Chapter 170: A Conversation Between Dumbledore And Grindelwald
Speaking, and without waiting for Dumbledore’s reply, he chuckled again: “Forget it, what does a dying old man like me care about all this?”
“…”
Dumbledore opened his mouth, many words wanting to be spoken, but they were stuck in his throat, unable to come out.
Amidst his complex expression, Grindelwald slowly flipped through Vaughn’s letter. After a long time, he pushed aside the last page and smiled faintly: “Amber light…”
He turned his head and looked around the courtyard, also filled with amber light. He shook his head slightly: “Another old man nearing his end!”
“…Are you sure?”
“Of course, it’s a very obvious phenomenon.” Grindelwald smiled. He extended his hand, and on that withered hand, which barely possessed any magic power, the twilight light gathered like fire in his palm:
“I have no magic power left, but this light is the witness to my death, and the last gift the world gives me. I can still control it as if I were manipulating magic power… That ‘DeSantis’ is in the same situation!”
Saying this, his heterochromatic eyes fixed on Dumbledore, his smile unchanging: “You should know… you’ve seen it too!”
“…”
“It always pursues our most talented direction. I excel at Dark Arts and prophecy, so in my early hundreds, it appeared by my side like a prophecy and destiny. ‘DeSantis’ seems to excel at Memory Magic, so it has filled his mind, and even his creations cannot avoid it.”
“And you… my dear, you excel at Alchemy, and you forcefully pry into destiny. It has already caught up to you in the Aether, hasn’t it?”
Looking at Grindelwald’s gentle smile, Dumbledore was silent for a moment, then let out a long breath: “Yes…”
“Then you’d better keep your distance, you still have many things to do!”
“I’ve already minimized my entries into the Aether.”
“Is that so? When was the last time you saw it?”
“A few months ago…” Dumbledore said. The tranquil atmosphere made him feel as if he had returned to over 90 years ago. He subconsciously explained: “Vaughn showed talent in Alchemy at the time, and I had to be his guide…”
“No need to explain.” Grindelwald slowly shook his head. “You always have your reasons for doing things. I couldn’t interfere with or change your mind before, and it’s even more impossible now.”
Dumbledore was speechless.
After a while, he sighed: “I’m sorry, Gellert…”
“No need to apologize, these are all our own choices, or you could call it fate’s playfulness.” Although he said this, Grindelwald clearly didn’t want to continue this topic.
Although time is indeed the most effective Obliviation spell.
But some things cannot be erased until death… like love and hate!
He tilted his head and looked at the courtyard, which seemed frozen in twilight, narrowing his eyes slightly: “Don’t worry too much about Vaughn Weasley. His talent is even greater than you anticipated. He sensed DeSantis’s abnormality. Although he has his reasons, the most fundamental reason is that his spirituality is very strong.”
“His spirituality is warning him, he just doesn’t know it himself. DeSantis didn’t deceive him, so next time, his spirituality will still play a role, making him instinctively avoid places where DeSantis might appear.”
“Is everything really alright?”
Grindelwald chuckled: “This is the first time I’ve seen you worry so much about someone… If you’re not at ease, you can go there and tell him these words. Oh… suddenly I remembered, when you encountered ‘Twilight’ in the Aether, he was also present. Don’t you want him to know you’re dying?”
“…Mm!”
“Then keep hiding it. That ‘DeSantis’ should be similar to me now, probably too weak to run around anymore.”
Dumbledore nodded, accepting Grindelwald’s suggestion.
However, his consultation was not over. The following words were his true doubts: “Gellert, since DeSantis is dying, why is he still out there causing trouble?”
Hearing this, Grindelwald turned his head and gazed at him calmly for a moment: “What are you trying to say?”
Dumbledore looked directly into his heterochromatic eyes: “I don’t want to express anything, I just find it strange. Even with this last gift from the world, you can still cast spells, but after all, you are at the end of your rope. What is driving him to choose this time to stand up and resist the Magical Congress?”
“DeSantis is an Italian surname. Coincidentally, you are Austrian, and Italy is to the south. Your saints are spread throughout Central European countries. Even more coincidentally, when you decided to challenge the Statute of Secrecy more than a decade ago, you chose North America as your breakthrough point…”
At this point, Dumbledore stopped abruptly.
