" There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight."
Sal looked at his men.
They were all gathered behind him, their faces determined and grim.
"This," Sal said. "Is our only chance. This will be the last time we might get information like the one we have right now. We are risking everything with this coop - including not only our lives but also the existence of the Resistance as a whole."
The men all nodded gravely.
"We will make it count," Allaric Moody told him grimly. "He won't escape again - not as long as I live."
And Sal couldn't help but look at the man - not a boy anymore but truly a man now - in bitter understanding.
He knew what the young man had been going through - and he was willing to support the boy, now man, just to ensure that he wouldn't lose himself to the revenge he wanted to take on those who had taken what he had needed the most in the world when he was still a child and not a war veteran who had seen too much…
"Yes," Sal thought grimly. "This will be our last march. Today will be the day of the final decision on who will win this war."
Still, even with the meagre knowledge of history Sal had brought back with him into the past, he couldn't stop wondering about one thing - just one thing.
Why wasn't Dumbledore with them right now?
After all, this was his history in making - even if it had started with Sal and his ability to stumble into situations he hadn't planned to stumble in at all…
23th May 1913
The world had changed again. Sal couldn't believe how fast the world changed these days. Just fourteen years ago he had been an apprentice at St. Mungo's after giving up his career in teaching and starting anew. Now he was one of the head healers of St. Mungo's - and yet, if his concerns were true, the one who contacted him would change that soon…
"Salvatio Malfoire," a voice said, startling Sal out of his musing. "Salvatio Malfoire, it's good to see you, though I'm surprised that you're still alive after all this time…"
Sal looked up from the table top he had been staring at, into the face of a man he hadn't seen in centuries.
"Hohenheim," he greeted the Elder Dragon hidden as a human.
The dragon smiled, showing teeth far too sharp to be human.
"It seems that you remember me, still," he said.
Sal snorted amused.
"I helped you and your wife to have a child," he said amused. "That's not something you forget that fast, my friend."
The Elder Dragon smiled at that.
"A good thing it isn't or I might have waited here for nothing," Hohenheim replied.
Sal rolled his eyes.
"Sit," he said, gesturing to the chair in front of him. "And tell me why you wanted to meet me in the Leaky Cauldron today."
The dragon sighed and sat.
"It's complicated," he said. "And I don't know the full extent of it."
When Sal raised an eyebrow at that, he elaborated.
"Something's happening all over the country. Dark elements are flocking together, creating havoc wherever they go. There are attacks all over Europe. We're just happy that it hasn't spilled into the muggle world right now, but…" The dragon stopped, closed his eyes and sighed. "The German and Italian ruling families have vanished or died unexpectedly within the last months. There's uncertainty and fear all over the countries. Something's happening, Salvatio - and we don't know what."
Sal frowned at that.
"The ruling families of Germany and Italy died or disappeared?" He repeated concerned. "As in: Their first born, land-bound families?"
"Yes," Hohenheim replied sighing. "I'm talking about those families that were as bound to the land and its people as the Pendragon family has been for Britain. With them lost, there's no one who can unite the people, like there's no one who can do if for Britain. The magicals of Europe might have looked down on Britain for the loss of its ruling family, but now they're facing the same problems - and unlike Britain they aren't used to deal without their princes and kings."
Sal sighed and rolled his eyes at that.
"Like I told you before, Hohenheim, don't look down on us British. We still swear ourselves to our ruling family, if they're gone or not, it doesn't matter," he said.
Hohenheim pressed his lips together at that.
"It might not politically for day to day life," he said. "But without a king, you'll have quite a lot trouble to unite a wizarding nation. We don't feel compelled to follow if it isn't the ruling family ordering it, you know?"
"And yet, the ruling family can only use their power if people believe in their ability to do the right thing for their people," Sal said sighing. "A king without the trust of his people is no king at all. The moment he is trusted by them, on the other hand, he will be able to guide them far more effectively than any other ruling body."
The dragon raised his eyebrow at that.
"You sound as if you know what you're talking about," he said amused.
"I do," Sal replied. "I remember the power of the one king who was more trusted by the British wizards than any other king before. His rule is still a legend - a legend far more known than just to us British wizards."
Hohenheim inclined his head at that.
"You're right," he said. "Your King Arthur was exceptional. His death was the greatest tragedy in the whole history of magical Britain."
"And it seems that the same tragedy is now occurring all over Europe," Sal said darkly.
Hohenheim's eyes darkened at that as well.
"Let's hope it's not going that far," he said. "Losing two ruling families is more than enough tragedy already."
Sal inclined his head, but said nothing else to that. Instead he returned to the previous discussion.
"Why did you contact me, Hohenheim?" He asked.
The Elder Dragon sighed.
"My baby boy married a human," he said. "Now the descendants of this bonding are in trouble thanks to those happenings."
Sal frowned at the Elder Dragon.
"What do you mean 'in trouble'?" He asked a bit concerned. He might not have kept up with his godson's family, but that didn't mean that he would sit by and do nothing if they were in danger…
Hohenheim sighed.
"The Head of the Family and his wife, my baby boy's great-great-granddaughter vanished without a trace after visiting Family in Germany," he said unhappily. "Now their son is out and about, looking for them. I fear for him. I'm sure my great-great-great-granddaughter's disappearance has something to do with the death of those ruling families - and I can't sit by and watch my baby's babies being harmed. But I can't do a lot as well, since I'm not human and can't keep my human features for more than a few hours any more. I needed someone who looks human to look into all that - and you are the one I know and trust. You are the one who gave me my baby boy, so I trust you to take a look at the happenings that threaten my baby boy's babies. Will you?"
Sal sighed and closed his eyes.
He was one of the head healers of St. Mungo's. If he did that, he would have to shed his identity and create a new one, one that wasn't connected to anybody…
Sal closed his eyes.
He had been in Britain for quite some time now. Maybe it was time to wander again…
"What's their name?" He asked.
"Moody," Hohenheim replied. "The one I want you protect is named Moody, Allaric Moody."
And like a long forgotten memory, the vague image of a mangled old auror appeared in Sal's mind.
Moody - the wizard descendant of one of the Elder Dragons…
The descendant of Sal's godson - and the ancestor of one of Sal's former teachers…
"Alright," Sal said finally after a long bout of silence. "I'll take a look."
