Epilogue

Bathilda Bagshot was already awake when the door to her house was knocked on at half past six in the morning. She had not slept for most of the night, worried about Gellert. He had come back to the house just slightly past midnight. She had heard him slam the door, and she had gone into the hall to make sure everything was all right. Everything had not been all right.

He had ignored her for most of the time she had stood near the stairs, ranting to himself about how “it wasn’t supposed to be like this” and how “everything had gone wrong.” She had tried to ask him what was the matter, but he had not seemed to hear her. When she had touched his shoulder, trying to comfort the teenager, he had rounded on her and pointed his wand straight at her. She had let him retreat to his bedroom. She had gone to her own not long after, deciding that he needed to be left alone and that she could ask him questions in the morning.

The woman left the kitchen, and the modest breakfast she was making for Gellert and herself, to answer the door. Standing on the porch was an ashen-faced Albus Dumbledore. He looked as though he had not slept, and he peered up at her. For one of the first times, Bathilda could believe that he was seventeen, rather than thinking he was older. He looked frightened… unsure. She was certain that some quarrel had occurred between the boys.

“Albus,” she said gently, opening the door wider, “come in.”

“I need to speak to Gellert,” the young man told her. His voice was strained, and he looked at her with an oddly pleading gaze. “I need to speak to him.”

“He isn’t awake yet,” Bathilda replied. “Or, at least, he hasn’t left his room.” She doubted that Gellert had gotten any more sleep than Albus had. After all, the boys were dreadfully fond of one another. Whatever tiff they’d had, it was sure to have upset them bother. She looked at Albus’s expression and caved. “Come along. I’ll help you fetch him.”

The two mounted the stairs, Albus behind the lady of the house. He hesitated at the top of the stairs but followed her to Gellert’s room. Bathilda knocked on the door, called Gellert’s name, and, when she got no response, she tried the door. She made a small, slightly surprised sound when the knob turned and she was able to open it. Gellert always locked his door.

She gasped when she looked at the room. The bed was made and there was not a book to be seen. A few pieces of parchment still littered the ground as well as a few photographs. Albus stood just behind her, able to see into the room over her shoulder. The trunk was gone and the various cufflinks, hats, and other such pieces of clothing that Gellert had been fond of were all missing. Loki and his cage were by the window, and it had been bolted shut, exactly how it had been when Gellert had first arrived.

From the room’s appearance, Gellert Grindelwald might never have even lived in Godric’s Hollow.