The rest did not need to be said.
The twilight light dyed everything in the courtyard a reddish-orange.
However, this warm hue, which should have brought peace, tranquility, and contemplation, was now so heavy it was almost suffocating.
Dumbledore’s bright eyes gazed at Grindelwald. His ludicrous pink and purple robe swelled slightly, indicating immense magic power brewing.
Compared to his killing intent, Grindelwald remained as calm as ever. He gazed into Dumbledore’s eyes for a long time before smiling gently and saying, “You are still the same as you were long ago: suspicious, stubborn, and always suspecting others with the utmost malice.”
Dumbledore remained unmoved: “I just want you to answer my question.”
“Will you believe it?”
“Tell me, and I’ll judge for myself.”
Grindelwald sighed: “I have never forgotten my promise to you. More than 50 years ago, we agreed to have one last duel. I lost, so I kept my word and never stepped out of here for the rest of my life. But you don’t believe it. You demanded that all European countries send Aurors to surround me, leaving me no private space, not even to go to the toilet.”
“Even more than ten years ago, when ‘Twilight’ descended upon me, other countries thought I was doomed and stopped paying attention to a powerless old man. Yet you still didn’t let your guard down. If it weren’t for your good student diverting your attention, you would have stayed at Nurmengard. Even so, today you still suspect me… Albus, why have you treated me so abominably?”
His calm tone conveyed grievance and indignation, as if he truly didn’t understand.
But Dumbledore was not moved at all. He stared into Grindelwald’s heterochromatic eyes: “Because your ideology is too dangerous, so dangerous that I dare not relax even a little, unless…”
“Unless I truly die?”
“Yes!”
The decisive words caused Grindelwald to close his eyes gently. When he opened them again a moment later, there was discernible heartbreak and bitterness within them.
And anger!
“My ideology?”
This wizened old wizard, so thin he was all skin and bones, almost shapeless, his heterochromatic eyes suddenly became bright and sharp: “You still think I’m acting for selfish reasons? Don’t deceive yourself, Albus. Can you forget the hatred for your father’s death in Azkaban? Can you forget the humiliation Ariana suffered? You…”
“You’re not allowed to mention her!”
Dumbledore’s beard trembled.
Grindelwald paused. The light in his eyes dimmed again. The brief emotional outburst drained his meager strength, and he gasped for air.
After a while, he said hoarsely: “I’m sorry… but I still have to say, where there is oppression, there is resistance. Hatred doesn’t appear out of thin air, nor is it because of my ideology, my speeches, my manipulation… Class contradictions are generated by the classes themselves. With or without me, they are there, like a brewing volcano, destined to erupt one day!”
He seemed truly dejected. After saying this, he no longer argued and sighed: “Prejudice is a mountain in people’s hearts. I cannot convince you. Whether you believe it or not, ‘DeSantis’ indeed has nothing to do with me. In fact, even without DeSantis, there is Schmidt, there is Martin, there is John.”
“I don’t know why ‘DeSantis’ chose to organize a force to resist pure-bloods at the end of his life, but you should be aware of the oppression of non-pure-bloods by American pure-bloods. The enemy has their knives at our throats. Perhaps he just wants to accomplish something he was too afraid to do in the last moments of his life?”
This was indeed a plausible possibility.
Dumbledore was silent for a moment, then stood up: “I will continue to watch you, Gellert.”
“Are you leaving?” Grindelwald asked.
“…”
“…I don’t know when we’ll be able to meet again. You should change your temper, Albus. I can overlook your questioning me, but if you treat Vaughn Weasley like this in the future, will he overlook it too?”
Dumbledore, who had already taken a few steps, paused upon hearing this, and did not turn back:
“Vaughn is not like you.”
With that, he slowly walked away amidst the lingering twilight radiance of the courtyard.
Behind him was a long silence.
Grindelwald no longer looked at his retreating back. He turned his gaze towards the direction from which the light was shining. In his eyes, there was nothing there, only an endless twilight.
This was the final warning from time, a warning that his life was nearing its end, a warning that he should enjoy the peace and solitude after death.