And with that promise he was sucked into a war that would last as long as two muggle world wars with just a short break in between. Grindelwald had started his way to power - and it would be Sal who would not only expose him but also match his doings step by step.
Of course, Sal had never planned to add other people to his fight against a man he had never planned to openly fight against.
25 th July 1913
To Sal's silent desperation, the first who actually joined him in fighting Grindelwald, was a boy he had known for the boy's whole life - one Garrick Ollivander.
"Garrick," Sal said with a sigh. "You just can't -"
"Father allowed it," the youth interrupted him. "Don't worry, Uncle. I'm only here to help you search for Allaric. I will return home the moment we find him."
"Garrick -"
"I know I'm not even seventeen yet, but it's not as if I propose to fight a dark lord," the young boy argued. "I just want to help you find my best friend!"
"You're not yet finished with Hogwarts," Sal countered.
"And you can teach me everything I need to know and even more," Garrick replied. "You and I know that my education won't be lacking even if I don't attend Hogwarts this year!"
And Sal couldn't argue with that at all…
Still, there was no way he would bring a minor somewhere were a war was starting to brew.
"Garrick," he repeated the name of his nephew. "You can't come. I'm not taking you somewhere where it's possibly dangerous for you!"
"But -"
"Even if it isn't a war - those criminals are dangerous and there's a huge chance that I will have to confront them in order to find Allaric," Sal pointed out. "There's no way that I will take a teenager with me when I have to confront murderers to find another teenager."
Garrick just looked at him stubbornly.
"I told my father what I'm planning and he allowed it," he said petulantly. "I'm not staying in Britain while Allaric is somewhere else in Europe and in danger."
The stubborn streak that Sal knew the Ollivander family was graced with, wouldn't allow the boy in front of him to beg down on this.
If Sal didn't accept Garrick Ollivander's company, the boy would find a way to search Allaric on his own - or to follow Sal without his knowledge. That was a given considering that the boy in front of him had Dewin ap Lleidr Ollivannder's blood in his veins - the one staffmaker who had wanted to leave Sal's father's house the day after his blood awakening to travel…
Sal pinched his nose and sighed.
It seemed like he would go to war with a teenager in tow…
"What did your father actually say when you told him you would join me?" he finally asked.
Garrick grinned.
" Promise me to come home before you go out and join a war, will you?" He repeated the words of his father smiling. "I promised him to, uncle."
In other words - at least the boy would be safe the moment Sal had found Allaric…
Sadly enough, in the end, Garrick's promise would just ensure that the boy would return home one last time before going to war…
" And Death spoke to them."
Sal pulled himself out of his musing about the missing teacher and instead let his gaze travel over the men and women surrounding him.
"This time," he said. "We won't attack on a small scale. This attack will be all or nothing."
The others nodded grimly.
"I've already organized those who will work on the wards," Sirius Black spoke up.
"The knights are as ready as I could make them," Theseus Scamander added.
"And the dragon division is ready to show its true colours," his brother Newt said as grimly as the rest of the men and not nervous at all. Not a lot of people would have recognized the serious man in the awkward one he normally presented to the world.
"The surprises are fully stocked and ready to be used," Mad Marius added. "I've even dreamed up some extra for a bigger surprise than normal."
His brother Pollux padded him on the back at that and grinned.
"Well done," he told Mad Marius. "Very well done, brother dearest. Now we just have to take those babies with us!"
Sal couldn't help but notice the camaraderie that filled the room in the last hours before the end - somehow, it reminded him of easier times, back then, when everything was just starting…
27 th November 1913
"Allaric Moody?" Sal asked, his gaze meeting the blue eyes of a tired looking wizard with sandy-brown hair.
"Who wants to know that?" The man asked, distrust in his face.
Sal scrutinized the other man.
He was thin and looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks - and his eyes, his eyes were dead, as if he had lost every purpose in his life…
"My name is Salvazsahar Malfoire," Sal said coolly. "I've been looking for you."
The answer was a bitter laugh.
"So you're one of those bastards who killed my parents," the man scoffed. "Here to finish the job with me?"
With that the other man glared at Sal.
Sal just returned the glare with one of his own before leaning forward into the other man's personal space.
"I'm not," he said coolly. "I'm actually here to drag you home - kicking and screaming if I must."
Allaric snorted and then spat at Sal.
His spit stopped just an inch in front of Sal as if hitting something solid.
The man's eyebrows rose, then he scoffed again.
"As if I'd belief some stranger," he said with loathing in his eyes.
Sal just returned the other man's hate filled stare evenly.
"I don't care what or what not you believe in," he replied, disinterested. "With the death of your parents, it's my duty to look after you, so looking after you I will!"
Allaric sneered.
"I'm seventeen," he said unimpressed. "I'm all grown up. Whatever you plan to do or not to do doesn't matter - you have no say over me!"
Sal just looked back as unimpressed as the boy.
"I don't care," he said. "You're ancestor wanted me to look after you in the capability of a godfather, so I will do just that!"
Allaric raised an eyebrow at that, this time confusion in his face.
"My ancestor?" He repeated.
Sal inclined his head and then grabbed the other man. When Allaric tried to free himself, Sal simply stunned him and then proceeded to remove him from the bar he had found the other man in.
It was clear, that Allaric had been well on the way to being drunk, not for the first time after finding out what happened with his parents - but now that Sal had found him, he would not stand by and watch a young boy like Allaric succumbing to his grief and drowning it in alcohol… especially not with the happenings and assassinations all over Europe!
So Sal took the boy with him.
He was in the middle of a clearing in a near-by forest when he finally released the stun.
The boy stumbled to his feet, drawing his wand at Sal with unsure hands.
But before he could even think up one spell, a voice spoke up from behind him.
"If you cast just a spark with that stick of yours I'll take you over my knee and ensure that you will never even think about doing something foolish like that ever again!" The voice said.
Allaric flinched and turned slowly to the voice behind him.
Sal on the other hand raised an eyebrow at Hohenheim.
"Grandfather," the boy breathed in that moment, disbelief colouring his voice. "I thought you were gone as well!"
The Elder Dragon sighed and shook his head.
"Not yet," he said and sounded as tired as Sal's grandmother all those years ago. "But I don't have long anymore. Maybe a month or two, then I won't be anymore."
