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Chapter 60: Prison Talk
🕑 Added 2025-02-25 22:00:05 +0000 UTC[-]-[P]-[W]-[M]-[-]
Reality: Potter Verse
Nurmengard Castle
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“Bwahahahahaha!”
Inside the enchanted stone walls of Nurmengard Castle, hysterical laughter echoed through the dimly lit cell. Gellert Grindelwald sat doubled over on his simple cot shaking with laughter, so much that tears streamed down his face as he clutched his stomach, gasping for breath between his fits.
“Oh, mein freund,” he wheezed, barely able to contain himself. “The boy just essentially walked into your office while treating your wards like they were paper, took the Elder Wand through sheer force, and then left — just like that?!” He threw his head back and laughed harder. “And what did you do? Did you try and talk him out of it? Oh, no — no, you didn’t quite have the time, did you? And you thought the lack of time to talk was the biggest problem? Hahahaha!”
On the other side of the cell, Dumbledore sat stiffly in his chair, unimpressed. “It is not a laughing matter, Gellert,” he said firmly, with his expressionless piercing blue eyes remaining on Grindelwald’s uncharacteristically animated form. “And I would appreciate it if you could remain focused for the duration of our conversation.”
Grindelwald slowly began to collect himself, wiping away the tears of laughter from his eyes as he straightened up. He let out a final chuckle before exhaling deeply as he turned to face the chessboard between them, a smirk lingering on his face. “Ah, but truly, Albus, it is quite the spectacle. If nothing else, the boy certainly has style. Yet another accolade to be added to his growing list of accomplishments — look at all he has done up until now at the age of twelve for goodness sake.”
Dumbledore ignored the comment as he slightly straightened his posture, wandlessly moving a piece across the chessboard. Grindelwald tilted his head, watching the move carefully. Then, with a slow nod, he reached out with his own wandless magic, causing an animated knight to glide forward smoothly, upset at being moved without being given the chance to do so itself with a simple verbal order. A thoughtful silence stretched between them before Grindelwald finally leaned forward to speak, with something dangerous admiration gleaming in his sharp eyes.
“The boy’s visions,” he murmured, though his voice still carried to the Headmaster's ears as if he were standing right next to him and not a few feet away. “They are significantly more accurate than any I have ever heard of.” He tapped a finger against the edge of the table. “And the fact that he can feel the emotions of those within them… now that is both a gift and a curse. I could have certainly used that well half a century ago — people are more likely to join a cause when they feel the pains of those they could be saving.”
Dumbledore’s fingers curled slightly against the armrest of his chair as he listened closely with an unreadable expression. Grindelwald smirked knowingly, watching the reaction before shifting his gaze back to the chessboard, caressing his chin thoughtfully as he scrutinized the pieces as if their game mirrored reality. Then, with a slow and deliberate move, he made his play.
“You remember don’t you, Albus?” He mused with a small, thin smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “The visions I started my war for?”
Dumbledore remained silent as Grindelwald exhaled, shoulders sagging. “The things I saw — the atrocities.” He growled in a low voice, tinged with haunted sadness. “Muggles forcing innocent children to dig their own graves… half-burying them… and then stoning them to death — all because of a single, uncontrolled flicker of magic. Magic they should have been celebrating, knowing they could attend schools many don’t get the chance to and see creatures beyond their wildest dreams.”
Dumbledore’s lips pressed into a thin line, but his gaze softened slightly as his old friend let out a humourless chuckle. “The monsters of my time, Albus, did not wear masks. They did not hide behind forbidden curses — they killed in broad daylight, with rocks and hatred. Some even falsely use religion to have others do their dirty work for them, not that I was surprised when I noticed — many people have also tried to use other’s beliefs to convince them to perform atrocities throughout time.”
Silence stretched between them once more. Then, softly, Dumbledore gave his old friend a small, sad smile — but he did not speak. He had seen what they did in the muggle World War 2 after all, and was both surprised and disappointed to see that it wasn’t even caused by his friend's machinations. So, knowing the muggles he had saved all those decades ago from a war with Witches and Wizards ended up doing the very crimes his friend had seen, only to each other instead, he had nothing to say.
