The German Ministry's borrowed office was standing room only. Every core Saint was present: Vinda Rosier, Grimmson, Vogel, and Rouse Wilkinson sitting quietly in the corner.
Grindelwald was running through the operation.
"Vinda, you and Grimmson take a team to Durmstrang and secure it." He tapped the armrest and a notebook on the desk rose from the surface and sailed into Rosier's hands. "That contains the gaps in Durmstrang's defensive enchantments. Bring enough people and keep casualties at zero. Theirs and yours both."
"Understood." Rosier read the implication correctly.
Durmstrang's student population was almost entirely pureblood, and the optics of harming underage wizards would damage the Saints' public standing in ways that were difficult to recover from. Durmstrang wasn't a serious military target. It was a sensitive one, and it had to be handled accordingly.
"Vogel." Grindelwald turned. "There are enemy informants inside our own territory. Leak the news that I've been ambushed. Let the panic spread and wait for them to expose themselves, then collect them all at once. And don't do what your father did, no sweeping purges, no collective punishment. Handle the core offenders decisively and stop there."
Vogel accepted the assignment without much visible comfort.
His father's methods had been too blunt. Severity that broad pushed potential allies into opposition, and Vogel had spent enough time studying that chapter of history to know exactly where the strategy had failed.
Orders went out one by one, each matched to the person best positioned to execute it. Compared to Voldemort, Grindelwald's organizational thinking was considerably more sophisticated. He simply preferred not to spend his time on administrative details, which was why Rosier normally handled that layer.
A sharp crack split the air.
Tom appeared at Grindelwald's side, and the room came to its feet.
"Young Master Riddle."
"Sit down." Tom waved and took the chair that had been placed beside Grindelwald's specifically for him. "Carry on."
"We were nearly finished anyway."
Grindelwald confirmed the ten Saints who would accompany them to Bulgaria, then dismissed the room.
"Rouse. Stay a moment." Tom caught Wilkinson before he reached the door. "You look like you've gained weight."
Rouse smiled with mild embarrassment. He moved to return to his seat, then redirected to the one Tom indicated closer to the front. "Lady Rosier didn't assign me anything in Germany. I've been at home with nothing to do for weeks. It would be difficult not to gain weight."
"She was being considerate." Tom sipped his tea. "Unless my timing is off, Solenne's due soon?"
Rouse nodded. "About two weeks."
"What are you planning to do with the situation?"
Rouse went quiet. Solenne had approached him with a clear agenda, but whatever her original intentions, she was still carrying his child.
"The Schneider family can support one more person without difficulty." Grindelwald didn't usually involve himself in this kind of personal matter, but the reasonable relationship between Tom and Rouse earned it a sentence. "Keep her. A woman who can bear you an heir has demonstrated her value."
"Another child costs you nothing and gains you everything."
Schneider was Rouse's maternal family line, old German pureblood, the Junker landowner type, the kind of family that had provided resources when Grindelwald was building his movement and hadn't hesitated to return to his side now.
Tom nodded. "Grindelwald's right. The ability to have children is a significant advantage. After the birth, you could try being honest with her about where things stand. She might come around."
"Thank you, Mr. Grindelwald. Thank you, Young Master Riddle." Rouse sounded genuinely grateful.
Tom talked with him for another pot of tea, mostly asking questions. Dumbledore was still in contact with Rouse and knew he had returned to Germany, but hadn't invited him into the Order of the Phoenix.
Perhaps there was no need. Or perhaps the trust hadn't been established yet.
After Rouse left, Tom picked up a book from the side table. "When do we leave?"
Grindelwald's expression turned lightly amused. "Do I even need to go? This is your event. You could lead it yourself."
"Hm." Tom's voice went mild in a particular way that suggested it wasn't mild at all. "If you want Dumbledore to find out about our arrangement, I could certainly go alone. And if he does figure it out, I'd have no choice but to deal with the problem permanently. For everyone's peace of mind."
Grindelwald's smile went rigid.
He believed Tom. That was the issue. Over recent weeks Tom had been spending significant time with Ravenclaw, the two of them closeted in the learning space villa for reasons Grindelwald hadn't been fully briefed on. Tom was generally easygoing, even pleasant to be around. The moment anything touched his core interests, a different version of him appeared, and it was not pleasant at all.
"We go this afternoon," Grindelwald said, dropping the humor. "I'll handle the opening. It's a formality. Oblansk has organized a public ceremony to announce the allegiance. That will almost certainly be when they move. When it does, you take over."