Corvus used flame travel and went to the drawing room at Grimmauld Place, then through the hearth into the Minister's personal quarters. Arcturus watched from behind the desk. Vinda stood at the window. Grigori and Sigibert claimed the armchairs like owners. A pale man with glacier eyes waited by the map case.
Corvus entered the office from the side door and inclined his head towards the group.
Henrick Voss came forward. A firm clasp, a steady grip. "A pleasure, Heir Black. Your model in the Norwegian Conclave works like a charm. The settlements hold. The Werewolves are no longer hunted. Vampires are happy to be part of the Wizarding World. I heard we owe you for that success."
"The pleasure is mine," Corvus answered. "Norway is not a conclave anymore. It is a nation in all but name. I suggest you start to choose your department heads when you return."
Grigori snorted. Sigibert's mouth twitched. Vinda's goblet tapped once on the sill.
Arcturus drew a small velvet roll from the drawer and shook six bronze disks onto the blotter. "Portkeys." He handed them round. "We leave at once." He took one step back, a grin cutting the beard. "Activation word is, Gellert."
No one had time to trade looks as the portkeys activated with Arcturus' voice. The hook took hold. The office tore away.
Cold bit first. Then the sound of the wind, a constant rasp over stone. The world snapped back on a ledge of black rock that faced a fortress cut from the same vein. Nurmengard rose from the ridge like a verdict. Blank walls. Arrow slits like shut eyes. A single high tower speared the cloud, the top lost in blown snow. Over the gate, an arch carried words chiselled deep for anyone who entered to read: For the Greater Good.
Boots crunched, cloaks snapped, and breath steamed. The iron gate stood open, a mouth without warmth. Torches guttered in bowls along the wall and threw hard light that showed every seam in the stone.
A knot of witches and wizards waited below the arch. Cloaks in the Austrian cut. Medals at throats. They bowed with care to the old guard that had broken Europe once and then bound it. Eyes paused on Voss; some others lingered on Corvus.
A tall man stepped out and placed a fist over his heart. "Dame Rosier. Herren Black, Krafft, Volkov, Herr Voss und Herr Black. Welcome to Austria. Maximilian Schattenwald, head of our DMLE. Minister Claudia Weissmantel sends her regards. She could not make it as reforms do not implement themselves." A thin smile. "You have a senior Auror escort. A mansion in Salzburg stands ready while you conduct your business."
Corvus let Memory Mapping work as he checked every one of the Aurors and Maximilian himself. The Elder Wand slid into his palm under the cloak. The tip hummed at the wrist, eager. He tasted a thread in the chill air and turned his head a fraction. One of the Aurors was not working only for the Austrian Ministry. The man's memory had multiple blocks hidden under oaths or contracts...
"You should be careful, Herr Schattenwald," Corvus said. "Your halls leak; this gentleman in particular is reporting to somewhere else."
Blue light cracked. The suspect dropped where he stood, locked and lifted before the others had a stance. Wands came up in a half circle. Snow swirled, caught in the small cyclones of rising spells.
Maximilian did not flinch. He looked at the floating Auror, then at his line. "You two. Take him to the Ministry. I want the last ten years of his memories on my desk." He turned back. "Your fame precedes you, Herr Black. We will adopt your contracts. At once." His gaze flicked to the Elder Wand, then away. Professional courtesy made plain at the speed of casting and pinning a spy. "If you will forgive me, I have a spy to break." He vanished with a twist that snapped the air.
Seven Aurors remained. One woman with sharp features met Sigibert's eye and gave a short nod. Two men behind her did the same. Sigibert returned it. "Old friends," he murmured. "We go in good company."
The gate groaned as the wind pressed it. Steel on stone. Inside the wall, the yard opened to a court of hard packed snow and granite. A stair climbed the inner keep, narrow and steep, the sort meant for defence, not comfort. The tower loomed over all, a dark finger that pointed at judgment.
"Move," Vinda said and started up. Her robe snapped in the gale like a banner.
Sigibert fell in beside Corvus. "Did you notice how young Grigori looks, Corvus?" He asked with an eyebrow raised already.
"How strange," Corvus said. "As if he went back in time."