After a long period of silence, in this courtyard where time itself seemed to have stopped, Grindelwald murmured softly:
“Heh, I’ve heard of Vaughn Weasley long ago, Albus. How is he different from me? His ambition, his ideals, his actions… You’re just hesitating, you’re afraid that if you kill Vaughn Weasley, the English wizarding world will rapidly decline after your death.”
“In matters of great importance, you are always so indecisive, so lost between advance and retreat. For this, you even resort to deceiving yourself, just as you deceived yourself into liking Muggles to oppose me back then.”
“Alas, I should have recognized your nature long ago…”
The murmuring gradually faded. Grindelwald continued to gaze in the direction of the light. The light fell into his pupils, orange-red, blazing, surging…
Like fire!
…
In the early morning, Lupin was still guarding the hotel lobby.
This was a luxurious hotel operated by a Muggle company, located near the docks. It was where the Federation had arranged accommodation for the delegation. Although the Federation’s foundation was the Statute of Secrecy, they shouldn’t have been so deeply entangled with Muggles.
However, in reality, compared to true conservatives like America, the Federation was quite open-minded and owned many Muggle businesses.
The catering group that owned this hotel was one of them.
“…The Federation and the countries have different demands. Each country enforces the Statute of Secrecy for various reasons, such as pure-bloods wanting to monopolize magic, wizarding citizens yearning for peace and stability, or certain cowards being frightened by historical witch hunts… The Federation is different. We promote the Statute of Secrecy for the sake of the entire world.”
Ajinbad was also in the lobby, sitting next to Lupin, talking incessantly.
Both were waiting for Vaughn to return.
Coupled with the Federation providing refuge to the delegation, Lupin found it difficult to slip away quietly. Initially, he just hummed a few perfunctory replies, but as they talked, he became engrossed.
Hearing Ajinbad’s discourse at this moment, Lupin couldn’t help but ask curiously: “For the world? What do you mean?”
“It’s very simple.” Ajinbad extended his finger and drew a circle around the American Muggles in the hall. “Muggles have too large a base. Imagine, if one day, these Muggles suddenly found out that a group of wizards who can fly and cast spells live among them, how would they react?”
“Uh…”
Lupin, who didn’t know much about Muggles, hesitated.
Ajinbad raised his hand as if encouraging him: “Think carefully. In fact, you werewolves are the most able to empathize with the Muggle perspective.”
Werewolves empathizing with the Muggle perspective?
Lupin frowned: “Fear?”
He was puzzled and asked: “Why?”
“Because they don’t have what wizards have.” Ajinbad, whose interest was piqued, said enthusiastically: “Let’s take an example. The Muggle Repelling Charm. This spell is too simple. A second-year student can master it with some training.”
“But from a Muggle’s perspective, this spell is terrifying. No one informs them, there are no warnings, signs, or regulations. Just a strange person with a small stick mutters a spell at them, and they ‘naturally’ leave as if they were puppets. Isn’t that terrifying?”
“What about Memory Magic? Good heavens, one’s privacy, secrets, memories, thoughts, all nakedly exposed to others’ eyes. Isn’t that terrifying?”
“Not to mention all sorts of Poison Curses, Curses, and Killing Curses that are difficult to guard against even for wizards. How can Muggles resist?”
Listening to Ajinbad’s analogies and descriptions, Lupin gradually realized that what the other person was saying was correct. This inequality in power was indeed similar to the relationship between werewolves and wizards.
Werewolves generally feared wizards because wizards could use magic, while werewolves only had fangs and claws!
Of course, wizards feared werewolves more. No one wanted to be scratched by a werewolf.
However, although he understood Ajinbad’s explanation, Lupin still felt that the other party was too absolute. He retorted: “Muggles might indeed be afraid of the unknown, but that’s only because they don’t understand. If Muggles could understand wizards and get used to magic…”
Before he could finish, he heard a voice say: “Once Muggles understand wizards and get used to magic, that fear will not only not disappear, but it will intensify. However, at this point, the fear will no longer be due to the unknown, but jealousy. Jealousy of the power of magic that they cannot learn or grasp!”
The familiar voice made Lupin stand up abruptly.
