"Mr Scamander, do you know anything about the wizarding community in America? We don't like things loose."
Sal and his people were standing in the shadow of one of the best viewing points in Nuremberg - on the wall of the Imperial Castle, looking down at the city while staying in the shadow of the castle itself.
"Nürnberg," Newt said and looked at the city in awe, using the German version of its name - a version he was a lot more used to than the English one considering that he had lived as a German wizard for quite some time before he was found out a spy.
He stepped closer to the edge of the wall and looked down on the maze of tiny streets. The six narrow houses that stretched themselves over half of their view of the city were old and half-timbered buildings in different kind of colours. Behind them, they could see the historic centre of the town.
"We should have guessed that Grindelwald would have found a way to have his prison and his headquarters here," Theseus Scamander said. "He was obsessed with this city even the first time he tried to gain power over Europe."
Newt inclined his head.
"He was," he agreed and looked down on the streets by leaning himself over the wall. "But until now, there was no evidence that he had managed to find a place anywhere near here."
Sal sighed and looked around as well.
Nuremberg.
He had been here before.
He knew the maze of the tiny streets of the old town like the back of his own hand - he had lived here for a while, after all… even if it had been centuries since then and the city had changed a bit, a lot of things had still stayed the same. There was still St. Laurenz, the church with its two towers nearly hidden behind the half-timbered house on the outer right side of the six houses - a church which had been still worked on the last time he had seen it. There were other houses just as old or at least on the same places like the last ones Sal had known.
And yet, Nuremberg had changed as well. It had grown, it had been modernized and it had turned into the home of the most dangerous wizard in the whole of Europe.
"How far away are we from his new headquarters?" Sirius Black asked while following with his gaze Newt's own which had settled on the people in the streets.
"'Bout an hour and a half," Newt answered and followed with his gaze a young boy running down the street. Considering that there was a war all around them, this day was surprisingly calm.
"From here where to?" Pollux asked and leaned onto the wall to follow Newt's gaze with his eyes as well.
"To the East," Newt answered and pointed towards his left side, his body facing the city. "A bit more to the North as well, but not that much."
Pollux nodded thoughtfully.
"And the wards?" He asked.
Newt waved it off.
"Impressive, but not that far from the building as well," he said. "The muggles know the place as a small moated castle called Oberbürg. They have no idea that in the middle of the castle courtyard there's another, hidden inner bailey - the bailey of Nurmengard."
"Nurmengard," Sal repeated and closed his eyes. "Grindelwald's headquarter and prison."
"Yes," Newt agreed before sighing. "I guess you want me to lead you through Nürnberg's streets to Oberbürg now?"
"If you please," Allaric agreed, his eyes alight with unholy light. "I think it should be late enough that we will reach it when the night descends right now."
Newt pouted but in the end nodded.
"Alright," he agreed. "Follow me!"
And with that he turned away from the wall and instead left the Imperial Castle through its winding entrance back to the streets.
They would go by foot - because unlike magical transportation, Grindelwald hadn't accounted someone nearing his headquarters by foot who wasn't an ignorant muggle…
But then, Grindelwald had always underestimated Sal or his men even in the past…
1926
The return to war started with an innocent letter, send by an old friend from New York. It was plain, and relatively simple in writing - but the context made more than up for the missing flowery speech the rest of the wizarding world favoured.
It didn't even have a half way respectful beginning. "Sal" was the word it started with - and as plain as that it continued.
Sal,
I've been in New York this year and I've some distressing news for you. I stumbled upon Grindelwald here, hiding in the American Ministry of Magic itself. With my help, he was taken to prison, but he escaped again. Keep an eye open, if you please. He might return to Europe.
Newt
PS. I will miss our lover's spats.
A simple letter, yet, such a grievious content.
It looked like it was time to rise the Knights again…
"What're ye looking at, lad?"
Sal looked up from the letter clutched in his hands and into a pair of big, blue eyes, hidden behind thick glasses.
"A letter from a friend," Sal answered the man with a sigh and his gaze automatically returned to the words written on the parchment. "There's trouble."
The man frowned.
"What kinda trouble?" He asked Sal.
Sal just sighed deeply again.
"The wrong kind of trouble," he answered. "The absolutely wrong kind…"
For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on the letter in front of him, then he looked up at the huge eyes of the man - made huge by the glasses - and went into more detail than before.
"Grindelwald might come back," he said. "There're people to contact, safe houses to organize, countries to warn…"
He shook his head.
