Conversation with a prisoner

*Narrator pov*

Gellert Grindelwald's prison cell is located at the top of a towering, ancient castle. The room is circular, with thick stone walls that have weathered centuries. High, narrow windows are barred with iron, allowing slivers of light to filter through and casting eerie shadows on the floor. The ceiling arches upwards, giving the room a cavernous feel, and the air is cold and damp, carrying the scent of moss and age.

The cell is sparsely furnished, with a simple cot pushed against one wall, and covered with a thin, worn blanket. A small, rickety wooden table and chair sit near the window, where Grindelwald often contemplates his next move. The stone floor is uneven, with cracks running through it, and the walls are adorned with the remnants of ancient tapestries, now faded and torn.

Chains and manacles hang ominously from the walls, though Grindelwald is not restrained by them. The enchantments placed on the cell are powerful, ensuring he cannot use his magic to escape. The atmosphere is heavy with the sense of history and the echoes of past prisoners who have languished here. Despite the bleak surroundings, Grindelwald's presence seems to infuse the room with a sinister energy, his eyes gleaming with determination as he bides his time, plotting his return to power.

Albus sighed while looking at his old friend the Gellert he once knew was akin to a phoenix whose flames couldn't be put out. Now he looked at a man who looked done, tired of life and everything about it.

But Gellert Grindelwald was not your average wizard even in defeat he carried a sense of strength, his body might be exhausted but his soul was still unshaken.

"What are you doing here? Don't tell me it is to gloat it would not be a good look on you Albus," Gellert spoke a grin forming on his face

Albus shook his head his eyes were filled with sadness, "Gloat about what Gellert? About how I had to put away my greatest friend?"

"Tch," the former dark lord scoffed, "A friend wouldn't have betrayed me so deeply,"

"You had to be stopped, Gellert," Albus replied sighing knowing them talking in circles wouldn't help anything, "I came to ask you something," he added quickly before Gellert could reignite an old argument

A smile cracked on the dark wizard's lips, "Ask away Albus I'm not going anywhere," he spread his arms out drawing attention to the cell that confined him

Albus shook his head at his old friend's attitude, "I must admit you are more knowledgeable than me when it comes to wizarding history and families,"

"Go on," a satisfied smirk played on Gellerts lips

"Do you know the Everglade family?" Albus finally asked and didn't fail to notice the slight narrowing of Gellerts eyes

"Nothing important there just a recluse family that built their reputation by trading favors," Gellert lied seamlessly

Sadly he was rusty in the art of deception and Albus knowing the man for so long was easily able to see through him, "You don't seriously think I would buy that Gellert,"

Gellert laughed, "Of course not," He though he really hoped Albus would buy it, "They are an old family it is almost impossible to find a record of when the Everglades first popped up I think they changed their name personally. In every record, I found while researching them they were important. A genius wizard, a genius alchemist, a genius politician, and more. Why are you asking about them anyway their members are scarce now,"

Albus didn't respond immediately he was in deep thought over what Gellert said. He of course did his own research and found a lot of the same things but never anything actually worthwhile.

"It's because I have a member of theirs on my staff, Morpheus Everglade. Interesting family trait too clear eyes,"

*BAM!* Gellert slammed into the bars, "Get rid of that man Albus!" the urgency and anger in his tone were surreal Albus had only seen his old friend like this a handful of times

"You know him?" Albus asked urgently walking closer to the bars

"Know him Albus that man is the rea-" Mid-sentence Gellert started to dry heave his vision turning blurt

"Dont trust him, Albus," Gellert croaked out before crashing onto the floor his back leaning against the bars

"You can't speak of him," Albus whispered faintly

A shaky nod.

"Write,"

A shake of the head signaling no.

"When did you meet him?" Albus tried asking a roundabout question

"26,"

"26?" Albus muttered, "Impossible,"

"How old was he?" Albus asked urgently

"Early to mid-twenties," Gellert ground out

Albus became still, "Thank you, Gellert I must go," he said hurriedly before turning and walking away

"Don't trust him, Albus!" Gellert called

"I'm not a fool,"

***

Whilst the leader of the light and the former leader of the dark talked once more for the first time in years the new dark lord was not lounging around.

Morpheus was right the first public attack against wizards would be in a week or so but, that did not mean Voldemort wouldn't attack other people earlier.

A group of Aurors stood inside the house of a half-blood child. His parents and sister were dead along with the boy himself, he was just a fourth year so young.

So unprotected living in the muggle world.

"Another one," one of the Aurors sighed shaking his head in genuine sadness, "How does this keep happening?"

"Whoever is doing this is fast we got here only five minutes after the detection,"

"One guy? Are you sure I think we should be looking at a group, we have at least two different magical signatures,"

"Has to be a group," another replied agreeing with his partner, "Fucking twisted group far larger than what you are thinking of Fred, as these signatures are different from the ones two days ago,"

"Bloody hell,"

"Oi, you think these guys can be a part of the same people who attacked Hogwarts and were doing those attacks last summer?"

One of the Aurors narrowed his eyes at the man's deduction his hand was massaging his left forearm.

"No, highly unlikely the people who did this look to be unorganized look at all of the damage it would have just brought attention onto themselves. I bet we are looking for some gang," The Auror spoke with convincing confidence

"Are you sure this doesn't look like some gang attack,"

"I am positive, now let's go this place is to muggle," he said in disdain

Attacks like these were happening all too often in half-blood homes across Britain. Truth was it was getting harder and harder to respond to each one in time.

It was just the beginning.