Grindelwald’s intense gaze found Dumbledore’s once more, but now there was no laughter — only contemplation. “I can almost confirm the boy felt everything in that vision he showed you — it’s the only way he could have transferred the vision along with the emotions behind it. He felt your failure — the pain others will feel when things go wrong — all the suffering… at the age of twelve. Ritual and Occlumency or not.” He leaned back slightly, watching Dumbledore closely. “And yet, he still did not kill you.”
A knowing smirk flickered across his lips as he continued. “That… is a sign that he has not yet gone too far in any direction just yet.” Grindelwald studied his old friend’s expression before he smirked. “So, tell me, in that vision of yours… did you truly see Riddle kill me?”
Dumbledore’s blue eyes darkened slightly. “I did.” Grindelwald remained still, watching his old friend intently. Dumbledore continued in a quieter tone, “Riddle killed you after torturing you for information. By the looks of it, he wanted something from you — something he didn’t get before he got… tired of you.”
A thoughtful hum escaped Grindelwald as he reached out with magic, shifting a bishop across the board. “Then,” he mused, “that means Grey will be coming here at some point — he knows where it is and that I’m important enough for Riddle to come here himself, even if he already has the thing Riddle was after.”
Dumbledore blinked, sitting straighter as he immediately understood what Grindelwald was implying. “You think he’ll come here to recruit you.”
Grindelwald chuckled, though there was no mockery in his voice this time — only calm certainty. “Not necessarily,” he admitted. “He is already powerful enough, either through magic or political power, that he doesn’t need me for anything.” His eyes gleamed with interest. “But what he would like from me to make things easier — are any connections I may be able to provide. And you and I both know that Magical Europe is a chessboard all on its own.”
Dumbledore tilted his head slightly, considering the words. “And yet,” he said carefully, “you don’t believe the boy will break you out — make it public he has you working for him.”
Grindelwald grinned, moving another piece. “The boy is far too intelligent for that, and also not a politician.” He tapped his fingers against the table. “He’ll know I could leave anytime I wished and only stay here because I choose to.”
Dumbledore inhaled slowly but didn’t deny it. He had long suspected that Nurmengard had never truly been much of a prison for Grindelwald. For years, he had watched, waiting for the moment when Grindelwald would make a move, maybe even use his connections to make life difficult for his political career. And yet he never did.
They continued their game in silence, each move more calculated than the last, until Dumbledore found himself staring at the board when he realised he was outplayed. He tried to see other paths to winning the game but found nothing, causing Grindelwald to let out a low chuckle as he shifted another piece into position. “Ah, you see it now. Checkmate in seven. Give or take a few moves as you prolong your defeat — unless you go for a stalemate.”
Dumbledore sighed, rubbing his temple before offering a small, tired smile. “I concede the match, Gellert.”
“Of course you do,” Grindelwald said with a smirk.
“Regardless,” Dumbledore ignored the jab. “I will do my best to steer the Ministry, lords and Ladies toward making decisions that will keep them out of danger when the fighting starts.”
Grindelwald’s smirk faded as his gaze sharpened. “Tell me,” he drawled. “Who are you keeping them safe from exactly? Grey, or Riddle?”
Dumbledore exhaled deeply. “Both. The boy may be well intentioned, but he is not perfect — no one is.”
Grindelwald clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Then you are a fool and a hypocrite.” Dumbledore’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Grindelwald powered forward. “You should do nothing to get between those who go against the boy.” He warned. “If you do, it will only seem as if you are against saving lives and ending the conflict as quickly as possible — as if you are standing in the way of change, desperately clinging to your status quo, as you did in the visions. No doubt you have already heard this from the old French couple. You need to let the dragon conquer when it's doing so for the right reasons.”
Unlike some of his people thought's, he was never after the Flamel's for their stone. He had too much respect for them for that, especially considering they created the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic to keep magicals safe from persecution.