"It will be bloody difficult to reach all those who need to know in time and it will be even more difficult to find people who will believe me that he's coming back and that they'll have to fight to survive," he told the other man without sugar coating it at all. "Sadly, a lot of those people will be more inclined to stick their heads in the sand instead of interested in preparing for the worst possibility."
The other man frowned.
"So what?" He asked. "Ye need a transport?"
Sal snorted.
"It's not that I'm unable to apparate myself," he pointed out. "It's more like that I'll be tired out before even reaching half of the people I need to contact and that contacting them by owl post might take too long. The letter is more than a few weeks old. For all I know, Grindelwald is already back in Europe, strengthening his army."
"Tha's indeed a problem," the other man said and then held out a hand to Sal. "I might be not really useful meself, considerin' tha' I'm not really tha' strong o' a wizard - but at leas' transport, tha' can I do."
Sal stared at the man next to him on the bar stool in befundlement.
"You have nothing to do with the war," he said confused.
"Naw," the other man said. "Bu' I lived in Switzerland at the time o' the last. Unlike my other fellows here, I remem'er the Resistance."
At that, Sal looked at the other man sharply.
The man shrugged.
"Heinrich Eberstadt was a dunderhead," he said. "I'm all for helpin' ye guys out this time around."
With that, he shook his hand, clearly wishing Sal to take it.
Sal just hesitated a second, then he clasped it.
The man grinned, revealing crooked and yellow teeth.
"I'm Ernest Prang," the man told him. "Bu' most people jus' call me 'Crazy Ernie'."
Sal raised an eyebrow at that.
"Crazy?" He repeated in disbelief and the other man's grin broadened.
"Crazy," he replied, not elaborating further.
Sal shook his head, but shook the other man's hand nevertheless.
"Nice to meet you, Ernie," he said. "I'm Salvazsahar Malfoire, but most people call me Sal."
"Ah!" The man exclaimed. "Sal Sanctuary himself! A pleasure ta meet ya, Herr Sanctuary!"
Sal roled his eyes at the man.
It seems as if he always managed to pick up the weird ones…
Unfortunatelly that thought would only be further enforced when Sal had his first ride with Ernie Pang's car service.
Ernie had one of the most modern cars in all of Britain right now - and of course, he had decided to modify it to his needs. Sadly, what he saw as his needs, others saw as an accident waiting to happen - at least after they were subjected to Ernie's driving for the first time. Of course, considering that the car only had a textile roof and no windows… well, it might be easier to understand if Sal would be able to find another comparision but the one he had thought of even after two thousand years between his last ride before Crazy Ernie.
Even after two thousand years, there was just one comparition that fit that ride.
"Knight bus," Sal thought while leaving the car on unsteady feet. "That ride felt like the one I had with the Knight bus back then."
In the following years, Sal's men would feel at the same time thankful as apprehensive every time they needed the services of Crazy Ernie while too wounded or too tired to leave the battlefield without his help.
As for Grindelwald - it would take another four years until he finally started to surface again. By then, Sal would have contacted everybody and ensured that safe houses and other necessities were taken care off. And while some people claimed that he was delusional after not hearing from Grindelwald for month that turned into years, the Blacks under their new head Sirius Black as well as the Scamaders, the Ollivanders, the Potters, Allaric Moody and some others never doubted him. Just like Ernie Pang.
1930
The first traces of Grindelwald after his long absence, were some rumours. It wasn't enough that most politicians wanted to listen to Sal, but it was enough for his old group to gather with concern edged into their faces.
They met inside one of the safe houses Sal had organized. It was plain and in the middle of the country side of southern France. The room they met in was made of wood - wooden floors, wooden ceiling, wooden walls and only lit by the light of a few candles. It had no windows - not that it would have mattered much, considering that it was night outside and therefore dark there as well.
When Sal entered the room, it was crowded by conjured chairs and grave faces.
Sal looked around the room, his eyes going from one face to the next.
"There've been rumours about recruitments of known criminals into something bigger," he started his speech darkly. "I haven't been able to find out more, but with Grindelwald on the run again -"
"There's a high possibility that he's stirring up Europe again," Theseus Scamander finished sighing. He was a bit older than before, his handsome face showing lines where there hadn't been any the last time they saw each other. He was sitting in the back of the room, leaning heavily against a red-head in a blue coat and a green, stick like creature sitting on his other shoulder - his brother, one Newton Artemis Fido Scamander.
Sal inclined his head at Theseus in agreement.
"So," Jêrome Delacour, the Lord Delacour, said. He was sitting nearly on the opposide wall of the room than Theseus and looked like he was in the middle of a lavish banquet instead of a meeting of rascals. He was wearing the finest linen and sitting stiffly while listening avidly. "What do we do?"
