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Harry Potter: Grindelwald's Grandson

The story follows Alaric's, Grindelwald's Grandson, and his sister's time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during the events of the original Harry Potter books. Unlike his sister, Alaric is determined to embrace his family's history and redeem its name, proving that the Dark Arts are much more than a mere tool to harm people. ************************************ Slight AU. Not a reincarnated or transmigrated MC.

NyanTa · Book&Literature
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87 Chs

5: Going back and underground club

"If that's what you want to do, then it's not my right to argue..."

The twins, who had just returned from meeting their grandfather, went straight to their mother's office. Their mother, a Durmstrang alumni, had always praised the school. She used to sing compliments about the professors, saying that the use of the Cruciatus curse on misbehaving students was perfect, as it would teach them some of the horrors the world had, on top of correcting their behavior. Although, when Alaric used to ask what would she do if they, by some chance, were disciplined with the torture curse, Isadora would instantly go silent, leaking some murderous intent. Yeah, their mother wasn't right in the head, but, to them, she was a loving and caring mother, so they didn't complain.

Nevertheless, they weren't expecting such a calm reaction, when they mentioned they intended to go to Hogwarts, instead of Durmstrang. They did explain the request of their grandfather, something that probably helped in getting this mild reaction.

"BUT... If you both want to go to Hogwarts... then we'll have to move. End of discussion."

Another fun fact about their mother was that she, for the past three years or so, would constantly nag the twins to move back to Godric's Hollow. She asked if they didn't feel lonely, being in such a big castle all by themselves, because she apparently did. Alaric and Lysandra, on the other hand, knew Merlin damn well the numerous times she would have her girl friends over. These women wouldn't stop bothering them, to the point they started to hide using highly advanced concealment spells, hiding even their smell, as if they almost didn't exist, with the sole purpose of not getting their cheeks pinched until red.

The problem was that they knew exactly why she wanted to go back. And knowing why was precisely the reason they would refuse. Their mother only wanted to go back as she missed the times before her husband was put into a vegetative state. They were aware of the numerous times she cried herself to sleep, and they couldn't stand seeing their mother drowning in the memories of a distant past. And while Lysandra was giving her all to find a way to heal her father, she and her brother knew that the chances weren't in her favor, meaning that, if possible, they wanted their mother to let go of those memories.

The kids looked at each other as if they were talking telepathically. Both of them sighed before Alaric turned to their mother.

"Fine, but at least don't forget to invite those friends of yours. The cottage may not be nearly as big as this castle, but they do care for you, and they would hate to see their friend lost in past memories." he said, in a strict tone, as if he was the one talking to his child.

Isadora warmly looked at her kids, before getting up and embracing them "Thank you for worrying so much my children, but don't worry, mommy won't lose herself." Then with a smile, she left the room, seemingly wanting some time for herself.

"I was expecting some pinching hexes, but that went rather well" With a relieved expression, the two also left the room.

"What should we do now? It's already night..." wondered Lysandra. If one stopped to think, one would notice that the twins, apart from Alaric's night outings, would do almost everything together. Something that, without her noticing, created some sort of separation anxiety for Lysandra, as she would always be worried about the twisted situations her brother would put himself into.

"Well for one, I'll go downstairs so I can continue practicing apparition. I've also got to enchant a wardrobe or a suitcase so I can bring the library with me. Then, I'll probably continue writing my bo..."

"WAIT, wait. You're going to bring grandfather's library to the cottage?" interrupted the girl.

"Well, of course, can't leave so much knowledge in here where no one is going to use it right? What do you say I enchant a suitcase for you too? That way you can even have your little workshop in it." said the boy, with a silly smile.

"You really are fucking mental brother." Commented the girl with a smile of her own.

"Language, Miss" The twins then chuckled with each other, before making their way to the library in the dungeons.

_________________________________________

[Alaric's Pov]

As I slowly walked through the streets of Paris, the sound of the raindrops pattering against the pavement created a soothing background noise that could be heard everywhere. It was Merlin damn hard to convince Mother to let me go to the village down the mountains. I don't want to imagine if she knew I apparated to Paris. As I made my way through hordes and hordes of muggles, I could finally see my destiny. In Montmartre, nicknamed by the non-magicals as the artist's district, there was a magical bronze statue that would take me to my destination. As I slowly approached the statue, I could see yellow and silver lights dancing around, proving the magical qualities said statue had. As I touched it, I felt myself being stuffed into a tube, before reappearing in another place.

