— — — — — —
Barty's pupils shrank. He lowered his head, falling into strained silence.
"Look up. If you hate me so much, why don't you have the guts to even look me in the eyes?"
Grindelwald's voice was lazy, almost bored. Barty's head was yanked up by force until their eyes met.
Grindelwald nodded, satisfied. There was something in the boy's gaze he liked. Wild, like a wolf.
If he could tame him, he'd make for a sharp and pliant blade. Any dirty or exhausting job could be handed over to him without a second thought.
"My child, let's talk about your father first."
Barty let out a sharp laugh. "I don't have a father. That hypocrite threw me in Azkaban with his own hands. He only got me out because of my mother's dying wish. Then he chained me up like a dog to rot in a bedroom and then…"
His smile twisted into something more mocking. "Wait... he never used the Imperius Curse on a dog. Hahaha—"
"Then go die," Grindelwald replied, playing idly with his fingers. "Hurry up and end your pathetic life. What are you waiting for? I'm sure you'll find the opportunity."
"No. I can't die. My master is still waiting for me."
"Heh." Grindelwald raised his brows, his eyes carrying a flicker of pity. "Child, you can't fool me. In all these years, have you really spent your time thinking about your master? Maybe a little. But that's not why you cling to life. The real reason is… that your life was bought with your mother's."
Barty, who had stood up at some point, instinctively shuffled back two steps. Panic flickered across his face.
Grindelwald stripped him bare. No disguise could stop that piercing gaze that cut straight into the deepest, most guarded place in his heart.
He could easily discard his father. From the moment he was born, he'd felt no love from Crouch. But his mother… was different.
That woman had given him everything. She cried herself sick when he was thrown into Azkaban, fell gravely ill, and even with death looming, still fought to grant him what little freedom she could.
In Barty's heart, even Voldemort couldn't compete with his mother.
Seeing that reaction, Grindelwald's smile grew wider.
"That is why I appreciate you. Why I want to pull you out of that cesspit Voldemort crawls in. Because there is love in you."
"L-Love?"
Barty quickly regained his composure, like he'd heard the most ridiculous joke imaginable. "A Dark Lord talking to a Death Eater about love?"
"So shallow," Grindelwald sighed, disappointed in his ignorance. "Dark Wizard, Dark Lord—those labels are what others use to describe the methods we employ on the way to our goals."
"My ideal is simple. I want to abolish the Statute of Secrecy, let wizards live in the open, allow those with ability to take the place they deserve. No more being shackled by the Ministry or the International Confederation. The strong should rule the world."
"That is love. Only overwhelming emotion can forge truly great wizards. Your father, Crouch? He lacks that. Which is why he is a failure, both as a man and in his career."
Barty didn't know where to even begin arguing back.
These past days with Grindelwald, he'd met many of the so-called Acolytes. The feeling they gave off… was nothing like Death Eaters. Half the time he couldn't even tell they were dark wizards. Some were half-bloods. Some were Muggle-born.
"You just want to win me over so the old man will devote himself to serving you," Barty said stiffly. He knew about the deal between Grindelwald and his father.
Submission gained through lies doesn't last long. Once the mask cracks, the backlash only grows. So from the start, Grindelwald never hid his intentions.
This time was no exception.
"That's right."
Grindelwald admitted it openly. "Your father is a failure, but right now he's more useful than you. That's a fact. This is a game of pieces on a board, and I favor those with capability."
"As long as you work for me, one day your status will surpass his."
Barty laughed coldly. "Work for you? I already said I serve only my master."
"No. You have only ever served yourself." Grindelwald placed a hand on his shoulder. His voice was quiet, yet heavy with temptation. "And I am offering you a chance. Follow me, unleash the violence you've buried for years, and watch how I make your so-called master dance like a dog in my hands."
Barty opened his mouth to object, but Grindelwald cut him off with a raised hand.
"Don't be so quick to refuse. You've lived like a rat for so long you probably don't even know what you truly think anymore."