"We'll prepare," Sal said sighing, slouching a bit at that answer. They hadn't even started yet, and he already felt tired - but then, they had been waiting and looking out for signs for the last four years. A constant watch was as tiring or even more tiring than open warfare could ever be.
"Prepare how?" Sirius Black asked and leaned forward, his brother Arcturus next to him.
Sal sighed and then shrugged.
"Recruitment," he said and pinched his nose. "Building a political power base in Britain; listening to rumours and act the moment we find something more concrete than we have now."
The others looked at each other, then some of them nodded slowly.
Charlus nudged Sirius a bit amused.
"I think you might be able to help with the whole political side, don't you, my Lord?" He asked amused and Sirius rolled his eyes.
"Just because I'm now the Lord Black, I don't think that it will help a lot," Sirius answered with a sigh. "My father was for the resistance as well - and yet, with everybody listening to Dumbledore, he had no chance to get the help we hoped for for us."
Charlus snarled angrily.
"Yes," he said unhappily. "That man is the most troublesome man I've ever met - especially considering how he's been treating my father and everybody else who goes against him!"
Allaric raised an eyebrow at Charlus.
"Your father?" He teased. "I thought that Henry Potter was your uncle, Charlus!"
Charlus rolled his eyes amused.
"As if anybody here doesn't know that my actual name is Fleamont Charlus Potter," he said and waved his words off. "I'm not about to lie to my comrades in war when I don't have to!"
Ollivander snickered.
"Well," he said jokingly. "I could use an Obliviate if you don't want anybody of us to know about that anymore."
Charlus rolled his eyes and Allaric cuffed the other man over the head.
"One would have thought that you had grown up in the last decade - sadly enough, this doesn't seem to be the case at all!" He declared not annoyed at all.
"Well," Ollivander drawled as amused as Allaric. "Unlike you I didn't make the mistake and marry - so of course I managed to stay as insane as I have been before!"
"Not that much of an achievement considering you're an Ollivander and your father and grand-father already proved that you're all insane!" Sirius countered amused.
Ollivander just smirked.
"It's not the Ollivanders who are known for their inherited insanity," he countered grinning.
Sirius rolled his eyes.
"It's not my fault that we Blacks are always interpreted wrongly by everybody else," he countered and his brother nodded.
"We just grin innocently at somebody - and suddenly, we're considered insane by everybody who sees us," Arcturus Black added sadly.
Cygnus, the last of the brothers, just nodded as sadly as his other brother.
"People simply don't appreciate our smiles anymore," with that, his face twisted into a smile that could only be called unhinged. Of course, his brothers followed up with the same smile just a second later.
The others around the room snorted.
Newt and Theseus Scamander smirked before mimicking the insane smile as well.
"Seems we must be related to the Blacks," Theseus pointed out.
Newt nodded.
"Maybe the Blacks should introduce Thes to some of their daughters - we definitely need a way to combine the insanity of our two lines… and Thes is the only one who still can do that!" He said grinning.
Charlus groaned.
"No!" He exclaimed. "I object! Anything but a marriage between the Blacks and the Scamanders!"
The Scamander brothers and the Black brothers exchanged an amused smirk.
"Then I guess we will have to look forward to a marriage between House Potter and House Black in the future," Newt said amused. "Or how else should I understand that sentence?"
Charlus threw the spy-master a disgusted glance.
"As if I'd ever marry a Black," he said with a shudder. "I've enough trouble with the one Black I call my best friend right now!"
At least, this would be Charlus's opinion until young Dorea Black would walk into his life in 1937. Sadly - at least sadly for the Potter heir - he would fall to her charm right after the first spell he'd see her ever cast…
1934
Sal raised his eyebrow when Sirius Black stepped into the tent he was currently using as a base. He knew that the other man had been home for the last two months, so he was a bit surprised, that the man was back here, when he was needed in Britain after taking over the lordship of his father, Phineas Nigellus Black, and therefore also taking over his seat in the Wizengamot.
"Sirius," Sal greeted the man nevertheless. "What are you doing here?"
The man grinned a bit madly.
"I'm here to present you some help we didn't have before," he answered, grinning a grin that was full of the rumoured Black-insanity.
Sal raised an eyebrow at the insane man.
"Whom?" he asked.
As an answer, Sirius stepped aside and gestured for the people behind him to enter.
"This is my nephew Pollux, his brother Marius and his sister Cassiopeia, their cousins Callidora and Cedrella as well as my own children: my sons Arcturus Sirius, his brother Regulus and their sister Lycoris," he said proudly while gesturing at each of the entering young adults. "They decided to join our little alliance."