The boy hastily wiped his eyes after hearing those words.
"Then why did you ask him to drag me here?" He asked while gesturing at Sal accusingly. "It's not as if you'll stay!"
Hohenheim's eyes narrowed.
"Because I won't sit by and watch how my baby boy's babies kill themselves through grief!" He replied harshly.
Allaric looked at his ancestor in defiance.
"It's my decision what to do with my life!" He hissed furiously. "And if I wish to pursue the murderers of my parents - so be it!"
Hohenheim just sighed.
"I won't stop you, Allaric," he said in the end. "But I don't want to watch you kill yourself by fighting against something you can't fight alone!"
Sal mentally groaned.
Yes, he had agreed to help Hohenheim - but did that truly mean he would have to fight another war so soon after the last?!
When he looked in the defiant eyes of the boy, he mentally banged his head against the wall.
Obviously, it did.
"So what?" Allaric asked sneering. "You'll use the last months you have to help me kill those monsters?"
Hohenheim shook his head.
"No," he said and then gestured to Sal. "But I convinced your godfather to do so."
Allaric turned and looked at Sal in surprise before looking back at Hohenheim.
"So he's truly my godfather?" he asked surprised. "That wasn't a lie?"
Sal wanted to object and correct the boy that he had been the godfather of the boy's ancestor, but Hohenheim beat him to it.
"It wasn't," Hohenheim said. "And don't mind how he looks - like me, he's quite a bit older than his apparent age implies."
Sal sighed and rubbed his forehead.
Allaric on the other hand stared at Sal with a frown on his face.
"You will help me?" he asked, clearly not believing it. "You won't stop me?"
For a moment, Sal wished that he could change the boy's mind, but from the boy's eyes and determination he already knew that there were just two ways of handling this situation right now: saying 'no' and losing the boy to either alcohol or revenge or saying 'yes' and going to war with the boy while maybe soothing his hurt and keeping him safe.
"Yes," Sal said, his gaze locked on the boy's. "I will help you."
Sal had no idea that this simple promise would soon change into more. Under his guidance, the Resistance, a counter group to Grindelwald's men would come into being. Under his guidance, Allaric and others would assemble, fight and win.
And under his guidance, Allaric would finally fall - not to the enemies, but to the ones who should have been on their side from the start.
Sal would never forgive the man who killed his 'godson'.
29th June 1914
"This is not good," Sal murmured while burying his head in his hands. "This is not good at all…"
The man in front of him nodded grimly.
"It isn't," he said unhappily. "I'm sorry that I basically came here with news as bad as those I brought."
Sal just shook his head.
"It's not your fault," he said tiredly. "And you're sure that it was those vigilances?"
The other man grimaced.
"One hundred percent, Godfather," he said unhappily while fingering the bandage Sal had wrapped around his left arm. "They noticed me even with me trying to hide within the crowd and… well, you see…"
He gestured towards the bandage before shaking his head in confusion.
"I've still no idea how they even recognized me as a wizard," he continued a bit baffled. "I mean - I didn't even have time to cast a shield or something like that! Before I knew it had already happened and then one of them looked at me and suddenly I was targeted as well…"
Sal grimaced at that revelation.
"The man must have been a Legilimens," he said and pinched his nose bridge. "You must have stood out to him in some way and he slipped into your mind and recognized you not only as a wizard but also as someone who understood that for all the muggle-like attack, magicals were involved."
Not for the first time, Sal cursed his more than shoddy history knowledge. He knew that before Voldemort, there had been another Dark Lord on the loose, but try as he might, he couldn't remember the name…
Cellar?
No.
Geyer?
No.
Greifer?
No.
But something with "G"… "Gr"…
Grendel?
That sounded somewhat familiar, but that didn't mean a lot, in the end.
Sal shook his head and concentrated on his godson in front of him.
"Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Charlus," he said sighing. "I will go and tell it those who're out there, trying to stop them."
Charlus Potter just raised an eyebrow at Sal.
"Father and I both know you're more than just a messenger to those people," he said grimly. "You might have been able to hide it from the rest of the world, but both, Father and I know you better than that."
Charlus eyes were firm.
"You were the healer apprentice when Eloise died," he said. "The one who took me aside and held me in my grief - we're not sure how you do it, how you can look so young when you're as old as my father, but we both know that there's no way that you're just a messenger. You coordinate those counter attacks - Father and I are both sure about that!"
Sal sighed and rubbed his face.
It figured that his current best friend and godson would be able to figure him out…
In the end, Sal decided to go with the truth - at least in that regard.
"You're right, Charlus," he said. "I'm the one coordinating the counter measures."
Charlus crooked his head.
"So how do you manage to look so young when you're actually as old as Father?" He asked with interest in his eyes. "From what I know the one countering the attacks looks to be barely twenty years of age…"
Sal sighed again but then grinned just tiredly at his godson before shaking his head.
"Family secret," he said. "I fear I won't be able to tell you, Charlus."
Charlus pouted, but nodded his understanding.
He had been raised a pureblood and knew that family magic was considered secret and wasn't told to people outside the family…
"So what? You changed your identity and took on the leadership of those opposing those villains?"
Sal inclined his head.
"Something like that," he said truthfully. "It was an old friend of mine who asked me to take a look and well… I just couldn't sit by and watch the moment I found out what was going on out there…"
Charlus nodded slowly.
"I… think I can understand you, Godfather," he said thoughtfully. "After the assassination of Crown Prince Franz Ferdinand I witnessed yesterday in Sarajevo by those magicals - even if it was blamed onto a muggle - I'm not sure if I can continue to stand by and watch…"
Sal frowned at the man in front of him.
"Your father is currently head of the Wizengamot," he said slowly. "It won't look good at all if his son and heir is in any way or form involved with the vigilant group who decided to fight against those criminals who started terrorizing Europe."
Charlus frowned at Sal.
"So you'd forbid me to join your group just because Father is currently actually active in the Wizengamot?"
Sal sighed.
"It will have dire repercussions for him if this comes out," Sal pointed out to the other man unhappily. "You are his heir, Charlus - considering that the Wizengamot decided to sit by and watch for now, it wouldn't be good at all if the son of one of its members goes out and fights."
Charlus' eyes narrowed, but his face turned thoughtful.
