Magical Outburst

Anna was glad she had not seen the god in black robes in the mirror. Otherwise, this chapter would have turned into a horror story.

Seeing that she did not seem to be lying, Dumbledore looked up and glanced at the Sorting Hat high on the cabinet.

"Moonlight can illuminate those who travel through the darkness. She silently casts that beautiful light upon others, while her own heart is a desolate silence.

"She can love everyone in this world, yet she alone forgets to love herself. Even while living in this world, she is always living for others, for other purposes.

"She does not love herself, Albus. That is her greatest flaw."

Every word the Sorting Hat had said last night lingered in his mind. After testing Anna with the Mirror of Erised, Dumbledore was increasingly certain that she had a serious problem in her heart.

But where had this problem come from?

He did not know, and he could not tell from the scene she had described seeing in the Mirror of Erised.

"Your wish is beautiful, Anna."

He sat back down and took several small plates of snacks from the cabinet below. Their somewhat cloying aroma drifted through the Headmaster's Office, whetting the appetite.

She left the mirror and followed Dumbledore to a chair in front of the desk. Glancing at the sweets on the table, she found, for once, that she lacked the courage to try them.

One sniff was enough to tell her they were too sweet. She preferred light, refreshing flavors with just a touch of sweetness.

"I'm sorry for taking up your free time, but I think the two of us need to have a proper talk."

Seeing that Anna was unmoved by the sweets on the table, he took out an assortment of candies and set them before her, inviting her to try them.

"Thank you, Headmaster, but I'm not hungry right now.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Anna politely declined his offer and steeled herself to deal with the questions to come.

"Your admission records list only your guardian's name. Your parents are marked as unknown, yet you mentioned your father just now.

"Would you be willing to tell me your father and mother's names?"

A brief silence fell over the Headmaster's Office. The portraits of past Hogwarts headmasters hanging on the walls had all closed their eyes, as if they had fallen asleep.

But a closer look would have revealed that their eyes were open just a crack, fixed intently on the silver-haired girl sitting in the chair.

"My mother... About that, what I want to say is, Headmaster Dumbledore, I don't have a mother in any real sense. I..."

Anna lowered her eyes, no longer looking into the sky-blue eyes identical to her own.

"I was born in the laboratory on the lowest level of Nurmengard. As for my father, you probably already have a guess.

"His name is Grindelwald.

"Gellert Grindelwald.

"The one you defeated decades ago and then imprisoned in Nurmengard."

Her voice was very soft and devoid of emotion. Dumbledore's heart suddenly began to beat faster, and then he realized an incredible possibility.

"You are... you're a soul he created?"

His eyes widened. For once, he lost his usual composure, and his voice was full of shock.

"No, Headmaster. Even the most advanced alchemy and the most forbidden Dark Magic in the world couldn't create a person's soul. My father did try, but he failed.

"That is the realm of gods, a law that souls themselves can never reach.

"I think Father only created this alchemical body, and then my soul was drawn to it by chance in the River Styx. That's how I became who I am now."

Anna understood what Dumbledore meant at once and hurried to explain.

"Even an alchemical body is a form of forbidden Dark Magic. How could Gellert..."

Dumbledore's expression was grave. So shocked was he that he had solemnly refuted Anna's words without giving them much thought.

Then he saw her jerk her head up, her face full of confusion and helplessness, like someone jolted awake from a deep sleep.

Her sky-blue eyes were utterly vacant. This was not the result of Occlumency; Anna herself had withdrawn into a state of isolation.

"Yes, you're right.

"Father created me because he had an obsession. He couldn't let go of his past with you.

"I really don't have a mother. All this time, I've thought of you, Headmaster, as my other father, another member of my family engraved into my life.

"But you're right too. I... I should never have been born into this world.

"I am... a forbidden existence."

She murmured.

Dumbledore, sitting before her, suddenly realized something. Belatedly regretting his careless words, he wanted to say something to comfort her, but it was already too late.

Cool liquid slipped from the corner of her eye. Anna reached up to wipe it away, only then realizing that it was her own tears.

How strange. Since transmigrating, she had never lost her composure like this.

She had thought she would be excited or happy when she told Dumbledore about her origins, but she felt neither. She had said quite calmly that Grindelwald was her father.

Instead, it was the headmaster's objection to Dark Magic experiments just now that suddenly made her realize that her soul stood outside this world, and that the stories within it should have had nothing to do with her.

Just as the Mirror of Erised had shown, she had always stood outside. No matter how she searched, there was never a place for her within.

Anna Albus Grindelwald had been born because of a past that Gellert Grindelwald could not let go of, and her soul had transmigrated because of a contract with a god. These were the meaning of her life in this world.

In the eyes of the Acolytes, she was a symbol of their ideals, the one at the helm.

In Grindelwald's eyes, she was the vessel for that past, filled with all his guilt, love, and hate.

In Dumbledore's eyes, she was Grindelwald's daughter, a student he could cherish, but also the leader of the Acolytes, someone he needed to worry about.

In the eyes of others, she was a kind and approachable friend, an irreconcilable enemy, a dispensable stranger to both worlds.

But what was the real her?

If not for the contract with the god, she would never have transmigrated at all. Perhaps this body would still be lying cold in the laboratory on the lowest level of Nurmengard, never seeing the light of day.

She should have been reduced to ashes and buried beside her parents' graves from her previous life, her soul returned to the River Styx to await a next life untouched by any ties of cause and effect.

Without all this, she would be nothing more than a dead person now!

At that thought, she felt cold all over. Tears poured from her eyes as though they would never run dry, carrying with them the doubts about her own existence that she had suppressed and ignored for eleven whole years.

The flow of magic within her grew turbulent, and even Dumbledore's urgent calls beside her faded into the distance.

Six years later, she was once again caught in a raging magical outburst!