Vivamus moriendum est

Isolde Grindelwald. Only a few people knew who she was. She had always been her father’s most treasured secret. Unlike his war against Dumbledore and the world, Isolde, her dear daughter, was something Gellert Grindelwald had kept hidden from even his most loyal followers. But he made a mistake. When he and his lover had Isolde, he told it to his first love, Dumbledore. He told him everything about how his daughter was born from a brief, doomed love affair with a powerful French pureblood witch. How he planned to raise her away from the battlefield, EVERYTHING. And Dumbledore used that information against him. While he was locked up his daughter was in the care of someone he trusted very much. The mother of his daughter. But he didn’t know that Dumbledore would reach out to her and help her raise HIS daughter. Dumbledore had no right to raise HIS daughter. At least that’s what Gellert thought. He thought that Dumbledore betrayed him. And he even turned his precious daughter against him. When he escaped from prison he went to get his daughter, but she was just not the same. She was all grown up, but there was something else. She was acting very strangely like she was planning something. He was right, but he really wished he wasn’t. But he didn’t know what to expect. Isolde was born in 1942, so she was just three years old when his father went to prison. When he returned, she had a lover and a five-year-old daughter. He already felt like she betrayed him, just by marrying a Lestrange, but because he loved his only daughter so much, he decided to forgive her. After already being with her daughter and her family for a month, he was getting comfortable and spent most of his days with his granddaughter, Kaida. But one day he overheard Isolde talking to Octavianus that she called the Aurors on Gellert.
-Octavianus, I called the aurors. – Isolde told her husband, in a cold voice. She didn’t know her father heard them. At that moment, the illusion in Gellert Grindelwald’s head shattered. He didn’t want to believe his ears. The daughter he had sacrificed so much for, the one he had believed would carry on his legacy had betrayed him. He couldn’t let her, and her husband live. They need to die. But in the quiet moments, when he was with Kaida, the little girl who looked at him with the untainted adoration of a child, something inside him trembled. Could he do this? Could he destroy everything he had once wanted, all for the sake of revenge?
He did it. He killed them. But he couldn’t bring himself to kill Kaida. He left her life to carry on his legacy. The little girl watched him kill her parents. Suddenly someone swung open the door. The Aurors had arrived. As the Aurors closed in, Kaida stood frozen in place, her eyes wide and locked onto him. His heart ached for her, but his pride didn’t allow him to be soft with her. He leaned down to her, his voice low, and whispered to her, knowing this would be the last thing she ever heard from him.
-You are my legacy, Kaida. Never forget that. No matter what happens… remember your blood. It’s your choice what you make of it. Don’t let anyone – not even Dumbledore – tell you who you are. – His words were like a command as if he believed that somehow, even in the face of everything, Kaida might rise above the world that betrayed them. -And don’t forget that granddad loves you very much.
The ministry placed the little girl in Walburga Black's care. When she took Kaida to Grimmauld Place, she didn’t see Her as a burden.
When Kaida arrived at Walburga’s home for the first time, she was nervous. Her house was cold and really imposing. Its walls were lined with generations of Black ancestors who sneered down at her from their portraits. The dark wooden floors creaked under her hesitant steps. But the woman standing in front of her was the coldest presence of all. As afraid as she was at first of her, that quickly she warmed up to her. On one of her first nights, she had a nightmare and Walburga calmed her down and slept next to her and sang her lullabies until she was sleeping again.
-This time – she whispered into the sleeping child’s hair as she was hugging her – I won't fail.
Kaida Andromeda Grindelwald was raised to be the perfect little daughter Walburga Black never had. Kaida was raised with discipline, but she was not unloved. She had been a mother before. After she failed and she lost her sons, she realized her mistakes. She promised herself that she wouldn’t fail nor lose this child. And without her husband, she could finally have a daughter. Nobody knew the horror that Walburga went through because of her husband. She was married to him when she was barely of age, and he was 8 years older than her, and he was cruel. Orion wanted a perfect wife, a silent and obedient woman to provide him with heirs. He had despised the idea of daughters, and because of that, she was forced to abort lots of babies because they would have been girls.
Kaida didn’t know about this, but she could sense it. She could feel it the way Walburga clung to her at night when she had a nightmare, the way she brushed her hair through with her fingers, it was like she was reassuring herself that Kaida was real. Walburga loved her. Not in the way most mothers loved their children – with soft smiles and warm laughter – but the only way she knew how. She protected Kaida, fed her, and taught her to be strong.
And when one time Kaida was really ill with a fever so high that even St. Mungo’s healers were unsure if she would recover, Walburga did something that shocked even Kreacher. She cried.