"You're right," he finally said. "It wouldn't be good if it came out…"
Then he looked at Sal in defiance.
"But who says it has to come out, Godfather?"
When Sal raised an eyebrow, Charlus returned his inquisitive face with a stare.
"You obviously know how to establish a new persona without anybody noticing," he said, still staring at Sal. "You could help me to establish a cousin or some such…"
Sal raised his eyebrow.
"Your father is an only child," he pointed out and Charlus shrugged.
"But Grandfather had a sister who went missing nine years before Father went to Hogwarts," he countered. "For all we know she could have had a child out of wedlock and said boy could have had a child of his own."
Sal raised an eyebrow at his godson.
"And what would be the name of this elusive cousin?" He asked amused.
Charlus shrugged.
"Charlus," he replied. "Charlus Potter."
When Sal's second eyebrow joined the first, Charlus shrugged and grimaced.
"For the most of wizarding Britain I'm still Fleamont," he pointed out unhappily. "It's only been my friends and you who actually call me Charlus all the time. Everybody else, even my parents use Fleamont more often or always."
"In other words you want to make the name legal that you've been using for years for yourself," Sal said amused.
Charlus just shrugged.
"Charlus is a typical Potter name," he replied. "Even people who know that I tried to call myself 'Charlus' in the past wouldn't look twice if my cousin actually had that name…"
"And your new identity's second name?" Sal asked in inquiry.
Charlus shrugged.
"I don't know - what's yours?" He looked at Sal and Sal grimaced.
"Amethyst," he replied a bit unhappily.
Charlus snorted.
"Well - I guess that's not a name I will take," he said amused and Sal rolled his eyes, but in the end decided to offer the one name he knew he had been given by his mother Lily…
"My third name is Harryjames," he said - not lying, if you looked at the name his father Myrddin had given him all those centuries ago.
Charlus raised an eyebrow in interest.
"Harryjames," he repeated. "That's not a name I've heard before."
Sal smirked.
"It's traditionally still used in one specific family," Sal replied with a shrug. "But it was once a very common wizarding name."
Charlus looked thoughtful at Sal, considering the name.
"Charlus Harryjames Potter," he said thoughtfully, before frowning at Sal. "Who else knows that 'Harryjames' is your third name?"
Sal just shook his head.
"Nobody alive," he assured the other man. "There's nobody who could connect the name with me."
Charlus smirked.
"So be it," he said. "Charlus Harryjames Potter, that will be me - now, Godfather, can you make it happen?"
Sal sighed but in the end inclined his head.
"As long as we will talk to your father beforehand and he gives the go-ahead, I can," he said. "It also should keep down the repercussions if it's known that you've not grown up with the Potters and that Fleamont Potter is still part of the Unspeakables."
Charlus nodded.
"I'll talk to Father," he promised.
Not even a month later, Charlus Harryjames Potter, second cousin of Fleamont Charlus Potter was 'born'. He would later die in 1977 from 'dragon pox' - two years before his cousin Fleamont died in 1979…
4 th August, 1914
"Garrick," Sal said blankly and stared at the boy who had entered the tent Sal was currently using as a headquarters for his newly started Resistance. "What are you doing here?"
Garrick Ollivander smiled at him winningly.
"I'm here to help," he said.
Sal narrowed his eyes at the boy.
"You're barely seventeen," he pointed out. "There's no way I will let you go to war at that age."
Garrick pouted.
"But you went as well when you were my age!" He argued.
Sal's eyes just narrowed further.
"So you think you have the right to do so as well?" He asked pointedly.
Garrick shrugged.
"I'm not leaving Allaric," he replied. "He's my best friend and I will stand by him - even if that means to go to war with him!"
"You told me that you would return to Britain the moment we found Allaric," Sal pointed out coolly.
"I did and I was," Garrick replied and waved it off. "Britain is boring. I prefer to stay here with you and Allaric, Uncle."
"And what did your father say when you told him that you would go off to war?" Sal asked with a raised eyebrow, sure that the older Ollivander wouldn't have been happy hearing of his son's plans - if he had even heard about them until now!
Garrick straightened and before repeating his father's words verbally.
" Alright," he said, mimicking his father's tone and voice. "But no dying - or you will have to face great-grandfather's wrath, do you understand me?"
Sal stared at the insane boy in front of him for a second or longer.
Then he groaned.
Only an Ollivander could think words like that were the appropriate reply when it came to their son going off to war.
"Lovely," he said sarcastically, already resigned to an insane Ollivander joining his ranks. "Just lovely. Exactly what you want a father to say to their barely legal son when said son decides to go to war…"
Garrick grinned.
"I thought the said," he exclaimed happily. "So of course I promised to head his demands!"
Sal resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands at that.
"Garrick," he said slowly. "That all doesn't truly explain why you're here now! You shouldn't even know about the Resistance!"
The younger man shrugged.
"Father told me you're up and about wreaking havoc again, Uncle," he answered and waved it off. "Father's preoccupied now with the shop - unlike the last time you fought against that dark wizard Morgan and he stood by your side in Hogwarts."
Sal frowned at the boy.
"Your father is a grown man, Garrick," he pointed out, before repeating pointedly. "You're barely seventeen."
The boy looked unbothered by that.
"It's not as if Allaric is that much older than me," he pointed out reasonably. "And yet, he's still here."
Sal sighed.
"Allaric lost his parents to those criminals," he said. "He wouldn't sit by and do nothing even if I asked him to."
Garrick just looked at him disinterestedly.
"Father allowed me to go and fight," the boy pointed out. "He said that our family has an alliance with you - and if would be a shame if no Ollivander would partake in the fight you're fighting right now. Grandfather helped you in the alley. Father helped you in Hogwarts - not it is I who'll help you with those criminals!"
"This is a lot more dangerous than what your father and grandfather did for me," Sal pointed out and Garrick shrugged.
"So be it," he said stubbornly. "What can I do?"
Sal sighed, but before he could argue further, somebody else spoke up.
"You can help me with the creation of some of our new wards for our hide-out," Charlus Potter said. "And then you can help Allaric to find our enemies and to plan out our attack. Allaric said you've got a very good mind for strategic thinking, so I'm quite sure you'll be able to help him with that."
Sal turned and stared at his godson.
