The interior of Nurmengard lay in absolute darkness. No torches burned along the walls, and no enchanted lights floated through the corridors. It was as though the prison itself had long since surrendered to the shadows.
"Lumos."
Maurise spoke the incantation quietly. A warm glow blossomed from the tip of his wand, pushing back the darkness just enough to reveal his surroundings. He found himself standing at the foot of a narrow spiral staircase carved entirely from black stone. It wound endlessly upward, disappearing into the darkness beyond the reach of his wandlight.
With no other path available, he began to climb.
Each step echoed softly through the silent tower. The wall to his right was lined with heavy, iron-bound cell doors. Every few paces, another prison cell emerged from the darkness, identical to the last. Curious, Maurise stopped at the first door and pushed against it, but it did not budge. The lock hadn't rusted with age; it remained as solid as the day it had been forged. Only the small barred inspection hatch slid open after a protesting screech of old metal. He slipped his wand through the opening.
"Lumos."
The light revealed a bleak, lifeless room. A crude stone slab rested against one wall, serving as a bed, while a rusted metal basin occupied one corner. Thick iron chains still hung from the walls, trailing across a floor buried beneath years of undisturbed dust. There wasn't a trace of recent habitation.
'Definitely abandoned.'
He closed the hatch and continued upward. Floor after floor passed beneath his feet, and every cell told the same story: dust, silence, and empty stone rooms that hadn't housed a prisoner in years.
Eventually, the staircase came to an end. At the very top of the tower stood a single, isolated cell. Maurise paused before the heavy iron door.
'If Grindelwald is still here... statistically speaking, this has to be the one.'
He knocked politely. "Hello? Routine inspection."
Silence. There wasn't even a shuffle from inside. Maurise shrugged.
'Worth a try.'
His body dissolved into a pool of liquid shadow. The darkness flowed effortlessly through the narrow gap beneath the door before gathering once more into human form on the opposite side. The instant his boots touched the floor, he sensed another living presence. Someone was here.
Beneath a narrow barred window sat an impossibly old man upon a weathered wooden chair. His frame was gaunt enough to resemble a skeleton draped in skin. His silver hair hung untidily around a deeply lined face, while his breathing came slow and shallow, as though every breath required conscious effort. His eyes remained closed.
Despite the poor lighting, Maurise recognized him immediately. The hollow features matched the face he had glimpsed within Professor Trelawney's crystal ball: Gellert Grindelwald.
His infiltration had been so seamless that the old wizard hadn't even noticed another person entering the room. Maurise hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat.
"Er... hello?"
Grindelwald's eyes opened instantly, and any illusion of frailty vanished. Those pale eyes were frighteningly sharp. Even after decades of imprisonment, they still belonged to one of history's greatest wizards. The old man rose to his feet with surprising speed, fixing Maurise with an unwavering stare.
Neither spoke. Several seconds passed in complete silence before Grindelwald finally broke it.
"Who are you?"
Maurise scratched the back of his neck. "That's... actually a difficult question to answer." He smiled awkwardly. "I suppose you could say I'm here on a rather unconventional prison visit."
As he spoke, he raised his wand slightly, allowing the glow of his spell to illuminate his face. Grindelwald stared. Then his expression changed. Recognition wasn't there, but shock was.
"Did Dumbledore send you?"
"He did not," Maurise answered, smiling pleasantly. "But perhaps we can postpone complicated political discussions for a few minutes." He reached into his pocket and produced a brightly colored paper bag. "I actually brought you a Christmas present."
Grindelwald said nothing. Maurise held out the package.
"I imagine prison life doesn't offer many seasonal celebrations. In case you weren't aware, today's Christmas."
The old wizard slowly lowered his eyes toward the colorful bag. Printed across the front were the familiar words: Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.
"They're fairly popular sweets," Maurise explained naturally. "I assumed luxury items are in rather short supply around here."
Grindelwald remained perfectly still. Then, without looking up, he said, "My teeth have fallen out."
Maurise blinked.
"If your purpose was to mock me," Grindelwald continued evenly, "you have succeeded."
'A complete misunderstanding.'
Maurise genuinely hadn't considered that possibility. An awkward smile spread across his face. "My apologies. That... completely escaped my mind." He smoothly put the jelly beans away before reaching into another pocket. "In that case..."
He produced a second packet. "Pear hard drops." He offered them with complete sincerity. "They dissolve slowly, so they shouldn't present the same difficulty."
Grindelwald stared at him for several long seconds. In all his years, he had met countless politicians, revolutionaries, generals, scholars, assassins, and dark wizards. Never someone quite like this.
"What," he asked at last, "is your true purpose here?"
This time he accepted the sweets. He unwrapped one carefully and placed it into his mouth. The sweetness lingered for several moments before the severe lines around his face softened ever so slightly.
