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— 𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗰𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗱.
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AS THE STORY OF AVANTIKA GRINDLEWALD drew to its close, a heavy silence settled over the Great Hall-one not of apathy, but of deep and conflicted emotion. Whispers stirred the still air, eyes darted toward the girl at the center of it all, but above everything else, one emotion reigned supreme: empathy.
Empathy-for a little girl who never met the faces of her biological parents. Empathy-for a child raised not with lullabies, but by house-elves and quiet corridors. Empathy-for a cousin despised simply for existing. Empathy-for an adopted daughter now facing the loss of the only real family she had ever known. Empathy-for a sister who had to bury her hero. Empathy-for a wife made a widow too soon. Empathy-for a mother who laid down her life so her children could breathe free.
Avantika Amaris Grindlewald was misunderstood, overlooked, and forged in sorrow-undeniably deserved better.
And yet, amidst the heartbreak and hushed tears, there were those who saw hope. Many turned their gaze toward Charles and Dorea Potter-not with pity, but admiration. For they had taken in the girl not out of obligation, but love. And more tellingly, they had never sought to "blood-adopt" her, never tried to make her into something she wasn't. They let her be Avantika-no more, no less. That, too, was love. Perhaps the truest kind.
Still, others viewed the story through a different lens. Albus Dumbledore, Arcturus Black, and Cassiopeia Black, their curiosity sharpened not by cruelty, but by intrigue. Who was this mysterious woman-Avantika's mother-who had captivated the great Gellert Grindlewald? Certainly not an ordinary witch, if she had ensnared the mind of the most dangerous man of their time.
And then there was Walburga Black.
Stern and often unreadable, she sat still, her dark eyes locked on the young woman before her. In Avantika, she saw a reflection-not a mirror, but a parallel. A girl with distant, unreachable parents. A child loved by godparents who could never fill the aching void. Walburga saw herself... only rewritten.
But where Walburga had been broken, Avantika stood unyielding. Where she had been twisted by bitterness, this girl had held on to grace. Avantika had suffered, yes-but she had not allowed suffering to change her soul. And for that, Walburga admired her.
