December 25th, 1968
Albus--
Happy Christmas, again. Busy with Voldemort, I would imagine?
I admit that it doesn't much appeal to me to write and never receive a response. But old Natalia Fedotevya just fell afoul of a rogue giant, and I had an owl a day from her...
I'm getting old, Albus. I suppose you are too. Still lonely? Still hiding?
I assume you've figured out by now that I don't hate you. After all, they do say you're still clever.
Gellert Grindelwald
December 25th, 1970
Albus--
Even here in the wastes it's reached me. News of the disappearances. Voldemort's making his move, isn't he? I know the pattern. I used such a similar one myself. Wizarding Britain will be at open war in, what, six months?
Owl me when you're through with him. I can't imagine he'll give you any more trouble than I did.
Gellert Grindelwald
[entry in the
Grindeldore for Goats Blogathon Venture; sponsor me
here!]