Turning around, he saw Vaughn, dusty and travel-worn, approaching. A person wrapped in bandages was floating beside him.
“Mr. President!”
Lupin greeted him and looked at the person floating beside Vaughn. The other person was also awake and gave him a blank stare.
“This is…”
“The commander of yesterday’s squad, Bruce Essex. Remus, take him to rest.”
Vaughn gave instructions, dismissing Lupin, and then walked towards Ajinbad.
Ajinbad greeted him enthusiastically and shook his hand: “President Weasley, you should have gained a lot this time. How about it, do you have any intelligence to share?”
Vaughn smiled wryly: “Sorry, not at the moment.”
Dumbledore had not yet replied, and he didn’t know if the other party hadn’t found an answer, or if Fawkes was too tired and needed rest.
Until he received Dumbledore’s letter, Vaughn decided to keep the information about “DeSantis” and the Arcane Brotherhood to himself for now.
Ajinbad was not very satisfied with his answer: “Hmm—but you were gone all night…”
“The chase game went a bit too far. Mr. Essex here forcibly Apparated multiple times, resulting in a splitting accident. I had to delay for some time to prevent him from bleeding to death.”
“…Alright!”
Ajinbad clicked his tongue and reluctantly accepted the reason.
At the same time, he looked at Vaughn with some surprise—forcing an adult wizard to split? How strong is your Apparition?
Vaughn ignored his gaze and said politely: “I haven’t slept all night, Mr. Ajinbad. If you have nothing else, we can talk later.”
“Wait!”
Ajinbad stopped him and handed him an official document.
“What is this?”
“It’s from the Ministry of Magic. This afternoon, they will come to register our wands and personal magical items.”
Vaughn asked curiously: “Us? Including the Federation delegation?”
Ajinbad’s dark old face showed a “kind” smile: “Yes, the Ministry of Magic has always strictly adhered to the rules. Every time the Federation comes to investigate, they receive enthusiastic hospitality. This time, your delegation is with us, so you’ll receive the same treatment. Aren’t you happy?”
“Then I truly thank you.”
The two exchanged a few pleasantries, and then Ajinbad’s expression became serious: “After those Ministry of Magic lackeys leave this afternoon, we need to meet and discuss our future itinerary… Mr. Weasley, regardless of any past conflicts we may have had, at this moment and in this place, facing a potentially very complex situation here, we outsiders are natural allies. Do you agree?”
Vaughn thought for a moment and nodded: “Okay, I’ll find you then.”
Upon hearing his answer, Ajinbad shook his hand firmly.
Watching Ajinbad’s retreating back, Vaughn shook his head. Combined with Ajinbad’s angry performance at the docks yesterday and his posture waiting in the hotel lobby early this morning, it seemed the information about the Purifiers was taken very seriously within the Federation.
This reminded him of the conversation between Ajinbad and Lupin when he had just returned.
In fact, the Federation was probably the magical institution most concerned about Muggles in the world. While other countries, for various reasons, enforced the Statute of Secrecy and remained stagnant, the Federation, which was based on the Statute of Secrecy, actively infiltrated Muggle society.
This wasn’t because their organizational structure was more progressive, but due to their perspective—
This trans-national organization had a more global vision than any Ministry of Magic when they viewed humanity as a whole.
Perhaps it wasn’t obvious to others, but the terrifying population of 5.5 billion in 1992 must have left a deep impression on any wizard!
And this number was still rising.
“Purifiers… DeSantis…”
Thinking about the concepts he had encountered in the past two days, the possibilities hidden behind them, and the tangled connections that were as complicated as a ball of yarn,
Vaughn pinched his brow, feeling a slight headache.
“President, what’s wrong?”
Lupin, who had returned, asked with concern.
Vaughn waved his hand: “It’s nothing. Take me to rest, Remus. I need a good sleep. Don’t let anyone disturb me.”
“Uh…”
“What is it?”
Lupin hesitated: “Kingsley Shacklebolt. You agreed to talk with him yesterday. He’s still waiting for your reply.”
Dolores Umbridge again!
Vaughn was slightly impatient: “This trivial matter, we’ll discuss it after I wake up!”