She stayed by Kaida’s side for a full week, refusing to sleep and eat. She wiped Kaida’s forehead with cool cloths and whispered her lullabies. She didn’t leave.
Kaida was broken when Walburga died. But she didn’t let her tears drop. She sat next to her lifeless body for hours, staring at her still face. She felt the house empty without her. When the ministry came to take Kaida away, she didn’t even resist. But as she stepped past the portrait of Walburga, her voice rang out one last time.
-My daughter. My Kaida. Remember who you are. – Kaida paused and for the first time in ages, she let her tears pour down her face.
She was placed to the Parkinsons. They looked right through her. She didn’t mind it, but it would have been nice to talk to someone. Her days with the Parkinsons were filled with coldness and silence. She spent most of her time in the library or the garden riding her broom.
She just turned ten. Nobody wished her a happy birthday, but it didn’t matter to her. After Walburga’s death, nothing was the same. She barely spoke to anyone in the house. When she got her letter, which she didn’t even expect, she thought it would be from Hogwarts, but it was from Durmstrang. She was a little surprised because she was one year younger, but she was extremely excited about her new journey.
It was finally the day when she would start her new journey. She got ready and went down to have breakfast. Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson were already in the dining room. She ate one slice of toast and drank a cup of tea. Hadrian Parkinson stood before her when she had finished her breakfast. His sharp eyes scanned her as if assessing an investment.
-Andromeda - he said, his voice slow and measured. He had always spoken to her in this way, as though she was some fragile thing he had to mold into something useful. -You leave for Durmstrang today. Do you understand what this means? - Kaida met his gaze, her own expression unreadable.
-Yes, sir.
Beside him, Eugenia Parkinson gave her a thin smile, though there was little warmth behind it.
-We expect you to behave accordingly - she added, adjusting the dark emerald brooch pinned to her robes. -You bear the name Grindelwald but do not mistake that for a privilege. It is a burden, a reminder of past mistakes. – Mr. Parkinson nodded.
-You will not bring shame onto this family. You have been given a place in our home, and in return, you owe us loyalty and discretion. Your past guardians were far too tolerant. We will not tolerate the same softness from you.
Kaida felt her fingers tighten into fists at her sides. Mr. Parkinson took a slow step forward, looking down at her.
-Durmstrang will be an opportunity. A chance for you to prove that you are more than your bloodline. More than your grandfather’s shadow. You are to excel in all areas of study, particularly in the Dark Arts. You will make connections—valuable ones. You will not waste time with foolish sentimentality. And above all… - His voice lowered slightly, his gaze piercing. -You will remember who you are.
Kaida’s jaw clenched. Who was she, exactly? The lost granddaughter of a madman? The daughter of two ghosts? A child passed between hands like a pawn, never truly belonging to anyone?
Hadrian continued, oblivious to the storm brewing behind her expression.
-You will not disappoint us, Andromeda.
Mrs. Parkinson took a step forward and, in an almost motherly gesture, reached out to adjust the collar of Kaida’s cloak. But the touch felt cold, clinical.
-Your time under our care has ended. Make beneficial use of what you have learned here. -She hesitated for a moment, then added in a quieter tone, -And do not make enemies unless you intend to destroy them.
Kaida’s lips pressed into a thin line.
-Understood.
With that, the conversation was over. There were no tearful goodbyes, no last-minute words of encouragement. Just silent as Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson watched her walk toward the grand doors.
As she stepped outside, the bitter wind hit her face, sharp and unforgiving. The carriage that would take her to the Durmstrang portkey was waiting at the edge of the estate. She took one last glance at the looming manor behind her, at the place where she had spent the last few years trapped in obligations and unspoken expectations.
She wouldn’t miss it. Not even for a second.
As she climbed into the carriage, she allowed herself a single, final thought before she left the Parkinsons behind forever:
They had called her Andromeda. They had tried to make her into something she wasn’t.
But she was Kaida. And she would never belong to anyone but herself.
There was an agreement between the Parkinsons and the ministry that they only take care of her until she started school. She had no idea where she would stay during the summer breaks. She probably will stay in a hotel or something.
When she arrived at the portkey, she didn’t even hesitate. She grabbed it and closed her eyes, but when she felt the soil under her legs, she finally opened her eyes.
Durmstrang loomed before her like something out of a dark fairytale—its towering fortress-like structure blending into the bleak, snow-covered mountains surrounding it. The icy wind bit her face, but Kaida barely flinched. If anything, she welcomed the cold. It was real, something she could feel, something that reminded her she was here.