"Go see the world. Britain is too small, and the boy you once were was just as small. You didn't understand what real fatherly devotion looks like, and you had no idea how laughable Voldemort really is, how shallow your worldview was."
"I'm giving you a task."
He grasped Barty's wrist. When he released it, a silver bracelet was locked around it, and a slip of paper was pressed into his palm.
"There are some restless individuals plotting against me. Here are three targets. Not many. I'm sure you can handle them."
Barty lifted the bracelet and gave it a mocking shake. "This to keep me on a leash?"
"Of course. Until you've fully matured, I need to keep an eye on you."
In the end, Barty couldn't refuse the temptation of moving freely again, so he accepted the mission that felt suspiciously like a test.
Grindelwald summoned two Acolytes to escort him away for medical care.
From the study space, Tom had watched the entire exchange from start to finish and couldn't help admiring him. "Old G, that mouth of yours could talk the dead back to life."
Andros nodded. "That kid already took the bait. Gellert, don't tell me all your subordinates were tricked into joining like that."
Barty hadn't promised anything on the surface and even walked away with his freedom. Looked like he'd gotten the better end of the deal.
But he'd already stepped into Grindelwald's trap. He'd begun thinking along Grindelwald's lines and even agreed to eliminate rivals for him.
The bridge of communication was built. It wouldn't take long before Grindelwald slowly rewired his worldview. With someone as unhinged as Barty, once he snapped to the other side, he'd go from Voldemort fanatic to Grindelwald fanatic without a second thought…
"What do you mean tricked?" Grindelwald scoffed, irritated by their teasing. "I'm helping the poor boy."
"Hmph! Barty's problem is simple. He lacks love. He longs for a proper father figure, and Voldemort just happened to fill that void. He was the one tricking Barty Jr."
"Ohhh! So you plan to be his dad?" Andros asked.
Grindelwald rolled his eyes. "I'll be your dad instead!"
While Grindelwald and Andros went to duel, Tom didn't follow to watch the show. He joined the rest of the school in the Great Hall for the end-of-year feast.
He suddenly felt a little bad for next year's students.
Barty wouldn't get the chance to attack and impersonate Moody anymore. Say what you want about him, but as a teacher, Barty was pretty good. Out of the seven Defense Against the Dark Arts professors in the original timeline, he was probably the most competent. He actually taught.
The real Moody might not even measure up. Not because Moody was weaker, but because Moody's mind was unstable. Nobody knew what he'd decide to teach on any given day.
...
And as always, the Great Hall was draped in Slytherin's annual silver-and-green theme. The other Houses were numb to it by now.
With Tom around, they didn't even bother fighting for the House Cup anymore. It wasn't possible to win.
The Slytherins themselves weren't even excited about yet another victory. Everyone looked calm, though still quietly pleased.
The noisy hall suddenly dimmed in volume as the professors filed in through the side door.
"Hm?"
Tom hadn't been paying much attention, but when he saw Dumbledore, he froze for half a second. Then a slow smile spread across his face.
So, Professor… you finally couldn't resist.
The old wizard still looked energetic and sharp. Even McGonagall and Snape, who knew him best, didn't notice anything unusual.
But Tom did.
There was a faint but unmistakable purity to the phoenix bloodline now flowing through Dumbledore.
After awakening the ancient phoenix bloodline in himself, Tom gained the ability to sense vitality. Old Dumbles, strong as he was, still carried the scent of decline and twilight.
But now, while not brimming with youth, his life force had steadied. Like a healthy man in his forties. Past his peak, perhaps, but stable and solid.
Of course, the most important change wasn't his body, but his resolve.
For years he'd longed for death, longing for that next great adventure. Tom had given him the bloodline fusion potion two and a half months ago. He honestly thought Dumbledore would never take it. Turns out he just needed time to think.
Things were about to get interesting.
Tom's grin widened.
A wizard whose body returns to its prime and whose spirit no longer withers will only grow stronger than ever.
Voldemort was in for a rough future.
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T/N: There will be a mass release in the next update.