The streets of magical Berlin were shrouded in a light mist of rain that did nothing to slow the flow of people moving through the city.
As Albus Dumbledore walked along the avenues, hidden beneath a hat and a dark cloak, he observed the brightly lit shops and public spaces, as well as the countless witches and wizards hurrying back and forth. He noticed that even with all the terror and uncertainty that Grindelwald's resurgence was spreading across the continent, the city remained bustling with vibrant activity. Seeing that people refused to be paralyzed by fear was something that deeply heartened him; it was proof of the human spirit's resilience in the face of adversity.
He finally reached the imposing black stone entrance of the German Ministry of Magic. However, as soon as he set foot on the main steps, two burly combat wizards acting as security guards blocked his pathway by crossing two metal staffs, preventing him from passing.
"Halt there. Access is restricted today," one of the guards informed him in a harsh voice with a thick accent. "Archmage Marianne Elsenburg is in the building, and she has given us strict orders that she does not want anyone without identification loitering on the premises. Please leave immediately."
Albus paused, raised a hand to the brim of his hat, and slowly removed it. He lifted his face, revealing his bright blue eyes, and gave them a friendly smile.
"What a fortunate coincidence, gentlemen," Albus said in a soft, polite tone. "Because she is precisely the one I've been looking for—I suppose it's my lucky day."
The two wizards' eyes widened. Surprise took their breath away for a second as they recognized the unmistakable aura and face of Grindelwald's Vanquisher, the British Archmage Albus Dumbledore. Immediately, their hostility vanished. With deep respect, both bowed their heads and lowered their weapons, clearing the way for him to enter.
"My apologies, Herr Dumbledore. You may pass," murmured the guard.
Albus smiled at them, nodding slightly.
"I thank you very much for the information, lads," he said before walking past them and into the Ministry's corridors.
Guided by the unmistakable and powerful magical signature he had known since childhood, Albus walked until he reached the high-security wing. Just as he stopped in front of the double doors leading to the main office, they swung open.
The German Minister of Magic strode out, surrounded by an entourage of secretaries and a couple of Aurors. Upon seeing the British legend standing in the hallway, the group came to a sudden halt.
"Minister, it's a pleasure to see you," Albus greeted him with a polite nod.
The German minister clenched his jaw. He returned the greeting, showing the respect that the Archmage's status deserved, but his tone and gaze were incredibly curt, icy, and devoid of any warmth before he continued down the hallway without saying another word.
Albus let out a small sigh and crossed the threshold. When he finally entered the immense, elegant office, the doors closed magically behind him.
There, seated behind a desk and watching him with not the slightest expression on her face, was she.
Marianne Elsenburg was an absolutely beautiful woman, whose magic made her appear to be about forty years old despite having been born in the same era as him. She had long, silky dark blonde hair that fell over her shoulders in elegant waves, and piercing gray eyes that Albus always sensed could read his every intention.
Albus smiled at her, feeling the weight of a century of history between them.
"You look as radiant as ever, Marianne," Albus greeted her warmly.
Marianne's expression did not soften in the slightest. She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.
"Save your breath, Albus. Your flattery won't get you anywhere with me today," Marianne warned him, her voice cold and emotionless.
Dumbledore nodded slowly, accepting the clear refusal. He walked over to one of the guest chairs and sat down, letting out a weary sigh as he placed his hat on his knees.
"I suppose I deserve it," Albus admitted. "Though I must say, my old friend, I didn't recall the German Minister being so… unpleasant. His treatment has been rather harsh."
Marianne smiled and burst out laughing; when she finally calmed down, she said to Albus with sarcasm.
"And what exactly were you expecting, Albus? A marching band and a red carpet?" Marianne snapped, leaning forward, her gray eyes flashing with fury. "The whole damn world believed that you had not only defeated Gellert Grindelwald in that duel, but that you had also wiped him off the face of the earth."
Marianne raised her hands and clapped three times, the sound echoing throughout the office.
"So imagine the enormous surprise of every government in the wizarding world when the monster suddenly appeared—very much alive, indeed—and his followers, whom we believed to be eradicated, began to sow chaos, death, and destruction once again throughout our territory."
Albus felt a heavy weight of guilt in his chest. He opened his mouth to try to explain himself, to talk about the complexities of the moment, but Marianne wouldn't let him. She raised a hand, cutting him off mid-sentence.
"No. Don't give me your speeches, Albus," Marianne cut him off harshly. "Because, of course… poor, noble Albus was incapable of killing his great love, right? Or maybe he just didn't want to. So you made the brilliant decision to just lock him up in a tower, play the merciful one, and hope that miraculously nothing would happen. If you ask me, to me you're just a coward."
The Archmage rose abruptly from her chair. She circled the desk and approached Albus slowly. She stopped a few inches from him, narrowed her eyes, and murmured in a voice that shifted from contempt to pain.
"The German Minister, as well as absolutely everyone who is losing their families today because of you, are more than justified in treating you the way they do, Albus."
