HERE WE GO AGAIN

A/N: Hey guys...I hope you are doing well. I apologise for the delay, but I was in a sports camp with my team as I am representing my province in a tournament, and I had to be away from my laptop for almost a month. I apologise once again for the delay and present the next chapter... Enjoy...

Chapter 21- Player Number Three

“I wonder what Albus is up to?” The man sighed as he tossed another newspaper atop the ever-growing pile. He rarely got any these days. Now that he thought about it, he rarely got any, but the frequency has decreased in the last few months.

He remembered the last visit of the man to this place. Albus’s visits were the only things he had anticipated for years now. He was sure half a decade had passed since he was locked up in his creation. Albus made it a point to visit him twice or thrice a month and would talk to him.

There was nothing that the two had explicitly to talk about. Things had not been the same ever since Ariana passed away, and any drive that Albus possessed washed away along with her death.

He always wished that things would have been something different back then. He lost his partner the day Ariana died.

As much as Albus was invested in their grand scheme of things, his family always held his attention. They were his first preference.

Gellert Grindelwald always played second fiddle to Albus Dumbledore regarding preference.

Her death invariably shut down Albus's path ahead, and Gellert left the man to be. He left his life, and he proceeded with his plan. With their plan.

It was a grand success. Gellert’s plans took shape, and they began to run when he had only planned to walk.

The Second World War played right into his hands, and he took advantage. Every single idea that he incorporated went off without a hitch. There was nothing that could stop him.

He and Albus had envisioned a powerful, magical world run by them, where every magical being would take pole position.

It was not a simple ideology. It was more than that. A thought nurtured into a vision. A vision leading into reality. Albus and he had spent all their youth solely for magical dominance. They were scoring through tomes, accumulating every advantage of pure magical ability. They were always well and truly ahead of the rest of the magical world.

He remembered the first time he met Albus Dumbledore in Godric's Hollow. His aunt Bathilda had good things and only good things to discuss regarding Albus. One meeting and he knew that the woman was not lying. Albus Dumbledore was the most gifted wizard he had ever met.

They hit it off from their first visit, and they remained very good friends while he remained in Austria and Albus in England. They wrote to each other, discussing various magics that appealed to them, finding new spells to try out and improvise. Magic was the only common point between Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald.

He was sent away from Durmstrang, and Albus graduated from Hogwarts with high honours. The man was a prodigy, and every division of the English Ministry was keeping tabs on him.

That was when the two of them devised a plan—an idea to embark on a journey of knowledge. Albus was very interested in travelling worldwide and learning as much as possible.

He had always expressed his desire to travel the world and learn about magics absent in your everyday life.

Learn they did. Albus, the wizard he was, took to these strange magics like fish to water. There wasn’t a spell he could not do. Gellert would admit this heartily, but Albus was leaps and bounds ahead regarding magical understanding. He could figure out spells without much difficulty. Sky was the limit when it came to magic for the two.

As much as he was weaker regarding the principle basic of magics, Gellert possessed raw power that made up for it. He was always stronger than Albus. Although he was no slouch in magical theory, his power was what stood out. He would be the one to implement anything that Albus would come up with, and he used to do it without any hesitation.

Albus might doubt his work at certain times, but he always believed his friend's brain. The two agreed on one fact and reality when they began their journey. That was the fact that nothing can bring back the dead. Nothing stood ahead of death.

He always thought that if there was one person who could probably find a way around the entity of death, it had to be Albus Dumbledore. Such was the man’s ability.

Gellert envisioned a world based on wizarding supremacy. For the ‘Greater Good’, he believed that it should be them, the wizards and witches, that should be in control of the world, with the muggles being under them in the pecking order. Albus shared similar sentiments. He cared less about the muggles, his sister being one to have witnessed trouble from them and many times his entire family and his kind in general, but he was a person who thought that the world could be a better place with them in control. With Albus’s charm and his power, this seemed achievable.

Just when they had begun to implement their plans and go ahead with making inroads, things took a turn.

Everything changed after Albus’s father’s death. A lot of family drama was ensured between Aberforth, Albus’s brother and Albus. Abeforth was a simpleton when compared to his prodigious brother. Aberforth and Arianna remained in the background due to Albus’s sheer brilliance that caught the eye of the world. Many people never knew that Aberforth existed, and they only recognised him from the name Albus built as time passed.

Abeforth could care less. He was devoted to his sister, so he stayed away from Hogwarts just so that he could care for his sister. No persuasion from Albus himself, their father or anybody changed that. He spent all his time with his sister. The girl became his life.

Albus stayed away from his family, and Abeforth and Ariana were all they had for each other after their father got imprisoned. Albus tried to establish some form of contact, only to fail. Aberforth wanted nothing to do with his elder brother.

