A Gaunting Prospect

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They had a name. Ignotus Peverell. But their trail stopped there. They needed to trace the name forward and find if any descendants of the Peverells still existed. There was only one place that they would find those kind of records. 

"The Ministry of Magic?" Albus raised his eyebrows. 

As soon as Albus had proved his point with the gravestone, the boys had adjourned to Albus' room where they'd been for the past few hours. It was coming up on ten o' clock and Gellert had finally reached the climax of his masterplan. 


"Exactly," Gellert nodded, smiling with what Albus thought was malevolence. "In the bowels of the Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Mysteries, are the records of everything and everyone Magic. I'd be willing to bet that the files we need are down there. The Peverells, their ancestors. Their descendants. Everything."


"If they had all the information, I think the Ministry would be out hunting these hallows down," Albus said. He was stretched out on his bedspread, but Gellert was pacing restlessly. 


"What if we're the only one who made the connection?" Gellert asked, eyes glinting hungrily. "It's entirely possible, I mean...it's quite an arbitrary link. I'm not saying it doesn't fit, but...I doubt the Ministry will send aurors across the world because they found a picture in a book."


Albus had to admit, Gellert had a point. But he could still spot a gaping flaw in the plan. "There's just one problem, Grindelwald. I doubt the Ministry will let two eighteen-year-old boys just waltz into the Department of Mysteries and flick through restricted files."


Gellert smiled again. But it wasn't a warm, friendly smile. It was a mischievous grin. 


Albus' eyes widened. "You want us to break into the Ministry?"

"No flies on Dumbledore," Grindelwald drawled. 

Albus hopped off of his bed and unfolded himself to his full height. "You do realise that that's  not just trespassing? This is the Department of Mysteries. And we're of age. We could be charged with conspiracy and sedition!"

"Yeah? And?"


"And the punishment for treason is a ten-year tour of Azkaban, you know that right?" Albus checked. 

"Come on, Dumbledore," Gellert groaned. "You of all people should know that if there's no sacrifice, there's no victory. If we are the ones to unite these three Hallows, then we will have taken a huge leap for not just ourselves, but all of wizardkind!"


Albus said nothing, and Gellert took it to mean 'carry on'. 


"For too long, wizards have hidden from muggles," Gellert said. "Out of fear? No, no, the real answer is much less dignified than simple cowardice. We hide, belittle ourselves and our children as a courtesy  to them. To preserve their swollen egos. Their tiny minds could no more comprehend the existence of Magic than they could the sky turning into cheese. They would fear and hate us. They would hunt us. All because they believe they have a divine right to be superior. I've seen it."


Albus said nothing. The look in Grindelwald's eye. The way his jawline tensed. Gellert was more than clever, he was wise. It was as though he was aware of truths beyond the normal scope, for an eighteen-year-old wizard. It was as though a beast, hungry for power, lurked just beneath the surface. You could see it in his eyes.

More than ever, Albus understood why Durmstrang had expelled him. Gellert Grindelwald was dangerous. And he was right.


Albus propped himself up on his elbows and ran his hand through his brown hair. He took a deep breath. "Say I entertain this for a moment...how would we get in?"


Gellert smirked. He tapped his nose. "With a little sleight of hand."






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