12 12: There's TWO of them?!

[3rd Pov]

McGonagall widened her eyes seeing the name in the scroll

"THERE'S TWO OF THEM?!" she yelled, hushing the murmurs of the students, and silence fell once again in the Great Hall.

She looked again to the long table, just to see the Headmaster caressing his snow-white beard, a small smile plastered on his lips.

The Vice-Headmistress carefully examined the scroll in her hands once more, her lips trembling. She read it over and over again, just to make sure her aging mind wasn't playing tricks on her paranoid persona.

Minerva McGonagall was a professor during the time Gellert Grindelwald almost ruled over all of Magic Europe. Even after almost five decades, she remembered clearly the atrocities Grindelwald committed. To her, the now-imprisoned Dark Lord was much more terrifying than Voldemort. While the last was feared for his power and ruthlessness, the former was not only powerful but had unending charm and charisma. While Voldemort gathered followers through his bigoted ideology and fear, Gellert manipulated those around him to do his deeds, and, with few words, he could gather loyal servants that would die for him.

'Albus told me of his sister's relationship with Grindelwald, but I never expected... this'

"*cough**cough*" she cleared her throat, "G-Grindelwald, Lysandra"

Lysandra, with her raven locks flowing as she walked, confidently approached the sorting hat, wearing at once.

"Ohhh... another natural in the mind arts," murmured the hat inside the Grindelwald girl's mind, "A rare case indeed. You despise dark magic, but nevertheless, you help your twin in whatever endeavor he has... Truly gifted in the healing arts, unending courage, and thirst to redeem your family's name... So different from your brother yet so similar..."

The hat's thoughts continued for another five minutes, surprising not only the students but the professors.

"A hat stall," they whispered to each other.

"Tell me, girl," the hat spoke to Lysandra in his ragged voice, "Slytherin... or Gryffindor?"

"I can choose?" asked Lysandra, surprised. She clearly heard it was up to the centuries-old hat to choose your house, based on one's traits.

"Normally... no, but for little conflicted ones like you, I do make an exception,"

Lysandra searched for her brother on his house's table, just to lock gazes with him. With a small, but sad smile, her brother nodded to her, accepting whatever decision she made.

Lysandra quickly understood that her brother had been using legilimency to hear her conversation with the hat. Normally, she would scold him for not respecting her privacy, even if she knew that, more often than not, natural legilimens couldn't stop themselves from constantly reading others' thoughts, especially one at the level of her brother.

But this time, she was glad he did. Lysandra feared that if she made the wrong choice, Alaric would resent her for that. But seeing him so supportive, her eyes couldn't help but turn glassy with tears.

"It seems you've made your choice," said that hat, who had been observing the twins' interaction, "GRYFFINDOR,"

She stood up, and walked to the Lions' table, before sitting near Hermione, she being the only person who didn't flinch when Lysandra sat.

After the Grindelwald twins were sorted, Professor McGonagall quickly sorted the rest of the students.

The Potter children caused an uproar, distracting the young wizards of the former Dark Lord's descendants. Both were sorted into Gryffindor, turning the table's somber mood into an almost festive one.

"We got the Potters! We got the Potters!" shouted Fred and Geroge in syntony.

After Ron, the last student to be sorted was also put into Gryffindor, Dumbledore got up, silencing the Great Hall.

With a grandfatherly smile, he spoke, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are, Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

After the Headmaster said his words, a huge feast appeared before the students, including foods like roast beef and roast chicken, boiled and roasted potatoes, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, and gravy, which the students started eating eagerly.

__________

[Hope's Pov]

"That explains why they didn't tell us their name..." whispered Ron. No shit Sherlock!

I knew they had their reasons for never telling us, but this...

I looked at Lysandra, who was quietly eating her portion. All the students near her, except Hermione, were slightly apart from her. I noticed the side glances they shot her, their restlessness for being sitting beside her. If I hadn't spent the time I did with her during the summer, I was sure I would be like them.

She was a good friend, and the things we did during the summer proved that. She was one of the few girlfriends I had, at least on the magical side of the world.

Mom made me and Harry attend muggle school before coming to Hogwarts. While we did interact with the kids our age, we knew, sooner or later, the bonds we formed with them would have to be cut. We just couldn't risk them finding out about the wizarding world.

Lys's brother, on the other hand, was mysterious. Apart from the looks of disgust he would give me when I was wearing muggle clothes, he didn't seem to mind my presence around his sister, so much so that I often caught him smiling whenever I and Lys were having fun.

Despite that, he would always keep his distance, as if he didn't trust me. More often than not I would ask Lys what his deal was, but every time she would dodge the question or just tell me that it was how he was.

Now I understood why.

While I was lost in my thoughts, I noticed that Harry and Ron were still bickering about the big bad wolf Grindelwald. Ron was always a dunderhead, and it seemed that it was starting to rub off on my brother.

Hermione was still clueless. That was to be expected. While she said she read a lot of magic-oriented books, I doubt that any of them had to do with history. Especially about the Dark Lord that almost reigned supreme over Magical Europe.

She leaned toward Lysandra, "So... why are they exactly afraid of you?" she cluelessly asked. I guess the books she read didn't teach her about common sense.

