Vinda remained silent.
Yes, her master didn't care, but she did.
If she could trace the culprits behind the recent threats, she'd storm their gates and end them all.
Vinda's figure dissolved into the swirling Apparition vortex.
She vanished on the spot.
Grindelwald watched the fading swirl and shook his head. "Still so impatient, aren't you? But you've been silent too long."
He turned toward the iron bars, gazing at the bright moon hanging high in the night sky. "A brand new path? Fascinating. I can't wait to meet that boy. I wonder if the legends hold true. Dumbledore, you still can't see it all."
A long sigh echoed through the tower.
Moments later, silence returned.
Outside, several Aurors watched owls come and go, making no move to interfere.
They'd learned from past attempts; those who'd tried now rested under overgrown graves.
Did anyone truly believe the title "Black Rose of France" referred only to Vinda's striking beauty?
News of Erwin's arrival in Germany drew swift attention—from the German Ministry of Magic, the Acolytes, and one key family.
The Solents!
In Solent Castle, Abran Solent lounged on the sofa, idly stroking the carved dragon head beside him. His eyes fixed on the roaring fireplace, deep in thought.
A subordinate entered. "Master."
Abran spoke without turning. "Report."
"The Cavendish boy has arrived in Germany. He's in Berlin now."
A sharp glint flashed in Abran's eyes. He rose abruptly. "He's come here? Intriguing."
The subordinate pressed, "Shall we send men to capture and hold him?"
Abran shook his head. "No. His wings are too strong now—his power's grown beyond what it was. I'll handle this myself."
The subordinate hesitated. "But leaving the castle for Berlin... it's risky. That Black Rose from the Acolytes suspects you. She might strike."
Abran snorted. "Doubting me?"
The subordinate dropped to his knees. "No, Master—I'm just concerned for your safety."
"No need," Abran said coldly. "Vinda Rosier can't touch me. Without Grindelwald's legend propping things up, Berlin would already be ours. And even if he emerges from that tower, it changes nothing."
The subordinate paled, grasping the implication. His master could match Grindelwald?
"Send word," Abran continued. "Tomorrow, gather the gifts. We'll head to Berlin together. I want to meet this Cavendish heir properly. Our first real encounter—I'm eager."
A red gleam lit Abran's eyes, twisting his smile into something predatory.
The kneeling subordinate shivered.
...
The next morning, Erwin stirred in bed.
He stretched, then shoved aside the little black dog—Ebony—that had somehow curled up on his chest.
In the bathroom, he retrieved his toiletries from his enchanted ring and freshened up.
Ebony, rubbing sleep from his eyes, followed. Transforming into a golden monkey, he grabbed his own set of supplies and mimicked Erwin's routine.
After a quick hotel breakfast, Erwin headed to the entrance. His car waited, the driver standing at attention.
Seeing Erwin approach, the driver bowed. "Good morning, Earl Cavendish."
Erwin nodded. "Morning. Let's head out."
The driver opened the door. Erwin slid in.
"The drive's a fair stretch, my lord," the driver said. "Rest if you'd like."
Erwin acknowledged him with a nod.
The driver raised the partition and started the engine.
The car rumbled along bumpy roads for two hours before halting.
The driver emerged and opened the door. "We've arrived, Earl Cavendish."
Erwin stepped out, eyes lifting to the imposing Nurmengard Tower.
Excitement stirred within him—this was the secluded home of their revered King Grindelwald.
Nurmengard wasn't hidden from Muggles; they saw it as a private castle, untouched by Muggle-Repelling Charms.
The driver eyed the structure curiously, figuring the young earl must know its owner. He waited quietly by the fence.
Soon, a figure approached: Thorfinn Rowle, whom Erwin had met the day before.
Rowle glanced at the Muggle driver.
Erwin turned to him. "You can head back. I'll summon you if needed."
The driver nodded without question and drove off—a true professional, knowing when silence served best.
Rowle spoke gruffly. "You can enter the grounds, but not the tower. Even we can't breach it. You know who's inside."
Erwin smiled. "I just need the formal entry. As for the tower? I won't need your assistance. Someone will welcome me."
Rowle frowned but said nothing, leading the way.
The perimeter Aurors were gone—mere window dressing anyway. Their real job? Delivering meals to Emperor Grindelwald when Vinda was occupied. Fetching takeaway, essentially.
Guarding him? Laughable. Only Dumbledore could manage that. Otherwise, Grindelwald could stroll out for dinner unnoticed.
But King Gellert's pride kept him inside.
They reached the tower base. As Erwin halted, the heavy doors creaked open.
Vinda stepped out, her face alight with a warm smile. "Little Erwin, you've finally arrived! I've waited so long."
Rowle gaped. They truly knew each other.
...
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