Grindelwald's fortress in Austria was frigid stone and whispered ambition. Every day, I trained until magic crackled beneath my skin like hunger.
For the first time in two lifetimes… I had a mentor worthy of me.
Grindelwald was not the raging tyrant history painted him as. He was quiet. Sharp. A man whose very presence bent the world to his will. When he watched me work, the air itself seemed to tense in anticipation.
He taught me elegance.
"Violence is crude. Precision is power."
My borrowed wand flicked. A silent spell exploded across the training chamber — a jagged curse that would have severed a man in half. I didn't even feel breathless.
Nine spells in three seconds. Each one lethal.
I smirked. Even Tom Riddle had never done this.
But Grindelwald only hummed, unimpressed.
"Too slow," he said. "Magic should be instinct. Thought should be faster than fear."
Thought should be faster than fear.
Fear… The one thing I still hadn't conquered. The imprint of Tom's terror — death — lingered like a phantom hand around my throat. And Grindelwald could see it.
His pale eyes narrowed. "You dread death so deeply that you cling to life like a trapped animal. That will chain you more efficiently than any Auror."
I froze. He had struck the exact nerve.
I hated that he was right.
But this life — this world — would not take me again.
The Alliance members treated me with reverence. The Death Eaters still whispered my name with terror. I was becoming a legend twice over. And yet… I was trapped inside the body of a toddler with a borrowed wand.
Unacceptable.
No — temporary.
Tonight, as Grindelwald dismissed me, he rested a hand on my small shoulder.
"You will surpass us all," he murmured. "Even Dumbledore. Even me."
A thrill curled inside me — ambition reborn.
I will lead the Alliance. I will lead the Death Eaters.
And then, when the world bows…
I will never fear death again.