2A/N I do not own Harry Potter. Italics here would be French! For now, this is a one-shot; mainly because I am still working on my Merlin fic and am not so sure how good wither would be if I work on them simultaneously. Aribert Heim a.k.a the Butcher of Munchausen is real, in my fic he fled to France and stayed there under the assumed identity of Émile Gratien; In real life he fled to Egypt through France Italy and Spain and died in Cairo in 1992. His son Rudiger(real life name)-in my fic at least- changed his name to Michele Gratien and married Eira Rosier(possibly made her up, but I honestly don't remember if I heard it at some point or not). I also really hope that Fanfiction takes the formatting!
Dear Professor Albus Dumbledore: Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Order of Merlin: First Class,
Dec. 18,1991
It may seem unorthodox that I am writing you in this manner, but I would like to inquire about transferring to Hogwarts for the next school year. I am currently a first-year student at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. I have taken the liberty to attach the transcript of my first term at school, and, should you agree to discuss with me a transfer, I can obtain letters of recommendation from my professors if needed. The reason why I am asking this of you is because I have heard wonderful stories of Hogwarts and the students there, and, alas, I have been having some trouble with the students here. Yes, I realize that running from problems is never the way to solve them, but these problems are beyond my reach, and hopefully if I am beyond theirs, it will be forgotten.
I respectfully await your reply,
Cassiopée Gratien
Dear Ms. Gratien, Dec. 20, 1991
It is a pleasure to know that you have been an excellent student during your time as a student in Beauxbatons. As far as transferring goes, we would need some three letters of recommendation from your professors, and to speak with your parents. It is quite short notice and the holidays are soon to be over, but I would like to schedule a meeting with you to test your skills in Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Potions, History of Magic as a sort of placement exam. You may find attached some suggested times. I am sorry to hear that you are having difficulties with some students in Beauxbatons, and suggest that you reach out to your professors and tell them about it. They are there not only to teach children such as yourself, but to protect you. If the Easter holidays are not the best time, please let me know, and I'll see what we can arrange for the end-of-year holidays.
A pleasure,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
-Dear Professor Dumbledore, Dec. 23, 1991
I can travel to Britain for the Easter Holidays, anytime between Saturday March 27 and Sunday 4 suits me. I must admit that it's not many students that I have a problem with. Just one, and telling the professors will do nothing to stop it, you see. She is my sister, and were I to tell someone, she would do the impossible against me. As for a meeting with my parents, well I don't believe that they would appreciate me going behind their backs. I haven't very well spoken to them, sir. Is what I tell you in the strictest confidence?
I will await your reply before I tell you my reasons sir.
Cassiopée Gratien
Dear Ms Gratien, Dec. 25, 1991
Everything you tell me is in the strictest of confidence. I will not breathe a word of it to anyone without your express permission.
Happy Christmas,
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Dear professor Dumbledore, Dec. 26, 1991
Thank you for maintaining my trust. It is hard for me to write this letter, I am not only betraying my family when I say this, but am losing their trust. I cannot hold this burden any longer. I recently discovered some shocking secrets about my family's past that I wish I could forget about. But everytime that I look at them, all I see is their deeds. My sister does poke fun at me in school, but I mainly ignore it. And if it were just her, I wouldn't be considering this transfer. My parents were Death Eaters, probably would return to him should Lord Voldemort return, knock-on-wood. And my grandfather is a fugitive, a war criminal. I realize that I shouldn't be asking you to keep this to yourself, seeing as you hold a position at your Ministry's Wizengamot, but I beg of you not to mention this to anyone else. I found out what they used to do, and now I cannot even look at them normally. I cannot reconcile what I have always seen them as, with what they have done to others. The burden of knowing is too much. Believe me when I tell you, Professor, that I have laid awake at night, too frightened to go to sleep, and going off to Beauxbatons would be remaining too close to them. I have mere days left of the Christmas holidays before school is back in session. I will ask for my professor's letters of recommendation then.
Respectfully,
Cassiopée Gratien
P.S. Happy Christmas to you as well professor. I heard that you like trying new sweets so I'm sending you some Violettes, it's candy from Toulouse that I love, though the taste isn't for everyone.
Dear Ms. Gratien, Dec. 28, 1991
Your family's secret is safe with me. I will tell no one what you have told me in your previous letters. There is still the matter of speaking with your parents we must discuss. If I may, you should approach them sooner, rather than later about wanting to transfer out of Beauxbatons. The latest that we should get in touch would be the beginning of June. I look forward to seeing you over Easter Holidays for your placement exams. There is a village situated near Hogwarts, it's called Hogsmeade, should you need a place to stay. By the way, those sweets you sent me were very peculiar, in a good way. Are they made from violet flowers?