Dumbledore frowned but didn’t interrupt as Grindelwald’s smirk returned. “Sometimes, you need to stop playing the passive nice guy and start taking people down — you of all people know that. You may have forgotten, Albus, but I know how this game is played.”
Dumbledore took a slow breath before replying. “I will not be too adamant about it,” he admitted. “But I will ensure that they do not make uninformed or misguided decisions that will let others perish with them.”
As he spoke, a familiar glint of deadly determination flickered in his eyes — one Grindelwald had not seen in decades. A spark of defiance. A glimmer of the man he once knew. Grindelwald’s smirk softened into something almost fond. “It’s truly good to see the real you again, Albus… It's been decades.”
Dumbledore exhaled quietly, allowing himself the smallest smile in return. For a moment, they were no longer two rivals playing chess. For a moment, they were simply Albus and Gellert once more. Making plans to keep the world safe for Witches and Wizards to live. Only this time it was not to start a war like they did when they were teenagers, but to keep innocent people out of the way when it was started by others.
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Reality: Star Wars
Johnathan Grey
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[Enchanted Beskar Dagger - Magical Item]
[Description: An enchanted Beskar Dagger designed precisely like the Deadric dagger from the Elder Scrolls universe. It was created by a master blacksmith, Johnathan Grey, by applying the Dragon Silver method — which was adapted from the process of creating Goblin Silver of the Potter Verse — onto Beskar from the Star Wars universe. The Beskar allows for greater durability than regular alloys like steel with the same enchantment.]
[+Absorbs that which strengthens it] [+Basilisk venom damage]
[+Highly durable] [+Repels mundane dirt] [+Retains its lustre]
[+Withstand lightsabre stikes] [+Withstand blaster bolts]
Holding the freshly forged Enchanted Beskar Dagger, I inspected the flawlessly crafted, rippled silvery metal, watching how the dim light gleamed off it. Aside from something like Valerian Steel, I don’t remember any other metal having a similar aesthetic. As soon as I got to the clearing in the forest, I started adding it to every part of the ship I could, panel by panel. And when I was one I moved to doing the same with my Infamous Armour.
Now I was fully decked out in armour that would probably have Madalorian's throwing hands on sight, but I wasn’t worried in the slightest. Satisfied, I placed the dagger in the [Hoard] and started making my way out of the briefcase, only for a pixy-sized hologram of Cortana to blink into existence in front of me.
“Boss,” she said. “The Queen, the Jedi, and their entourage are heading toward the ship. Seems like the Palace Hangar is still being targeted by the droids as a priority. Unfortunately, the one you asked me to keep an eye out for is also with them — directing them here.”
Fuck… Jar-Jar’s coming too.
I could already sense them approaching the ship as I strode toward the already opening entrance of the ship, my white Jedi robes flowing as my helmet formed over my head. By the time the ‘Queen’, Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, Jar-Jar, Panaka, R2 and several handmaidens including Padme reached the ship, I was already standing at the entrance, waiting. Before the Queen could even open her mouth to speak, I cut her off.
“I’ll be heading to Tatooine first,” I stated flatly in my suit’s usual deep baritone voice, with my white visors sweeping across the group. “Then, I’ll drop you all off wherever you need to be.”
The moment seemed to tense as the group caught their breath, with a furrowed brow Qui-Gon stepping forward. “We need to reach Coruscant as quickly as possible,” he said evenly, eyeing my ship and armour but not commenting on it as he spoke. “We can’t afford a detour.”
My gaze snapped toward the disguised Padme before looking back toward the Jedi Master. “I warned the Queen this would happen,” I said, disapprovingly. “She did little to prepare.” I let my words settle before continuing, “And her lack of preparation will not hinder my own plans. This is my ship, and I have things to do. If I were you, I would be grateful to have volunteered to help at all.”
Padme, at the very least, looked thoroughly disappointed in herself already, so I saw no reason to start verbally ripping into her for now. Both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan frowned, clearly uncomfortable with my response, but it was the ‘Queen’ — Sabe — who took a step forward to respond.