Seeing his bad mood, Lupin didn’t dare to say more. As he led Vaughn to rest, he silently mourned for Kingsley.
Poor guy, such bad luck…
The Shacklebolt family was even more of a turncoat than the Travers.
However, unlike the Travers, who spread their branches widely and cast a wide net, the Shacklebolts’ wavering was due to their own family circumstances—they had intermarried with foreign families from a very early age, and even with African families, which led to their skin color being out of place with other English families.
England was not France. The Lestrange family, also with dark skin, had thrived in France decades ago.
Even though the main French line had died out, the branch with fair skin had managed to survive in England.
The Shacklebolt family was not so lucky. The English pure-bloods’ pursuit of so-called blood purity was not limited to magic.
Even today’s Sacred Twenty-Eight, even “pure-blood traitors” like the Weasleys had intermarried with other families, but the Shacklebolts seemed to have been forgotten for years.
Even now, they had not truly integrated into the English pure-blood circles—without even familial ties, how could they integrate?
Thus, the current Shacklebolt family was in an awkward position.
They were themselves one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight and theoretically enjoyed privileges, but other families were unwilling to associate with them.
And this status as one of the Twenty-Eight also created a rift between them and half-blood families or Muggle-friendly factions.
This no-win situation had persisted for many years until Kingsley Shacklebolt took over the family’s power, at which point things began to improve.
Suitcase Space, the sun was warm.
Vaughn, who had just woken up not long ago, lay under the giant oak tree, reading information about the Shacklebolt family.
The reason he had been keeping Kingsley waiting was because he had taken an interest in him and the Shacklebolt family!
Especially Kingsley!
With memories from his past life, Vaughn had a deep impression of this seasoned Auror, who would inexplicably become Minister of Magic “in the future.”
If everything unfolded according to the timeline in his memories, in six years, with Fudge’s resignation, Amelia and Scrimgeour being killed, and Voldemort’s downfall.
Kingsley Shacklebolt would rise to the pinnacle of power in the English wizarding world after the war!
No one knew how he achieved it. He wasn’t a founding member of the Order of the Phoenix, yet in 1995, during the Order’s reorganization, he inexplicably gained Dumbledore’s favor.
He wasn’t Fudge’s confidant either, yet Fudge always trusted him. In the “future,” he was even tasked with hunting Harry and was never suspected of being perfunctory or passing false information.
Even the Muggle Prime Minister and the Dursley family liked him…
This was truly… a perfect candidate for a subordinate!
“High emotional intelligence, decent strength, political wisdom, and from the trajectory of the ‘future,’ he is very good at handling interpersonal relationships.”
Summarizing Kingsley’s strengths, Vaughn nodded repeatedly, quite satisfied.
If there was a single flaw… it was probably that he was too good at handling interpersonal relationships. Perhaps it was due to the survival environment of his family being caught between two worlds since childhood, forcing Kingsley to become adept at playing both sides, but also becoming too slick, lacking firm allegiance.
In fact, since first meeting Kingsley Shacklebolt at the beginning of the holiday, and the latter showing a friendly attitude, Vaughn had been hoping he would express a stronger desire to “take a side.”
However, he had disappointed Vaughn!
Kingsley’s goodwill seemed to be merely a subconscious investment in relationships. After meeting Vaughn, he had provided many conveniences and seemed to treat Vaughn very well, but there had been no further action.
Even when Vaughn turned Umbridge into a toad this time, he hadn’t realized why Vaughn had repeatedly refused to see him.
This indicated that subconsciously, he hadn’t decided which side to fully commit to.
Or rather, this “smart person” wanted to wait and see, observe the development of the situation, and then consider whose banner to rally under!
Such a smart person would not change his views unless he was made to realize the cruelty and urgency of reality.
“My patience is limited. I hope you realize it sooner.”
Casually putting away the information on the Shacklebolt family, Vaughn stopped thinking about Kingsley. He got up, went to the “experimental area,” and drew his wand.
“Relaxed!”
A short incantation was uttered, and in the distance, the chains on a giant beast suddenly unraveled with a clatter.
It was a Hungarian Horntail. Even in the entire wizarding world, Horntails were considered the most dangerous and ferocious Magical Creatures.
