When two worlds collide.

Non-corporal.

Hermione holds up the book in her lap: The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.

"It was in Bathilda's sitting room. Rita Skeeter had sent it to her. Alex, it doesn't make for very nice reading-" Hermione looks at me carefully.

"Who is he, Hermione? The thief? Did Dumbledore know him?" I question. "Tell me, Hermione. Who is he?"

"Gellert Grindelwald. He's not very well known in Britain, but there was a time, before You-Know- Who..." She clears her throat.

"Hermione, I don't need to have read A History of Magic to know who Gellert Grindelwald is." I roll my eyes.

Hermione nods before giving me the book, opened to a photograph of a teenaged dumbledore laughing with another boy. Gellert Grindelwald. The caption reads, "For the Greater Good? Dark Days; Dumbledore and Grindelwald."

On the opposite page is a photograph of Grindelwald in later days, clad in black, holding a jagged wand, no longer the carefree lad of youth.

"When Grindelwald was seventeen, he was expelled from Durmstrang. He'd started doing some twisted things at school...experiments. A few teachers had always protected him, but they couldn't anymore. After he left, he traveled for awhile, then ended up in Godric's Hollow where his great aunt lived, Bathilda Bagshot. She introduced him to Dumbledore. It made sense. Dumbledore's mother had just died Grindelwald was troubled and they were both brilliant they'd never really had anyone they could talk to on the same level. They did a lot of talking that summer. But they always returned to one particular subject." She explains.

I look up at her.

"Wizard rule over Muggles." She states.

"And Dumbledore believed in it?" I raise my brow, earning a nod from Hermione.

I glance at the picture again. "..'For the Greater Good.' What does that mean?"

"It was something Dumbledore came up with. He believed wizards were superior and should rule over Muggles, but gently, for their own good. Grindelwald took a more violent position."

I shake my head in disappointment.

"It was a different time, Alex. It was one summer. Dumbledore was young-" She starts.

"We're young, Hermione. And here we are, risking our lives to fight against the very thing Dumbledore supported!" I scoff.

"He changed, Alex. Years later, it was Dumbledore who put Grindelwald in prison." She sighs.

I stare at the photograph of the laughing thief one last moment, before throwing the book away.

"Where's my wand? I'll take the watch." I stand up.

Hermione hesitates. Her expression makes me apprehensive.

"Hermione. Where's my wand?" I hold my hand out in front of me.

She points. There, lying by the fire, is a shattered stick. I picks it up gently, seeing that it is nearly severed in two. One fragile strand of phoenix feather holds it together.

"It's my fault. As we were leaving Godric's Hollow, I cast a curse and it rebounded... I'm sorry, Alex, I tried to mend it but wands are different-" She panics.

"It's done." I run my hand through my hair.

"Maybe we can- you don't need it anyways." She tries to reassure me.

"Dumbledore gave me that as a gift, Hermione." I drag in my breath. "Just leave me yours. You get back in the warm. And give me that." I gesture to the locket.