RISE OF GRINDELWALD

For The Greater Good

June 1st, 1991, Austria.

A large old villa stood proudly on the shores of a Lake, its weathered blue-black walls adorned with intricate carvings that seemed to whisper tales of bygone eras.

As the morning sunlight streamed through a window, it illuminated the face of a teenage girl with long white hair and piercing blue and grey eyes. The soft glow accentuated the rugged lines of the villa's interior, casting a warm, golden hue over the room and creating a timeless ambience. She held in her hand a wand as she practised a spell.

A burst of green light shot out from her wand and struck a spider. She smiled as the creature ceased moving and perished.

Outside the room, the sound of footsteps reverberated against the walls.

An elegant young teen clad in a dark green robe appeared in the doorway. It was Vinda Rosier, a striking figure with jet-black hair that cascaded down her back, piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold an unspoken secret, and a regal demeanour that commanded attention and respect. As she enters the room, she is met with the piercing gaze of Guinevere Grindelwald.

"Do you not know how to knock?" Guinevere asked, her voice tinged with annoyance.

"I am sorry, my lady. It won't happen again," Vinda apologised, her head bowed in shame.

Guinevere let out a small sigh and stood up, a gentle smile gracing her lips. "No matter. We all make mistakes. Just be sure not to repeat it. Now then, tell me what you came here for?"

Vinda hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Your mother has requested your presence at the dinner table," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Lead the way," Guinevere said, her wand transforming into a delicate silver dragon ring as she followed Vinda out of her chambers adorned with ancient tapestries and mystical artefacts.

"How was your transfer to Hogwarts?" Guinevere asked, her voice echoing through the grand hallway filled with ornate portraits depicting wizards and witches engaged in animated conversations.

"It was alright," Vinda replied, her emerald green robes swishing as they walked. "I was placed in Slytherin, which I was hoping for, but I have to admit the pure-bloods are starting to get on my nerves with their continuous preaching about why their blood makes them superior to everyone else."

Guinevere chuckled softly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "They are misguided if they think their blood makes them magical. Even the most pure-blood family can produce a squib. In the face of magic, we are all equals, whether one is a pure-blood, a half-blood, or a muggle-born."

Their conversation gradually waned as they stepped into the elegantly adorned dining room. Guinevere's gaze immediately landed on her mother, Amélie, who sat gracefully at the table. Amélie appeared to be in her early thirties, her long, flowing blond hair cascading down her back, framing a face that was strikingly beautiful. Her piercing blue eyes glimmered with warmth, while her fair skin seemed to glisten softly in the candlelight. Dressed in a stunning blue Victorian gown, she exuded an air of elegance and poise.

"Hello, Mother," Guinevere greeted politely, her voice laced with affection. "You called for me?"

Amélie lifted her gaze, a gentle smile spreading across her lips as she gestured for her daughter to take a seat. "Do you know what today is?"