Burned Into Glory

Gifts

Queenie looked around the blue bedroom in the London safe house. This was the bedroom where Grindelwald had taken her virginity, the space where they'd first seen one another naked and he'd very gently made love to her. She got a little emotional, remembering the way he'd been so careful not to hurt her, using an Allevio Charm and making her finish with a spell so that she enjoyed herself.

"Are you ready, Queenie?" came a voice from the door. Queenie turned round to see Vinda in a black silk kimono-style wrap dress, a pointed hat perched upon her head. She looked very pretty, but incredibly understated. Queenie looked down at herself and asked,

"Is this too much?"

She'd worn a gold flapper-style dress, with beads and sequins, along with Champagne-coloured satin gloves to her elbows and tan t-straps. She had a glittering gold clip in her hair, and her platinum and diamond pendant shone around her neck. She was a sparkly monstrosity compared to Vinda's sheer elegance. But Vinda insisted,

"You are the sister of the bride. And you are Queenie Grindelwald. You look perfect."

"You sure?" Queenie asked her friend, and Vinda stepped into the blue room. She said softly,

"Queenie, you know that if he were here, he would tell you that you looked like a dream. In those words, non? Isn't that what he tells you."

"Yeah." Queenie grinned and felt her cheeks go warm. She stared at the ground and scuffed her heeled shoe a little. "He does say that."

"I wish I could send him a photograph of you," Vinda said, reaching to tuck a bit of Queenie's hair behind her ear. "He would be so jealous that he is not here."

"Well, I don't want to make him jealous," Queenie said, rolling her eyes. She glanced out the bedroom and whispered, "Are you going to dance with Klaus tonight?"

Vinda hesitated. "I don't know if we'll dance. We aren't exactly wanted at this wedding. We are here to ensure that nothing goes wrong. Klaus and I know our duty. We are not here to party."

That explained the solemn, simple dress, then. Queenie nodded.

"Well, remember what Gellert told me. When - not if - Albus Dumbledore wants to speak with me, we have to let him speak with me alone."

He'd also said, Don't let him try to convince you that what we are doing is wicked, Queenie; what we are doing is for the Greater Good. He once believed it, too, and then was lost.

"Are you ready to go?" Vinda asked again, and Queenie nodded. She and Vinda walked out into the corridor and down the stairs, down into the parlour to where Klaus Reiner stood very patiently waiting. He raised his eyebrows when he saw Queenie in her sparkling gold dress, but his gaze quickly settled on Vinda, and it was obvious even through his German thoughts that he found Vinda absolutely beautiful.

The three of them Apparated to the Ashwinder, which was a popular event space in Kensington, off the beaten track of wizarding London. This was where many London witches and wizards held their handfastings and receptions, for it was a dining room and ballroom on the third floor of a multi-use No-Maj building. Witches and wizards entered the Ashwinder by climbing a hidden flight of stairs and ascending six flights to the third floor, which sounded like a contradiction but was the magic in action.

Now Queenie climbed and found herself winded at the top of the sixth flight of stairs. She turned to Vinda and huffed,

"This is a ridiculous way... to get to... a wedding."

"It certainly is interesting," said Vinda, sounding remarkably unaffected by all the climbing. She opened the door marked The Ashwinder and stepped inside, and Queenie and Klaus followed her. They stepped into a Classically decorated space, with crystal chandeliers and mirrors and portraits on the papered walls. There were tables set up for the reception, and there were rows of chairs and an aisle at the front of the large room where the ceremony would be taking place. Vinda, Queenie, and Klaus moved into the room and each got themselves some wine. Queenie could feel dozens of eyes on her, and suddenly she was hit with a barrage of English-language thoughts about her.