Chapter 4
The morning light shone brightly, and also directly into the thinly lidded eyes of the honored guest of Nurmengard Castle. Not that they knew they were an honored guest, mind you, nor where they were, nor even their own name. No, the small figure that had been all but drowned in a sea of blue blankets was blissfully unaware of many things as consciousness slowly returned to them.
The bed was large and blue and dark wood, the room large and entirely made of light grey stone, a castle? Maybe… It felt like that could be right. There were richly colored rugs laid on the floor and tapestries hung on the walls, and a massive fireplace was set into one wall, that would be perfect for flooing. A very nice place, castle or not.
The boy pulled back the thick, dark velvet covers and noticed the too-large silver silk pajamas that he was wearing for the first time. Weird… The material felt nice as it brushed against the sensitive skin of his arms and he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt anything so soft.
It took some wiggling to get to the edge of the bed, it was so large, and he was pleased to find that there was a thick rug underneath the bed, so he didn’t have to risk his bare feet on the cold stone right away. He had made it as far as the wall mounted mirror, about five steps away from the bed, and had just enough time to gape at his reflection, before the door to the room was thrown open and two very different looking people ran in.
The boy instinctively reached for something that wasn’t there and was disconcerted by the confusion that drew from him. He was tense and ready to fight or flea at any moment as he observed the two figures in front of him. There was a man and a woman.
The man was tall, a ridiculous height that was unfair, the boy thought with a pout. He had golden blond hair and there was something about his eyes, but it was hard to tell what from a distance. The most noticeable thing about the man was the thick dark magic that seeped out, tendrils of it reaching out into the space surrounding him, searching and snapping. It was mesmerizing. He was sure he hadn’t ever seen anything like it before.
The woman was a bit shorter, though not short by any means. Her dark hair was pulled into a low bun and she had a worried look in her eyes as she looked him over. The both of them wore robes, of different styles, though reassuringly, neither was brandishing a wand.
It made him relax, if only a fraction. The man took the moment to raise his hands into the air, as if in surrender, and took the smallest of steps forward. The boy stood frozen as he watched the tendrils of magic reach for him, though he took a hurried step back before they could reach him.
He didn’t know these people. He was certain that he had never seen them before, though there was something about the man and his magic that rang as familiar. The man seemed to be studying him just as intensely and he needed to know.
“Who are you?”
His voice was hoarse from disuse and he cleared his throat slightly with a blush. The man pulled his wand out of seemingly nowhere and the boys eyes immediately snapped to it with caution and curiosity. It was extra long and made of a dark wood with knobby bumps down the length. Something about it drew his attention and he watched enraptured as the mans magic flowed through the wand and out as a conjured glass of water, that was then floated over to him.
He eyed the glass before grabbing it out of the air and sniffing it. It didn’t smell like anything but that didn’t necessarily mean there was nothing but water inside. He eyed the other man suspiciously and he finally seemed to take that as his cue to start talking.
“I am Gellert Grindelwald and this is my castle,”
So he was right, it was a castle. The man had an accent that the boy wasn’t quite sure where to place. Something Germanic in the base of it, though he wasn’t much educated on languages and telling European accents apart.
“And this,” he motioned towards the woman, who was now a step behind him and still eyeing the boy in concern, “is your healer, Gabrielle Dumont.”
A healer? What for?
He must have said that bit aloud because the woman spoke up for the first time in a decidedly French accent. He did know that one.
“You’ve been in a magical coma for just over a fortnight, Mr. Peverell. How are you feeling? Do you remember what happened?”
“I-” the boy looked down at himself, “I feel pretty great, I think.”
He shrugged and then frowned as he thought about her second question. What had happened? He wasn’t sure. Not at all actually. What had he been doing and how had he gotten here? Where was this again?
“You said my name is what?”
“Peverell,” the man enunciated the name in his gruff voice, eyes locked on his own. They were two different shades of blue, it was very pretty. “Hardwin Peverell.”
The boy crinkled his nose at that. Hardwin?
“Hardwin?” he asked, exasperated. That was an old mans name, or a very different kind of young man than himself.
The man, Gellert? Grindelwald? He looked amused by the boys outburst but the healer Dumont only looked more concerned.
“You do not remember your name? What else have you forgotten? What is the last date you remember? Do you know how old you are?”
“I’m seventeen, I think. The date… I don’t know. Winter of 19… something- I’m not really sure.”
The healer stepped towards him and he had to stop himself from taking another step backwards. She was a healer, he could trust her, right? He let the woman lead him back to the bed where she started casting what she explained to be diagnostic spells, all under the intense scrutiny of the other man.
Hardwin… something about that felt just wrong to him. He supposed that it should bother him that he wasn’t sure why, that he wasn’t sure of his own name, and in a way he supposed it did bother him only… did it really? He was sure that part of him almost felt relieved by the lack of knowledge. ‘Ignorance is bliss”, that was a saying, wasn’t it?
He must have zoned out as when he became aware once again the healer was speaking in low tones to the man, who was still staring at him. Hardwin didn’t think the man had taken his eyes off of him the whole time and his magic... his magic flowed close without ever invading his space and he wasn’t sure if he appreciated the curtesy or not. Part of Hardwin wanted to just reach out and touch it on his own. He could with the slight shift of a hand, the darkness crept so closely. It called to him and his pinky finger twitched.
The sound of his name drew him from his thoughts once more. What was wrong with him? He really shouldn’t be so unguarded while amongst who he could only guess to be strangers.