But this time, the view was entirely different. The Place Cachée. The French magical district. Three stories buildings, surrounded an open plaza, with what seemed to be a small Arc de Triomphe. From each side of the plaza, came wide paved roads, forming a crossed intersection. The buildings were filled with stores and said stores were loaded with excited students. The school term was about to start, so it was understandable. I then continued my journey, with a rather sketchy pub in mind, or, as the French like to say, a cabaret. The streets started to smell, and the fancy-looking district was no more.

Morgana, I fucking hate Paris.

(A/N: I don't hate in any way or form France or French people, this is just something Gellert Grindelwald says in the films, so I thought it would be funny.)

I had heard from some guards in Nurmengard that there was this bar, Le Dragon Rouge, which hosted a widely famous underground dueling club.

As I made my way through some not so cleaned alleyways, I finally reached the bar. Before entering, I self-transfigured into a middle-aged man, with brown hair and amber eyes. If I was to get famous as I intended, I didn't want any sketchy wizard or witch recognizing me, and also, they wouldn't let a 10-year-old kid enter the bar, as run down as it was.

As I opened the wooden doors, the smell of fire whisky assaulted my nostrils. The only sound coming from the bar was the occasional sips that some wizards took from their drinks. I swiftly made my way to the barman, who was, for some reason, cleaning cups without magic.

"Hmph, I've never seen you around here... what do you want mister?" asked the man in French.

"I want to fight. And put 10 galleons on my name." I replied, in perfect French.

The man looked at me, and then at the money on the counter. I read some of his thoughts and knew he was wondering if I was an Auror. After deciding I probably wasn't one, the man took his wand out. After doing what seemed to be a rune code in the wall behind him, a set of stairs appeared beyond. After thanking the bartender, I made my way downstairs. He still probably thinks I'm an Auror or Hit-wizard, but, with the magic that I plan to use, he'll quickly change his mind.

At the end of the stairs, I couldn't even think with all the noise. Sheers, chants, and screams echoed through the underground arena. It looked like a quidditch stadium, with numerous stands around what seemed to be a long rectangular platform, where two men were throwing spells at each other.

This was exactly what I needed. Hands-on experience. It didn't matter how many spells, rituals, and different alchemy transmutations I learned, nothing could beat real combat-earned experience. I then made my way to what probably was the registration barrack. After giving a little bribe to the woman so my combat would be the next, I slowly walked to the arena entrance.

_______________________________

"And now, welcome the new duelist of the evening, MR. HUDSON!!"

Right after hearing the announcer screaming my fake persona name, I stepped into the dueling ring. In front of me was a tall, rough-looking man. He was completely bald, with a thick mustache that completely covered his mouth. He then looked at me, and with a grin said "Eh, fresh meat. I always love to put you, people, in their place. I'll teach what's REAL dueling!" I had to admit that his body was in a good shape. I had always exercised, as being in the top physical condition was extremely important for any wizard or witch. But the man in front of me, with his fully developed adult body, was leagues above me. In physical conditioning at least. Because, with how little blue particles were around him, I could tell he was below average.

"Now then gentleman. At the count of three. One... two... th.." before the announcer could even finish, the bald man had already shot at me a bone-breaking curse. I easily deflected it with a small Protego charm in my wand, the kind Aurors used. He then continued with a Stupify aimed at my head, and a Confringo right after. I easily dodged the red spell and fire explosion, before transfiguring the ground into a wall of spikes that rushed at him. While he tried to destroy the transfigured wall, I apparated right behind him, casting a nasty curse I had created. This curse was especially nasty because it disabled most of a wizard's nervous system for a day or two, while it had a shadow-like color to it. The man, without even noticing it, got it by the curse. He then quickly fell, face-planting on the ground.

The Announcer was looking like he had seen a dementor. It isn't every day that you see someone able to apparate mid-duel as I had. He then slowly looked at the bald man, "Is... is he dead?" he asked, afraid of what I could do.

"Of course not. But he won't be able to move for the next two days. So you better get him out of here." I then walked out of the arena, hearing chants and songs with my name, and directing myself to the waiting room, as I would have some more battles. When I was finally out of anyone's sight, I clenched my fists, while a silly but scary smile appeared on my fake face.

"This feeling, this is exactly what I wanted!" After reaching the waiting room, I leaned back on a chair and talked to myself. "I pity the poor souls that will go against me. I've still got so many spells to try out!"

Creation is hard, cheer me up!

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