meet the girls who had stolen her grandson's heart.
"What are Hestia and Flora like? What do you love so much about them?"
Aurelian blinked, surprised by the question. Heat rose to his face, but slowly a sincere smile appeared on his lips.
"They're very intense... but also very sweet to me. They always support me and are there for me. To many, they seem strange, even disturbing. But I only see how beautiful they are, how much they love me, and how happy I am with them."
Perenelle listened attentively, nodding from time to time, filing away every detail. Finally, she smiled, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes.
"It seems you really love them, and if they make you happy... then I will accept them too."
Nicolas laughed again, patting Aurelian on the shoulder.
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