Hadrian Potter: The Dark Lord of House Azaroth

Chapter 5

Harry stared at Bellatrix, his heart racing. "Grindelwald was killed by Voldemort years ago," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. The idea that the infamous Dark Lord could still be alive felt impossible. But then again, nothing in the wizarding world was ever truly impossible.

Bellatrix grinned, her eyes gleaming with that familiar glint of mischief and malice. "That's what everyone thinks," she said, her voice low and conspiratorial. "But no, Potter. Voldemort didn't kill Grindelwald. He shattered the old man's mind, crippled him, yes, but kill him? No. He ordered Lucius to hide Grindelwald's body in Azkaban, to make the world believe he was dead."

Harry's pulse quickened. "But why? Why bring him up now?"

"Because, Potter," Bellatrix said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, "you healed me. You fixed what the Dark Lord broke in my mind. And if you can do that... you can heal him. Grindelwald was once the most powerful dark wizard in the world—more powerful even than Dumbledore. Imagine what he could teach you, what he could help you uncover about this... new magic you possess."

Harry took a step back, his thoughts spinning. Heal Grindelwald? The very thought of it sent chills down his spine. He had read about Grindelwald's atrocities, about the horrors he had unleashed on the world before his defeat. But now... Harry couldn't deny the curiosity tugging at him. Could Grindelwald hold the answers to this strange new magic?

"I don't know if I can do it," Harry admitted, his voice wavering. "I barely knew what I was doing with you."

Bellatrix's lips curled into a knowing smile. "You'll figure it out. You're the Boy Who Lived, after all. And Grindelwald—he's ancient. Older, wiser, and more powerful than even Dumbledore. If anyone can help you, it's him."

Harry hesitated, glancing down the corridor of Azkaban. The stone walls loomed like shadows, and there was a suffocating stillness in the air. He could barely hear the distant howl of the wind or the sea crashing against the cliffs below. Every instinct in him screamed that this was dangerous, reckless, but something deeper—something primal—urged him forward.

"Alright," Harry finally said, his voice firm with resolve. "How do I get into his cell?"

Bellatrix grinned, pleased with his decision. She gestured toward the bars of their cell door, pointing toward a darkened cell a few yards down the corridor. "There. He's just down the hall, locked away so deep even the guards don't bother with him anymore. You'll need to figure out how to get us there."

Harry leaned closer to the bars, peering through the dim light. He could make out the faint silhouette of another prisoner, motionless on the stone floor. His heart pounded in his chest. Could Grindelwald really still be alive?

"There's no guard," Harry muttered, thinking aloud. He closed his eyes, focusing on the cell ahead of him. He pictured himself inside it, standing next to the frail, broken form of Grindelwald. The magic inside him stirred, not in the chaotic way it had before but with a calm, deliberate warmth. He felt something shift—a bend in reality itself—and then—

Suddenly, Harry was standing in another cell. Bellatrix, who had been gripping his arm, stumbled beside him, her eyes wide with shock.

"You... you Apparated us!" she gasped, her voice filled with awe. "But it felt... different. Not like normal Apparition, more like... reality shifting."

Harry grinned, exhilarated. "Warping," he said, the word coming to him instinctively. "I'll call it Warping."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes, but there was a spark of excitement in them. "Always have to name everything, don't you?"

Ignoring her, Harry turned his attention to the figure on the floor. Grindelwald lay there, his body frail and twisted, his skin pale and ashen. His once powerful form had withered into a shadow of what it had been. The infamous dark wizard who had once terrorized Europe now looked more like a broken old man left to rot in a forgotten cell.

Harry felt a lump rise in his throat as he knelt beside Grindelwald. He hesitated, unsure of what to do next. "I don't know how to do this," he whispered, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"You didn't know how to fix me either," Bellatrix said softly, standing just behind him. "But you did."

Harry nodded, swallowing his fear. He closed his eyes, placing his hand gently on Grindelwald's chest. This time, instead of imagining the man's mind simply mending itself, Harry focused on something deeper—on restoring him to his former glory. He pictured Grindelwald not as the broken man before him, but as the towering figure from history: powerful, cunning, and feared.

The warm magic inside Harry stirred once more, flowing through his arm and into Grindelwald. This time, it wasn't just a gentle current; it was a surge, like a river of light pouring out of him. Grindelwald's body jerked violently, his chest heaving as though struggling to take in breath. Harry's heart pounded in his ears as he watched the old man's form begin to change.

Grindelwald's skin seemed to glow faintly, the wrinkles and lines smoothing out. His brittle hair darkened and thickened, the years of wear and decay reversing before Harry's eyes. His limbs straightened, his frail body slowly regaining its strength and vitality. Bellatrix watched in awe as the transformation unfolded, her eyes wide with astonishment.

Suddenly, Grindelwald let out a loud, gasping breath, his body convulsing. His eyes snapped open, one glowing white and the other a sharp, piercing hazel. He sat up with a violent jerk, a deep, guttural laugh rumbling from his chest.

"I'm back!" Grindelwald roared, his voice booming through the cell. His laughter echoed off the stone walls, loud and manic, filled with power and triumph. "After all these years... I am finally back!"

Harry stumbled back, breathing heavily, staring in shock at the newly restored figure before him. This wasn't the broken man he had seen lying on the floor just moments ago—this was Gellert Grindelwald in his prime. His presence was overwhelming, radiating a sense of dark power that made the air feel thick and heavy.

Grindelwald stood slowly, testing his limbs, stretching as though he hadn't moved in centuries. He turned his gaze on Harry, his mismatched eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. "You," he said, his voice dripping with curiosity and amusement. "You are the one who has freed me."

Harry nodded, his throat dry. "Yes... I—"

Grindelwald's laugh cut him off, sharp and piercing. "How extraordinary! You possess a magic I have anly seen once before." His eyes narrowed, studying Harry with a predatory gleam. "What a gift you've given me, boy. I thank you for bringing back this old fool to his old glory."