Sigibert's voice lowered in tone, and he leaned closer. "I talked to him, he mentioned I should talk to you and be ready to sign a contract. I did, and I will. Hence, you are officially invited to Krafft Mansion in Berlin at your earliest convenience."
Corvus noticed Arcturus and Grigori looking at him, and to Sigibert, who was moving towards the Aurors. "Thirty eight," Grigori cut in, dry. "And I bet. Vinda will demand thirty seven."
Vinda did not look back. "Thirty five."
Grigori groaned.
Arcturus grinned, "I'll be waiting for Elizaveta's visit, dear friend. I can't wait to tell her that her summer vacation was wagered by her dear grandfather."
They climbed. Breath and boot on stone. The wind fell away as the stair turned within the wall, and the sound became the slow drum of their own steps. At the first landing, an iron door stood ajar.
Corvus ran a palm across the door. Cold sank through the glove.
They took the next run two steps at a time. At the second landing, another door. It was sealed as runes lay in the seam. An array that stopped magic from reaching in and out. Voss leaned to study them and gave a small grunt.
"Expert work,"
"They were etched by Gellert himself," Vinda added.
"Better to dismantle them," Arcturus continued and turned to Corvus. "If you will, please."
It took Corvus a couple of minutes to dismantle all of the arrays.
Magic rushed in a visible wind.
The third run steepened. The escorts kept pace, silent. Above, narrow windows cut the stone and fed light like thin knives. Snow dust drifted down the shafts and melted on their shoulders. At last, the stairs turned into a small antechamber with a single black door bound with silver. A sigil was inlaid at the centre. The same motto in the same hand.
Sigibert set a palm to the silver. "He used to like speeches before work."
Arcturus drew breath and let it out. He looked at Vinda. "I believe you should open it."
Corvus was still dismantling wards. "In addition to the ones put by the Acolytes or the Alliance, there were parallel wards to log entries and magical signatures. Clearly, the Confederation's work. They are illegal in Austria, so their wards must be removed."
Vinda tapped the silver band with one fingertip. Wards rose, thin and clear, like ribs seen through skin. She read the shape of them. Turned to Corvus as if to confirm, he nodded and pointed at three intersections. Vinda cut a line that was not visible until he pointed at it. Wards faded one by one; the lock fell. The door sighed and swung inward.
The cell was simple, made of the same stone, a bed, a stool, and a table. One high slit of a window that held the afternoon like a blade. A man sat at the table with a book closed under his hands. White hair close to the scalp. A face that time had pared to bone and calm. He lifted his gaze, one eye pale and the other dark and took them all in, one by one, as if sorting pieces on a board. The barest smile touched the mouth.
"Friends," Gellert Grindelwald said, voice low from long disuse. "I was waiting."
Vinda stepped in first and hugged him. "You are missed sorely," she said.
Grindelwald's eyes softened. "Sigibert. It seems time was cruel only to us. We look like their grandfathers."
"Not for long," Sigibert murmured, without taking his eyes from the man.
Arcturus moved to the left, Vinda to the right. Grigori stood square at the door, arms loose. Voss took the wall, watchful. Corvus remained where the wards had given way, the Elder Wand quiet in his hand. He left it visible on purpose. Snow hissed against the slit of the window, and the tower held its breath.
"Lord Grindelwald," Corvus said, "I heard a lot about you. Shall we leave, or would you like to enjoy the lovely weather?"
Grindelwald's gaze lingered on the Elder Wand for a while. He stood up slowly.
"Corvus Black," he said. "You have changed everything."
--
Arcturus crossed the space and pulled Gellert into a hard, brief embrace. Vinda allowed it with a small tilt of the chin. Grigori clapped Gellert on the shoulder and barked out a laugh that broke once in his throat. Sigibert followed, jaw tight, eyes wet and angry.
Gellert took them in, one by one, then looked to the two he did not know. "Henrick Voss," he said, voice low but steady. "I was fascinated by the changes you made in Norway. I would love to hear the details when we have time." Voss' chest lifted as if to accept a charge.
Gellert's gaze moved to Corvus. "You are a nightmare for seers, Corvus Black."
