Mar. 4th, 2015

You meet the predatory appraisal of ‘King’ Gellert’s gaze with a proud tilt of your chin, and he smiles, like a big cat, “So how long have you and your sister been wandering the wild lands?”

At your back, Ariana clutches your shirt sleeve, as skittish and quiet as a church mouse, and you are thankful that Grindelwald had already dismissed her from his attention. ”Since the second sacking of Mould-on-the-Wold, one year ago.”

"Ah that, the raiders left the head of Saturninus Fudge spiked on the ruins of the city walls. Was he not the man who had turned in your father for treason?"

Ice burns under you skin at the implied accusation. Eyeing the tight perimeter formed by Grindelwald’s guards, you nodded your head with you eyelashes lowered, and recited the familiar disavowal: “My father Percival has long been cast from our family, all the rest of us steadfast to the hallowed throne of your late kinsman, and now, your majesty.”

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March 2015

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