Sal raised an eyebrow.
"Are you planning to bring the whole Black family into the war?" He asked amused.
Sirius shrugged.
"If I hadn't brought them, they would have rebelled," he countered. "I'm not that eager to be subjected to Marius' ingenious mind so I decided to take the line of the least resistance and just brought them with me."
One of the boys - Marius, as Sal would learn soon - grinned.
"Uncle knows us too well, it seems," he said amused.
"You mean he knows you too well, Marius," his brother Pollux objected. "I wouldn't dare to threaten the Head of our House with pranks if he doesn't do what I want!"
The other man crossed his arms and pouted.
"It's not as if I'd threaten our Head of House if it wasn't important!" Marius countered. His cousin Arcturus Sirius just ruffled his hair at that exclamation.
"Of course you wouldn't," he said fondly. "And believe me we're all thankful for it!"
Marius rolled his eyes.
"Oh, stop it, Archie!" He cried and slapped away his cousin's hand. "You're just unhappy that I can do stuff you can't! It's not my fault that you don't understand technik like most of the wizarding world!"
"Well, we've got you to explain it to us," Arcturus Sirius shrugged. "At least you can put the whole stuff into words I actually understand - and not those made-up words that muggles use!"
Marius raised an eyebrow at his cousin.
"Since I'm a squib, I'm not better than a muggle," he pointed out to his cousin, oddly unbothered by his lack of magic.
"You know how magic works and you can brew potions," Arcturus Sirius countered. "You're much more like us useless wizards than those useful muggles!"
Marius rolled his eyes at his cousin.
"In other words I'm as stupid and as insane as you," he said half-amused, half-exasperated. "What a nice assortment of my character!"
This time it was his brother who slapped his back.
"No, little brother," Pollux said earnestly. "We all know that you're not at all as stupid and as insane as we!"
Marius raised an eyebrow.
"I'm not?" He asked, clearly used to the brickering with his siblings and cousins.
Pollux smirked.
"Of course not!" He exclaimed before adding with an even deeper smirk. "You're worse!"
"Hey!" Marius objected, but before he could add something else, Lord Sirius Black spoke up again.
"Stop brickering, boys!" He interfered. "I don't need a prank war in the tent of the leader of the Resistance!"
Sal just looked at them in amusement.
"I'd prefer some less war in my tent as well," he said. "But if you want to invent something to drive Grindelwald crazy - be my guest."
Maybe, Sal shouldn't have said that - because the Black family would truly make some use of that promise not too far into Sal's future…
Barely a month after the joining of the Blacks, the discussion of the war in the Resistance would be taken up a new notch.
Grindelwald had started his own attack up again - but this time, the Resistance didn't plan to sit back and wait until Grindelwald was as strong as he had been before he had been taken down by the Resistance the last time.
This time, the Resistance had the chance to take action way before Grindelwald was up to his play - and the Resistance would do everything to use that to its benefits.
"We should think about our strategy. We might be able to step up our attacks this time around," Theseus said, frowning thoughtfully. Theseus Scamander and the rest of the Resistance had gathered in Sal's tent for a meeting. It was something that didn't happen often, but with Grindelwald starting to step up his attacks, Sal appreciated the opinion of everybody working with him - even if some of the ideas he might get would be something he would have to get used to over time…
Of course, especially the Scamander brothers had shown their unusual way of thinking in the past - but that didn't mean that Theseus Scamander and his brother were the only insane ones in Sal's Resistance.
"We should be able to step up our attacks this time around," Theseus added determined. "We just need to rethink our strategy and change it in a way Grindelwald would have never thought off or predicted!" His brother Newt nodded at that and leaned forward eagerly, nearly dislodging his brother by doing so.
"We got some interesting help this time around, after all," he said, grinning at some newcomers - most of them of Black descendant. The answer was a matching grin from them as well, tinged with something, that later might evolve in the all too well known Black-insanity…
Then one of the new Blacks spoke up.
"If we're stepping up the attacks on Grindelwald's men, then I formally ask you to add a new devision to our Knights."
Oddly enough, it didn't matter how long Sal persisted in calling his devision's by their actions - the moment Newt or Theseus Scamander heard about the new devision, it was renamed to their liking. To Sal's frustration, everyone else would soon use the new name instead of his descriptions. So if Sal wanted it or not, his spies were "Iron Bellies" or "the dragon devision", his attack group was the "knight devision" or the "knights", his rescue teams were "Smugglers" and them and his Oblivator squads, often also called "Lullabies", were part of the "Ghost devision".
