Nurmengard.
He looked older than he did in the historical photographs. His silver-white hair hung messily over his shoulders, and his once-sharp blue eyes had grown cloudy.
Yet his posture remained straight, as if it were not he who had been imprisoned for decades, but the tower itself.
"Dumbledore, you chose the wrong pawn..."
"Mr. Grindelwald, don't hesitate any longer." A witch dressed entirely in black robes stood in the shadows of the room.
A black felt hat sat low over her face. A silver badge was pinned to its brim. If Elizabeth had been there, she would have recognized the emblem of House Rosier: a withered rose branch entwined around a star.
"Two of the stone tablets are at Hogwarts, and I have one. We're the ones with the best chance of opening the Star Gate. As for the bloodline, I've already sent my granddaughter to get close to that Black."
"The Fountain of Eternal Night in Scandinavia, the Cursed Mountain in Albania, the Sleeping Dragon's Lair in the Scottish Highlands. Three stone tablets... You've worked hard all these years, Ophelia."
His voice sounded like sandpaper scraping against ancient bark, but that simple word of appreciation brought tears streaming down the old woman's face.
"But I'm old now, Ophelia."
"No, as long as we can..."
The old man raised a hand to stop the witch. "I didn't agree with Dumbledore's choice back then, but I don't want to make an enemy of him. You know me. I only want wizards to have a greater future."
"But now, I've lost the drive to move forward..."
"No, you..." The old witch's voice caught in her throat.
"Ophelia, do you know why I've stayed in Nurmengard all these years?"
"Of course I do! No one could hold you here! You're protecting this