"Charlus," he said in warning, but the other man just shrugged.
"He's seventeen," he said. "And his father actually allowed him to be here - so why do you want to send him away? It's not as if he has to stay if he finds out he can't bear it!"
Sal sighed, but guessed that Charlus had a point.
"Alright," he said. "But I insist on an oath - do you understand, Garrick Ollivander?"
The boy nodded earnestly.
"I thought as much already," he said, determination on his face. "Don't worry, uncle. I won't disappoint you."
Sal just sighed.
"I never thought you would," he said while shaking his head slowly. "I never thought you would…"
Then he shook his head again, this time in contemplation.
"I still can't understand why you decided to return," Sal sighed.
Garrick grinned.
"That's easy, Uncle," he said reasonably. "Your cooking is better than father's."
Sal resisted the urge to bury his head into his hands and instead pointed at the door.
"Leave and bother Allaric," he told the boy. "I need a few minutes to contemplate where your lineage took a turn to insanity."
Garrick blinked a bit confused, but shrugged, lazily saluted and then heeded out to do as Sal had told him.
Sal meanwhile closed his eyes and started to wonder when children would stop to stop-by and stay to fight a war Sal couldn't remember them fighting from what he had learned in History of Magic…
If Sal didn't know better, he would have contemplated that he changed the time - but he was old enough to understand that it didn't matter what he did, the time in the future was already influenced by his current decision so in the end every decision he would make would have impacted the past of his future already…
"This is insane," Sal said to himself.
Sadly, over time it would just get even more insane instead of better…
From then on, Allaric and Ollivander would always be those who planned the attacks of Sal's counter-action-group.
" So Death crossed to an Elder Tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.
And so Death took the first brother for his own."
"I have some concern about the political side of this operation," Pollux Black spoke up in that moment. "If it ever comes out who was working on the downfall of Grindelwald… well, let's say it won't be pretty."
The others in the room exchanged a glance, but most of the Blacks, the Scamanders and Charlus Potter nodded gravely.
"The world can't know that we worked together," Charlus said darkly. "I may have developed another identity, far more removed from the Potter inheritance line than I am - but if my involvement becomes even more public the secret of my second identity won't hold and there will be repercussions I fear I won't be able to deal with."
Lord Sirius Black sighed but nodded.
"Our family is known as dark," he said and pinched his nose. "People will ask why we helped to overthrow Grindelwald - and we can't tell them the reason."
Marius shrugged.
"Maah," he said. "I'd show 'em not to mess with me. You don't have to defend your helpless squib relative!"
The answer was a snort from most at the table.
"I believe they fear more for the wizarding world of Britain than for you," Theseus Scamander pointed out amused.
Newt nodded.
"I'm pretty sure that letting you loose on them counts as genocide," he agreed with his brother.
Marius raised an eyebrow at him and Newt shrugged.
"Not one of us has ever forgotten where you come from," he told Marius matter-of-factly. "Your relations are already insane - you on the other hand don't have any magic to counterbalance for your insanity. Just considering your toys shows that letting you loose anywhere will ensure that we bite of more than we can chew."
"There's also to consider that Garrick can't be known as a fighter because wandmaker don't fight," Sirius Black changed the topic instead of trying to defend his nephew. "The Delacours are far too involved with Britain politically so they can't be seen opposing them, the Black - well, obvious considering our inclination and the fact that we theoretically should be on Grindelwald's side but aren't and the Potters - well, it wouldn't be good if people would find out about Charlus' double life…"
"In other words," Cygnus added darkly. "We're as fucked politically as we have been right from the start of this war…"
6 th August 1914
"Oyez, oyez! This is the August meeting of this august body!" The Supreme Mugwump of the Wizengamot called out.
The chamber quietened until all of the members were looking at the Supreme Mugwump.
"I called you here together to talk about the criminals who are currently operating in Europe and the war they started," the Supreme Mugwump, one Henry Potter, said darkly. "The muggles are at war. Two days ago, Muggle Britain declared war on Muggle Germany - now it's on us to decide how we will act towards the threat of the muggle war and the wizards who started it!"
"This sounds as if you're proposing to join those vigilances who are fighting against these criminals, Mr Potter," Albus Dumbledore spoke up with a frown. "Considering that neither the vigilances nor the criminals have had their eyes on Britain right now, are you certain you want to draw us into a conflict we have no reason to join?"
Henry frowned at the younger man at that.
Albus Dumbledore had the unbecoming habit of leaving off the titles of other persons - and most let him be, considering that he was seen as the second coming of Merlin since his record breaking OWLs and NEWTs scores…
"I heard that someone of your family is already fighting with those vigilantes, Lord Potter," Lord Avery said with a frown. "Are you proposing a change of our neutrality because someone of your family is already out there and doing who knows what?"
Henry sighed.
"My great-nephew has neither asked nor told me that he's fighting with these vigilantes," he replied. "I actually didn't even know I had a great-nephew until hearing his name in connection to those people just a few short months ago."
This earned him a few raised eyebrows.
"I beg your pardon, Supreme Mugwump," one of the other Lords said frowning. "But this sounded just now as if you had no idea that you had other family members outside of Britain…"
"I didn't," Henry confirmed, lying through his teeth and at the same time not lying at all, considering that until his son created 'Charlus' he actually had had no idea that there was a 'great-nephew'. "My aunt went missing two years after I was born. I had no idea that she was still alive when I went to Hogwarts - and even less of an idea that she bore a child out of wedlock."
Other Lords looked at him in pity at that, and Henry couldn't decide if those looks were because his aunt had a child out of wedlock or because he hadn't known that his aunt had birthed a child - not that she actually had, as far as he knew, but that was the story they went by…
"And you don't want to organize us into going to war just so that you can meet and maybe rescue this unknown relative, Mr Potter?" Albus Dumbledore asked patronizingly.
Henry frowned at the man.
"I never said anything about us going to war," he pointed out. "I asked for your opinion how we should react to the threat that Europe has to fight with now - nothing more, nothing less."
Albus Dumbledore inclined his head.
"In this case, I apologize, Mr Potter," he said. "And let me propose that we do nothing about it. We're not involved - we shouldn't try to gain the attention of those criminals by trying to involve ourselves."
"Seconded!" One of the other Lords proclaimed.
