Burned Into Glory

Noel

"We thought perhaps we could sneak it by the Ministry in France, sir, but -"

"I will gladly perform the binding ceremony for you," Grindelwald said lightly, and Vinda gasped. The table went quiet, and Larsen stammered,

"Wh-What an honor. What an unspeakable honor, sir, to have you... my darling Vinda and I would..."

"It is no trouble at all. Let me know a convenient date for you," said Grindelwald smoothly, and Queenie squealed with delight, clapping her hands.

"Oh, Vinda!" she exclaimed. "You're going to be the most beautiful bride in the whole world! Ooh, you just have to let me help you pick something out with Madame Trousseau. Promise?"

Vinda smiled. "I promise, Queenie."

Suddenly Grindelwald imagined Queenie in a gown of white silk and satin, a flowing concoction that would move around her like water. He stared at her golden curls and imagined a white lace veil covering them, imagined her with scarlet lipstick contrasting the white. Then he blinked, and the terrifying vision was gone. He couldn't breathe, all of a sudden. Was that what he wanted? To marry her? No. What a ludicrous, ridiculous idea. Him, a married man. He fucked wizards for sport and kissed witches to get loyalty. That was who Gellert Grindelwald was. Not some romantic pining away after the idea of Queenie Goldstein in a bridal gown.

"Do I have food on my face or something?"

She leaned toward him and whispered the question frantically, and he realised he'd been staring intently at her for quite some time. He shook his head and murmured simply,

"You look marvelous."

"You already said that," Queenie grinned, returning to her beef. Grindelwald cleared his throat and struggled to hold conversations throughout the rest of dinner.

People filtered out slowly after dessert, but Queenie was one of the first to go. She went with Vinda, the two of them chatting about Vinda's wedding gown, whilst Larsen spoke quietly to Credence, who looked shy and uncomfortable. Grindelwald sat at the head of the table and watched the small conversations finish up, and then after awhile he rose and bid everyone a Happy Christmas and a goodnight. He made his way down the corridor, toward the stairs, which he climbed quite slowly. At the top of the stairs, he paused and thought again about the awful idea that had come into his head.

Would it be so terrible, having her permanently his? Could the great Gellert Grindelwald have a bride? Would it endear him even more, make him seem more relatable, to be a married man?

No! Stop this absurd nonsense right this moment! he screamed in his head. He shut his eyes and thought of Albus. He thought of twining his fingers through Albus', holding their bloodstained palms together as they murmured spells to protect themselves from one another. He needed Albus dead now, but he couldn't do it himself. He needed his movement to grow. Queenie was going to play a role in all of that, but what would her role be beside him? He was tempted to go to his Seeing Skull and try for a vision, but he was afraid of what he might see. He didn't actually want to know. Right now, he just wanted her. He just wanted to hold her face and kiss her and whisper to her that she looked marvelous.

He walked down the corridor to her quarters and knocked. He didn't have to knock; her rooms were unlocked and he could walk right in if he wanted to. But he gave her the dignity of knocking. The door swung open, and Queenie answered in her plum-coloured dressing gown. She grinned broadly and tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Hi." She stepped aside to let him come in, and she admitted, "I was kind of hoping you might come by to say goodnight. That was a very nice toast you gave."