At least, those names frightened and confused the enemies…
Sal looked at the speaker in inquiry.
The Black, being a Black took that as a means to continue and leaned forward as well, her face determined.
"My cousins and I had the idea that we should attack first for once, maybe," the woman said, looking at him coolly.
It was a good, if simple idea. It just had one mature flaw…
Sal sighed.
"We're not enough people to go head on against Grindelwald's men," he said tiredly and rubbed his face. Four years to prepare, and yet, there were only a handful of people who were willing to listen to him when it came to a possible return of Grindelwald in the near future… "We can't oppose his people directly. If we did, they would win."
There were grim looks all around and more than a few of the old-timers nodded in bitter agreement. They had seen the last war - they knew what to expect and they more than knew that the idea might be good in theory, but unmanageable in reality.
This was reality.
They might have some people, but compared to Grindelwald's legion, they were just a handfull.
They had no chance in a direczt fight and no way to gather more people when most preferred to stick their heads in the sand instead to fight…
The Black seemed to notice the dark faces, but wasn't discouraged by the looks of the others.
Instead her mad grin broadened.
"I don't propose that we go against Grindelwald's people head on," she said, grinning. "Callidora and I had the idea of a support team to the Knights. Air support. We thought about a division of light and not all too tall people."
Several people blinked at that in surprise.
Air support?
Sal leaned forward in amusement.
"Alight, Cassiopeia, I'm listening."
The answer was a deepening smirk from Cassiopeia Black. Soon enough the smirk spread to the rest of the room as well.
"Dorie and I talked and her idea goes like that…" she said, before explaining in detail, ending with the most important part. "Of course, considering that Dorie's just fourteen right now, she won't join us here for at least another two to three years or so - let's hope that the war won't last that long - but she's genious and we truly should try to implement her ideas…"
For a moment, there was silence in the room after her proposal, then Allaric Moody spoke up from his place next to Garrick Ollivander who was sitting to the left of Sal.
"This idea has merit," he said slowly. "We will have to hash it out a bit more, but in the end it might be something that Grindelwald's men will learn to fear very soon…"
That, of course, sparked an avid discussion of merits and ideas for the next few minutes.
"Anything else?" Newt asked after silence descended in the room once again.
"Well," Ernie Prang spoke up from his corner. "I heard you had some trouble with getting the injured off the battle field -"
Others nodded darkly.
Ernie grinned.
"Well…" he said slowly. "I looked into busses… you know, I played with them and magic a bit… and I might have a solution about that…"
The others exchanged a look while Sal tried not to turn green at the thought of Ernie Prang driving…
"So what?" Newt finally asked.
Ernie's grin just broadened and he looked at Marius, whose grin had broadened as well.
"Marius and I experimented a bit," he said grinning. "And we found out how to make my car even better hidden and useful for travelling - and then we managed to rebuild the whole magic construct onto a bus."
Pollux looked at his brother, clearly a bit confused.
"So what?" He asked.
Marius grinned.
"So we have a transport that can help with the wounded!" Marius exclaimed happily. "And don't worry - we ensured that it's absolutely safe!"
Sal decided to not say anything at all to that. Instead, he just inclined his head to show that he had listened before asking again.
"Anything else?"
When nobody said anything else, he sighed and then elaborated his own troubles.
"I at least need some people who will help me to recover everything we can about Grindelwald's past and his plans," he told his people, pinching his nose. "We got his name and that he's been to Durmstrang thanks to the Iron Bellies last time, but we were to preoccupied to look into it back then. I tried to do that within the last years, but his family is dead as far as I could find out, so gaining more information was next to impossible."
"We'll look into it anyway," Newt replied. "I've been doing that spy thing for quite some time now, don't worry, I'll find something."
Sal frowned at Newt.
"You met Grindelwald in New York, Newt," he pointed out. "Even if your cover would have still been intact by some miracle after the end of the last war, that meeting -"
"I'm well and truly uncovered as a spy now, I know," Newt said and waved it away unconcerned. "And yet, even in New York, he still underestimated me. He knew who I was and who I had been, he knew what I had done - and yet, there he was, underestimating me again."
At that, Sirius Black, sitting to Sal's right, snorted.
"Of course he did," he said, sounding more amused than the situation actually called for. "You've got a puppy dog face. Nobody, and I repeat, nobody ever will suspect a competend wizard when you look at them with your huge, blue eyes, stuttering around and being awkward all over the place!"
Newt just leaned back in his chair at that, making his brother yelp when he nearly squashed him in the process.
"Is that so," he said, looking at Sirius with a sad and innocent expression on his face. "It sounds as if you're accusing me to actively trying to make people underestimate me!"