Aberfoth tore down Albus, who stood unmoving, his head lowered in shame. Aberforth was livid with the way Albus was progressing. When Albus showed up after years of being apart from the family, leaving behind his sister and himself, Aberforth couldn’t hold back his anger. Some of his words were beyond what would be classified as venomous.

Gellert was not exempt from the man’s tongue either. But he would not sit down and listen to a bitter man complain about how unfair his life was. When his patience reached its limits, he could not hold back. His wand did the talking.

He didn’t care if it was Albus’s brother or if there was an ill girl in the same room. The younger man was ready for this action, it seems, because his wand returned fire.

Aberforth continued to throw spells at Gellert, which the man made short work of without breaking a sweat. He was about to retaliate, but Albus joined the fray.

He did his best to stay neutral, ensuring no curses reached one another, trying to persuade the two to drop this foolishness. Every spell Gellert shot was met with a response from Albus, and every spell from Abeforth was neutralised by Albus, too.

Everything next happened within the blink of an eye. Seconds later, spells had left each of their wands, but to this day, none knew whose spell strayed away and struck Dumbledore’s sister.

Gellert observed the two brothers closely, his mind reeling from everything happening. The brothers remained frozen on the spot, and the next sound was a cry of anguish from Aberforth as he dropped his wand to the ground, running to his sister and throwing himself next to her motionless form.

Gellert observed Albus all the while. The man was still. He could not make out an emotion in the face of the very expressive man. When he stepped closer to his friend, hoping to speak, Albus reacted. The fury in the very calm man’s face was astonishing to Gellert, and he was shocked to see such a reaction for the first time since he knew the man.

Albus’s wand, defending him since this mess began, was now on the offensive, cursing at him without a pause. For the first time since their association, Gellert saw a different man. A man who he knew was not the Albus he knew. One look into his eyes revealed everything that needed to be done. Albus would never forgive him.

That was the last day he ever stepped foot in England. One, he never dared to go back after what transpired and face Albus. Two, he had other preferences and work that revolved around his vision. A vision that took precedence over anything else.

A melancholic sigh escaped his lips as he jogged down memory lane. After he and Albus broke contact, he went on a spree of world domination. The muggle war played right into his hands, and he took advantage. Europe belonged to Gellert until Charlus Potter stepped into the warfield.

He would never profess it, but that man earned his respect. A monster on the battlefield and the man who singlehandedly turned the entire war upside down. He should have been wary of him after Cassiopeia warned him about his family. He didn’t know that he was doing any favours by killing Charlus’s father, but he didn’t know that, did he?

The war that was supposed to be under his control was snatched out from under his eyes, and everything he had spent years building came tumbling down within a few months courtesy of the now-dead Potter Lord.

He would have taken other measures had something worked out, but nothing was working out. He had no choice but to seek out Potter. The man had turned the tables, and Gellert was losing badly. That was when Albus was waiting for him. Not to greet him as a friend but to fight him as an enemy.

He could do nothing but laugh at the irony. The man who was supposed to be his brother-in-arms and stand by his side was here to destroy his vision and fight him for it. Fight him he did. Three long hours, with nothing to differentiate between the two. His every question had an answer, which was the same from his side. Neither could be distinguished and after months of agonising tension, Gellert enjoyed the duel—every second of it.

He knew he would have won any other day and maybe against any other opponent, but not against Albus. There was no way he was winning against his friend that day. By the end of the second hour, Gellert had given up any form of hope for winning and instead just enjoyed duelling. Albus won, but he lost. He had lost a few months back, but this was the final action to ensure so.

Here he was, almost five decades later, in the prison he built to lock up his opposition, with nobody in the vast castle, locked up himself. He would have hoped Albus would have killed him rather than subject him to this place, but Albus was never a killer. The entire world can do him a lot of evil, and the man would not think about killing even if it is the last possible action.

The man still made time to visit him. Gellert knew that Albus would never forgive him for what transpired so many years ago, but despite that, he made sure that he would make time and visit him at least once every three or four months.

All his time, he always felt that if there was somebody who would be the opposition that would hinder his progress, he had always envisioned Dumbledore being on the other end of his stance. He never would have expected that Charlus Potter would cut down his years of hard work.

Potter… He remembered Albus talking fondly of the young Potter heir, who somehow managed to defeat the Dark Lord Voldemort, aged one. He had always wondered how the baby had managed to do something like that. It was a fluke. He did not doubt that. Those who believed otherwise were fools.

Albus shared similar sentiments. He had repeatedly voiced that this Tom Riddle was still alive and was bidding his time. If Albus doubted so, there was no reason to consider otherwise. He had listened to the man share his stories regarding the young Potter. The possessed teacher in his first year, a basilisk, a patronus capable of shielding from hundred-odd dementors, the Tri-Wizard Champion of Hogwarts and the competition winner, fighting off a mind attack from the most powerful legilimens in the world, from what he knew.

