Obscure Occurrences |C. BAREBONE|

☛ Forty-Eight ☚

• August, 1927 •

The amphitheatre roared with life. All around the three was curious but cautious, excited but composed wizards. Nevertheless, they were all still prepared for a fight. That was clear when Genevieve noticed the masked Acolytes stewarding the crowd. They knew what they were doing and in that moment, the wizards breathing breath into the atmosphere were only rowdy animals.

Nagini was just like the former wizards, curious yet cautious but cautious most of all. From what she could sense, the atmosphere was heavy with darkness, intimidating as wizards continued to move deeper into the auditorium. These were the people that asked for her transformation, for her torment. She wondered how Credence and Genevieve could stand it. And she knew how once she turned her head toward the couple. Upon their faces, it was clear they were basking in their surroundings. Credence was awestruck while Genevieve appeared to look as if she had made it home after a long journey. After all, unknown to Nagini, she used to frequent rallies such as this a year ago.

"They're Purebloods. They kill the likes of us for sport" she tried to say, attempting to talk some sense into the two but they didn't see her reason. They were entranced (or so it seemed).

"Don't look so suspicious Nagini-" Genevieve suggested as she clutched Nagini's hand over Credence's lap, "- we'll get caught".

"I don't see why we're even here; we might as well leave" the maledictus murmured.

"If you don't want to be here, fine! But I'm staying... Credence?" Genevieve questioned, silently asking for his answer.

"J-Just for a few minutes".

And with that, a smirk curled on Genevieve's lips that Nagini had never witnessed before. It was evil, it bled from Genevieve's past life.

"Oh look!-" a woman suddenly exclaimed from behind them, "- look! It's Grindlewald".

Genevieve's heart had never beat so fast. Her body was humming with nostalgia and glee as the dark wizard strode onstage, strolling right into everyone's gaze as they erupted into raw hysteria. Like untameable dogs starved of food, they bowled as if they had finally set their eyes upon meat. They are completely drunk on delirium while Grindlewald just stood there before them all. A savage frenzy the audience were.

As the audience bellowed, Nagini shrank further into herself, trusting no one as Credence leaned in close to the stage, his mind transfixed as Genevieve seemed to whisper in his ear. Like a puppet master, she controlled him and forced his eyes to peer into her world. This was the euphoria she felt and she wanted to share it with Credence. As his black orbs remained trained on the dark wizard, Genevieve ran her fingers idly over the Obscurial's nape, she created an innocent sensation of pleasure as she rested her cheek on her edge of her lover's shoulder.

They were lovers. They loved one another... In their own ways at least. And Credence would do anything if Genevieve would be there beside him.

"My brothers, my sisters, my friends-" Grindlewald greeted grandly, "- the great gift of your applause is not for me... No. It is for yourselves".

At the short announcement, the crowd immediately clapped toward the dark wizard's words. They paid no mind to the infiltration of strangers.

"You came today because of a craving and a knowledge that the old ways serve us no longer... You come today because you crave something new, something different".

At these words, Credence listened intently. This time, without Genevieve closing his mind off to outside disturbances.

"It is said that I hate Les Non-Magiques. The Muggles-" Genevieve smiled, "- The No-Maj. the Can't-Spells-"

The confession of this generates a vibration of hissed from the majority of the crowd. They surely did not like this statement. Then again, the majority of the crowd couldn't see reason and surely didn't possess common sense. After all, how would wizards be superior with nothing to be inferior? How could there be a winner without a loser?

He disbanded the noise was a single raise of his hand:

Wait, listen it spoke.

"I do not hate them. I do not. For I do not fight out of hatred. I say the Muggles are not lesser, but other. Not worthless, but if other value. Not disposable, but of a different disposition"...

A pause. A long, tense pause.

"Magic blooms only in rare souls. It is granted to those who live for higher things. Oh, and what a world we could make, for all of humanity. We who live for freedom-", Genevieve's heart swelled with hope, "- for truth and for love... The moment has come to share my vision of the future that awaits if we do not rise up and take our rightful place in the world".

That's when a woman appeared, elegant and beautiful and fuller. Genevieve wanted Oh-so badly to be that woman: plump and mature in disposition.

Total silence drowned the auditorium while the woman approached Grindlewald. And in her hands, sat an illuminated skull, mesmerising in its disturbing form. From it, Grindlewald inhaled deeply through a long tube, the long intake was heard in an echo as his eyes rolled back before he... Exhaled.

It was breathtaking. Before the crowd a great, technicolour cloak seemed to curl from his lips and ascend into the high, stone ceiling sitting above them. And soon enough, it bore images that forced the crowd to gasp in complete and utter horror.

Death and destruction plagued the scene of smoke. It echoed of a thousand men marching into hell, their feet uncomfortable in hard, booted shoes. They were running with guns, shooting bullets intending to kill, dreadful explosions which caused Genevieve -even her- to flinch into Credence's side at the sight. She was soaked in fear.

"That is what we are fighting!-" Grindlewald roared from the fright, "- That is the enemy - their arrogance, their power, lust, their... Barbarity-" he spat tamely, "- How long will it take before they turn their weapons on us?".

The pause after his short-lived speech left the audience on the edge of their seats, anticipating some new revelation as they hung from Grindlewald's words. They mistook the venom for honey.

"Do nothing when I speak of this. You just remain calm and contain your emotions-" Grindlewald advised, "- there are Aurors here among us".

Gasps erupted from the crowd. Heads turned in fear to capture said Aurors looking around them in alarm. Against the coliseum of Grindlewald's followers they were largely outnumbered... And the crowd was slowly heating up with hostility.

Grindlewald still, however, beckoned them forward. He allowed their brothers to come closer into his rally. He was showing them mercy. But, one Auror -too jumpy, too agitated- noticed a single red-headed witch twirling her wand slightly between her fingers. She was radiating a fury that shook him. Her eyes spoke unforgivable spells.

"They have killed many of my followers, it is true-" Grindlewald informed, as if goading his followers' dimmed anger to manifest, "- They caught and tortured me in New York. They had struck down their fellow witches and wizards for the simple crime of seeking truth, for wanting freedom..."

Credence and Genevieve both nodded unconsciously at this statement. But, he was only playing on the unstable witch's growing frustration. Therefore, the young Auror raised his wand in defense; he feared her anger would become physical, that she would pounce, that she would-

"Your anger, your desire for revenge... Is natural" Grindlewald reassured.

That's when it finally happened, the red-headed witch whipped her wand toward the young Auror but... He cursed first... Not the witch. So there she fell beside her friends, dead and cold.

"No!".

Screams filled the auditorium so suddenly as the Acolytes' leader ascended the stairs to reach the passed, red-headed witch. He held her with such false care it nearly fooled Newt- even Tina! Yet still, they couldn't believe it. Even as the dark wizard asked her friends to take the warrior home to her family.

"Disapparate. Leave. Go forth from this place and spread the word: it is not we who are violent" Grindlewald announced, his voice a façade of hurt.

From there. Genevieve knew war had begun. And she secretly lived for it.