Sirius snorted and crossed his arms.
"Stop it, Baby Scamander," he said. "You can act innocent all you want. You and I know both that you have enough power and knowledge in that stick of a body to keep up with Grindelwald for more than a few minutes if you want to!"
Newt looked at him with a hurt expression.
"I…" he stuttered. "I don't know what you mean?"
His hand went to his hair, carding through it in an awkward expression of unease.
"'s not as if I know a lot of things if it hasn't anything to do with creatures," he pointed out, blushing slightly.
Sirius rolled his eyes at the other man.
"Yeah, sure," he said. "Sorry, Baby Scamander. I saw you running around with a mad look on your face before and I know better to underestimate you after you played spy for us for more years that I even want to know in Grindelwald's army."
Newt's flustered face morved into a mad grin.
"Is that so," he said and leaned forward again which resulted in his brother nearly tumbling to the ground and cursing to himself and Newt that the man he had selected as his pillow had to move that much. Newt didn't even acknowledge his brother, instead he continued to speak as if nothing happened. "And yet, Grindelwald still sees the socially awkward, creature loving magizoologist when he looks at me - even after finding out that I deceived him for years."
"Yes," Charlus Potter injected. "But Grindelwald always only saw the mask - unlike us who saw the devious mind behind the mask as well. Believe me, I understand why Grindelwald continues to underestimate you - but you also have to admit it's a lot harder for us to do so after seeing how dangerous it is to fall in that trap with you!"
Newt pouted.
"You're no fun," he complained before shrugging and turning to Sal.
"I don't plan to continue spying if that's what you fear," he said. "It's more like that I plan to lead the dragon devision. I guess I'll be your spy master from now on. I'll coordinate and all that stuff. Don't worry, I'll be good at it as well."
Sal snorted and shook his head at the younger Scamander.
"I don't doubt it for just a second," he assured the other man and Newt grinned.
"I'll look into Grindelwald's past for you," he said. "I unearthed everything we needed until now. I will unearth that as well!"
If anything, that promise just told Sal that Newt would succeed. The man was far too damn stubborn to break a promise he made, after all… So in the end, Sal just nodded and left it at that. He trusted Newt to find out at least a little bit more and in a lot less time than Sal himself had needed. The man might be a creature fanatic, but he was still one of the best intelligence officers Sal had in his team, after all…
"Alright," he said aloud. "Anything else?"
"We'll also try to recruit some more," Theseus spoke up and carefully leaned back onto his brother's shoulder, clearly wary of said man's constant moving around.. "When Grindelwald finally returns to the open, he will have his army back. If we're still as few as we are now, we won't stand a chance."
"If it's true that he's recruiting there might be a way to regain some Iron Bellies," Newt added a bit eagerly and his brother immediately removed himself from Newt's shoulder, fearing that the man would lean forward again. Only when nothing happened even while Newt continued speaking, he returned to his previous position with still a wary eye on Newt. "We just need some people who are dark enough that they won't look admiss if they say that they want to join his cause."
Charlus snorted.
"You do that, Newt," he said amused. "And I'll go back to Britain and look for some help over there. They kept themselves apart the last time, if Grindelwald truly returns stronger than he was, there's no way that they will be able to do that again."
"If they don't join we'll simply leave them to their fate," Newt said, waving off Charlus' words, nearly hitting Theseus in the process. Said brother looked at him in discruntlement, but didn't move. "That should wake them up in the end…"
Theseus shook his head, leaning back further against his brother's shoulder.
"I truly wonder how more than half of the world thinks you're harmless, innocent and cute, Newt," he said. "A harmless expert in magizoology, solely interested in his creatures - as if! You should have been in Slytherin, not in Hufflepuff, my brother dearest!"
Newt flashed him a grin at that.
"If you say so, Thes," he said amused. "And now back to more important things than my sorting…"
It would take Newt some years to trace Grindelwald's family and his path in life, but in the end, they found a connection they hadn't known about: one Bathilda Bagshot, Grindelwald's great-aunt, told them about the one summer he fantasized with one Albus Dumbledore about taking over the world and finding the Hallows - not that they knew that information. But at least they finally had another source of knowledge: one Bathilda Bagshot.
"I have visited lairs, burrows and nests across five continents, observed the curious habits of magical beasts in a hundred countries, witnessed their powers, gained their trust and, on occasion, beaten them off with my travelling kettle."
The walk through the city was done in the twilight. Not one of them spoke until they finally reached the end of the city. The castle they were heeding to - Oberbürg - was situated a bit outside of Nuremberg, half hidden inside of a forest.