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
"So, what's with all the correspondence you've been getting laely?"
"Just talking with a friend." Cassie answered vaguely
"What friend? Gabrielle?" her brother asked with a furrowed brow.
"No, not Gabrielle. You don't know him." she replied absentmindedly
"Oh, so it's a him?" he said surprised, before getting a teasing look in his eye. "Let's read what he wrote you here." he said, reaching over to snatch the letter from her, but he wasn't fast enough as Cassie folded the letter and put it down her shirt."Guess I'll need his name now that you've hidden his letter where I won't grab it, can't go letting my baby sister get hurt by some boy who only thinks ab-outkissing" he said, mumbling the end as she had her hand over his mouth. He reached up and pried her hand from his mouth. "I suppose it's better than you not eating. What's wrong? You barely touch your food at the table, and whenever we have breakfast alone it's like you're a million miles away."
"There's nothing wrong!" Cassie said quickly, hoping he has no clue about just what she found out at the beginning of the holiday.
"Okay, no need to get all defensive about it!" he said standing up with his hands raised and backing away. "I was just trying to make conversation, but if that's the way you're gonna be, why bother." he finished, walking away from her.
She hated it, not knowing how to speak with her brother and sister, now knowing how to look her parents in the eyes. The first day back from school, she found out horrendous things, she found out just who and what her grandfather truly is. And she found out what those ugly tattoos on her parents forearms are. She retreated into herself, hiding in her room whenever her parents were not working, steering clear of the west wing of the manor, her grandfather's wing.
She'd always found it strange that he never left the house. She knew now why. On the days when they would go into town, Cassie remained in the bookshop, looking up books, trying to make sense of everything that was going through her head. On Christmas eve, when they hosted a grand ball, she feigned being sick and remained locked away in her room. 'How many of those people know what my parents are? How many know about my grandfather? Definitely the older men he seems to mingle with. He speaks to them as if they've known each other their whole lives!' she thought all night about how they could pretend to be such kind, loving people when in all reality they were monsters.
She was desperate, what she saw, what she felt, it was horrible and it made her skin crawl. Come Christmas day she halfheartedly opened her presents and trudged back up to her room with them in tow. She would avoid eye-contact at all costs, and was never in the room with just her parents alone. But of course, no-one noticed that. Only her brother noticed that she had lost her appetite, and barely so.
The day after Christmas Day her family, sans grand-père, went into town on business. Since the children couldn't attend, Cassie and her sibling went their separate ways. Cassie had a vague idea of where the muggle library was and needed to do more research. She needed to know. She looked around the library, finding the aisle she was looking for and dug in. All her research brought her to one name. Simon. She had muggle currency and called around in a phone booth, When she finally got in contact with someone who could help, she was ecstatic.
"Hello, this is Alfred Aedtner speaking." came the heavily accented voice of a man.
"Bounjour, Are you the policeman?"
"Yes, I am Miss. Is there something I can help you with?"
"Oui, monsieur. I have information on the whereabouts of a war criminal."
"Yes, and which one would that be Miss?" he asked, reluctant to listen to the little girl.
"Émile Gratien, monsieur."
"I will have to look up that name, I'm afraid I don't recognise it. Is there a number I can reach you at?"
"No, monsieur, there is no number. But you must believe me! He used to go by another name. Sometimes, when he is too soûl, too drunk, he starts yelling in German. He slurs when he talks, but I heard him say a name once. I do not know if it is his name, but he says Aribert." she told the man on the other end of the receiver in a thick French accent.
"Aribert, Aribert Heim?!" the voice asked, his excitement clear.
"Oui, monsieur. Heim."
"Your grandfather, does he know him?!"
"I think he is him." she said in a small voice, barely holding back the tears. "My grandfather never leaves the house, monsieur. My parents will be going to the Opéra for New Year's. They won't be back until well after midnight and my siblings have parties to go to so they won't be home either. I believe that he will be alone in the house with me. Monsieur, please. I just found out what he has done and I don't think I could live with myself if he goes unpunished because of me." Cassie said, the tears now flowing freely down her face.
"Where do you live?" he asked urgently, the sound of pen scratching on paper can be heard through the receiver.
"Château d'Aubigny."
"When will your parents be leaving for the Opera?"
"They wish to send off the year at the Opera House. They leave around five for cocktails and dinner, and the opera begins around eight. Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg by Wagner, I believe, is what they are watching" Cassie said, frantically feeding more coins in the phonebooth, the guilt rising rapidly.
"Do you reside inside the Château? Or around it. I need to know perfectly."
"Inside it! My family owns it."
