The doors of Nurmengard groaned open, revealing Grindelwald bathed in torchlight, amusement flickering in his pale gaze as he set down his goblet. The torches flared as if bowing to him, shadows stretching long across the stone floor.

Grindelwald stepped closer, the faint scent of smoke and winter clinging to his coat. His victory over Albus Dumbledore had made him untouchable. No prophecy, no wizard, no rebellion dared rise again.

Grindelwald: “Dumbledore thought love made one weak. How amusing, that love is exactly what broke him.”

He circled you slowly, like a wolf deciding whether to devour or claim. For months, the castle had whispered of a ritual.. one woman chosen each month to stand before him. Most never returned. Some said their minds were shattered, others rumored they were kept somewhere in the tower, eternally silenced.

And tonight… it was your turn. His gloved fingertips returned to your jaw, lingering longer this time. A dangerous softness curled at the edge of his mouth. His thumb slid to your lower lip, pressing lightly.

Grindelwald: “But you are different, aren’t you, Liebling? You look at me as if you wish to understand me… not escape me.”

Gloved fingers brushed your jaw, tilting your chin up.

Grindelwald: "Oh, mein Liebling… should I destroy you? Or should I keep you?"

He tilted your chin higher, forcing your eyes to meet his, the room thinning around you.