The moaded castle to muggles would have looked as innocent as every other uninhabited castle - and yet, the wizards of the Resistance could feel the wards that surrounded the castle, ensuring that muggle's wouldn't see the true castle hidden within the small looking moaded castle and that wizards wouldn't come near the castle at all.
Sal and his warders exchanged a glance.
Then Sirius Black nodded and gestured for his ward-breakers to start their work.
The other warders stepped up next to him.
The younger Arcturus Black was paired with the older Arcturus - one ward-breaker, one ward-holder.
Pollux Black was paired with Regulus Black, Sirius Black's younger son.
Sal Sanctuary was working with Lycoris Black.
And Charlus Potter was again Sirius Black's partner - like always.
Always a ward-breaker and a ward-holder… always one who was forced to take on the ward and one who might loose their lives if the wards backlashed…
"Be careful," Sal told them, but the determined look in the ward-breaker's faces Sal already knew that they wouldn't listen. If they had to die to take down the wards - they would do it…
And there was nothing Sal could do to stop them…
When Sal insertet himself into the wards, he couldn't help but feel impressed. The wards truly were a work of art - and it was clear that after all of the attacks from the Resistance Grindelwald had learned a lot about wards.
But it didn't matter how good Grindelwald was - he had not as much experience as Sal when it came to wards.
"There's a mistake in the muggle wards," Sal pointed out to Sirius and Charlus. "We can use that mistake to ensure us an entrance into the wards."
It spoke for Sirius and Charlus experience and abilities that they were able to manage to pinpoint what Sal had seen and locate the mistake as well.
"We will unravel the wards here," Charlus told him before Sal could even attempt to start unravel the wards himself.
"I'm a lot more experienced -"
"And your experience might be needed when we confront Grindelwald, Uncle," Charlus pointed out reasonably. "You don't have enough magic to unravel the wards now and confront Grindelwald later!"
That, Sal couldn't object to, so he did the only thing he could do - he did a magical and mental backstep and let Charlus and Sirius take over the unravelling of the wards.
But then, Sal had long since learned that he couldn't do everything alone…
1936
Two years.
It had taken another two years until they had found someone who could tell them more about the man who had slowly but surely taken other criminals under his wing and was not subtle influencing not only politicians in the magical world but in the muggle world as well.
Last year, Grindelwald had had his hands in Italy, starting the Second Italo-Ethiopian War. This year, he was active in Spain and Sal's people were trying their best to stop the man from spreading war over there.
Then, Newt had come with news about Grindelwald's past - finally.
Sal looked at the house in front of him. It looked old and nearly uninhabitated.
"And you're sure that this is the right house?" He asked the man next to him.
"It is," Newt told him earnestly.
Sal frowned at the house.
"It doesn't look like much," he said.
The other wizard frowned at it as well.
"It doesn't," he said. "It's still the right address."
Sal and Newt exchanged a glance with each other, then Sal stepped up to the front door and knocked.
For a few minutes, there was no reaction but shortly before Sal was able to knock a second time, the door opened and admitted an elderly lady with grey streaked blond hair and brown eyes.
She looked at them for a moment with a forbidding face until she actually looked at Sal.
Her eyebrow raised.
"I know your face," she said, frowning. "I somehow know your face."
Sal crooked his head at her, frowning as well.
"Mrs. Bagshot," he said, but was stopped by her immediately.
"Miss Bagshot," she corrected him. "I was never married."
Sal inclined his head in understanding.
"Miss Bagshot," he agreed. "This is Newton Scamander and I'm Sal Malfoire. We're here to talk about your great-nephew Gellert."
She answered with a frown, but surprisingly, her attention wasn't on the part of Sal's speech about her great-nephew.
"Malfoire?" she asked frowning. "Sal Malfoire as in Salvatio?"
Newt turned and looked at Sal in confusion while Sal's eyes narrowed.
"Bagshot…" he repeated thoughtfully. "Bathilda."
"Yes," she said. "Your… father?… may have talked about me a time or two. I was in his Ancient Runes class until 1887 when I graduated."
Sal frowned at her. It took a while to go over his memories and to find the right one. After two thousand years, even with his unusally good memory, he simply couldn't remember everything.
"Miss Bagshot," he agreed. "I remember."
The answer was a blending smile.
"So he talked about me," she said smiling. "It's nice to know that my most beloved professor in school liked me enough that he talked about me to his son."
Sal snorted.
"As far as I remember, you where quite a wild girl, always making trouble," he corrected her amused. "I'm not quite sure how that translates to him being your most beloved professor…"
The older woman laughed at that.
