Burned Into Glory

Exciting

He'd kissed her.

On the forehead, but still. Queenie sat in her bathtub the night after it had happened, and she let her toes curl. She squeezed her eyes shut and squealed quietly. The water was starting to go cold. She didn't care.

Was this a betrayal of Jacob, she wondered? No, she thought. It was Jacob who had betrayed her, staring at her, bug-eyed, yelling that she was crazy. He had betrayed them both. He had betrayed what could have been.

Gellert Grindelwald was a strange-looking man, Queenie thought absently. He had one pale eye with a scarlet circumference, and another eye black as pitch. His hair was so blond it was nearly white. His skin was pale and waxy. He was... off, in a way. And yet, there was something so intoxicating about him. Every time Queenie was near him, she felt like she'd had far too much Giggle Water. He smelled like the ocean. He radiated power. There was something comforting about him, and something deeply, pervasively sexual. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but he had an allure that she couldn't ignore.

So to be kissed by him - even on the forehead - was something that Queenie Goldstein was going to relive over and over in her mind even as the bath water went chilly. Finally, she decided to reach for her wand and Vanish all the water from the tub, and as she toweled off, she studied her body, staring down at herself.

What did he think of her, she wondered? She was slim and young and shapely; did he care? Vinda Rosier was even more statuesque. Vinda had a beautiful face. And there were handsome wizards around. Maybe Grindelwald preferred them. There were rumours. Maybe he'd just kissed Queenie's forehead in a fatherly sort of way, the way a guardian would do to bid goodnight to his ward.

Queenie yanked on a short white nightgown, and then she pulled on her heavy velvet dressing-gown, the plum-coloured one that Vinda's ancient seamstress had made for her. It felt luxurious on and weighed a tonne, and Queenie adored wearing it so much that she frequently found herself making excuses to put it on. Tonight she tied the velvet dressing-gown and slid her feet into the matching velvet slippers, and she opened the door of her quarters.

She looked left, then right, then left again, then right again, and once she was very sure that the corridor outside her rooms was empty, she padded with her wand in her hand across the marble floor and down a flight of stairs. She reached an open vestibule that led out to the main balcony, and she pushed open the door.

The night air was crisp and cool, and there was a steady breeze coming from between the mountains. Queenie shut her eyes and breathed in deeply, smelling flowers from the hillsides and the harsh bite of snow. She walked slowly out toward the edge of the balcony, and then she heard a voice from behind her.

"Enjoying the night air?"

Queenie whirled around to see Gellert Grindelwald striding toward her in black flannel pyjamas and an elegant black silk robe. He smirked at her as she ogled him, and then she gulped and gazed up toward the sky.

"I never saw this many stars in New York," she said rather helplessly.

"Ah, but there was much you did not see in New York," replied Grindelwald, and Queenie smiled up at the thousands of twinkling dots in the sky.

"Yeah," she murmured. "I guess that's true."

Grindelwald just stood there then as Queenie stared at the sky, and finally she asked him,

"How did you know I was out here, sir?"

"We all have our own ways of sensing things, don't we, Queenie?" he replied cryptically. She lowered her gaze to him and noted,

"I never thought my Legilimency would be anything but a bother."

His white-blond eyebrows raised. "Your gift is invaluable to our cause. I find you to be indispensable, Queenie."