“Regardless,” she said, keeping her voice diplomatic. “We are grateful for your willingness to assist us in reaching Coruscant.” She inclined her head respectfully. “And the sooner you handle your business, the sooner we can be on our way. Or we may even get a ship to bring us to Curosant while you conduct your work on Tatooine.”
I studied her for a few seconds before giving a small nod of acknowledgement, knowing full well their credits would not be accepted on Tatooine and that they would have to wait until I was done. “Hm.”
Turning on my heel, I gestured toward the open ship ramp. “Well, let’s get to it,” I said, before giving Jar-Jar a look as I continued. “Be sure not to mess with anything. Misbehaviour will not be tolerated.”
Jar-Jar actually had the gall to look around, confused as to why I was looking at him, which caused both Jedi to shake their heads in exasperation, having no doubt dealt with him enough on their way here.
The group wasted no time, quickly boarding as the ramp closed behind them. Making my way to the bridge with the group following behind, I took a seat in the captain’s chair, letting the others to find their seats in the other available seats. The bridge was enlarged, so it was large enough for everyone to sit comfortably in a seat of their own, but there was also a briefcase off to the side in case they wanted to wait there instead.
“The jump for Tatooine has already been set, boss. All systems are green.” Cortana’s blue hologram voiced as the ship’s engines hummed to life, with the group standing in awe at the sheer technological advancements surrounding them. The bridge’s sleek interior, the holographic interface displays, and the complexity of the ship’s systems were unlike anything any of them had ever seen, so it was no surprise most of them were gawking despite the fire situation.
I could see Qui-Gon Jinn’s eyes flickered across the intricate designs of the ship, from the advanced control panels to Cortana’s hologram. His expression remained calm, but I could feel his curiosity beneath the surface.
“I did not realize the Order had a ship like this at their disposal, Master,” Qui-Gon remarked as he studied the unfamiliar components around him.
“I never joined, nor have I ever been affiliated with the Jedi Order,” I told the man as I manoeuvred the ship to ascend, glancing in the ‘queen’ and her entourage’s direction. “People just tend to assume I am a Jedi because I can use the Force. Your Order is rather famous for its force users, after all.”
A notable pause filled the room as Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon exchanged surprised glances, while the ship continued its slow and steady ascent, now reaching about a hundred feet off the ground.
“I hope this ship is good enough to get past the blockade,” Captain Panaka, arms crossed, eyed the external monitors showing the Naboo skies. “I can see that it's advanced, but it's an entire planetary blockade up there.” He gestured toward the screens, displaying the Trade Federation’s Lucrehulk-class battleships, with their weapon systems primed. “They seem well-equipped to deal with any ship trying to leave the surface.”
I merely shook my head lightly, knowing those ships couldn’t even pick up my ship due to its advanced stealth tech. “We won’t have to deal with the blockade.”
Before anyone could question me, I activated the ship’s Slip-Space Drive — and the space ahead of us neatly tore open in a perfect circle, leading directly to another part of the galaxy. The moment we went through, we emerged on the other side with the desert planet of Tatooine visible just below us, the wormhole closing behind.
Guiding the ship toward Mos Espa, Panaka’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What in the Force was that?” He asked — the question no doubt on all of their minds.
I didn’t even glance away from the planet. “Slip-Space travel,” I told the captain nonchalantly as if it were nothing special, fighting the urge the tell the Force to relax as it kept dancing around me again. “We’ll be in Mos Espa in a few seconds. I head out, grab what I need and we’ll be off to Curosant if you guys still want me to give you a ride.”
Qui-Gon, now more visibly intrigued, crossed his arms and started caressing his beard. “Slip-Space,” he repeated. “It sounds like hyperspace, but it is clearly something… different.”
Seeing all of them now looking my way, I humoured them. “It’s a long story,” I admitted. “But it involves a lot of mathematical calculations — essentially, we squeeze through space to travel from one location to another instantly thanks to some very accurate and complex calculations that would take me a long time to explain.”
Qui-Gon nodded slowly, deep in thought, while Obi-Wan surprisingly kept his mouth shut with his brow furrowed as he tried to process the concept. It was a little odd seeing a quiet Obi-Wan, but I had no doubt he’d start snarking now and again soon enough. The ship descended smoothly, breaking through Tatooine’s dusty atmosphere before setting down just outside Mos Espa as the twin suns harshly bathed the desert landscape.