"May I ask why you are telling me this?" he asked after a brief pause
"I found out my grand-père was a monster last week. I saw- how he boasted about his time working with the Nazis and all the scientific experiments he did. I thought nothing of it until I saw a human skull on his desk. I was sneaking around, we are forbidden from going into his study, and I peeked through the crack in the door and saw it. Please monsieur. I do not take this lightly, he is my blood, but he hurt so many… Please." she begged brokenly.
"I believe you. I will contact the proper authorities and go. Make sure you do not get hurt, I wouldn't forgive myself if such a brave little girl as you would get hurt."
"Oui, monsieur, I will take care. Thank you for believing me."
"Thank you. For your bravery and sense of justice. It's not something one sees everyday, especially in someone so young." Alfred said seriously.
"I should go now, I only managed to get away from my family for a little while. Au revoir, monsieur."
"Goodbye." Cassie hung up the receiver after he said that and ran back to the library where she told her siblings she would be. Luckily for her, they had not yet returned from shopping, so she took the time to wash her face and compose herself, to hide any evidence of the plan to arrest grand-père on New Year's.
Come New Year's Eve day, Cassie was extremely nervous, knowing what would be going on. Her sister had traveled already, her friends' party was in Lyon where she lived, and she got permission to spend the rest of the holiday there. All that was left was her brother, her parents and her grand-père. And her. She made it a point to over-eat all day long so that her stomach-ache would be believable at the end of the day. She had been invited to her friend's house to send off the year as well, but wrote her early in the holiday to excuse herself. The Delacours lived near enough that a simple train ride in the morning would have given them enough time, so she wouldn't have had to go just after Christmas like her sister did. Soon enough, her brother's friends showed up to take him to the party and Cassie was left with just her parents and grand-père.
"Are you sure you wouldn't want to come with us? We have the box seats, we can bring you too." Her father Michele, asked gently, peeking into her room while she was exaggerating how much her stomach hurt.
"No, thank you Father. I don't feel well here, doing nothing. Imagine at the theater listening to something I don't even understand!" she said dramatically plopping down on her bed.
"Okay, then," Michele chuckled. "I'll let grand-père know that you are sick so he can take care of you. You know he used to be a doctor?" Michele asked, not noticing how pale she got when he mentioned being treated by him.
"N-No. I-I-I'm fine. Nothing a seltzer water and rest won't fix." Cassie stuttered out quickly.
"If you're sure. We'll see you tomorrow, Cassie. Happy New Year."
"Yea, Happy New Year Father." she returned dully, not that he noticed.
"Cassie! Come say goodbye." her mother called up from the foyer. As she walked past her grandfather's study, she saw him caressing his wand thoughtfully and quickly left when he started to turn around.
"Goodbye, Mother. You look beautiful. I do hope the opera is entertaining." Cassie said politely, forcing herself to hug them
"Yes, well, Meistersinger always is." she said with a smile. "It's where we met, actually. Some simpleton sold us both the same box seats and the rest is history." Eira finished, looking at her husband lovingly. "Now we go there to welcome the new year, like it's a new beginning."
'How could she stand there and seem like she loves when I've seen what horrors she's done?' Cassie thought in disgust.
"Don't forget that there will be a small dinner for you and your grand-père on the table at seven. You know how punctual your grand-père is." Michele warned her.
"Yes father, I will be dressed and seated at the table at seven precisely."
"Good. We really should get going if we don't want to miss our reservations for dinner, love"
"Leaving without saying goodbye to me, are you?" grand-père asked from the stairwell.
"We wouldn't dream of it Émile." Eira said with a smile walking up and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
"Father, Happy New Year. I do hope you and Cassie have a pleasant evening." Michele told his father with a firm handshake. His words just made Cassie's guilt rise up in her throat, a moment of regret over what she had done passed through her mind. When the door clicked shut, she played her emotions off as an upset stomach and went to her room.
"I have a letter to respond to, grand-père. Would you mind very much if I went up and did it now?" she said timidly, trying not to seem too nervous.
"Run along, darling. It's five, dinner will be at seven. It gives us both time to wash up and get dressed."
"Yes sir. Seven on the dot." Cassie replied obediently, cringing inwardly at him. She loved him, she truly did, but everything she saw...it just...makes her want to be sick.
She quickly replied to Dumbledore's last letter that yes, the sweets were made from the flower. She debated telling him about what would happen tonight, but left it out, opting instead to wish him a happy new year and sent the letter with her owl. She took a quick bath, dressed appropriately for dinner and snuck into her parent's room. She knew where they kept the sleeping draughts, she just had to figure out a way to get her grandfather to drink it. And soon.
