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[Hogwarts] Ch 131: Questers & Acolytes
🕑 Added 2025-08-07 19:25:08 +0000 UTC— — — — — —
The Deathly Hallows weren't just some fairytale—they were the stuff of legend, something countless wizards truly believed in. Those who dedicated their lives to seeking the three Hallows called themselves "Questers" and even created a symbol to represent them.
The sign of the Questers was made up of three distinct symbols, each representing one of the legendary Hallows.
The straight vertical line stood for the Elder Wand, the circle around it symbolized the Resurrection Stone, and the enclosing triangle represented the Cloak of Invisibility. Together, they formed the unified emblem of the Questers .
But by the time the 20th century rolled around, the term "Questers" had taken on an entirely different meaning.
Grindelwald adopted the Deathly Hallows symbol as the banner for his followers and called them Acolytes.
Even though the title "Acolytes" seemed to fade into the mists of history right now. Yet for many witches and wizards, it still stirred a deep, instinctive fear.
Compared to them, the Death Eaters sounded like child's play.
...
With that, the reason behind Newt's recent attack became painfully obvious.
When it came to Grindelwald's defeat, Dumbledore was culprit number one—and Newt Scamander was a close second. Everyone else didn't even crack the top ten.
Newt sighed. "Judging by your age, you weren't even around for the war. Why do you hate me so much... Who was your father?"
As soon as the man revealed himself to be one of the Acolytes, Tom silently opened his study space.
Almost at the same time, both the tied man and Grindelwald inside the space replied: "Simon MacDuff."
Newt took a moment to dig through his memory. Ah—he remembered. MacDuff had been one of Grindelwald's trusted aides, though not a key player. More like a second-stringer.
"I'm fairly sure your father didn't die during the war," Newt said.
"He died last year in the Bastille," MacDuff said darkly. "He was never the same after you ruined his great dream. You left him in despair. So tell me, why is the murderer still living so freely?"
"That's why I have to kill you—both for Lord Grindelwald and for my father!"
"All the ones who came with me today are descendants of the Acolytes, Newt Scamander. This blood feud between us will never end."
"I may have failed today, but I have a son. A daughter. They'll have their own children. Unless you die right here, right now, get ready for endless revenge from my bloodline."
MacDuff was shouting now, his eyes bloodshot with rage. He looked like he wanted to rip Newt apart with his bare hands.
Newt let out another long sigh.
This wasn't the first time someone from the Acolytes had come for him. But after he'd officially retired, the attacks had slowly stopped. He'd naively assumed the vendetta had ended.
Clearly, he'd been too optimistic.
Inside the space, Grindelwald finally spoke—his voice unusually weak, and tinged with something Tom had never heard before: guilt. Maybe even desperation.
"Tom… I failed them. This is on me. I hope you can… let them go this time. Make this gesture to them," he demonstrated something with his hand, "so they'll know not to come after Scamander again."
Tom didn't respond right away. He turned to Newt instead. "What do you want to do with him?"
Newt was quiet for a moment, then waved his hand. "Let them go."
MacDuff stared at him, dumbfounded. "You're… not going to kill me?"
Newt shook his head. "I've never killed anyone in my life. And honestly, there's no bad blood between you and me. Your grudge is with your father and me."
"As long as you don't come after my family, you can do whatever you want."
Despite their history, the Acolytes had always had a better reputation than the Death Eaters. The magical community across Europe was heavily interlinked—everyone was someone's cousin—so they tended to keep grudges focused on individuals rather than their families.
That's why Newt's children and grandchildren had been able to travel freely around the world without ever running into trouble from the Acolytes.
Even MacDuff had said the feud would end with Newt's death. He'd never even mentioned Tina.
And then something even more surprising happened.
Tom stepped back, made a strange gesture with his hand, and before MacDuff could react, an overwhelming wave of magical pressure crushed down on him—like a mental hammer.
MacDuff understood the warning in Tom's eyes loud and clear.
Once he was sure MacDuff wouldn't say anything foolish, Tom said, "Well, this is your business, Newt. Let's just leave him here. He's not our concern anymore."
Newt nodded in agreement. Then calmly began packing away the other magical creatures into his suitcase.
"..."
MacDuff just stood there, dazed, even after his restraints were removed.
"Tom, let's go."
"Coming!"
Tom brushed past MacDuff without a second glance, then flew straight to Newt's side without even needing a broom.
It wasn't until the two were completely gone that MacDuff finally lifted his trembling, scorched hand.
On the back of it, like a burn, a message had been seared into his skin—short, simple, and written in German: {20. August, Paris.}
---
Back in the air, as they flew toward the Thunderbird's sanctuary, Tom said to Grindelwald in the study space, "You saw that, didn't you? That's the kind of man Newt is."
"Honestly, I didn't even need to say anything. He was never going to kill him."
Grindelwald let out a long, weary breath. "Even though we were enemies… I have to admit… Scamander is a good man. The kind of good I could never get along with."
People like Newt and Dumbledore had their own kind of charisma. Even those who stood against them couldn't help but admire them.
Unfortunately, the Shameless Boy— aka Tom—was still seriously lacking in that department.
Tom glanced at the system panel. Grindelwald's favorability had shot up to 75. Clearly, MacDuff's outburst had really shaken him.
Tom was starting to suspect that Grindelwald was now seriously considering a comeback—just to help out the descendants of his old comrades.
— — —
The whole trip back, Newt remained unusually silent.
When they finally reached the tent and Tom was about to go in, Newt suddenly stopped him.
"You're not going to ask me anything?"