In the end, Henry Potter had to watch in dismay while the Wizengamot voted to sit by and do nothing - not caring that the threat was real and would knock on their borders sooner than later if someone didn't step up and fight.
The rest of Europe was at war - no matter what Albus Dumbledore said - this wouldn't go away if you closed your eyes and pretended it didn't happen!
It was after the session and Henry was packing away his papers with a tired and unhappy sighed, when he was approached by a party he hadn't even thought about when talking to the Wizengamot.
"Lord Potter," the man said and Henry looked up into the stormy grey eyes of the other lord.
He inclined his head in greeting.
"Lord Black," he greeted the man. "What can I do for you?"
The other man looked at him, without any emotion on his face.
"This war," he said solemnly. "This fight between those criminals and the resistance - you fear it will spill all over Europe soon."
Henry sighed and closed his eyes.
He knew that the Blacks were known for their liberal use of the Dark Arts and he wondered how long to would take until they joined those criminals who killed muggles and muggle-borns alike, proclaiming their superiority to them and their rights to use magic in any way they saw fit.
"It already has," Henry said anyway, not bothering to lie. "It might not have spilled in the open right now, but it is a war - and it already has spilled all over Europe, if we acknowledge it or not."
The other lord inclined his head thoughtfully.
"I heard they proclaim the open use of all kinds of magic," Lord Black said impassively.
"They do," Henry replied tiredly.
"I heard they spoke of no restrictions, of no Statute, of no mud-… muggle-borns or half-bloods in our society," the other lord said.
Henry sighed.
"They might have," he said. "I haven't heard that yet, but for all I know it would fit their goals."
Lord Black frowned.
"Lord Avery and some others are in support of those criminals," he told Henry as if he was talking about the weather. "They and some others were approached by them in the name of 'Grindelwald' to follow their lead into a new world."
Henry raised an eyebrow.
"Grindelwald?" He repeated. It was the first time he actually heard that name - something he would have to tell his son and his best friend the moment he managed to leave the Lord Black without making it obvious that he was actually against the ideas of the one man the Blacks might be supporting…
Henry was just too aware that the Black were a dark family, ore likely drawn in by promises like those instead of repulsed like Henry had been…
"That's the name that was given to me when my family was approached," the Lord Black replied before his impassive face darkened. "They also talked about the impureness that are squibs and their permanent removal from our family line."
Henry felt sick at that thought, not even having to wonder what was implied in that sentence. This 'Grindelwald' obviously didn't just proclaim the purge of everything muggle - but also the killing of squibs.
He didn't even have to ask if the Blacks were all for it. They were a dark family, so of course they were…
The Lord Black stared at Henry, his grey eyes icy and cold.
"I want to know where I can send my sons to fight against those criminals," he said coolly.
For a moment, Henry had to fight hard not to gawk at the other man.
Phineas Nigellus Black, Lord Black and current Headmaster of Hogwarts just sneered at Henry Potter.
"You didn't expect me to follow their disgusting beliefs, did you, Lord Potter?" He asked sneering.
Henry just raised an eyebrow at the other man.
"Considering your heavy-handedness as a Headmaster, I wouldn't have been surprised if you decided to follow these criminals into a war," he countered coolly.
Phineas Nigellus raised an eyebrow at him, but in the end inclined his head, slowly.
"I guess you might have a point, Lord Potter," he said slowly. "But then, you know nothing of my childhood."
Henry frowned at the other lord.
"Only the bare bones that everybody knows," he said. "You were raised as the heir of Black, the only son of your father."
At that, Phineas Nigellus eyes darkened.
"I wasn't his only son," he said. "At least not until I was six years old."
Henry raised an eyebrow at the other man and Phineas Nigellus pinned him with his stare.
"My father, may he suffer in hell, killed my older brother when he didn't show any signs of magic," Phineas Nigellus scoffed. "My older brother was brilliant. He was eight years old and spoke four languages fluently, could talk anybody around to his point of view and was the most gifted person in brewing potions - those without active magic use for him - in centuries in the Black family - the last being my many-times great-aunt Andromeda Malfoire! He would have been a rising star! A gift to this world - and my bastard of a father went and killed him because my brother didn't have magic!"
Henry felt sickened at that thought and Phineas Nigellus Black shook his head as if removing those memories from his thoughts.
"I was the one who found my brother after he had been murdered by my father," Phineas Nigellus said bitterly. "No! Criminals that condone - that actually propose something like that! - should be taken down, not supported!"
Henry, oddly enough couldn't even object to that position of the other man. Normally, he was always at odds with the head of house Black - to find out that they were suddenly on the same side was somehow… odd.
"Now, Lord Potter," Phineas Nigellus Black said, his eyes cornering Henry. "How do I contact the resistance?"
And Henry couldn't help but comply with the other man's wishes.
Barely two years later, Marius Black would be born - and while he was later blasted from the family tree by his own niece, his father, uncles and grandfather did everything in their power to give him a life he would love living.
1934 Marius Black would join the resistance. Barely a month later, every man in Grindelwald's army would quiver when just hearing the words 'Mad Marius' being uttered - because unlike Sirius Black, Phineas Nigellus older brother, Mad Marius had been allowed to live…
August - September 1914
Sirius Black, the Heir of Black and Phineas Nigellus oldest son, stepped inside the tent they currently used as something akin to headquarters.
Inside, surrounding a table, were two of the men he was looking for.
"Ollivander," he said to one of them. The man in question was Garvain Ollivander's barely twenty-year-old grandson, Garrick Ollivander. "Moody," he said to the other. The man would one day father one Alastor Moody.
Both of them looked up from their planning.
"Black," they greeted the other man and Sirius Black frowned when he noticed the lack of one person he had been looking for.
"Where's Sal?" He asked.
The other two exchanged a look and then shrugged.
"He said something about being contacted by one Theseus Scamander," Allaric Moody said slowly while frowning before looking at Garrick Ollivander.
Said Ollivander just shrugged.
"I thought we needed some more people if we could get them," he said unapologetic. "I told Theseus about the whole mess - we are quite good friends, you know? We were at Hogwarts together, after all, and he decided that it might be a good idea to come by and find out what we're actually doing."
Sirius Black frowned at that.
