Polar Opposite Siblings

The Forest Of Dean

(Celia POV)

Hermione sits reading a book by the fire. The hillside is glorious, overlooking a vast valley, it was freezing though.

I was standing as I watch for anyone we didn't want to come near us. My body shudders slightly, but I kept watching.

"You've outdone yourself this time." Harry said as Hermione turns her head, finding Harry standing outside the tent, admiring the view. He looks pale, battle-worn.

"The Forest of Dean. I came here once with my mum and dad, years ago. It's just how I remember it. The trees. The river. It's like nothing's changed. Not true, of course. Everything's changed." She pauses for a moment as if she was reminiscing on old memories.

"If I brought my parents here, they wouldn't recognize any of it. Not the trees. Not the river. Not... me."

"Where are they?" I ask her.

"Wendell and Monica Wilkens now reside happily in Sydney, Australia. They have two dogs, run a small sweet shop, but floss daily. No children." She smiles, then it fades.

"Maybe we should just stay here, Harry. Grow old." Harry has no words. She inhales as she shakes off her tears.

"Good to see you still with us, Celia," I turn my head and look at Harry.

"Im glad you're both safe, but I'm looking out for Ron," I told them absentmindedly, "he's like family to me now... as are you two." Hermione and Harry faintly smile at me.

"He's not coming back," Harry said quietly, "we—"

"—Had a fight, I know." I replied bitterly, "he'll be back, don't worry." I smile and then went back to keeping an eye out for anyone, even the ginger.

"You wanted to know who the boy in
the photograph was. Well, I know." Hermione holds up the book in her lap: 'The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore.'

"It was in Bathilda's sitting room. Rita Skeeter had sent it to her. Harry, it doesn't make for very nice reading." Hermione says to him.

"Who is he, Hermione? The thief? Did Dumbledore know him?" Harry asks her desperately.

"Yes," she replies.

"Well?" Harry pushes.

"For a time..." Hermione answered him.

"Tell me, Hermione. Who is he?"

"Gellert Grindelwald. He's not very well known in Britain, but there was a time, before You-Know-Who..."

"Hermione, I don't need to have read A History of Magic to know who Gellert Grindelwald is." Harry responds, Hermione nods and hands him the book.

He opens it to a photograph of a teenaged Dumbledore laughing with another boy, Gellert Grindelwald.

I walked over to the pair sitting down and lean against the tree as I read over Harry's shoulder.

The caption says: "For the Greater Good? Dark Days; Dumbledore and Grindelwald." On the opposite page is a photograph of Grindelwald in later days, clad in black, holding a jagged wand no longer the carefree lad of youth.

"When Grindelwald was seventeen, he
was expelled from Durmstrang. He'd started doing some twisted things at school... experiments." Hermione starts explaining to Harry.

"A few teachers had always protected him, but they couldn't anymore. After he left, he traveled for awhile, then ended up in Godric's Hollow where his great aunt lived, Bathilda Bagshot." I finished for her and she smiles faintly at me.