Albus lowered his gaze, absorbing every word and every accusation. He knew there was no possible defense. He had allowed his feelings—and his fear of facing the truth—to put the world in danger once again.
Slowly, he lifted his face. A small, joyless smile formed on his lips.
"You're right, Marianne. About everything," Albus told her in a soft, firm voice.
Then Dumbledore turned his gaze, fixing his bright blue eyes directly on the cold gray eyes of his childhood friend. The old headmaster's warmth vanished, replaced by the steely resolve of a repentant Archmage.
"But I promise you one thing... this time, I won't hesitate to do it."
Marianne Elsenburg widened her eyes slightly, breaking her mask just a little. She stared at Albus, almost unable to believe the promise that had just come from her old friend's lips.
The surprise on Marianne's face lasted only a second before her gray eyes looked at him curiously.
"And do you already have a plan in place to achieve that grand goal?" Marianne asked, crossing her arms, expecting to hear a brilliant strategy worthy of a leader.
Albus gave a somewhat sheepish smile and scratched his head, momentarily losing his aura of Archmage.
"Well… being Headmaster of Hogwarts is quite a demanding job, and it takes up a lot of my free time," Dumbledore excused himself in an almost childlike tone.
Marianne let out a long sigh, slowly shaking her head. The tension that had dominated the room began to dissipate, replaced by a deeply familiar exasperation.
"Typical of you, Albus. Absolutely typical," she muttered.
Turning around, Marianne walked back to her desk and sank into her chair. She rested her elbows on the wood and her face in her hands. Her expression softened, and she looked at him with a twinkle of amusement dancing in her eyes.
"But, anyway… What else can you expect from an Archmage who isn't even capable of controlling what happens in his own country?" Marianne teased.
Albus shifted in his chair, looking a little uncomfortable under his friend's scrutiny.
"It's… complicated," Albus admitted, interlacing his fingers on his lap. "So much has been happening in Britain over the last few years. Everything has changed."
Marianne burst out laughing, giving him a broad smile that made her look exactly like the girl in the photograph Albus kept on his desk.
"It's always been ridiculously easy to tease you, Albus," she said, savoring the moment. "Maybe it's about time you retired and took up knitting socks. After all, they already have another Archmage in power over there in Great Britain. That guy... Vol..." Marianne scratched her cheek with a finger, frowning as she searched her memory, until she finally came up with the word. "Voldemort. Yes, Voldemort is his name."
Albus scratched the back of his neck, his smile turning somewhat tense and regretful.
"Both Tom's rebirth and his meteoric rise to political power were things that, I admit, I overlooked. I couldn't have foreseen it, and by the time I realized it, it was already too late for me to do anything."
Marianne shrugged, brushing off her old friend's excuses.
"Tell me something," Marianne asked. "And does that Voldemort—or Tom Gaunt, whatever he calls himself now—have anything to do with that boy… Aurelian?"
Albus looked away toward the large window in the office. That simple, guilty gesture of evasion was all the confirmation she needed.
Marianne laughed again, this time harder, nearly slamming her hand on the table.
"It's incredible!" she exclaimed, fascinated. "A mere child managed to outwit the great Albus Dumbledore at his own game, right under your nose!"
Albus sighed, unable to defend himself against that undeniable truth.
"This Lord Gaunt is indeed a most interesting individual," Marianne continued, leaning back in her chair and adopting a more reflective tone. "Someone from my inner circle attended that gala in your country where the boy displayed his Arcane Patterns. They brought me the reports. I have to admit I was amazed. That new branch of magic is revolutionary. The boy is an absolute genius."
Albus looked at her again and smiled with a hint of hope as he heard those words of praise for the young Aurelian.
"He is," Albus agreed. "He's a true prodigy. And despite his… questionable methods, I have high hopes that he will be the one to lead Britain in the future, down a better path than I ever could have."
Marianne twisted her lips into a small, arrogant smirk, looking at her perfectly manicured nails with feigned disinterest.
"Well, if he's so brilliant and interesting, then maybe I'll take him for myself," Marianne remarked casually.
Albus raised an eyebrow, looking at her with obvious surprise.
"If I recall correctly, Marianne, you always looked down on or simply ignored all the wizards and witches I tried to mentor or take under my wing. You said I turned them into boring, soft-hearted people."
"Ah, you're absolutely right," Marianne replied, returning his gaze with a sharp smile. "But from what you've told me today and what I've heard from my contacts… that boy is anything but someone you could have influenced, dear Albus."
Dumbledore smiled wearily. He leaned back in his chair, letting the weight of the journey and the tensions slip from his shoulders. He could handle his old friend's teasing, reproaches, and sharp sarcasm without any trouble.
"At least," Albus thought with deep relief in his heart, "she didn't attack me the moment I walked through the door. She's just teasing me like in the old days." And in the midst of a war that threatened to devour the entire world, that tiny spark of… affection, was the best gift he could have asked for.
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