As the landing ramp lowered, I rose to my feet before turning to address the group, gesturing toward the briefcase sitting off to the side. “If you need food or want to get some rest, everything you need is in there. I’ll be heading out now. I’ll be back soon.”
I wasn't afraid of them stealing or tampering with the ship — they couldn’t even if they tried, so leaving them here on their own was fine. By the time I was near the ramp, the disguised Padme was already walking alongside me.
“I’d like to come with you,” she said, with a hint of nervousness. “If possible, we can procure alternate transport to Coruscant while in the city — should your own task take you a while to complete.”
I simply shrugged. “Do what you want, I’ll only be here for an hour or two. Even it you were to get transport, it would take you a few hours to get to Curosant. Whereas my ship would only take a mere moment.”
Padme glanced at Qui-Gon, who studied me for a moment before turning to Sabe in her Queen disguise. “I will accompany them while my apprentice stays with the ship,” he said, gesturing to Obi-Wan who nodded in acknowledgement. “We may find alternative transport if the situation allows. There is always a chance his plans take longer than he would like — it would be good to have all bases covered.”
The ‘Queen’ nodded graciously, keeping up her regal façade. “Thank you for your assistance, Master Jedi. May the Force guide your path.”
With that, Qui-Gon, Padme, Jar-Jar, and R2 followed me down the ramp, stepping onto the dry, sandy earth of the barren planet. Before leaving, I raised a hand, dropping two golems at the ship’s entrance — each standing at attention with their massive shields in hand and swords embedded in the ground before them.
The group stared with some confusion and mild discomfort with the Jedi and Captain exchanging uneasy glances, clearly wary of the silent moving rocks. I could even feel Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan feeling them out with the Force.
“What… are they?” Captain Panaka finally asked, eyeing the guardians with his hand close to his holster.
“Guards… for my ship.” I didn’t break stride as I walked ahead. “This planet is full of slavery, villainy and scum.”
“Slavery?” I heard Padme muttered to herself as she tilted her head in confusion, reminding me that she wasn't aware slavery was still going on just because the Republic outlawed it. Her words went ignored, mostly due to how quiet it was, but I caught a glimpse of Qui-Gon sending her a glance, indicating he heard her too and decided to leave her to see it for herself.
I got a few step away from the ship before I stopped, turning to the Jedi and Padme to give them a disappointed look they couldn’t see under my mask — but I made sure the Jedi could feel it in the Force, before asking, “Now, can any of you tell me why you were willing to get on my ship, let me take you to a completely different planet, and not a single person has asked me to identify myself to make sure I'm not affiliated with the Trade Federation?”
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"Mesa cause one, two-y little bitty axadentes, huh? Yud say boom de gasser, den crashin der bosses heyblibber, den banished."
—Jar Jar Binks.
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Hello There
Yeah, Gellert saw visions of magicals getting brutalised is one of the reasons why he started his war — at least in this fic anyway. I always preferred back stories like that for him over the 'just want to rule the world' ones. He’s still not a good guy or anything, just more complex I guess. Episode 1 should only take another chapter or two before John heads back to the Potter Verse. He’ll be back, but I'm thinking of starting the Potter Verse world tour.
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Disclaimer: I own nothing except my OC and original ideas. All credit goes to their respective owners.
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Thank you for reading.
As always, stay awesome.
Until next time, Light's out.
Comments
LothWolf
Agreed she deserves better
LothWolf
Thanks for the chapter 👍😁❤️ you know I hope that one day John gets the ability to have someone (grindelwald and or dumbledore just to see their reactions) go through what the Ancient One/Yao did to Dr.Strange to introduce him to Magic and the Multiverse/Omniverse https://youtu.be/FkXlKQS5Elo?si=Az1pcZ1BMAlHLlSV
Lightest_Reader
Shmi didn't deserve her fate😔
Alex Delgado
Please take the mom as well as his brother
