Pity the Living ♔ Tom Riddle

11 || Dusk

Christmas Day, 1936.

Durmstrang Institute.

Gisela

It was Christmas Day 1936; the great lake of Durmstrang had frozen over completely, the mountains looking down upon it now covered in thick powdery snow, and the winter sky created a white-out across the school's grounds that prevented the students from exiting the castle. Gisela had awoken at the brink of dawn, as usual, enjoying the silence of the library at such an early hour, empty of any chattering students. Gisela was the only first-year student who remained at the castle over the holidays, everyone else returning to their homeland for Christmas celebrations - including Olga. She was thankful for their absence, however, as it gave her time to wander the castle exploring its abandoned classrooms and empty corridors, or make conversation with the oldest of paintings.

Tensions had been growing in the Muggle world and were beginning to worry even the Magical community. King Edward VIII had abdicated after less than a year of being in power, all for some Muggle American divorce. Many German student's younger brothers living in the Muggle world had now been forced into joining the Hitler Youth, and the Nazis were increasing conscription, trapping many half-blood wizards who were not protected by the Wizarding Communities secrecy like most Purebloods. The behaviour of the Nazis had only increased the support for Grindelwald, with many Wizards fearing for their children's lives at the prediction of an upcoming war. Suddenly, the dark Wizard's ideas were becoming more and more rational in the minds of paranoid parents.

Once Gisela finished her morning routine, she headed to her uncle's office in the tallest turret of the castle. After a long climb, she opened the door without knocking; her uncle now used to her barging in when she wanted to hide from her classmates on, particularly bad days.

"Hello niece, Merry Christmas!" he smiled, leaning back on his chair, dressed in a uniform she had not seen him in for months; the defining red swastika armband illuminated in the dimly lit room.

"Uncle, why are you wearing that uniform?" she frowned, rubbing the velvet of her cloak between her fingers.

"I was off on some business - a side job of mine. I mentioned on our journey earlier this year that I am infiltrating the Nazis, did I not?"

"You did, but you didn't tell me why," she responded, rather concerned.

"To make sure we are always two steps ahead of the Nazis," he stated.

"And on whose behalf are you doing this?" she inquired.

"I am doing this for my cousin," he muttered, much quieter than more.

"You're working for him? Why on earth would you prefer Gellert Grindelwald over a bunch of Muggles?" she exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock at the revelation.

"If you think Gellert is worse than Hitler than you are very misinformed," he said, his demeanour far darker than it had ever been before, putting Gisela on edge. "I would far rather my delusional cousin rule the world in a heartbeat than let that bastard rule Germany for a second longer."

Gisela watched as he gripped the edge of his chair, his jaw tighten with anxiousness and his foot tap the floor to restrain himself from exploding in anger. It reminded her of Tom when Amy Benson would tease her in the courtyard, or the matron refused to give her more food.

"I don't see what's so horribly wrong with the Nazis. I didn't see any starving children on our way to Berlin, unlike where I'm from," she frowned, confused at her Uncle's reaction.

"Gisela," he sighed, leaning forward, rubbing his fingers over his forehead in frustration, "it as not as simple as starving children. You have no idea how dangerous the ideals of the National Socialists are, and how many people have suffered and will continue to suffer under this regime. Do not underestimate what these people are capable of."