Number 12 Grimmauld place was packed to bursting. The students were sorted by house and injury level; Gryffindors in the drawing room, Hufflepuffs in the library and so on. Adults and NEWT students supervised, healing the younger student's injuries whilst bearing their own. Even among the Slytherins there were a number of injuries and a surprising resentment towards the Death Eaters and Voldemort. There were some noticeable absentees - Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle chief among them, presumably those who had death eater parents who had evacuated them some other way.

Gellert was resting after having been force fed a number of potions by an irritated Snape, Dumbledore's treatment seemed more extensive as Pomfrey and Snape conferred over his still form.

They'd taken one of the bedrooms, copious privacy charms erected to deter prying students. Malfoy leant against the far wall, flanked by Nott who looked decidedly nervous but was perhaps meant as moral support. Nott's sleeves were torn and the pale scarring of cursed injuries he had received what felt like months ago were a fine lattice across his skin.

Sirius Black, looking far better than Hermione had ever seen him, arrived carrying a pile of dark looking books which he let drop onto the desk with a resounding thud. Dust wafted up from between the disturbed pages and one book threatened to remove his spleen. Sirius sneered at the pile, seemingly unconcerned by the threat, then peered over Dumbledore to see if any progress had been made.

It hadn't; the moving form of the unknown curse continued burrowing it's way up the headmaster's leg from the injury, leaving a bloody trail like paint across his skin. The progress was. Slow but inevitable, especially as previous attempts to cut it out had just made the... thing... speed up.

'Will Gellert be able to help?' Hermione inquired as the adults paused hopelessly.

'Perhaps. Assuming he wakes up in time to do anything other than create an inferius of him?' Snape sneered in reply.

'What about petrification? It might slow the curse until he wakes up.' She insisted, remembering what he had taught her in their lessons. She was rewarded by a considering look from Snape and a hesitant one from Madame Pomfrey. Nott just looked at her appraisingly, as though he'd never seen her before. He leaned over and whispered something to Malfoy without breaking eye contact with her. Malfoy said something sharply in return and Nott nodded, finally breaking her gaze.

'I don't suppose you have the aptitude to perform as well as you can boss around.' The potion's master drawled, seeming glad to have found a way to get back on the front foot.

'Yes.' She replied forcefully, also remembering Gellert's lessons on sounding confident even when she wasn't. Snape was thrown straight back onto the back foot again but stepped aside, clearing her way to the still body on the bed.

She walked forwards, suddenly feeling very nervous and uncertain of her abilities. One look at Snape's smug face was enough to solidify her will, but not enough to make her certain of herself. She raised her wand over the headmaster and begun reciting the incantation. It was long and complex, but somehow she had remembered the entire thing and an ominous red sheen appeared over the old wizard's body before sinking beneath his skin. The slight movement of his breathing stopped, his chest falling still as his skin became a shade paler.

'Acceptable, Miss Granger.' The potion's master sneered as she stepped back. The two Slytherins in the corner shared an appreciative nod, then seemed to shrink into the shadows as McGonagall appeared through the door in a whoosh of green velvet.

'Is he awake yet?' She demanded with barely concealed fury, her glare levelling at the unconscious Grindelwald. Now that the immediate concern over Dumbledore was dealt with, she finally allowed herself to feel her true irritation with the dark wizard.

Hogwarts had been destroyed; thoroughly and completely, the building had crumbled, reclaimed by nature and the once impressive magics that sustained and protected the building had been left in tatters. Oh, his scorched earth tactics were impressive and he had deprived the death eaters of a valuable fortress, but at the cost of that much history. Not to mention the number of death eaters that had been killed in the event; they had assumed the order and students were fleeing, that they had won. Not that they would ever know how many; it was unlikely that the bodies would ever be recovered from beneath the crumbled towers and wild vegetation.

'Not yet.' Hermione answered with an impressively level voice. 'Perhaps I should wait with him whilst you all attend to the others.'

McGonagall nodded, and swept from the room, followed by Sirius and the two Slytherin boys. Nott hesitated by the door briefly, Malfoy departing with a nod to leave them alone but for the sleeping Grindelwald.

'I owe you a life debt.' The boy ground out, sounding pained, then he relaxed once that admission had been made. 'My father has asked me to officially offer you the support of the Nott family. We will support you in your endeavours so long as you respect our traditions.'

'I wouldn't dream otherwise.' She replied, baffled. 'Thank you anyway.'

Then the Slytherin was gone, leaving her alone in the silent room. Her brows drew together in thought and she absently tapped her wand, a habit picked up from Gellert. Nott had offered her support and she knew she had Malfoy's support; the question was whether that support was conditional on her still holding Grindelwald's favour. She had also received tokens at Christmas from the Carrows and several other powerful continental families but was certain those would be quickly withdrawn if Gellert's ideals clashed with hers.

But if Gellert meant to take power himself there would be international uproar, and why would people be bothering with her favour?

Harry's suggestion that she take up the role of minister was becoming more realistic by the day. She didn't doubt they could defeat Voldemort with both Gellert and Dumbledore on their side. With Voldemort defeated, the majority of the old pureblood money would go with him. She mentally began ticking off the ancient families; Lestrange, Avery, Parkinson, Rosier, Rowle and Yaxley would join the Prewetts, Gaunts Peverells and Crouches in extinction. Dumbledore held the support of Macmillan, Ollivander, Abbott, Moody, Shacklebolt, Slughorn and Weasley. Gellert has some form of loyalty from the Carrows, the Malfoys, and a host of international powerful connections.

