"The Aztec ruin... it was Ilvermorny's former headmaster, Royce Lopez, who first discovered it. I was still teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts back then. Not long after the discovery, he passed the position to Agilbert Fontaine. Their families have been close for generations."
Grindelwald smiled, faintly contemptuous.
The Twelve Aurors, then. However large MACUSA had grown, arguably the largest single wizarding body in the world, at its core it was still the same handful of old families carving up the pie. To join their ranks, you married in, you served, you worked yourself half to death, and only then might you earn a seat at the table.
The Graves family, for instance, had intermarried with the Twelve Aurors for generations before they were finally counted as one of their own.
The pattern existed everywhere, of course. The Continent cared more about bloodline. North America cared more about leverage.
"Where exactly is this ruin?" Grindelwald asked.
Robert's face twisted with discomfort. "Sir... my mind..." He tapped his own skull. "It's the highest secret shared among several families. There's a great deal I'm bound not to say. All I can tell you is that it isn't within our borders. It lies further south."
Grindelwald's eyes narrowed. He said nothing, only crossed the room and pressed his wand to Robert's temple. Robert didn't dare resist. A moment later, a thin silver thread began to draw itself out of his mind, only to dissolve after a few feet.
"More and more interesting." Grindelwald paced, his smile deepening. "I won't push you for what you can't give. Just tell me everything you're free to say."
Robert let out a breath of relief. He'd genuinely feared Grindelwald might tear the secret out of him by force, mind and consequences be damned.
Whether that would even have worked, he had no idea, but it would certainly have cost him something vital in the trying.
Truly a Dark Lord of some vision, weighing even his subordinate's safety against so vast a secret.
Robert was moved. What he didn't know was that Grindelwald only wanted him alive so that Tom could later use him to cut Robert's superiors to the bone.
Working carefully around the edges of his binding oath, phrasing everything as vaguely as he could manage, Robert laid out every scrap of information he was permitted to share, and Grindelwald slowly pieced together a clearer picture.
The Aztec ruin was, indeed, a relic of a prehistoric civilization, holding a wealth of texts and magical records from an age before this one. But beyond all of that, its single most important treasure was something they called simply It.
It was a miracle born of prayer and sacrifice, capable of answering the wishes of those who called upon it.
Current research revolved entirely around It, though as for how far that research had actually progressed, even Robert didn't know. The core members involved were all wizards of the previous generation, and only scattered fragments ever leaked out, such as the vampire whose activities had once caused such a stir across the Continent.
"Is It the Feathered Serpent God?" Grindelwald seemed to be asking Robert the question, and at the same time asking it of himself. But one look at Robert's blank expression told him the man had no answer to give either.
"That's enough. You may go." Grindelwald waved him off, wanting time alone to think it through.
But Robert didn't leave right away. Instead, he asked, carefully, "Sir, is there anything further you need of me?"
Grindelwald glanced at him. "Your superior will be back in a few days. From then on, you'll answer to him."
"Understood."
Robert, assuming his future superior must be someone high in the Sacred Confederation's inner circle, was already turning over ways to win the man's favor and climb the ranks as he bowed respectfully and withdrew from the office.
...
"Andros, where's Tom?"
That evening, Grindelwald returned to the study space, eager to share what he'd learned that day, only to find Andros lounging there alone, clearly bored out of his mind.
"You're just in time!"
Andros perked up instantly, springing off his chair with excitement. "Let's have ourselves a proper duel, something with a little fire in it!"
"I—" Grindelwald barely got the word out before a curse shoved the rest of it back down his throat.
Couldn't take Tom down a peg? Fine. He'd settle for the little Grindelwald standing right in front of him.
Andros went all out, and Grindelwald, caught completely off guard, found himself flat on his back in a smoking crater within minutes.
"Have you lost your mind?" Grindelwald hauled himself up, filthy and furious, glaring at Andros, who was laughing his head off. "I said a friendly spar, not summon your guardian spirit!"
Andros's guardian could match nearly every Dark spell in Grindelwald's arsenal head to head, no contest at all. Under their usual rules, guardians were explicitly banned in their sparring matches. Today, evidently, that rule had been broken.
"Felt great!" Andros didn't bother answering him directly. Instead he remembered what Grindelwald had said walking in. "Oh right, you're looking for Tom. He's over—"
"Little Grindy, you finally made it!"
Tom, who'd been in Joan's cottage keeping her company with a picture book, came running out at the noise.
"Tom—" Grindelwald barely managed the name before another burst of brilliant magic slammed into him.
"So just because Tom became Century Sovereign, you're going to gang up and wreck me too?" Grindelwald asked, all the fight gone out of him, sinking back into the crater. This time he didn't even bother trying to climb out.