"Isn't Theseus and his more than perfect looks, combined with the fact that he's an international quidditch player… well, a bit too famous for us?" He asked concern in his eyes. "We're trying to operate in secret, after all…"
"But we need an official face or two," Ollivander countered. "And Theseus with his good press and his ability to charm the press is the best thing we could get for that!"
Sirius Black couldn't object that argument.
They needed help - and working totally in secret didn't help if you tried to reach people… so maybe, Ollivander was right and Theseus Scamander could be a good thing for them.
"Alright," he finally settled on and sighed. "I guess my question has to wait then…"
Allaric Moody frowned at the other man before gesturing at him to join them at the table.
"What question?" He asked.
Sirius shrugged.
"I wanted to know if he knew somebody who knew something about warding," Sirius replied and rubbed his face. "I could asked everybody - but it's impractical to run around and do so when Sal knows the answer anyway…"
Now Garrick Ollivander and Allaric Moody exchanged a confused glance with each other.
"I thought you were a ward-master, Black," Allaric said with a frown. "Why do you need somebody else who knows about wards?"
Sirius sighed and waved it off.
"Because it's easier to work in tandem when you aren't the caster of the wards you try to break in," he said. "One to dispel the wards and one to give him strength. The one giving the strength would bear the brunt of a back-lash, if there is one, so the more experienced ward-master should do it. Normally, I work in tandem with my brother Cygnus - but Cyg is home for the birth of his baby girl Cassiopaia…"
Then he rolled his eyes fondly at his absent brother.
"And how I know him he will use the time at home to ensure that the next baby will be on the way before he leaves again," he said half-amused, half-exasperated.
Allaric and Garrick snorted in amusement.
"He can't be that bad," Allaric said.
Sirius' lips twitched.
"No," he said. "He's not that bad…"
Nine months later one Marius Black would be born.
"But that doesn't change the fact that he isn't here right now and I need someone who has the finess to dispel wards or someone who can give me the strength so that I can do the dispelling…" Sirius added sighing.
Allaric frowned.
"Why do you need someone who can work with you on wards so badly?" He asked interested.
Sirius' face turned mischievous.
"Because I found out where one of Grendel… Grindel - whatever's hideouts are," he said. "I basically stumbled upon it when I was out on recon tonight. I'm not sure how long it will stay where it is, because it's clearly temporary, so we have to strike now!"
The others exchanged a glance.
"And what exactly did you plan to do after taking down the wards?" Allaric asked.
Sirius shrugged.
"I planned to wreak some havoc," he said unrepentant. "I just need another ward-master and a small team to infiltrate the camp so that we can hinder the man inside or even ensure that they won't go back to Grindel-thingy ever again!"
Allaric and Garrick Ollivander exchanged a look at that.
"A team?" They asked interested.
Sirius Black shrugged.
"Well, it's not as if I can do both: take down the wards and attack - so I need at least a few people to work with me…" He replied.
Allaric looked at Ollivander.
Ollivander frowned.
"I believe," he said slowly. "That we might be able to convince Charlus…"
"Potter?" Sirius Black said, sounding quite unhappily. "Why do you want to add Potter anywhere near my team? We don't get along - and you well know it!"
Allaric shrugged.
"But he knows about wards," he argued. "He was an Unspeakable before joining the war, you know?"
" Potter? !" Sirius Black repeated unhappily.
Allaric and Garrick Ollivander exchanged another look and then shrugged simultaneously.
"I'm quite sure that he would be Sal's choice as well," Allaric dared to say. "He's the ward expert who drew up the wards surrounding our own camp, after all."
"Wait!" Sirius said, his voice filled with dread. "You want to tell me that my brother and I cast wards written by a Potter ?! And nobody told us?!"
"I'm quite sure, the others had a reason for not telling you," Ollivander said comfortingly. "Even if the reason might just have been the peace of the camp…"
Sirius Black groaned and buried his head in his hands.
"Alright," he finally said, his voice muffled by his fingers and not lifting his head from where it rested. "Alright. I'll do it! Call him here. Let's work with a Potter on those wards!"
August - September 1914
Never, in his whole life had Sirius Black seen wards being dismantled with such a beauty and unity. The whole operation went even more smoothly than he was used to with his own brother.
The moment the wards fell, the attack started.
Barely half an hour later, one of Grindelwald's camps was eradicated and his men either dead, scattered or imprisoned.
There was cheering all around them - with one exception.
On a hill, a bit further away from the camp stood some figures, staring down at the ashes of the tents of Grindelwald's men in dismay.
Their face was an expression of horror and utter sorrow and if the rest of the Resistance wouldn't have known them, they might have mistaken them for enemy soldiers who grieved for the camp.
But since the men were quite well known they were left alone in the hope that they would manage to set their world to right again without anybody else having to interfere…
Still - just to be sure, Garrick Ollivander had positioned himself near enough to the men to either catch them if one of them fainted from shock or stop them from killing each other.
Thankfully, both men didn't seem to plan anything like that at all right now. Instead they watched the tents burn with an intense look of grief in their eyes.
"You know," Charlus Potter said slowly while watching the world burn. "This might make us look as if we are a tad insane…"
Sirius Black frowned and looked at the chaos surrounding them as well.
"You… might be right there, Potter," he said slowly and unwillingly.
Ollivander next to them snorted in amusement.
"Oh, c'mon, you two!" He exclaimed. "Don't look like your cat just died! You should be happy!"
Charlus and Sirius Black stared at Ollivander with a look that clearly showed what they thought of that suggestion.
"Happy?" Charlus Potter repeated incredulous. "Happy?!"
Sirius Black looked at Ollivander in disgust.
"I doubt I'd ever feel happy again after what just happened!"
In that moment Allaric Moody left the burning camp in front of them to join them on the hills.
"Why all those long faces?" He asked a bit confused.
Ollivander snickered like a school girl and pointed at the unhappy looking men next to them.
"They're… unsatisfied… with the result," he told one of his best friends.
Allaric raised an eyebrow.
"Why?" He asked confused. "The camp is eradicated. The wards are in shambles. The enemy has lost some valuable intelligence and men today - and we managed all this with just four people!"
Charlus Potter and Sirius Black both stared unhappily at Allaric Moody while Ollivander had to hide another snicker with both of his hands.
"Exactly," Ollivander chocked out amused. "That's exactly the problem they're having right now!"