Maurise tilted his head. "You truly don't recognize me?"
Grindelwald studied him in silence. Nearly ten seconds passed. "I have the distinct impression," he finally admitted, "that I have seen your face before."
"A hint." Maurise tapped thoughtfully against his chin. "Prophecy."
The old wizard frowned. His eyes narrowed as he searched through decades of memory. Watching him struggle, Maurise sighed softly. "That's the only hint you're getting."
For another few moments, Grindelwald remained silent. Then realization slowly spread across his face.
"That will suffice," he said, his voice becoming quieter. "I remember." He looked directly at Maurise. "I saw you once... within a prophecy."
"As expected," Maurise murmured, giving a small nod. So Professor Trelawney hadn't been speaking complete nonsense after all. His curiosity immediately took over. "What exactly did the prophecy say?"
"I assumed you already knew." Grindelwald regarded him calmly. "It described this very meeting."
Maurise blinked. "This meeting?"
The old wizard nodded. "A young boy stepping from the shadows, bearing Christmas gifts, standing before me." His voice remained steady. "Nothing more."
Maurise stared at him for a moment. "That's it?"
"That is the entirety of the prophecy."
Silence settled over the cell. Maurise scratched the side of his head. There was no reliable way to determine whether Grindelwald was telling the truth.
'I suppose I'll accept it for now.'
He was just about to steer the conversation toward the real reason for his visit when Grindelwald spoke first.
"You did not travel across half of Europe merely to give an old prisoner candy." His pale eyes rested steadily on Maurise. "You came here with a purpose."
"Naturally," Maurise answered without hesitation. "I certainly didn't come all this way just to celebrate Christmas."
A faint smile tugged at the corners of Grindelwald's mouth. "I appreciate honesty." He slowly leaned back into his chair. "So tell me. What is it you seek?"
Maurise walked over and sat on the edge of the stone bed. There was little point dancing around the subject.
"I recently stumbled into a rather unusual dimension." He folded his hands together. "For convenience, I've been calling it the Void. There is no sun, yet the entire sky remains illuminated. Thick white mist blankets everything. As far as I could tell, the landscape is nothing but an endless desert stretching in every direction." He paused briefly. "Except for one thing. A solitary wooden cabin standing in the exact center of that wasteland."
The old wizard listened without interrupting.
"The cabin was empty," Maurise continued, reaching into his robes to withdraw the faded photograph. "But I found this inside."
He handed it over. Grindelwald accepted it with noticeably trembling fingers. For a long moment, he simply stared. The photograph showed a young Gellert Grindelwald smiling confidently at the camera, full of youthful arrogance and boundless ambition. His thumb gently brushed across the worn edges.
"That..." His voice softened almost to a whisper. "...was a very long time ago. I cannot even remember precisely when it was taken. I was still very young."
Maurise watched him quietly before speaking again. "Then perhaps you can answer my question. What do you know about that place? That is why I came."
Grindelwald remained silent for several moments before leaning back once more. A calculating smile slowly appeared on his face. "And why," he asked, "should I answer you?"
Maurise felt a headache coming on.
'Stubborn old man.'
If Grindelwald refused outright, there was very little he could do. He wasn't about to torture an elderly prisoner. Nor was he willing to force his way into the man's mind.
'Respecting one's elders is still a basic principle.'
Letting out a resigned sigh, Maurise pointed toward the small bag of pear drops resting in Grindelwald's lap. "Perhaps because I brought you a Christmas present."
Grindelwald glanced down at the candy before looking back up. "What is your ultimate objective? Why pursue knowledge of this dimension?"
Maurise considered the question for a few seconds. "I don't have one."
Grindelwald raised an eyebrow.
"I mean exactly what I said," Maurise shrugged. "I'm simply curious. I want to understand why that cabin exists. Why your photograph was inside it. What kind of place the Void really is." He spread his hands. "There isn't some elaborate plan hidden behind all this. I just want answers."
For several seconds, Grindelwald remained perfectly still. Then a dry chuckle escaped him, the sound echoing softly around the lonely stone chamber.
"I like that answer." His smile became a little more genuine. "Most people who sought me out wanted power. Or secrets. Or victory. You merely seek understanding." He shook his head faintly. "I am an old man with one foot already in the grave. There is little left for me to protect."
He looked directly at Maurise. "Very well. We shall talk."
Maurise immediately straightened his posture. Every trace of casualness disappeared as he sat attentively, looking every bit the eager student waiting for a lecture to begin.
"I sincerely appreciate your willingness to help, sir."
Watching the legendary Dark Lord settle comfortably into his chair, Maurise couldn't help but arrive at an unexpected conclusion.
'Considering his reputation... he's surprisingly easy to talk to.'