The prison was surprisingly light. The sun filtered through window bars and added a certain shine to the marble floor. Dumbledore strode purposely towards the back of the area, eager to get this trip over with and quickly. His heeled boots were the only sound, echoing across the room. His cloak swished around him, a dark blue for this somber visit. For a moment, he let himself imagine how it used to be.

The moment ended quickly. He could not afford to think about the pain his old friend had caused. He had to remain impassive especially at this time. The wizarding world was only now coming down from the turbulence caused by Voldemort. For a few years, it had been a power gap that many wizards and witches were eager to fill. He had done his best to smooth things over but it wasn't enough.

The power gap had only ended because Lucius. As much as Dumbledore hated working with the blonde moron, he had to admit that Malfoy had some uses. Number one was his insane amount of gold. The money was very important when it came to power. Still, money wasn't everything. Especially since Lucius Malfoy had been a Death Eater, though supposedly under the influence of the Imperious Curse

No, it was much more complicated than that.

There needed to be a leader. And young Harry was perfect. Sadly, he wasn't ready yet. Dumbledore was forced to place him in a home with muggles. A little gold ensured that the young boy would be abused quiet severely. Though muggles disgusted him, they, like Malfoy, were very useful. And considering the amount of charms that could be used to control them, very important. Manpower was always important.

But, he reminded himself as he came to a stop, he wasn't here for that. If he was being honest, he was here to gloat. To tell his old friend that he had succeeded where Gillert had failed. To enjoy the hallowed look on his face when he realized that the Elder Wand was his. Everything adding on top of each other would destroy Gillert. Dumbledore knew that the man was already in a depression.

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Still, this would be fun.

He pressed his wand to the cell, wordlessly opening it so that Gillert was faced with sunlight. However, Gillert wasn't the only one there. A young girl, he thought while running his gaze over her small form. Malnourished. He estimated her age to be around five. At the sunlight, she budged back but opened her eyes and glanced up. The similarities between her and Gillert were astounding.

Her hair was white. Not blonde-white like the Malfoy's, but straight white. Her eyes were grey but as he watched them, the sunlight turned them blue like Gillert's. Her skin was pale, though not nearly so as her face, and she looked as if the last time she had a bath was ages ago. Gillert was watching him. Dumbledore made a conscious effort to ignore the girl and focused on his old-friend.

"Come to gloat?" Gillert's voice was raw and rough from disuse and his words were clipped.

Dumbledore just stared, all the words he had wanted to say gone. They disappeared and faded down into his throat, his mind only able to focus on the girl. For some reason, fear was the only thought. Mind-numbing fear that he'd only ever experienced around one thing.

"You did it then?" Dumbledore asked, his voice higher than was normal.

Gillert only laughed and crawled backwards, clearly seeking the dark. The girl just watched, stone-faced. Dumbledore watched in horror as her fingers seemed to degenerate, becoming a black mass, before turning solid once more. He noted that nothing was close to her. Even the bugs went a long way to avoid touching her.

"Does she have a name?" Dumbledore asked, calmer now.

"Selina."

It wasn't his old friend who answered but the girl. Selina. Dumbledore rolled it over in his mind. It was old-fashioned but neat. It fit her, he decided. He watched her as random parts of her body became the black mass and then flesh once more. He made an on-the-spot decision and raised his wand. With a quick call upon his magic, he sent a stunning spell at her. She fell silently to the ground.

Gillert just watched.

He waved his wand once more and she floated up, her long and matted hair falling down. He guided her through the air out of the cell where he set her down roughly. Glancing at his old friend, he sneered. Flicking his wrist, he whispered the spell most dark wizards seemed to adore.

"Avada Kedavra."