Tom tilted his head. "Uh, Newt, sir… I mean, I've got a lot of questions. But I figured you might not want to talk, so I was just gonna let it go."
Total lie.
The truth was, Tom didn't think there was anything all that complicated about the situation. And besides, he still had another person involved in this mess sitting in his study space. Whether he asked Newt or not didn't really matter.
But he could tell that Newt wanted to talk. So Tom went along with it.
They walked together to the edge of a nearby cliff. Newt stared up at the stars, his voice soft.
"You didn't seem surprised when I mentioned Grindelwald and the Acolytes. Guess that means you already know a bit about them, huh?"
Tom nodded. "Read a little about them in the history books. But this is the first time I've actually run into them. I mean, Grindelwald's been defeated for fifty years—hard to believe there are still people trying to avenge him. But why come after you instead of Dumbledore?"
Newt's expression twisted strangely. "Dumbledore… I doubt even back when Grindelwald was still free that some of the Acolytes had the guts to go after him."
He paused for a second, then added, "Besides… Grindelwald and I have crossed paths a few times."
"A few times? You dealt with me for nearly twenty years! You didn't even sleep with your wife that often!" Inside the study space, Grindelwald exploded.
Andros, lounging nearby with a smug grin and munching metaphorical popcorn, was enjoying the gossip more than anything he'd experienced in life.
"..."
Newt's eyes stayed fixed on the night sky, as if he could still see that white-haired, arrogant man in his mind. "He had… charisma. The world he painted—a future where wizards ruled—it made a lot of people believe. Wizards were lining up to follow him."
"And he really worked for it, too. He fought hard for that dream. But in the end, what he wanted would've cost too many innocent lives. So Dumbledore turned to me—a loner with a few talents—to deal with him."
"'A few talents,' huh…" Tom thought back to earlier—just a handful of magical creatures had completely dismantled eight decently-trained wizards. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. It didn't even compare to the miniature world Newt kept at home.
Not to mention the creatures he'd released into the wild over the years...
Tom shivered. He'd rather take on a Dark wizard than get on the bad side of someone like Newt. Beast tamers were a nightmare to deal with.
"Actually…" Newt suddenly lowered his voice, like he was afraid someone might be eavesdropping. "The first time I ran into Grindelwald was in New York. Dumbledore had sent me there—or, well, nudged me into rescuing Frank. I had to take him home."
"At that time, Grindelwald was already impersonating Percival Graves, the Director of Magical Security. Tina and I happened to catch him, and we brought him in. But for safety reasons, we never made that public."
"He's lying! Slander, all of it!" Inside the study space, Grindelwald was frantically trying to defend himself while Andros sat beside him, eating up the drama.
"They didn't catch me! I let them catch me! Big difference."
"It was all part of the plan, don't you see? I was infiltrating MACUSA—charming their people from the inside! And it worked!"
"Uh-huh, sure." Andros gave a half-hearted nod. "So, getting arrested was part of the plan?"
Grindelwald looked like he was going to pass out from rage. "You don't get it! Letting them take me lowered their guard! You muscle-brained brute—always thinking everything can be solved with spells! You know nothing about the human heart!"
"Sure, sure."
"Damn you!"
Tom ignored the bickering old men. He was genuinely surprised. "Wait… you captured Grindelwald? That guy's supposed to be on the same level as Dumbledore!"
Newt smiled awkwardly. "It was more… a bunch of coincidences lining up. I could tell Graves really didn't like me, even though we'd never met before. Later, when his identity was exposed, it all made sense..."
He suddenly stopped mid-sentence. He realized if he kept talking, it would veer into topics Tom was too young to hear—stuff involving Dumbledore, adult matters best left unsaid.
"Just don't tell anyone about this, alright? I only wanted you to understand why the Acolytes are targeting me. They're after me specifically. You won't be dragged into it. Don't worry."
"I get it," Tom nodded.
Not that he was worried about the Acolytes attacking him. He was just worried there weren't enough of them to make things interesting.
"But with everything you've done, it's kind of a shame no one knows about it," Tom said, fanning the flames just a little.
Newt chuckled. "Once Grindelwald's really gone, I'll write a memoir. Tell the whole story."
In the study space, Grindelwald nearly fainted from rage.
"MF! Backstabber! It's been decades and you're still planning to drag my name through the mud?! You're in your nineties, what makes you so sure you'll outlive me?!"
Now fully aware of Newt's plans, Grindelwald swore to himself—no matter what it took, he'd use Dark Magic to extend his life. He refused to die before that old man.
"I think you're giving him too much credit," Tom said casually. "He's just a washed-up old man in a cell. No reason to hold back. You should write it now—publish while it still matters."
From Tom's perspective, if Voldemort hadn't shown up later, Grindelwald could've easily lived another twenty or thirty years. And Tom was desperate to know what happened after Bhutan.
Grindelwald would just rewrite history to make himself look good. But Newt? A good Hufflepuff—his version had to be the most trustworthy.
Newt shook his head quickly. "No… you must never underestimate Grindelwald. He escaped from MACUSA's prison. If he ever gets out of Nurmengard… if we push him too far, he won't just come for me—the whole of Europe could be thrown into chaos."
"Alright then, it's getting late. Go get some rest." And with that, Newt dusted himself off and headed back.
Tom sighed regretfully, then returned to his own tent.
As soon as he stepped into the study space, he was met with the sight of Grindelwald sitting there, murder in his eyes—not just directed at Newt, but even at him.
When Tom explained it had just been a joke, Grindelwald reluctantly calmed down.
"Tom, next time you run into MacDuff in August, try to learn more about the Acolytes. And if you can… help them out a little."
.
.
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