Allaric Moody frowned and then looked back at the destroyed hide-out of the enemy.
"I don't understand," he said confused. "It worked! Isn't that the most important thing?"
Charlus and Sirius grimaced while avoiding to look at each other.
"That it did," Ollivander pressed out while trying not to give into his laughing fit. "That it did!"
And when the faces of the other two men darkened, he added, nearly suffocating on his laughter.
"They didn't want it to work," he chocked out. "Because if it worked, that means that they could work together as ward-breakers - and they don't want to admit that they're compatible! They're a Potter and a Black! They're always on the opposite in a conflict! It's bad enough that they're on the same side - but working together as well?"
Ollivander snickered again - at least until he was elbowed into both of his sides at the same time.
He looked up and saw the Black-Heir and the Potter-Heir both glaring at him.
Ollivander raised his hands in defeat.
"It's not my fault!" He defended himself. "I just suggested another ward-master for Black! I had actually no idea that you two would actually work exceptionally good with each other!"
Sirius pouted and Charlus buried his head in his hands.
"This will be a catastrophe," he mumbled into his hands. "A total catastrophe! The Lords of the Wizengamot will die in masses from a heart-attack if this ever comes out!"
Ollivander snickered while Allaric hid a grin.
"Don't worry!" Allaric finally snorted. "We won't say a thing! We're taking it to our graves, I promise!"
Ollivander chocked on another laughter.
"I won't!" He forced out. "I won't! It's far too funny to tell and watch the world burn after!"
He was elbowed and glared at again from both sides again.
"Look at you two!" He snickered. "Not only one brain on the battlefield - but off it as well! Next thing we know, your children will be best friends forever more!"
"Only over my dead body!" Both Heirs exclaimed at the same time. "And we're nothing alike, Ollivander - so shut up!"
Their chorus just made Ollivander laugh even harder.
The two grown men pouted, looked at each other, grimaced and looked away again.
"They're going to think we've gone insane!" Charlus moaned.
"Don't remind me!" Sirius replied. "I'm still working out how to oblivate myself of those last four hours of my life!"
And while Allaric watched with a raised eyebrow, Garrick Ollivander toppled over in laughter.
It wouldn't take long after this first mission, until Charlus Potter and Sirius Black were a known warder team who actually insisted on working together…
August - September 1914
The entrance of Theseus Scamander into the resistance was something noteworthy in the eyes of Sirius Black and Charlus Potter.
"So… this is Theseus Scamander," Sirius Phineas Black said while watching the other man walk by with a frown. "I'm not sure if I should be impressed by his guts to come here or feel offended that he's used as the face of our Resistance."
Charlus Potter next to him rolled his eyes.
"Stop being so melodramatic, Black," he said half-amused, half-exasperated. "It's not as if either of us could be used as the 'face' of our organisation as you put it."
The man was charming, always smiling… and one of the meanest interrogation experts that the Resistance would ever have.
"Now, my dear," Theseus said and leaned back against the wall as if he had every time in the world. "Don't you think that it's time to talk to papa?"
The man on the other side of the room, not bound by anything and yet unable to move anyway, grinded his teeth at Theseus.
"You won't break me," he told the other man icily. "You might be a good fighter - but you're not scary enough to get me to talk! And as you've noticed - my master ensured that we're immune to any kind of truth serum!"
"Oh," Theseus said amiably. "We noticed. That's the reason why I decided to talk to you."
His smile broadened.
"Don't worry, just talk, papa will listen."
The other man looked at Theseus in disgust.
"You're insane," he declared finally. "Absolutely insane if you believe that I will tell you anything!"
Theses smile broadened.
"I sure as am are insane," he agreed and looked at his finger nails. "But then, I guessed you figured that already when I talked to you on the battle field. There aren't a lot of stronger indicators than that when it comes to the proof my state of mind, after all…"
" Wow! Careful with that stick! You could hurt someone if you swish it around like that!"
The answer were even more spells thrown at him by his enemies.
" Oh, c'mon!" He cried. "Can't we talk it out like normal people?!"
" You're an idiot if you think I would talk to someone like you!" One of his enemies replied disgusted.
" Oh, please, man - make peace, not war! We don't have to fight -"
Before he could end his sentence, he had to jump from one foot to the other to escape some vicious Unforgivables fired at him by some of the others.
" One against twenty - that's not fair!" He complained. "Can't you do the honourable thing and come at me all at once?"
That ensured him some disbelieving looks from the men he was fighting.
" You," one of his enemies said with an eye-roll before firing another spell at him. "Have an odd idea what it means to do the honourable thing."
Theseus shrugged and dodged another volley of spells.
" What can I say?" He said. "I'm an odd person."
The man on the chair scoffed.
"Yeah," he said. "That one time indicated your state of mind quite well, nutter!"
Theseus's smile broadened and then his eyes began to glow.
"Yes," he said. "I am a nutter. But you have forgotten one thing when it comes to me being a nutter. Do you know what it is?"
The man frowned and then shook his head slowly.
Theseus smile broadened.
"As a nutter I won't stop from anything to gain the information I want," he pointed out with an evil grin. With that, he removed a teddy bear out of his pocket and removed himself from the wall.
"Now, my dear fellow," he said with a malevolent glint in his eyes. "Let's talk to papa…"
Barley five minutes later the man in the chair broke and spilled everything - from Grindelwald's most secret plans he knew about 'till his theft of a chewing gum when he was in kindergarden…
Yes, as odd and as lovingly Theseus was, he definitely was the most dangerous interrogator within the Resistance - dangerous enough that Grindelwald would do just anything to get that man to stop participating in the war.
Sadly enough for Grindelwald his tries just resulted into even more dangerous ideas from 'papa'…
1 st September 1914
"You know, Sal - we might need to organize our group a bit better."
Sal looked up from the plans he had been working on into Theseus Scamander's face. The man had joined them nearly a month ago and had integrated himself into the group as if he had always belonged there.
"How exactly do you want to organize them?" Sal asked with a frown. "They are already organized -"
"They're not," Theseus said with a sigh. "We need a bit clearer division in the field. It's not good if everybody is oblivating muggles and nobody has our backs anymore or if everybody is fighting and nobody shielding the ones we defend…"
Sal couldn't actually object to that.
"So - what do you propose?" He asked.
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