"Occupational hazard." Corvus' tone was dry.
"Walk with me," Gellert said. "There are brothers and sisters in the lower cells. This place was raised by our hands. It should not keep us any longer."
Vinda flicked her wand. Shackles fell silent. The door groaned. The corridor beyond was narrow and cold, the sconces low and mean. They moved as a unit, Auror escorts hanging back at a look from Sigibert.
"My death," Gellert said as their steps took them past the first stair, "was meant to come at the hands of a visitor who wanted to know of a particular wand." His eyes slid to Corvus.
Corvus had already settled the Elder Wand away. Grindelwald already got the message.
"Oh, I am pretty sure," Corvus said. "You would know about that particular wand and how to get it back." The faint smile on his face was predatory.
Gellert's mouth bent. "I considered it. All of it. Each vision I had. There is only one path that I keep my life to myself when I look ahead."
They reached the first row of dungeon doors. Vinda dismantled the runes. Locks thudded, and the door swung. A witch lifted her head, disbelief breaking into a sob. Grigori stepped in, cut her chains, and passed out a cloak. Sigibert checked the next cell. Another. And another. All of them stood straight. Like Gellert, they were given potions and kept to drills for the last five months. All bowed their heads when they saw Gellert.
"Up," Gellert told them. "We are finished with this hole."
As they worked, he kept his eyes on Corvus. "So. What do you want of me?"
"Your movement is alive because I personally invested in it, Lord Grindelwald. It was right in the core and wrong on the rest." Corvus tilted his head to the left a little, measuring Gellert and the Acolytes who were imprisoned with him. "What you could not manage in decades, I did in years. I do agree with many of your doctrines, and none of your methods. You brought devastation to Wizardkin and misery to your acolytes.
Vinda and Arcturus shifted at Corvus' words and tone.
Corvus continued, he palmed the Elder Wand, and locked his gaze with Grindelwald.
"You want what you lost to Dumbledore." Gellert's gaze went to the elder Wand, and his mind to the duel he had with Albus. "Go on, start the duel. I'm giving you the first move as well. We will set the new hierarchy based on the result of the duel." Corvus' challenge was full of barbs.
Corvus threw the Elder Wand to Gellert with a mocking grin on his face. Gellert caught his former wand. "I can continue without a wand, Lord Grindelwald."
When Gellert did not move, Corvus resumed his taunting. "You can have your acolytes, too. I am confident enough that I can defeat you all. I will even spare the ones we have just freed."
Again, no one moved for a while. After a few seconds, Arcturus took a step to stand next to Corvus. Grigori took a step back, declaring his neutrality. Sigibert hesitated for a moment and then stood next to Grigori. Vinda, however, was still undecided. After a while, she stepped between Gellert and Corvus.
Gellert chuckled. Behind and around him stood his acolytes who were imprisoned with him, against him, a youth, a kid compared to his age. Yet strong enough to challenge him. Arcturus stands next to his kin. Sigibert, the voice of logic, chooses neutrality with Grigori. Vinda, instead of standing with or against him, stood in between.
"He is my heir and pupil," she said. "Yet even I am not sure of his capabilities. I will not allow the two of you to duel."
While the drama was going on, Corvus was already absorbing Gellert's Dark Arts talent. Extreme speed allowed him to have the necessary time. The world was slow enough for him to finish absorbing the experience. It was not hard when the last couple of decades were nothing but standing in a stone cell doing nothing.
What intrigued Corvus, however, was the spell Fiendfyre. Gellert has found a way to change not only the colour of the fyre, but he made it connect to his will instead of fighting it. That was the trick, especially when considering that Gellert has never finished his education. He was talented in Dark Arts and Rituals. He was strong, way too strong for a young mind with visions of World War II. He was one of the strongest seers who walked on the face of the earth. Yet he was not strong enough to accept Corvus' challenge. Not now, when his body was still recovering. Not when he was at the peak of his rule, and not in the future.
This much he knew from his visions. The last five months have repaired him from much of what Nurmengrad had taken from him. Healers, potions, and all the exercises have worked a miracle.
It was time for the hierarchy of the New Order to settle.