The guilt was eating at her, making her doubt her every move, but she knew that if he was awake, he would look at her in hate. He would do whatever to get away from the authorities and she couldn't have that happening. It killed her heart, everytime she thought about it, but he needed to be brought to justice for all those people he murdered.
"grand-père? I've made you a cocktail, for us to drink to the new year with dinner." Cassie called through the door to the study.
"How sweet of you, dear. Did you make yourself a cocktail too?"
"No, I'm only drinking pineapple juice. I made you a blue moon. That's one you like,right?" she said faking innocence while holding the platter with the cocktail glass out for him and the tall glass for her.
"How in the world do you know how to make that? You're only eleven!"
"I used to watch how it was made when I was younger and picked it up. Mamselle Cat'linne says I show much promise in , it turned out far more purple than I remember." Cassie answered holding the platter out for him to accept the drink with a sheepish look.
"Let us go to the sitting area for a while, we can toast there."
"Comme tu veux grand-père." Cassie said, leading the way.
"Ah." her grandfather exclaimed as he settled himself, "Now we can toast!"
"To a new year full of achievements and surprises!' he said, lifting his cocktail glass to her.
"Salut!" Cassie exclaimed, lifting the glass to her lips while eyeing her grandfather carefully.
He downed the cup in one and scrunched up his face, placing the cup on the table.
"I believe you may have been too liberal with the gin, darling. It's going straight to my head!" he said, his words already slurring and his eyes closing. She waited with baited breath until he began snoring and retrieved his wand from his pocket. She ran over to his study and locked all the memory vials of her grandfather and parents into a portable cupboard and ran upstairs to hide them in her room under the loose floorboard. She ran back downstairs and hid his wand from sight, sitting on the step and waiting for the men to arrive. At half past seven, men dressed in black forced open the door and ran in, guns at the ready, scaring Cassie into shrinking further into the steps.
"Fan out, search the chateau, we need to find him before he escapes us again!" Alfred said. He spotted her cowering by the railing and approached her slowly.
"You must be the young lady who spoke to me."
Cassie could only nod, tears falling down her face.
"Where is your grandfather?" he asked calmly.
"He is in the sitting room. I used one of my mother's sleeping pills to put him to sleep, monsieur. I didn't want to see his face when he realized I had turned him in." she said in the most heart wrenching manner.
"He's out cold, sir. What do we do?"
"How long ago did you give him the pills?"
"Just now, monsieur, maybe fifteen minutes. Please don't tell my parents it was I. They would never forgive me." she begged him.
"I will not tell them." he promised.
"Thank you," she said in a quiet voice.
"His study? Would you tell me where it is?"
"Just up the stairs second door to the right on the first landing." she directed him, sitting back down on the staircase and wrapping her arms around her legs. Thirty minutes later, Michele and Eira came bursting into the room, wands at the ready.
"Our wards went off, Cassie, what happened?" Michele asked first.
"Grand-père. He got arrested. They are searching his study now." Cassie said in a hollow voice, not wanting to look at them for fear of saying it was her.
Michele and Eira both marched up the stairs straight to his study only to find their way blocked by men in uniforms.
"I demand to know the meaning of this! You break into my house, arrest my elderly father, and are rummaging through private property!"
"I have a warrant." Alfred said in a monotone, reading through some of the papers that were stored and holding it out for Michele to take.
"This warrant is not for us! There is no Aribert Heim in this household!" Michele yelled out, his vein popping out his temple and spit flying everywhere.
"No, this is the place. It's got your father's penmanship, records of his time at Mauthausen, and when he served in the 6th SS Mountain Division Nord. Pictures of him with Himmler, Ziereis, Stangl, Brandt. There's one of Hitler himself." Alfred said, holding up the pictures. "I would advise you to contact your lawyer, Mr. Heim. Or would you rather Mr. Gratien." he asked, looking up from the files in his hands.
Michele stormed off to his room to call the lawyer his father liked so much. Eira went back downstairs to usher her daughter into her room and told her to lock the door.
"They may have a warrant to search your grand-père's belongings, but not ours, if they try to come in do not let them! I have to call your brother and sister back. We must remain together through this." she said desperately
"They won't get here until morning anyways, mother. Let them have their fun." Cassie told her, trying to calm her down, afraid of her fury.
"Yes. You're right. You will finish your holidays with the Delacours, am I understood. Your sister will remain in Lyon, and your brother will have to stay at the Delacour's as well. His friends will be traveling and he cannot leave just yet." she said, mostly to herself as she was rambling by that point.
When Cassie was sure that she wouldn't come back, she locked the door and pried open the floorboard, storing the portable cupboard away in the secret compartment of her Valise.
"Happy New Year." Cassie muttered to herself hours later in her room when the grandfather clock that stood in the hallway just outside her door struck midnight.