Besides being able to spew breath 50 feet, surpassing all Fire-drakes, the spikes all over their bodies were also their weapons.
Especially their long, flexible, and powerful tails, which, with the spikes at their tips, could pierce any living creature within 20 feet of the Horntail.
From an evolutionary perspective, the Horntail was a “perfect” predator!
Of course, this predator, now famous for its danger and ferocity, had been completely “tamed.” After the chains were released, the Fire-drake wagged its tail and trotted up to Vaughn like a puppy, then slumped to the side with a thud, exposing its belly, its ferocious mouth opening, and its tongue sticking out:
“Come play, master!”
Vaughn patted its soft belly, hesitating slightly.
“System!”
The ethereal panel unfolded before his eyes. Vaughn’s gaze scrolled to the bottom, and he checked the progress of the side quest:
【 Side Quest ③: Research all Fire-drakes’ magic and understand their basic principles （ In Progress ）】
【 Progress: 4/10】
【 Reward: 100 Magic Power Scale, Spell Development Module】
“Currently, I’ve finished researching the Common Welsh Green, the Chinese Fireball, the Ukrainian Ironbelly… Only you and the Norwegian Ridgeback remain…”
Vaughn’s hesitation wasn’t due to encountering research difficulties, but rather he found he couldn’t bear to kill this Horntail.
It was no use; cat lovers were always soft-hearted towards “small animals”…
After considering for a moment, he sighed and patted the Horntail’s belly: “Never mind, I’ll have them prepare another Horntail later… Keeping you here will also be good company for Nobeta. She’s almost been led astray by Guo Guo Cha and thinks she’s a cat.”
As if sensing the pity in Vaughn’s voice, the Horntail nuzzled affectionately against him.
Having found a reasonable excuse, Vaughn smiled and pushed away the tongue the creature was trying to lick him with. Then he pointed his wand at the last Norwegian Ridgeback.
He silently uttered the incantation, and the iron chains loosened.
“Roar—”
The Ridgeback, which had been confined for several days and seemed to be losing its sanity, roared and flapped its bony wings.
Its shriveled yet massive body took flight.
Its mad eyes stared intently at Vaughn, its mouth already agape.
Vaughn calmly patted the Horntail: “Go, subdue it!”
“Goo—”
The dragon, possessing considerable intelligence, understood Vaughn’s meaning. It turned its head, looked at its own kind, its pupils narrowed menacingly, and in the next moment, a jet of fire nearly 50 feet long erupted.
Simultaneously, a fierce wind swept through, and dust flew.
Amidst the spurting flames, the two behemoths collided with a crash.
Roars, screams, scales, and blood!
When Lupin descended the ladder from the oak tree with the Ministry of Magic registration personnel, he witnessed the scene of the two colossi engaged in a life-and-death struggle.
“Roar—”
A clear dragon’s roar echoed throughout the Suitcase Space.
If they were in the wild, battles between Fire-drakes wouldn’t be overly intense. Usually, it would be a matter of probing, intimidation, and threats—survival in the wild was fraught with unexpected events, and food wasn’t readily available. If they expended a lot of energy in a fight and got injured, how would they hunt?
But the current situation clearly defied the norm.
The gaunt and withered Norwegian Ridgeback, flapping its huge, bat-like membranous wings, and the Horntail, covered in spikes and looking like a killing machine, were savagely clashing.
They spewed searing breaths at each other. The jet-like flames slid across the scales and skin of the two Fire-drakes, and the terrifying heat caused their scales to curl and their skin to blacken.
The pain only further provoked the two behemoths.
The enormous wings stirred up gusts of wind, and the Ridgeback used its venomous teeth and claws to inflict deep, dark green wounds on the Horntail.
The price for this was that its mouth and claws were torn and bleeding by the dense spikes covering the Horntail’s body.
“The Ridgeback is no match for the Horntail.”
A humble voice sounded near Lupin’s ear.
It was an official from the Ministry of Magic who had descended behind him. A standard middle-aged blue-stater, impeccably dressed in a suit, with neatly combed hair and a meticulously trimmed beard. He wore glasses, looking like a polite scholar, and even his voice fit the stereotype.