Albus always knew that the boy would end Riddle. He was confident about Potter more than anybody else for some reason. Why, he had no idea. He was sure that he had his reasons, but he always felt a bit apprehensive.

Potter was a schoolboy. What more can he do against a Dark Lord who shook the entire nation and could do so even in the presence of Albus?

That was not for him to worry. He stared off at the enormous dark wall ahead of his bed and sighed. He wished Albus would show up. He could do with the man being here for a few hours to talk to.

He felt a wave of magic enter his surroundings. It might have been years since he had cast a single spell, but he was still Gellert Grindelwald. He knew what happened around him, and he didn't necessarily need a wand for that.

A solid magical presence was approaching his surroundings, and before he knew it, the door to his cell was blasted open, and Gellert covered his face as he turned away from the explosion. He coughed slightly as the dust rose and tried to look through the mess.

“Gellert Grindelwald.” The voice rasped, taking Gellert by surprise. He had not expected him, of all people, to come here. “Tom Riddle.” The man’s eyes twitched irritably as he glared at the man.

Gellert looked at the man for the first time since he heard about him. Eyes in the form of snake-like slits, burning crimson. His nose was non-existent. Bald head, his body covered with jet-black robes. He observed the mana’s tongue snake out, and he was not surprised to see a similar snake-like tongue this time.

The man was too boastful of his Slytherin heritage, it seemed. Nobody in their right mind would be okay with looking like the man did. It was hideous to say it out loud. He tried to suppress his smile, but he failed.

He could see the man’s eyes twitch in annoyance once again. “I am looking for something that you possess.” Gellert frowned. “I am an old man, well past his prime, in a stage of dying the very next moment if the time comes, locked in a decrypt old castle that I built with my hands. Does it look like I have anything to give you?” He questioned, a small smile forming on his face.

“You know what I am talking about, Grindelwald.” Riddle growled, his eyes glinting brightly in anger before they turned back their usual red. A satisfied smirk appeared as he watched the older man stiffen in his seat.   “Let us not play games, Mr Grindelwald. I don’t have the time for it nor the patience.”

Gellert stared at the man in silence, contemplating his words. “Now? After all this time, now you seek the relic of the legends?” He chuckled mockingly.

“The great Lord Voldemort has seemingly lost his trust in his abilities, it seems. Why else would the so-called greatest wizard of all time, the most dangerous Dark Lord, require a wand from children's stories?”

“It seems that young Potter has managed to scare you, Tom.” The former Dark Lord laughed in the face of the now murderous-looking Tom Riddle. “Albus was right. He always was. He was sure that Harry Potter would be the one entity in this world that would scare you. That Harry Potter would be the one that would close the chapter of Lord Voldemort.”

“Crucio!” Tom roared, his wand trained on the prisoner, receiving pained screams from the man. The man convulsed violently for a few moments, and then, to Tom’s surprise, he laughed. His screams had turned into laughs despite the pain that shot through the man’s body.

“Is…Is that all you…you… are capable of?” Gellert gasped as the spell was lifted. He pushed himself up in his place, coughing hard as the effects of the curse still lingered in his body.

“I expected something more damaging, Tom. Is this all you are going to do? Throw torture curse at me for the entire day?” He dissolved into a coughing fit once again.

“I won’t be warning you again, Grindelwald. Where is the elder wand?” Tom questioned.

“Wand of elder, never prosper,” Gellert whispered, his voice low and hollow. “Wand of the elder will never let you prosper. No matter how strong you are, the wand carries misfortune, and it follows you. It destroys you.” He explained.

“The wand of elder possesses a bloody history. Its trail was imbued with blood and death. I had great hopes. I felt immortal. I was the most powerful man with that wand until everything went bad. Blow after blow pushed me into the depths of misfortune, and everything was over before I knew it.”

“That is no ordinary wand.” He warned. “You are pulled into a false sense of security. You would feel powerful, and you would be powerful, but the wand would make it all go wrong. That wand can do things to your life without your knowledge.”

“I have had enough of your rambling.” Tom cut in, his wand trained on the man. “Legilimens!” He roared as he dwelled into the man’s memories, looking for what he wanted. He returned two minutes later, a satisfied look on his face.

“There…That was not very difficult, was it?” He made to leave when Gellert chuckled.

“Remember every word of mine, Tom Riddle. The wand of the elder will never let you prosper. The wand of the elder would be the downfall of your reign. The wand of the elder would take away everything you have built up for yourself.”

“The Wand of the Elder, Never Prosper. Never Prosper.” Gellert whispered to silence once more as he chuckled once again.

TBC—-----