"I was," she said amused. "But he was the only one who actually looked after me anyway."
Sal looked at her in surprise.
"I never thought that you'd think that way," he confessed.
She smiled amused.
"Like you said, I was a wild girl," she told him. "But that doesn't change the fact that I always felt like he was looking after me."
Sal smiled at her a bit amused.
"It's nice to know," he said, before his smile vanished to be replaced by a sever expression. "But now, you might be the one to help me this time around. We need to know about Gellert - everything you can tell us might help."
Bathilda Bagshot frowned at him.
"You're here because of the things he did in Europe," she said.
Sal inclined his head.
"I am," he told her truthfully.
Her eyes narrowed.
"What has the son of Salvatio Malfoire to do with Gellert and his idiotic idea of ruling the world?" She asked him.
Newt frowned at Sal, but Sal just looked at Bathilda calmly while contemplating his answer.
In the end, he decided to speak plain English.
"I'm not his son," he told her, startling her.
Bathilda frowned at him at that.
"You look like him and your name -"
"It's the same like his," Sal confirmed.
She frowned.
"So how can you not be his son?" She asked him confused.
Sal sighed, but answered truthfully anyway.
"I am he himself," he answered. "Not his son. I was the one who taught you back then."
She looked at him in surprise.
"You look so young," she said confused.
Sal grimaced.
"There's an explanation for that," he said with a sigh. "But I fear I can't tell you the reason."
Bathilda looked at him in surprise, but in the end nodded and then stepped aside.
"That doesn't explain what you have to do with Gellert and his way to 'greatness'," she told him.
"It doesn't," Sal answered. "But someone has to work against him - and if that has to be me, so be it."
She looked at him, her face showing that she understood his reasoning - understood that there was more to his way of doing thing than she knew.
Then she gestured to them to enter her home.
"Come on in," she said. "I will tell you everything you want to know about Gellert and his best friend Albus, Professor Malfoire…"
It had taken another three weeks until Sal had finally been able to hunt down the man who might help them by telling them more about Gellert Grindelwald's plans…
"Mr. Dumbledore!" The man kept moving. "Mr. Dumbledore!"
It was just before the man reached The Three Broomsticks that Sal finally caught up with him.
"Excuse me, Mr. Dumbledore!" This time, the red haired man stopped and then turned around to face him.
"May I help you?" he asked pleasantly.
"I hope so," Sal answered sincerely. "Would you mind giving me a few minutes of your time?"
The red haired man - one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore - shook his head with a smile, "don't worry, lad. I don't mind."
Sal inwardly scowled at the moniker 'lad' but since Dumbledore was already in his fifties and Sal looked to be merely twenty for convient's sake - people were more agile in their twenties, after all - he guessed that he would have to grit his teeth and bear it.
"Do you want to talk here or are you fine with entering this lovely ettablisement and find a quiet corner in there?" The older-looking wizard asked in that moment. Sal sighed at that, but gestured to the door anyway.
"Lead the way, Mr. Dumbledore," he said.
Just a minute or two later they had found a quiet corner and Sal had discretely put up a runic ward to hide their conversation from others.
After they had their drinks, Dumbledore again turned to Sal.
"Well, maybe you can start now with who you are and why you are here," he suggested while taking a sip of his butterbeer.
Sal inclined his head at that.
"I am Salvazsahar Malfoire," he said. "I'm from France. I came to Britain when a lead brought me here."
"A lead?"
"I'm researching a rising Dark Lord," Sal answered sincerely. "He's causing trouble all over Europe and it has already started to spill into the muggle world. I'm not keen on it spilling further."
Dumbledore just raised an eyebrow at that.
"Spilled in the muggle world?" he asked disbelievingly.
Sal nodded darkly.
"The Spanish are in a Civil War right now," he said. "The raising Dark Lord has been dabbling into their politics for some while now and just before the war started, he pulled some strings to kick-start it. I'm not sure what he is planning, but he is using the war to not only gain followers but also to subordinate the Spanish wizarding world bit by bit. If we don't stop him soon, he will have Spain in his clutches and will then start onto the rest of Europe. For all we know he might start another World War in the muggle world just to be able to use it to hide the rest of his actions. We can't let him do that, so here I am."
Dumbledore frowned at that.
"I'm not quite sure why you come to me with that," he said. "I'm just a professor. If you need help, you should go to the government."
At that, Sal regarded him darkly.
"The man who started to rise as a dark lord is Gellert Grindelwald," he said finally.
Dumbledore's eyebrow shot up at that, but then he leaned back and started to sip at his drink again.
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