She could rely on Harry, which gave her the Potter family, not to mention his status as the boy-who-lived, Neville would give her the Longbottoms, she had Nott; that would be her pureblood backing, perhaps she could get Black from Sirius through Harry, although he was a bit of a wildcard. He was a strong advocate of Dumbledore, but Gellert had been the one to free him from prison where the headmaster had left him. Harry provided a link to her... she would have to appeal to the part of him that had a flying motorbike, she decided with a smile.

So it looked like Dumbledore had the greatest following, but perhaps not the most influential. If she could confirm the sneaking suspicion that Gellert was actually planning to support her... it would be a landslide.

Briefly she imagined the age of change she could drag the wizarding world into; Harry was right, after the death eaters, being muggleborn would only work in her favour. With the backing of that many pureblood families she could bring change to the wizarding world. She could drag the society into present, promote innovation, muggleborn integration, elf rights...

She could bring back the traditions too... Beltane and Samhain, Yule and Litha. Her muggleborn integration program could teach her the wealth of traditions that Narcissa had pressed into her over the holidays, proper wizarding burials and weddings, birth rites and patron idols.

With Gellert's political expertise and backing she could certainly bring about change.

The aforementioned wizard was awake, she realised with a start.

She blinked at him owlishly for a moment, then remembered suddenly that despite wanting his support, she was currently incredibly angry with him.

'You destroyed Hogwarts!' She accused. His brow crinkled.

'Yes, thank you, I feel fine.' He snarked, then, 'I did no such thing. I thought you were meant to have been raised by muggles.'

'Muggles?' She asked, thrown.

'Yes, Muggles.' The dark wizard repeated slowly, sitting up in bed. 'The tale of Sleeping Beauty ring a bell?'

'Yes, but what's that got to do with it?'

'Maleficent Grindelwald... one of my ancestors.' He watched her expectantly as she recalled the story.

'She grew a wall of thorns?'

'Not quite, the older version of the story was closer to the truth. Aurore, the elder of two siblings was betrothed to the King of the nearby Muggle kingdom. Maleficent, the younger, became jealous and poisoned the wine at the daughter's coming of age ceremony with the draught of living death. Aurore was pregnant, and so was the only one not to drink the wine, so she left to duel her sister for the antidote - it was not common then. In her absence she cast a powerful enchantment to make the castle look derelict and overgrown so that nobody passing would think to go inside and steal their treasures.'

Hermione listened with rapt attention as he wove the tale, imagining the characters that she had grown up hearing of superimposed on this different rendition.

'So its just an aesthetic?' She asked uncertainly. She was certain the ground shaking impact of the tower crumbling had been real.

'No, it is real. But it is more of a transfiguration than a curse, but with a counter like you would find in a charm or curse.' He explained, demonstrating by transfiguring the nearby chair into a broken chair and then casting finite to end the spell.

Slowly, Hermione nodded, taking in the new information.

'So, as far as Voldemort is aware, you have destroyed the castle and the wards, but it is really just a tactile glamour?'

Gellert nodded, explaining how he had used Dumbledore's knowledge as headmaster to make the wards dormant. The castle was useless to the death eaters - essentially a very costly pile of rubble until the correct anti-transfiguration was used.

'Now,' he continued, 'what were you thinking so deeply about a moment ago?'

'Oh. I was considering running for minister for magic after all this is over. Harry mentioned that I should.' She tried her best to sound meek and slightly embarrassed but doubted it worked enough to fool him.

'Ah, you want my support.' He tilted his head consideringly. 'What policy would you be pushing exactly?'

'Change - innovation and technology, integration with muggles.' She answered quickly.

'But nothing to dispute the statute?' He questioned, leaning back against the bed head as if it were a throne and she a subject he was deciding wether to hang or pardon.

'No, nothing like that. It would do us no good to make a move like that. We have decades of catching up to do.' She said slowly, despite having known this would come up.

'Ah, and how do you expect to keep the pureblood contingent happy? They won't like all this change.'

So she described her plans to bring back the traditional celebrations and rituals. He nodded along and she realised quickly that he had been testing her.

'I think you've already guessed my answer.' He finally interrupted. She smiled, wondering what she had suddenly managed to get herself into. She wasn't ready to run the country... but she had experience and power backing her, she had people to advise her and so far she imagined she couldn't do much worse than the previous line-up. 'Dumbledore will fight you.' Gellert informed her, peering over at the immobile form in the other bed.

'Dumbledore won't be able to stop us.' She answered derisively. 'The ones who followed him only did because he wasn't anti-muggle.' She pointed out. He nodded, glancing over at the warlock in the bed again.

'In the meantime, what is wrong with our friend?' He said conversationally, rising to his feet and glancing at the disfigured injury.

'A curse we didn't know. I petrified him to stop the spread.' She replied.

'And his hand?' He questioned. Hermione looked at him blankly.

'His hand?'

'He was favouring it during the battle.' Gellert replied. He reached over and pulled the right hand out from beneath the robes. It was withered and black, dead. On his fourth finger a gold band glittered, a black gemstone set roughly into it.

'Oh, you fool.' Gellert sighed, 'I told you it was cursed.' He tutted. 'You likely saved his life by petrifying him, Hermione.'