The healer had left the room at some point during his distractedness, leaving only the giant blond man with the mismatched blue eyes. Hardwin refused to allow himself to be distracted by the man or his magic as they held each others gaze for a moment too long. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to this man, Gellert Grindelwald? Did he want something? Was he expecting Hardwin to do or say something? He had only just awoken. Should he thank the man? Probably so, he probably should have thanked the healer as well but she was already gone.
Hardwin opened his mouth to do just that when the other man cut him off, which- rude! They had been stewing in an awkard silence and just when he went to speak this ‘Gellert’ decided to cut him off?
He wasn’t pouting, he wasn’t, but even so his expression seemed to amuse the other man who had a slight smirk on his face by the time he finished speaking. It was a small thing but Hardwin noticed it none the less.
What had he even asked him? He was really having a hard time concentrating on anything at the moment. Hardwin squinted at the man, Gellert, in frustration. Even if it wasn’t his fault, he wasn’t helping matters by being so distracting, his magic almost dancing in his apparent amusement. The smirk on his face growing into a truer thing as Hardwin continued to glower at him.
“I asked if you were hungry, häschen [1]…” the man repeated in his strongly accented rumble.
The voice was a distraction unto itself until he processed the words. The last word was German, he was almost sure, though he didn’t know what it meant. Was he hungry? Yes, yes he was. Now that it was pointed out to him, Hardwin felt as if he was actually starving and that was barely an exaggeration.
His expression seemed to speak for itself as the man nodded and mumbled something to himself that Hardwin couldn’t make out. Barely a second passed before a snap echoed around the stone room, causing the boy to jump slightly. Three house-elves arrived in the room in a flurry, not sparing a glance towards either wizard. Gellert didn’t spare them a glance either, he noticed, eyes still locked on Hardwin’s as the elves popped table and chairs and half a feasts worth of food into existence on the other side of the room. It only took a moment for the house-elves to finish their work before disapperating back to where they had arrived from.
He knew that he was probably gaping now, there was nothing to do about it. There was so much food and it was all for him? He didn’t know the last time that he had access to the sheer amount that was laid in front of him, not that that was saying much since he couldn’t remember anything, but still…
His gaze shifted between the table and the man who was acting as if it were not such a monumental thing to offer up. He barely reacted as the man drew nearer, both his magic and hand reaching towards Hardwin, the hand an offer, a question. He hesitated for only a moment before reaching back. He hadn’t noticed when he had drawn in on himself, his arms wrapped around the knees he hadn’t even realized that he had brought to his chest.
The contact was a jolt, like static electricity on a soul deep level. Frozen lightning. He debated pulling away but by the time the thought flashed through his mind the feeling had subsided into a slight tingle. Gellert’s grip was firm and steady, tightening and relaxing as the feeling passed them.
The larger man easily helped him up and out of his seat on the bed over towards the food laden table. It seemed a little unnecessary to Hardwin and he thought about complaining or pulling away when his foot seemed to come in contact with a block of ice. A totally justifiable squeal left his lips as he jumped slightly in surprise, looking down at the offending floor. Ah right, he wasn’t wearing socks and the rug didn’t expand the whole room. He glanced at his bear toes and then up at the silently amused man above him. Maybe he could ask the man to summon socks for him, or maybe slippers…
Instead he felt another gasp leave him as a strong arm wrapped around his back and swooped his legs out from under him, as if carrying him was the easiest and most logical option.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he questioned the man, wacking him on his too-solid chest for good measure. You don’t just lift people without asking!
“You must eat, mein engel [2]. We can warm your feet after you sit.”
His voice was even more rumbly when Hardwin was pressed against his chest. There wasn’t much use arguing with the man as his long legs had him at the table in only a few strides. Hardwin was deposited into one of the large cushioned dining chairs directly, instead of being placed on the floor and allowed to seat himself. A thick tartan blanket appeared from magic and settled itself over his legs and the other man silently sat himself across from Hardwin. Wordless and wandless magic was impressive, even the simple summoning was more than many wizards could achieve he knew, though he couldn’t remember how. Not that it was all that surprising from a wizard with magic so thick and reaching.
The spread of food was impressive, there were things he recognized and things that he didn’t and he wasn’t quite sure if that was the memory issue or his own ignorance, so he waited and watched the other man to see what he did. Gellert seemed to notice that he was waiting on him and gave a brief smile before beginning to plate portions of different things. He wondered if the other man thought he worried the food was poisoned as he chose to serve himself from the same dishes. He wasn’t, though maybe he should be. He didn’t know this Gellert Grindelwald. He didn’t think he did. He was almost certain he hadn’t known him, didn’t know him, or well maybe he did now as they were eating a meal together.
“I thought you may wish to regain your strength in private before venturing out into the greater castle, though you are free to do so whenever you wish. The only people who have access to this wing at the current moment are ourselves, Dumont, and my second-in-command, Vinda Rosier. Either woman would, of course, be more than willing to help you with anything you require.”
He was almost certain that he missed the first part of what Gellert had said, lost to his mind once more, though by the end he was locked onto every word. The phrasing ‘second-in-command’ was what caught his attention the most.
“Who are you?” He tilted his head in question.
“Gellert Grindelwald..”
He huffed at the amusement that laced the other man’s voice.
“I know, you’ve said that already, but like, who has a second-in-command? A general?”
“A general, a revolutionary… I am both and I am neither. I am but a man, engel.”
Hardwin thought on it and he could see how the man could be a revolutionary, even in the short time they had known each other. He was charismatic and handsome and that seemed a winning combination when it came to those who wanted to change the world. He let out a gulp as said charismatic and handsome man leaned towards him, elbows planted on the table, and continued to speak, wolfish grin plastered on his face.
“Who I am can come later, häschen. What I’m curious about is who you are.”