DISCLAIMER: Nothing's mine, okaaaaaaaay? All J.K. Rowling. Not me. Don't sue.
SUMMARY: Albus Dumbledore may come off as a gentle, harmless old wizard, but occasionally, a glimpse of his other side is seen, the side of him that will do whatever it takes to stop his enemies and protect his friends, as we saw in the last few chapters of the fourth book. This side of him is revealed in full one day in 1945, when he succeeds in tracking down his arch-nemesis, Grindelwald, and he has no choice but to kill or be killed. Our hero survives the encounter, of course, but just barely...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The dark side is calling... my dark side, that is. To soften it up a bit, I threw in a little bit of AD/MM for all you shippers out there... you're the only ones that read my stories anyway. *laughs* And yes, I do have a thing with decapitation (and Macbeth), and all the decapitation stuff has something to do with Grindelwald. (hmm... okay, I'll just stop now before I give away the entire story) Also, in case you were wondering, this story is completely independent from my other Grindelwald-era fic, 'Obsessions' (even though Armando Dippet dies in this one, too, and almost the same way, though not quite as horrible). And I don't know if they had heart rate monitors in 1945... pretend for me, okay? ^_^ That's it. On with the show.
~~~
"... with his brandished steel
Which smoked with bloody execution
Like valor's minion
Carved out his passage till he faced the slave
Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him
Till he unseamed him from the nave to th' chops
And fixed his head upon our battlements."
- Captain, from 'Macbeth' by William Shakespeare
~~~
"Crucio."
Nothing could prepare Minerva McGonagall for the suffering she was about to endure. As soon as the word left Xavier Grindelwald's lips, pain shot through her body, overloading her senses and flooding her mind. It was as if her internal organs exploded and her skin was the only thing holding her together, as if she was burning and freezing at the same time, as if each bone was being broken with a hammer, one by one. The pain was blinding, and even though she couldn't see Grindelwald, she knew he was smiling, laughing, enjoying seeing her suffer. She tried to fight it, but the curse was too powerful for the eighteen-year-old witch-in-training, and her pain only became greater.
She could not hold in the forming scream for long, and when it emerged from her flaming vocal cords, it was drowned out by the cries of the dozens of Muggles fleeing from the wizard torturing the young woman in the underground subway station. Grindelwald had abducted her and taken her here in hopes of luring his enemy into his perfectly laid trap. Albus Dumbledore hadn't appeared yet, but Grindelwald was fully confident that he would take the bait. It was only a matter of time.
Grindelwald released Minerva from the Cruciatus Curse, and allowed a few seconds of recovery before speaking to her. "Where is he?"
Minerva coughed, and tasted warm, salty blood in her mouth. "You're not going to win," she told him. Blood trickled out of her mouth and dripped into the ground, leaving dark red stains on the cold concrete below her. "Professor Dumbledore would never fall for a trap so completely obvious."
"Tell me, Minerva," Grindelwald said, "do you call him 'Professor Dumbledore' when he's got his arms around you at night?"
So he knew she was having an affair with her teacher. They hadn't done anything close to what Grindelwald was implying, but the fact that he knew was enough. "Couldn't say," she said. "Haven't had the chance."
"Pity you never will. Crucio."
The pain hit her again. This time, it felt like someone was taking a scalpel to her skin and peeling it off layer by layer. She felt sick. Her stomach muscles contracted, and when Grindelwald released the curse, a combination of vomit and blood came spewing out her mouth. She knew the Cruciatus Curse couldn't kill, but she still felt more dead than alive.
"Blood?" Grindelwald said with sarcastic curiosity. "What's this? We shouldn't be seeing any of that. Why are you coughing up blood, Minerva?" A cruel smile crossed his face as he "remembered". "Oh, that's right. I broke your ribs."
Yes, he had broken her ribs, three of them, to be exact; right before he raped her to put her in so much pain that fighting back would be virtually impossible. "Fuck you," she hissed, and sent a mixture of saliva and blood flying in his direction.
"Later," he said, and hit her with another round of the Cruciatus Curse.
~~~
Half a block away, Albus Dumbledore was racing frantically through the streets of London. Grindelwald had Minerva. He knew she was bait for him, but there was no way he was going to let her die. If saving her meant walking into a trap, then that was what he was going to do. Grindelwald's fight was with him. He would pay for bringing her into this.
Suddenly, a sound caught Dumbledore's ear: the sound of dozens of people screaming in terror. Hoping that it might lead him to Grindelwald, he began running in the direction of the sound. Soon, he was able to see what it was, and it was a horde of people stumbling over themselves to get out of a subway. "You there!" Dumbledore shouted to one of the outgoing men. "What's going on down there?"
The man, his face sweaty from fear, struggled to form words, but no sounds came out. That, however, was enough for Dumbledore. "Thank you," he said, and dashed toward the subway.
Getting to the stairs leading into the subway was easier said than done. Human judgement was impaired when afraid, and these people were terrified. Dumbledore noticed the body of a child that had been knocked over and trampled in all the commotion lying on the ground, but he had no time to feel any remorse. He forced his way past the frenzied mob, ignoring their screams, tears, and the warning from one man still coherent enough to tell him not to go down there. If Grindelwald was down there, he was not going to escape.
"Grindelwald!" he shouted down into the subway, pushing people out of his way. "If you're down there, don't expect to come out again!"
~~~
Dumbledore's voice echoed through the man-made cave of steel and concrete, causing Grindelwald to lose his focus and release Minerva from the Cruciatus Curse sooner than he planned. "Dear me," Grindelwald said, glancing toward the exit. "Could that be Professor Pedophile coming to rescue his little whore?"
"Don't ever call him that, you sick bastard," Minerva said through clenched teeth. "You don't know him or me."
Grindelwald looked uninterested, even bored with what she had to say. "Whatever," he said dismissively, and pointed his wand at the exit. A yellow beam shot out from the end, hitting the roof and causing rubble to block the stairs leading down to their position. "That should stop him for a while, eh?"
~~~
Dumbledore stopped running and lifted his arms to shield himself from the falling debris. A piece of rock hit his arm, and when the sting passed, he felt warm blood trickling down his arm. He took a few steps back, and pressing his hand to the wound to stop the bleeding, he assessed the situation. Grindelwald had to be down there. He doubted anything else would have caused the roof of the subway to cave in. Getting in by means of the stairs was out of the question, so he moved on to his next option: Apparition.
~~~
"EXPELLIARMUS!!!"
Grindelwald was about to subject Minerva to the Cruciatus Curse again when an enraged voice shouted that word. A blast of red light hit him, causing him to drop his wand and fall over backwards. Grindelwald's eyes fell upon the wizard who had attacked him, and a cruel smile worked its way across his face as he recognized him. "About time," he sneered.
Dumbledore kept his wand pointed at Grindelwald. "You're not escaping this time," he said, his eyes burning like blue fire.
"Of course I'm not," Grindelwald replied. His hand slowly reached out and retreived his wand. "You're going to let me go."
"And why," Dumbledore said, "would I let you go?"
Grindelwald reached into his robes, pulled out a knife, stood up, seized Minerva, and held the steel blade to her throat. "Because if you don't, Minerva McGonagall makes an even twenty."
Grindelwald had decapitated nineteen people since his reign of terror started a few months ago, including Armando Dippet, the headmaster of Hogwarts, and David Embry, the Minister of Magic, as well as his parents and people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Don't do it, Xavier," Dumbledore said. "Your fight is with me."
"My fight is with the entire wizarding world," Grindelwald replied. "You're just another obstacle standing in my way, just like she is." He guided the blade of the knife over the delicate skin of Minerva's neck, cutting just deep enough to make blood trickle out. Dumbledore prepared to shout another disarming spell, but before he could, Grindelwald said, "Put the wand down, Albus, or I kill her right now."
"Don't listen to him!" Minerva shouted. "Kill him! Kill both of us if you have to!"
Grindelwald chuckled. "Isn't she noble?"
Dumbledore took a few deep breaths to steady his racing heart. "If I put my wand down," he said, "will you let her go?"
Grindelwald shrugged. "Why not?"
Dumbledore knelt down, placed his wand on the ground, then held up his hands as he rose to his feet to show Grindelwald that they were empty.
"Very good," Grindelwald said. "Now, what was it you wanted me to do?"
"Liar!" Dumbledore cried, and reached for his wand. Before he could get it, though, Grindelwald cast a Summoning Charm, and Dumbledore's wand flew into his hands. Dumbledore felt like an idiot. He should have known Grindelwald wouldn't play by the rules. Defeating Grindelwald was going to be hard enough as it was. Now he had to figure out how to do it without a wand.
"You're weaponless, Albus," Grindelwald observed, putting the knife back into a pocket inside his robes. "I wonder if I can cast the Cruciatus Curse with two wands?"
"You're not going to find out," Minerva said, and elbowed him in the chest.
Grindelwald wasn't expecting to get hit, and she nailed him so hard that it knocked the wind out of him. In the process, he dropped Dumbledore's wand. "Bitch," he hissed, and pushed her to the ground. She landed hard, and coughed up blood upon impact. Her broken ribs were tearing into her lung tissue, and every breath was difficult and painful.
Dumbledore could see that Minerva was in a lot more pain than could be expected from a cut and a fall, and he wondered what sort of cruel torture Grindelwald performed on her before his arrival. "What did you do to her?"
"Oh, nothing," Grindelwald replied. "A few broken ribs, a few rounds of the Cruciatus Curse... the usual kidnapper-hostage stuff. Of course, when the hostage is so young, so beautiful, so innocent..."
Dumbledore's blood seethed with anger. He had never been one to give in to rage, but in Grindelwald's case, he could make an exception.
"Isn't life a bitch, Albus?" Grindelwald asked. "You spend all your life looking for that one special individual, and when you finally find her, there's some sick fuck standing there, waiting to decapitate her." He paused, and a smile worked its way across his face. "Have you ever sliced someone's head off? There's nothing like it, not even her." He took a few steps backwards and held his arms out wide. "Here I am. Come get me. Rip my fucking head off. Find out what it's like."
Dumbledore knew Grindelwald was trying to trick him in to something, and it wasn't going to work. One of them was going to die. He'd known that as soon as he stepped down there. If he didn't kill Grindelwald, Grindelwald would kill him, and probably Minerva, too. He'd probably kill her first, as a distraction. That was Grindelwald's advantage. He knew that as long as he had Minerva, Dumbledore wouldn't touch him.
Time was running out. Minerva needed medical attention as fast as possible; the beating she had taken would have killed most people a long time ago. As if he could read his thoughts, Grindelwald glanced at Minerva, and his expression grew even more smug than before. "Should I kill her now and put her out of her misery, or wait for a little while longer?" he asked, then sighed. "Decisions, decisions."
Minerva made the decision for him. Her bloody hand crept toward Dumbledore's wand, lying on the ground just barely within her reach. The pain that resulted from her movement was almost unbearable, but she was determined to do what had to be done. Her fingers closed around the wand, and she pointed it at Grindelwald. "Hey, bastard," she said, getting the dark wizard's attention. "Stupefy!" Then she fainted.
Grindelwald reacted fast enough to block the Stunning Charm, but the distraction was more than enough time for Dumbledore to assume the offensive. He rushed at Grindelwald and planted a punch in the side of his face. Grindelwald stumbled backwards, but didn't fall. Dumbledore seized his wand hand, and sickening crack was heard as he snapped Grindelwald's wrist. The wand fell to the ground. Before Dumbledore could get it, though, Grindelwald stepped on it and broke it, rendering it useless to either one of them. Dumbledore glanced back at Minerva to see if he could get his wand, but she had fainted on top of it, and he didn't have the time it would take to get it out from under her without damaging her even more than she already was. He was going to have to stop Grindelwald without the aid of magic.
When it came to hand-to-hand combat, Dumbledore wasn't bad, but Grindelwald was much better. Even without the use of his good hand, he had the advantage. He was an expert martial artist, and as he stepped back into a fighting stance, Dumbledore wasn't sure that trying to kill Grindelwald with his bare hands was a good idea anymore. "Do you really think you can take me?" Grindelwald asked tauntingly. "You're welcome to try."
Then he attacked. He faked a strike to the head with his uninjured left hand to draw Dumbledore's attention, then executed a spinning roundhouse kick. The kick hit Dumbledore in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards. Before he could recover and prepare an attack of his own, Grindelwald performed another spin kick. This one was aimed higher and hit him in the face. He dropped to the ground, and Grindelwald chuckled. "I always thought you would be more of a challenge."
There was a warm, salty taste in Dumbledore's mouth, and when he spat to get rid of it, he saw that his saliva was red with blood. "I'm just getting started," he said, struggling to his feet.
"So am I."
Grindelwald threw another kick, but Dumbledore was ready this time. He blocked the kick with his right arm and attempted a palm strike to the chest, but Grindelwald came back with a block of his own. He hooked his wrist around Dumbledore's, jerked his arm back, and let go. Dumbledore hit the floor again, and Grindelwald kicked him in the rib cage. "Get up," he sneered. "Make me try."
Dumbledore's mind was spinning. This approach was definitely a bad idea. He didn't know what he was thinking when he decided to attack this way. Grindelwald was half his age and twice as fast and strong. Dumbledore was one of the most powerful wizards in the world, if not the most, but right now, he might as well be a Muggle. He couldn't give up, though. Not when so much was at stake.
Dumbledore rolled to the side to get away from Grindelwald and managed to get to his feet before Grindelwald came at him again. Grindelwald threw another kick, but Dumbledore stepped a side, and Grindelwald sailed harmlessly past him. That gave Dumbledore enough time to think of something to do, and he decided that the knees were his best option. He planted a kick in the back of Grindelwald's left knee, causing him to loose his balance and fall to the ground. A few more seconds had just been bought.
Knowing he wouldn't be able to defeat Grindelwald by hand-to-hand combat alone, Dumbledore scanned the vicinity for a weapon of some sort. Some steel pipes were stacked against a column about thirty feet away, and he decided those would do. He dashed over to the pile and took two pipes, one in each hand. Grindelwald laughed when he saw what Dumbledore was doing. "Do you really think those are going to help?" he asked. "You can't beat me. You know you can't."
He did, but he wasn't about to let Grindelwald know it. Besides, there was always the off-chance that something might go his way. Pipes in hand, he stepped toward his enemy. "I'm not dead yet."
"A minor technicality," Grindelwald replied, and grabbed one of the pipes with his left hand. He pulled it out of Dumbledore's grip and hit him across the face with it. Dumbledore fell, but when he hit the ground, rolled several times and quickly got back on his feet, holding one end of each pipe in his hands. Grindelwald struck at him again, and a ringing sound ran through the subway as metal hit metal.
For a few seconds, they were locked in position, neither one giving an inch. Suddenly, Dumbledore stepped back, causing Grindelwald to fall forward, and pushed him to the side. Grindelwald stumbled for a few steps, regained his balance, then looked back at Dumbledore and smiled. "Very good, Albus," he said. "How does your face feel?"
With those words, Dumbledore realized how much his face was hurting. When Grindelwald hit him across the face with the pipe, it must have broken his nose, because it was burning with pain and blood was cascading out of it like a waterfall. "It feels wonderful, Xavier," he said through clenched teeth. "In fact, it's never been better. How's your wrist?"
Grindelwald didn't reply. Instead, he lunged forward with the pipe again, bringing it down on Dumbledore's shoulder. Dumbledore fell, but as he did, managed to hook his pipe around Grindelwald's neck, taking him down as well. When they hit the ground, Dumbledore planted his foot in Grindelwald's back and flipped him over his head. He knew his upper hand could only last for so long. He had to make the best of being on top while he had it.
Dumbledore struggled to his feet, his nose bleeding profusely. Several feet away, Grindelwald was doing the same. Grindelwald let out a shout and threw his pipe at Dumbledore. In the time it took Dumbledore to react and block it with his own pipe, Grindelwald was halfway to him. He jumped up into the air and performed a spinning hook kick that hit him in the face. The kick alone would have been painful enough, but on his broken nose, the hit was enough to drop him, which it did.
The pain was overwhelming, obstucting his thoughts, vision, and judgement. He was too slow to react when Grindelwald planted another kick in his rib cage. He could feel his ribs breaking, tearing into the delicate tissue of his lungs, and he coughed up blood. Dumbledore lifted his eyes, partially blinded by the pain, to Grindelwald, standing above him, smiling smugly. His entire body was throbbing, his head most of all, and he could feel life slipping away from him, but he wasn't going to give up. Not when there was still life left in him.
Dumbledore glanced in Minerva's direction, and his blurred vision caught a glimpse of her lying on the cold concrete with a pool of blood underneath her motionless body. Was she dead? She looked like it, but the spark of hope that still remained in his heart told him she was alive, but just barely. If she didn't get medical attention soon, within the next half hour tops, she would be beyond any help.
A soft chuckle from Grindelwald brought Dumbledore's attention back to his enemy. "Had enough yet?" Grindelwald asked.
He had an idea. "Never," he said, and tossed his pipe aside. Then, he sat up, and seized Grindelwald by his broken right wrist. Grindelwald let out a cry of pain, and Dumbledore put all his energy into a palm strike aimed at his enemy's knee. The hit was true, and Grindelwald's knee snapped like a twig. Now that he was crippled, fighting back was not looking like a possibility.
Dumbledore painfully stood up, still holding on to Grindelwald's wrist. Not allowing his enemy to fall just yet, he stepped behind him, and planted another palm strike at the right shoulder joint. Once the shoulder was dislocated, Dumbledore let go of Grindelwald, and he fell to the ground. "It's over, Xavier," he said. "I don't want to kill you. Don't make me."
Grindelwald laughed. As he did, blood came out of the corners of his mouth. "You don't want to kill me?" he said. "Yes, you do. I murdered your sister and brother-in-law. I impaled your best friend's head on a stick and fucked your girlfriend. And I loved every second of it. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want to kill me."
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and repeated his words. "I don't want to kill you."
"Of course you don't. You won't. You can't. Me, your own flesh and blood. No, Albus, I don't think you want to kill me, either." Slowly, painfully, and never breaking eye contact with Dumbledore, Grindelwald stood up, putting his weight on his functioning left leg. "Look at yourself. You're dying. You know you are. I have two broken joints and a dislocated shoulder, but that's it. I suspect that you've already lost enough blood through that broken nose of yours to make you feel a little disoriented, and I doubt the internal bleeding is doing much to help."
He didn't say anything. He knew Grindelwald's words were true. He was getting weaker by the second.
Grindelwald's bloody lips worked themselves into a smirk. "If I push you over, you won't have the strength to get up. You'll lay there and die. And while you die, I'll finish off Minerva. I'll make it something special. The usual decapitation isn't enough for the girl who stole Albus Dumbledore's heart. Let's see... ah, yes, that's it - slice her open and take out each organ, one by one. I'll start with her intestines, then move on to the stomach, kidneys, pancreas, liver, and then the heart, so she's alive as long as possible while you lay there on the ground watching, completely and utterly helpless."
Another idea came to Dumbledore, and if this didn't work, nothing would. He lunged forward and grabbed the handle of the knife Grindelwald had in his pocket through his enemy's robes. As soon as the steel blade pierced his skin, Grindelwald knew it was over. He had spoken too soon. Dumbledore remembered the knife, and took advantage of his cockiness and used his own weapon against him. A bittersweet smile crossed his face as the steel blade of the knife became embedded in his abdomen. He looked at what he thought was Dumbledore; he couldn't be sure because as his life left him, it took his vision along with it.
"I said I didn't want to kill you," Dumbledore said. "I didn't say that I wouldn't."
"Are you going to rip my head off?" Grindelwald asked.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes."
He placed his right hand on Grindelwald's chin and his left hand on the back of his head. Once his hands were in place, he pushed his right forward and pulled his left back, breaking Grindelwald's neck as easily as if it was something he did every day. A few more quick, strong tugs ripped the flesh that kept his enemy's head attached to his body, and the next thing he knew, Grindelwald's head was in his hands. The expression was the same as before he died; smug, smirking, acknowledging his end without trying to make any excuses for himself. Disgusted with Grindelwald and with himself, Dumbledore let the head fall to the ground next to the lifeless corpse of the most powerful dark wizard in centuries.
Grindelwald was dead, but Dumbledore's problems weren't over yet. His injuried left him more dead than alive, and then there was Minerva. He had to work fast if he expected to save her. He half walked, half stumbled toward the still form of the girl he would and almost did give his life for. Kneeling down next to her, his blood-covered, trembling fingers touched her neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, but it was so faint that it could barely be detected. "Hold on, Minerva," he said, and stroked her bruised cheek for a moment. A tear fell from his eyes and washed away some of the dried blood on her face. "I won't let you die."
Slowly, carefully, he lifted her torso up just enough to pry his wand loose from her hand, and he gently set her down again. A quick banishing charm got rid of the rocks around the exit, and then he pointed his wand at Minerva. "Mobilicorpus," he said, and her body rose into the air. He didn't think moving her himself would be a good idea.
When Dumbledore reached the street, he found a horde of wizards from the Ministry of Magic swarming around the immediate vicinity. One of them spotted him and came running over. "Professor Dumbledore!" he exclaimed. "You're alive!"
"Just barely, Horatio," Dumbledore replied. He was getting dizzy, and his vision was going as fast as his consciousness. Horatio was just another blur to him. He recognized him by his voice.
Horatio called for emergency transportation to take Dumbledore and Minerva to a nearby wizard hospital, then asked, "Where's Grindelwald?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Dumbledore's fuzzy vision caught what looked like three or four mediwitches getting Minerva onto a stretcher. "Grindelwald is dead," he told Horatio with the last of his strength. "We need not fear him any longer."
He was unconscious before he hit the ground.
~~~
When Dumbledore woke up, all he saw was white. For a few moments, he thought he was dead, but when he heard the steady electronic beep of a heart rate monitor, he knew he wasn't - not this time, anyway. Upon realizing he was alive, his next thoughts were of Minerva. She had been in far worse condition than him. Had she been lucky enough to survive, too?
"Albus?"
He knew that voice. He turned his head to in the voice's direction to see if he'd really heard it or his mind was playing tricks on him. A relieved smile crossed his face when he saw that his worst fears had not been realized. It was Minerva, and she was not only alive, but awake as well. "Minerva," he said. "You're alive. Thank Merlin."
She smiled back at him. "A little worse for wear, but alive. They say we're both going to be all right."
He could have cared less about himself; knowing that she was going to live was all he cared about. His survival was a nice bonus. He reached out with his hand, and she did the same. Their fingers met halfway. "I wish I could have gotten there faster," he said.
"It's all right," Minerva said. "We're both alive, and that's the important thing." She paused, then asked, "What happened to Grindelwald?"
"Grindelwald is dead," Dumbledore answered. "His reign of terror is over."
The smile faded from Minerva's face. "Albus, there's something I have to know," she said. "You and Grindelwald referred to each other by your first names. What is your history with him?"
Dumbledore sighed, then cringed with the pain that simple action produced. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Minerva's hand. "Xavier Grindelwald is my nephew, my sister's son," he answered. "I don't know what went wrong with him. It certainly wasn't in his genes; Bianca and Christopher were two of the kindest people I ever knew. They were nothing like what Xavier became." He opened his eyes and gazed at her for a moment before continuing. "I didn't want to kill him. Evil or not, he was still my nephew. Sometimes, though, the choices are made for us. But it's over now. There is no good in dwelling on things that cannot be changed."
Grindelwald was dead. The shadow that hung over the wizarding world had been lifted. There would be rejoicing and celebration throughout their world, but Dumbledore knew it wouldn't last for long. Evil never rested. When one fell, another emerged. Grindelwald's time was over, but someday, another enemy would arise. That was the way of things, the way the world had worked since time began. Evil would appear, but as long as good remained stronger, it would never triumph.
When the new enemy came, they would be ready.
SUMMARY: Albus Dumbledore may come off as a gentle, harmless old wizard, but occasionally, a glimpse of his other side is seen, the side of him that will do whatever it takes to stop his enemies and protect his friends, as we saw in the last few chapters of the fourth book. This side of him is revealed in full one day in 1945, when he succeeds in tracking down his arch-nemesis, Grindelwald, and he has no choice but to kill or be killed. Our hero survives the encounter, of course, but just barely...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The dark side is calling... my dark side, that is. To soften it up a bit, I threw in a little bit of AD/MM for all you shippers out there... you're the only ones that read my stories anyway. *laughs* And yes, I do have a thing with decapitation (and Macbeth), and all the decapitation stuff has something to do with Grindelwald. (hmm... okay, I'll just stop now before I give away the entire story) Also, in case you were wondering, this story is completely independent from my other Grindelwald-era fic, 'Obsessions' (even though Armando Dippet dies in this one, too, and almost the same way, though not quite as horrible). And I don't know if they had heart rate monitors in 1945... pretend for me, okay? ^_^ That's it. On with the show.
~~~
"... with his brandished steel
Which smoked with bloody execution
Like valor's minion
Carved out his passage till he faced the slave
Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him
Till he unseamed him from the nave to th' chops
And fixed his head upon our battlements."
- Captain, from 'Macbeth' by William Shakespeare
~~~
"Crucio."
Nothing could prepare Minerva McGonagall for the suffering she was about to endure. As soon as the word left Xavier Grindelwald's lips, pain shot through her body, overloading her senses and flooding her mind. It was as if her internal organs exploded and her skin was the only thing holding her together, as if she was burning and freezing at the same time, as if each bone was being broken with a hammer, one by one. The pain was blinding, and even though she couldn't see Grindelwald, she knew he was smiling, laughing, enjoying seeing her suffer. She tried to fight it, but the curse was too powerful for the eighteen-year-old witch-in-training, and her pain only became greater.
She could not hold in the forming scream for long, and when it emerged from her flaming vocal cords, it was drowned out by the cries of the dozens of Muggles fleeing from the wizard torturing the young woman in the underground subway station. Grindelwald had abducted her and taken her here in hopes of luring his enemy into his perfectly laid trap. Albus Dumbledore hadn't appeared yet, but Grindelwald was fully confident that he would take the bait. It was only a matter of time.
Grindelwald released Minerva from the Cruciatus Curse, and allowed a few seconds of recovery before speaking to her. "Where is he?"
Minerva coughed, and tasted warm, salty blood in her mouth. "You're not going to win," she told him. Blood trickled out of her mouth and dripped into the ground, leaving dark red stains on the cold concrete below her. "Professor Dumbledore would never fall for a trap so completely obvious."
"Tell me, Minerva," Grindelwald said, "do you call him 'Professor Dumbledore' when he's got his arms around you at night?"
So he knew she was having an affair with her teacher. They hadn't done anything close to what Grindelwald was implying, but the fact that he knew was enough. "Couldn't say," she said. "Haven't had the chance."
"Pity you never will. Crucio."
The pain hit her again. This time, it felt like someone was taking a scalpel to her skin and peeling it off layer by layer. She felt sick. Her stomach muscles contracted, and when Grindelwald released the curse, a combination of vomit and blood came spewing out her mouth. She knew the Cruciatus Curse couldn't kill, but she still felt more dead than alive.
"Blood?" Grindelwald said with sarcastic curiosity. "What's this? We shouldn't be seeing any of that. Why are you coughing up blood, Minerva?" A cruel smile crossed his face as he "remembered". "Oh, that's right. I broke your ribs."
Yes, he had broken her ribs, three of them, to be exact; right before he raped her to put her in so much pain that fighting back would be virtually impossible. "Fuck you," she hissed, and sent a mixture of saliva and blood flying in his direction.
"Later," he said, and hit her with another round of the Cruciatus Curse.
~~~
Half a block away, Albus Dumbledore was racing frantically through the streets of London. Grindelwald had Minerva. He knew she was bait for him, but there was no way he was going to let her die. If saving her meant walking into a trap, then that was what he was going to do. Grindelwald's fight was with him. He would pay for bringing her into this.
Suddenly, a sound caught Dumbledore's ear: the sound of dozens of people screaming in terror. Hoping that it might lead him to Grindelwald, he began running in the direction of the sound. Soon, he was able to see what it was, and it was a horde of people stumbling over themselves to get out of a subway. "You there!" Dumbledore shouted to one of the outgoing men. "What's going on down there?"
The man, his face sweaty from fear, struggled to form words, but no sounds came out. That, however, was enough for Dumbledore. "Thank you," he said, and dashed toward the subway.
Getting to the stairs leading into the subway was easier said than done. Human judgement was impaired when afraid, and these people were terrified. Dumbledore noticed the body of a child that had been knocked over and trampled in all the commotion lying on the ground, but he had no time to feel any remorse. He forced his way past the frenzied mob, ignoring their screams, tears, and the warning from one man still coherent enough to tell him not to go down there. If Grindelwald was down there, he was not going to escape.
"Grindelwald!" he shouted down into the subway, pushing people out of his way. "If you're down there, don't expect to come out again!"
~~~
Dumbledore's voice echoed through the man-made cave of steel and concrete, causing Grindelwald to lose his focus and release Minerva from the Cruciatus Curse sooner than he planned. "Dear me," Grindelwald said, glancing toward the exit. "Could that be Professor Pedophile coming to rescue his little whore?"
"Don't ever call him that, you sick bastard," Minerva said through clenched teeth. "You don't know him or me."
Grindelwald looked uninterested, even bored with what she had to say. "Whatever," he said dismissively, and pointed his wand at the exit. A yellow beam shot out from the end, hitting the roof and causing rubble to block the stairs leading down to their position. "That should stop him for a while, eh?"
~~~
Dumbledore stopped running and lifted his arms to shield himself from the falling debris. A piece of rock hit his arm, and when the sting passed, he felt warm blood trickling down his arm. He took a few steps back, and pressing his hand to the wound to stop the bleeding, he assessed the situation. Grindelwald had to be down there. He doubted anything else would have caused the roof of the subway to cave in. Getting in by means of the stairs was out of the question, so he moved on to his next option: Apparition.
~~~
"EXPELLIARMUS!!!"
Grindelwald was about to subject Minerva to the Cruciatus Curse again when an enraged voice shouted that word. A blast of red light hit him, causing him to drop his wand and fall over backwards. Grindelwald's eyes fell upon the wizard who had attacked him, and a cruel smile worked its way across his face as he recognized him. "About time," he sneered.
Dumbledore kept his wand pointed at Grindelwald. "You're not escaping this time," he said, his eyes burning like blue fire.
"Of course I'm not," Grindelwald replied. His hand slowly reached out and retreived his wand. "You're going to let me go."
"And why," Dumbledore said, "would I let you go?"
Grindelwald reached into his robes, pulled out a knife, stood up, seized Minerva, and held the steel blade to her throat. "Because if you don't, Minerva McGonagall makes an even twenty."
Grindelwald had decapitated nineteen people since his reign of terror started a few months ago, including Armando Dippet, the headmaster of Hogwarts, and David Embry, the Minister of Magic, as well as his parents and people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Don't do it, Xavier," Dumbledore said. "Your fight is with me."
"My fight is with the entire wizarding world," Grindelwald replied. "You're just another obstacle standing in my way, just like she is." He guided the blade of the knife over the delicate skin of Minerva's neck, cutting just deep enough to make blood trickle out. Dumbledore prepared to shout another disarming spell, but before he could, Grindelwald said, "Put the wand down, Albus, or I kill her right now."
"Don't listen to him!" Minerva shouted. "Kill him! Kill both of us if you have to!"
Grindelwald chuckled. "Isn't she noble?"
Dumbledore took a few deep breaths to steady his racing heart. "If I put my wand down," he said, "will you let her go?"
Grindelwald shrugged. "Why not?"
Dumbledore knelt down, placed his wand on the ground, then held up his hands as he rose to his feet to show Grindelwald that they were empty.
"Very good," Grindelwald said. "Now, what was it you wanted me to do?"
"Liar!" Dumbledore cried, and reached for his wand. Before he could get it, though, Grindelwald cast a Summoning Charm, and Dumbledore's wand flew into his hands. Dumbledore felt like an idiot. He should have known Grindelwald wouldn't play by the rules. Defeating Grindelwald was going to be hard enough as it was. Now he had to figure out how to do it without a wand.
"You're weaponless, Albus," Grindelwald observed, putting the knife back into a pocket inside his robes. "I wonder if I can cast the Cruciatus Curse with two wands?"
"You're not going to find out," Minerva said, and elbowed him in the chest.
Grindelwald wasn't expecting to get hit, and she nailed him so hard that it knocked the wind out of him. In the process, he dropped Dumbledore's wand. "Bitch," he hissed, and pushed her to the ground. She landed hard, and coughed up blood upon impact. Her broken ribs were tearing into her lung tissue, and every breath was difficult and painful.
Dumbledore could see that Minerva was in a lot more pain than could be expected from a cut and a fall, and he wondered what sort of cruel torture Grindelwald performed on her before his arrival. "What did you do to her?"
"Oh, nothing," Grindelwald replied. "A few broken ribs, a few rounds of the Cruciatus Curse... the usual kidnapper-hostage stuff. Of course, when the hostage is so young, so beautiful, so innocent..."
Dumbledore's blood seethed with anger. He had never been one to give in to rage, but in Grindelwald's case, he could make an exception.
"Isn't life a bitch, Albus?" Grindelwald asked. "You spend all your life looking for that one special individual, and when you finally find her, there's some sick fuck standing there, waiting to decapitate her." He paused, and a smile worked its way across his face. "Have you ever sliced someone's head off? There's nothing like it, not even her." He took a few steps backwards and held his arms out wide. "Here I am. Come get me. Rip my fucking head off. Find out what it's like."
Dumbledore knew Grindelwald was trying to trick him in to something, and it wasn't going to work. One of them was going to die. He'd known that as soon as he stepped down there. If he didn't kill Grindelwald, Grindelwald would kill him, and probably Minerva, too. He'd probably kill her first, as a distraction. That was Grindelwald's advantage. He knew that as long as he had Minerva, Dumbledore wouldn't touch him.
Time was running out. Minerva needed medical attention as fast as possible; the beating she had taken would have killed most people a long time ago. As if he could read his thoughts, Grindelwald glanced at Minerva, and his expression grew even more smug than before. "Should I kill her now and put her out of her misery, or wait for a little while longer?" he asked, then sighed. "Decisions, decisions."
Minerva made the decision for him. Her bloody hand crept toward Dumbledore's wand, lying on the ground just barely within her reach. The pain that resulted from her movement was almost unbearable, but she was determined to do what had to be done. Her fingers closed around the wand, and she pointed it at Grindelwald. "Hey, bastard," she said, getting the dark wizard's attention. "Stupefy!" Then she fainted.
Grindelwald reacted fast enough to block the Stunning Charm, but the distraction was more than enough time for Dumbledore to assume the offensive. He rushed at Grindelwald and planted a punch in the side of his face. Grindelwald stumbled backwards, but didn't fall. Dumbledore seized his wand hand, and sickening crack was heard as he snapped Grindelwald's wrist. The wand fell to the ground. Before Dumbledore could get it, though, Grindelwald stepped on it and broke it, rendering it useless to either one of them. Dumbledore glanced back at Minerva to see if he could get his wand, but she had fainted on top of it, and he didn't have the time it would take to get it out from under her without damaging her even more than she already was. He was going to have to stop Grindelwald without the aid of magic.
When it came to hand-to-hand combat, Dumbledore wasn't bad, but Grindelwald was much better. Even without the use of his good hand, he had the advantage. He was an expert martial artist, and as he stepped back into a fighting stance, Dumbledore wasn't sure that trying to kill Grindelwald with his bare hands was a good idea anymore. "Do you really think you can take me?" Grindelwald asked tauntingly. "You're welcome to try."
Then he attacked. He faked a strike to the head with his uninjured left hand to draw Dumbledore's attention, then executed a spinning roundhouse kick. The kick hit Dumbledore in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards. Before he could recover and prepare an attack of his own, Grindelwald performed another spin kick. This one was aimed higher and hit him in the face. He dropped to the ground, and Grindelwald chuckled. "I always thought you would be more of a challenge."
There was a warm, salty taste in Dumbledore's mouth, and when he spat to get rid of it, he saw that his saliva was red with blood. "I'm just getting started," he said, struggling to his feet.
"So am I."
Grindelwald threw another kick, but Dumbledore was ready this time. He blocked the kick with his right arm and attempted a palm strike to the chest, but Grindelwald came back with a block of his own. He hooked his wrist around Dumbledore's, jerked his arm back, and let go. Dumbledore hit the floor again, and Grindelwald kicked him in the rib cage. "Get up," he sneered. "Make me try."
Dumbledore's mind was spinning. This approach was definitely a bad idea. He didn't know what he was thinking when he decided to attack this way. Grindelwald was half his age and twice as fast and strong. Dumbledore was one of the most powerful wizards in the world, if not the most, but right now, he might as well be a Muggle. He couldn't give up, though. Not when so much was at stake.
Dumbledore rolled to the side to get away from Grindelwald and managed to get to his feet before Grindelwald came at him again. Grindelwald threw another kick, but Dumbledore stepped a side, and Grindelwald sailed harmlessly past him. That gave Dumbledore enough time to think of something to do, and he decided that the knees were his best option. He planted a kick in the back of Grindelwald's left knee, causing him to loose his balance and fall to the ground. A few more seconds had just been bought.
Knowing he wouldn't be able to defeat Grindelwald by hand-to-hand combat alone, Dumbledore scanned the vicinity for a weapon of some sort. Some steel pipes were stacked against a column about thirty feet away, and he decided those would do. He dashed over to the pile and took two pipes, one in each hand. Grindelwald laughed when he saw what Dumbledore was doing. "Do you really think those are going to help?" he asked. "You can't beat me. You know you can't."
He did, but he wasn't about to let Grindelwald know it. Besides, there was always the off-chance that something might go his way. Pipes in hand, he stepped toward his enemy. "I'm not dead yet."
"A minor technicality," Grindelwald replied, and grabbed one of the pipes with his left hand. He pulled it out of Dumbledore's grip and hit him across the face with it. Dumbledore fell, but when he hit the ground, rolled several times and quickly got back on his feet, holding one end of each pipe in his hands. Grindelwald struck at him again, and a ringing sound ran through the subway as metal hit metal.
For a few seconds, they were locked in position, neither one giving an inch. Suddenly, Dumbledore stepped back, causing Grindelwald to fall forward, and pushed him to the side. Grindelwald stumbled for a few steps, regained his balance, then looked back at Dumbledore and smiled. "Very good, Albus," he said. "How does your face feel?"
With those words, Dumbledore realized how much his face was hurting. When Grindelwald hit him across the face with the pipe, it must have broken his nose, because it was burning with pain and blood was cascading out of it like a waterfall. "It feels wonderful, Xavier," he said through clenched teeth. "In fact, it's never been better. How's your wrist?"
Grindelwald didn't reply. Instead, he lunged forward with the pipe again, bringing it down on Dumbledore's shoulder. Dumbledore fell, but as he did, managed to hook his pipe around Grindelwald's neck, taking him down as well. When they hit the ground, Dumbledore planted his foot in Grindelwald's back and flipped him over his head. He knew his upper hand could only last for so long. He had to make the best of being on top while he had it.
Dumbledore struggled to his feet, his nose bleeding profusely. Several feet away, Grindelwald was doing the same. Grindelwald let out a shout and threw his pipe at Dumbledore. In the time it took Dumbledore to react and block it with his own pipe, Grindelwald was halfway to him. He jumped up into the air and performed a spinning hook kick that hit him in the face. The kick alone would have been painful enough, but on his broken nose, the hit was enough to drop him, which it did.
The pain was overwhelming, obstucting his thoughts, vision, and judgement. He was too slow to react when Grindelwald planted another kick in his rib cage. He could feel his ribs breaking, tearing into the delicate tissue of his lungs, and he coughed up blood. Dumbledore lifted his eyes, partially blinded by the pain, to Grindelwald, standing above him, smiling smugly. His entire body was throbbing, his head most of all, and he could feel life slipping away from him, but he wasn't going to give up. Not when there was still life left in him.
Dumbledore glanced in Minerva's direction, and his blurred vision caught a glimpse of her lying on the cold concrete with a pool of blood underneath her motionless body. Was she dead? She looked like it, but the spark of hope that still remained in his heart told him she was alive, but just barely. If she didn't get medical attention soon, within the next half hour tops, she would be beyond any help.
A soft chuckle from Grindelwald brought Dumbledore's attention back to his enemy. "Had enough yet?" Grindelwald asked.
He had an idea. "Never," he said, and tossed his pipe aside. Then, he sat up, and seized Grindelwald by his broken right wrist. Grindelwald let out a cry of pain, and Dumbledore put all his energy into a palm strike aimed at his enemy's knee. The hit was true, and Grindelwald's knee snapped like a twig. Now that he was crippled, fighting back was not looking like a possibility.
Dumbledore painfully stood up, still holding on to Grindelwald's wrist. Not allowing his enemy to fall just yet, he stepped behind him, and planted another palm strike at the right shoulder joint. Once the shoulder was dislocated, Dumbledore let go of Grindelwald, and he fell to the ground. "It's over, Xavier," he said. "I don't want to kill you. Don't make me."
Grindelwald laughed. As he did, blood came out of the corners of his mouth. "You don't want to kill me?" he said. "Yes, you do. I murdered your sister and brother-in-law. I impaled your best friend's head on a stick and fucked your girlfriend. And I loved every second of it. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want to kill me."
Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and repeated his words. "I don't want to kill you."
"Of course you don't. You won't. You can't. Me, your own flesh and blood. No, Albus, I don't think you want to kill me, either." Slowly, painfully, and never breaking eye contact with Dumbledore, Grindelwald stood up, putting his weight on his functioning left leg. "Look at yourself. You're dying. You know you are. I have two broken joints and a dislocated shoulder, but that's it. I suspect that you've already lost enough blood through that broken nose of yours to make you feel a little disoriented, and I doubt the internal bleeding is doing much to help."
He didn't say anything. He knew Grindelwald's words were true. He was getting weaker by the second.
Grindelwald's bloody lips worked themselves into a smirk. "If I push you over, you won't have the strength to get up. You'll lay there and die. And while you die, I'll finish off Minerva. I'll make it something special. The usual decapitation isn't enough for the girl who stole Albus Dumbledore's heart. Let's see... ah, yes, that's it - slice her open and take out each organ, one by one. I'll start with her intestines, then move on to the stomach, kidneys, pancreas, liver, and then the heart, so she's alive as long as possible while you lay there on the ground watching, completely and utterly helpless."
Another idea came to Dumbledore, and if this didn't work, nothing would. He lunged forward and grabbed the handle of the knife Grindelwald had in his pocket through his enemy's robes. As soon as the steel blade pierced his skin, Grindelwald knew it was over. He had spoken too soon. Dumbledore remembered the knife, and took advantage of his cockiness and used his own weapon against him. A bittersweet smile crossed his face as the steel blade of the knife became embedded in his abdomen. He looked at what he thought was Dumbledore; he couldn't be sure because as his life left him, it took his vision along with it.
"I said I didn't want to kill you," Dumbledore said. "I didn't say that I wouldn't."
"Are you going to rip my head off?" Grindelwald asked.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes."
He placed his right hand on Grindelwald's chin and his left hand on the back of his head. Once his hands were in place, he pushed his right forward and pulled his left back, breaking Grindelwald's neck as easily as if it was something he did every day. A few more quick, strong tugs ripped the flesh that kept his enemy's head attached to his body, and the next thing he knew, Grindelwald's head was in his hands. The expression was the same as before he died; smug, smirking, acknowledging his end without trying to make any excuses for himself. Disgusted with Grindelwald and with himself, Dumbledore let the head fall to the ground next to the lifeless corpse of the most powerful dark wizard in centuries.
Grindelwald was dead, but Dumbledore's problems weren't over yet. His injuried left him more dead than alive, and then there was Minerva. He had to work fast if he expected to save her. He half walked, half stumbled toward the still form of the girl he would and almost did give his life for. Kneeling down next to her, his blood-covered, trembling fingers touched her neck, feeling for a pulse. It was there, but it was so faint that it could barely be detected. "Hold on, Minerva," he said, and stroked her bruised cheek for a moment. A tear fell from his eyes and washed away some of the dried blood on her face. "I won't let you die."
Slowly, carefully, he lifted her torso up just enough to pry his wand loose from her hand, and he gently set her down again. A quick banishing charm got rid of the rocks around the exit, and then he pointed his wand at Minerva. "Mobilicorpus," he said, and her body rose into the air. He didn't think moving her himself would be a good idea.
When Dumbledore reached the street, he found a horde of wizards from the Ministry of Magic swarming around the immediate vicinity. One of them spotted him and came running over. "Professor Dumbledore!" he exclaimed. "You're alive!"
"Just barely, Horatio," Dumbledore replied. He was getting dizzy, and his vision was going as fast as his consciousness. Horatio was just another blur to him. He recognized him by his voice.
Horatio called for emergency transportation to take Dumbledore and Minerva to a nearby wizard hospital, then asked, "Where's Grindelwald?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Dumbledore's fuzzy vision caught what looked like three or four mediwitches getting Minerva onto a stretcher. "Grindelwald is dead," he told Horatio with the last of his strength. "We need not fear him any longer."
He was unconscious before he hit the ground.
~~~
When Dumbledore woke up, all he saw was white. For a few moments, he thought he was dead, but when he heard the steady electronic beep of a heart rate monitor, he knew he wasn't - not this time, anyway. Upon realizing he was alive, his next thoughts were of Minerva. She had been in far worse condition than him. Had she been lucky enough to survive, too?
"Albus?"
He knew that voice. He turned his head to in the voice's direction to see if he'd really heard it or his mind was playing tricks on him. A relieved smile crossed his face when he saw that his worst fears had not been realized. It was Minerva, and she was not only alive, but awake as well. "Minerva," he said. "You're alive. Thank Merlin."
She smiled back at him. "A little worse for wear, but alive. They say we're both going to be all right."
He could have cared less about himself; knowing that she was going to live was all he cared about. His survival was a nice bonus. He reached out with his hand, and she did the same. Their fingers met halfway. "I wish I could have gotten there faster," he said.
"It's all right," Minerva said. "We're both alive, and that's the important thing." She paused, then asked, "What happened to Grindelwald?"
"Grindelwald is dead," Dumbledore answered. "His reign of terror is over."
The smile faded from Minerva's face. "Albus, there's something I have to know," she said. "You and Grindelwald referred to each other by your first names. What is your history with him?"
Dumbledore sighed, then cringed with the pain that simple action produced. He closed his eyes and tightened his grip on Minerva's hand. "Xavier Grindelwald is my nephew, my sister's son," he answered. "I don't know what went wrong with him. It certainly wasn't in his genes; Bianca and Christopher were two of the kindest people I ever knew. They were nothing like what Xavier became." He opened his eyes and gazed at her for a moment before continuing. "I didn't want to kill him. Evil or not, he was still my nephew. Sometimes, though, the choices are made for us. But it's over now. There is no good in dwelling on things that cannot be changed."
Grindelwald was dead. The shadow that hung over the wizarding world had been lifted. There would be rejoicing and celebration throughout their world, but Dumbledore knew it wouldn't last for long. Evil never rested. When one fell, another emerged. Grindelwald's time was over, but someday, another enemy would arise. That was the way of things, the way the world had worked since time began. Evil would appear, but as long as good remained stronger, it would never triumph.
When the new enemy came, they would be ready.