Lys looked at her, her left eyebrow raised, before sighing. "I guess you've read about Voldemort?" she asked.

Hermione paled, covering Lys's mouth with her hand. "SHHH, you can't say his name out loud!", making Lysandra roll her eyes.

"Basically," she said, taking Hermione's hand off her mouth, "My Grandfather was the Dark Lord before him. I would say his objective wasn't as bad as your boggart, mostly because he didn't discriminate against muggle-borns. He did, however, see muggles in a... lesser light. That made him disregard their lives on his conquest. He wasn't a savage like the British-made Dark Lord, but he did commit his atrocities,"

I'm pretty sure Hermione malfunctioned at that moment. Unlike me, she met Lysandra some hours ago, so she didn't have an opinion of her yet formed.

But surprise, surprise, she just gave Lys a look filled with pity, "It must have been hard... I'm sorry,"

"I don't need your pity," Lysandra snorted, "But... it isn't that bad having someone care," she murmured, with a smile.

Turns out the bush-girl had some actual sense in her.

I stood up from my seat, before walking and sitting beside my friend, "I guess she won't be a bad friend, don't you think, Lys?" I added.

Lysandra nodded, before looking at Hermione, who in turn had a wide happy grin on her face.

Maybe Hogwarts is going to be better than I expected.

__________

[Alaric's Pov]

Hogwarts was indeed spectacular. The enchantments that seemed to give the castle its magic were endless, and the constant magic particles gathered inside of it created some sort of semi-sentience in the castle.

When we were following that half-giant, the multitude of prismatic colors flowing through the castle walls was enchanting. With my gift, I was able to grasp just how magical this place was.

As for my name revelation, I could safely say that it was just what I expected. While I knew it was unnerving to have to attend the same school with a Dark Lord's grandchildren, attending it with the magic messiah of Europe and his sister easily topped it.

I would never say it to their faces, but for once, I was grateful for the Potter twins. A shame they would never know.

I could see some people still disturbed by Lysandra's presence at her table, but she appeared to be doing fine.

As for me, well, it was weird. While I knew most of Magical Britain's pureblood families were sorted into Slytherin, I can't say I was expecting their reaction. Originating from old wizarding families, almost all of my housemates knew who Grandfather was. Being educated from a young age that wizards are the superior race, if Voldemort was still alive, at least one-third of the people sitting at this table would join him.

Why? Bigotry. Unlike the properly educated students whose parents took some effort to raise them, these mutts instantly flocked to me after knowing I was from a powerful pureblood family. My grandfather being who he is just made me more likable to them. Bunch of inbreds.

As I was enjoying my meal, I absentmindedly gazed at the professor's table again. I just couldn't take my eyes off it. I could more or less understand a wizard's magical prowess, mostly by observing the particles that floated around them. The more the amount of particles, and the calmer they were, the more powerful the wizard. You could say that the number of magical lights around them was their potential and the more serene they appeared to be, the more control the wizards had.

That was, at least, what I thought until I saw Albus Dumbledore. I knew he was powerful. The second coming of Merlin, they call him. The only one who my grandfather considered an equal, and the one Voldemort was afraid of facing. Yet, in Dumbledore, I saw nothing. No lights, no particles, nothing. And that could only mean two things.

He was a squib, with no magic, or, he had such control over his magic that he could easily disguise it. Guess which one is the answer.

Grandfather was always shackled with chains that stopped him from using any type of magic, so I assumed that he could do this as well. I had to ask him the next time I visit

When I looked at the Headmaster, he turned his eyes to me. We locked gazes for an instant before he smiled and nodded at me.

He really is on another level.

Putting the subject at the back of my mind, I continued feasting on the variety of foods presented. Of course, I didn't forget to do it with class, or else my mother would hex me.

At the end of the feast, Dumbledore said something about the third-floor corridor being forbidden. I guess I would visit it in one of my future explorations. If it's forbidden then there's something interesting there.

Leading us out of the Great Hall, I said goodbye to my sister, before a fifth-year prefect lead us to our common room.

Walking through the dungeons, we reached a simple stone-brick wall. "Pureblood," said the prefect.

As soon as he spoke those words, a double door suddenly appeared, carved into the said stone wall. Behind the door was a set of stone steps that descended deep into the dungeons.

He hurried us in, saying that we had to wait for our head of the house, before leaving.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs. The dungeon extended partway under the lake, giving the light in the room a green tinge.

Soon after, we all head to the dungeon doors opening again, and from the stairs came a thin man with sallow skin, a large, hooked nose, and yellow, uneven teeth. Dressed in flowing black robes, he had shoulder-length, greasy black hair.

The man stopped before us, before scrutinizing us.

"My name, for your bunch, is Professor Snape, and I'm your Head of the House," he finally spoke, "I will not accept any kind or form of disrespect. I expect excellence from each and every one of you, and I will not have you smear our house's reputation. Your schedules will be presented to you tomorrow morning. Now, to bed," he said, sternly.

However, before I could walk away, the Professor spoke again, in his ever-stern voice.

"Mr.Grindelwald, a word,"

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A/N: Do you guys enjoy more third-person pov or first-person?

Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter!