(Autumn 1923)
The meeting is interrupted by a wanting noise.
Grindelwald looks down at his lap and is met by a small, innocent face with teal eyes. He switches to holding her with one hand and reaches for a drawer. He pulls out a milk bottle and feeds the baby girl in his lap, who latches on hungrily and starts sucking out the milk.
Krall’s expression is strange as he stares at the barely six-month-old baby whom their leader refuses to let out of his sight for even a moment.
Vinda Rosier, like most of the Alliance’s inner circle, is somewhat taken aback by their newest resident. However, she discovered the child’s existence several months before her fellow acolytes when she entered her maitre’s quarters late one night on January 27th to report on the first rally hosted by the muggle Adolf Hitler in Munich.
None dared defy or question their respected leader or the child’s origin beyond discreet speculations, but Krall seems to have different, rather foolish ideas. Vinda wouldn’t have chosen such a route, as even Grindelwald’s patience is limited.
“Why do we care about an infant? We’re not a kindergarten.”
“Children have needs, just as we do. The difference is that while we have the years of experience to decipher those needs and the physical capability to fulfil them, a child is unable to do so.”
“She’s a liability.”
Grindelwald looks up from the feeding infant and stares at Krall briefly before looking down at his child. He gently releases his hold on the bottle, catching the girl’s attention. She eagerly grabs the bottle and continues feeding, her eyes wandering between Grindelwald and Krall.
Maitre drew his wand, and a second later, the coward is withering on the floor, screaming silently while the little girl remains unfazed.
It was cathartic to see Grindelwald gracefully seated in his study chair, holding an infant with one hand while casually torturing someone with the other.
He was a cold and ruthless God with convictions against a centuries-long system of oppression and injustice among humanity, with the blood of hundreds on his hands. Yet, he was a ferociously protective father who did not tolerate insult or harm to his child through actions or words.
Eventually, Grindelwald speaks as the spell’s crackling dies, and Krall regains awareness of his surroundings and recovers enough from the curse to listen.
“As much as hearing your screams would no doubt serve well to teach you this, I am indeed responsible for the well-being of an infant. While she will grow up in an environment far from what is suitable for a child, she does not need to be exposed to cruelty. So, the use of Silencio will have to do.”
He stands up as Ariana summons the last traces of milk into her mouth, stops feeding, and releases her hold on the bottle. He gently places her into her hanging cot behind his desk and takes the now-empty bottle from her, using a silent cleaning spell before returning it inside the drawer. Grindelwald then aims his wand at Krall once more.
A full minute passes before the Crucio cast fades, and he speaks again.
“My infant daughter has already wielded the elements, demonstrating power and determination. Such traits are misunderstood and feared by the Ministries. What does any Ministry do to what they don’t understand and fear?”
Looking down at l'imbécile, Grindelwald strides to the other side of the desk and crouches in front of him. Vinda couldn’t quite grasp what has replaced his previous displeasure. Krall avoids looking at Grindelwald as the man examines his expression and trembling demeanour.
“They destroy whatever frightens them. What would they do to little Ariana if they discovered her existence? Would they allow a child of mine and Albus Dumbledore to exist despite their disbelief? Would they take on such a possibility?”
All eyes turned to the hanging cot behind the desk in disbelief. A pair of little hands were playing with fire, apparently ignorant or indifferent to the tension in the room.
Carrow was visibly taken aback, remaining uncharacteristically silent instead of making one of her usual retorts. Zabini was quiet as always but looked to be in thought about the revelation. Grimmson looked almost angered, staring at Grindelwald in both confusion and frustration.
“How is that possible? Albus Dumbledore is our enemy, isn’t he? How can such a child exist?”
Grindelwald only smirked mysteriously at their amazement, not providing an answer to Grimmson’s inquiry as he stood up and walked back behind the desk, a sign he was finished teaching Krall for now, who hesitantly started to get up on his feet, wary of provoking their leader’s anger.
“I look forward to hearing what you learned, Krall. I do not enjoy torturing my acolytes, but I do not tolerate hostility towards my child, no matter her age. I shall question you tomorrow after you’ve had the night to rest and recover. Dismissed.”
As the acolytes leave the room, Vinda looks back at her Maitre as he observes the infant in the white cot that hangs securely from the ceiling, still playing with her fire. A genuine, fond smile on his face makes her pause.
Grindelwald has always looked detached, untouchable, unreachable like a God walking amongst mortals.
His daughter made him humane, and that made her terrified to think of what he would do should anyone seek to harm her.