"What is that?"
"Good heavens—is that Grindelwald's emblem?"
"So the rumors are true. That terrifying Dark Lord… he's returned!"
With a few hoarse shouts, the entire Durmstrang castle was thrown into near chaos…
The vast majority of teachers and students had never lived through the era of Gellert Grindelwald's rule. Yet even through stories passed down from parents and grandparents, none of them could forget that symbol—or fail to feel the fear once inspired by the Dark Lord.
Plenty of mischievous students used to copy that mark onto their textbooks or clothes, just to look impressive…
But at this very moment, they were the ones screaming the loudest.
"Headmaster… Headmaster Vance…" A middle-aged professor in his thirties or forties came running over, panting. "The Dark Lord's mark…"
"Calm down!" Professor Winston Vance suppressed the turmoil in his heart and forced himself to sound steady. "All instructors, escort the students back to their dormitories. I hereby declare the Halloween banquet concluded early!"
"But… but… that mark…" the professor stammered.
"Emerson, come with me. Let's see what's really going on," Vance said after taking a deep breath.
"Understood…" The white-haired elderly professor beside him rose to his feet, trembling slightly.
...
The night sky was pitch-black, as though the heavens had been smeared with endless ink, not a single trace of starlight remaining.
On the frozen shore of Lake Vener, an old wizard sat directly on the ice. He looked ancient, emaciated, and utterly frail. A long wand made of elder wood rested loosely in his hand, and before him stood a strange bird, its entire body a deep shade of purple.
Among the snow and ice, beyond the bushes, figures began to appear one after another… Wizards clad in black cloaks, their attire neat and orderly to the last detail.
They approached slowly, cautiously, as if afraid to believe what they were seeing.
"Master…"
A witch who appeared remarkably young stepped out from the front of the crowd. She dropped to her knees, trembling as she reached out, choking back sobs. "More than fifty years have passed… At last… I truly thought I would never see you again in this lifetime!"
From the looks of it, she had to be Veda-Rosier—Gellert Grindelwald's most loyal follower. Still, dressing like a woman in her twenties or thirties when she was clearly in her eighties or nineties… "Grindelwald" thought silently, recalling what he had learned over the past two days.
Even so, he kept his head lowered, his expression perfectly calm.
He extended a withered hand and gently patted Rosier's palm, without turning to face her. "It has indeed been a long time. Get up, Veda… Though for me, the past fifty years seem rather brief."
The other wizards gathered around as well, kneeling before "Gellert Grindelwald" and trying to kiss the hem of his robes. Every one of them was well past middle age, yet their faces glowed with an almost childlike reverencet.
"That's enough. All of you, stand," Grindelwald said calmly.
He swept his gaze across the faces beneath their cloaks, lingering on each for a second or two.
"It seems these past fifty years haven't treated you very well," Grindelwald said with a faintly self-mocking smile, then lowered his head again.
"Master…"
One after another, his followers bowed their heads in shame. A few opened their mouths, as if wanting to explain something.
But Grindelwald spoke first.
"I have reconciled with him."
...
The icy plain fell utterly silent.
The old wizards stood as though their throats had been seized, unable—or unwilling—to utter a single word.
"Master… you mean…" Veda-Rosier said, her voice trembling. "The great… Dumbledore?"
"Yes," Grindelwald replied with a slight smile. "More than fifty years have passed. Whatever the outcome back then, the grudges of the past should finally be put to rest."
"So… Master… that is why you left that prison?" the old wizard named Frederick asked shakily.
A Jarvey was curled up in his arms. The poor creature trembled as it stared at the purple-feathered bird in Grindelwald's hand, not daring to lift its head too high.
"Yes," Grindelwald nodded. "What's past should remain in the past. If you no longer wish to live abroad, you may return. There's no need to go on living in constant fear."
"Then… what about you, Master?" Rosier asked softly.
"I will choose to leave, and Dumbledore will choose to leave as well," Grindelwald said evenly. "Let our departure serve as the final punctuation mark on everything that came before."
Rosier began to sob quietly.
The other wizards lowered their heads in silence.
No one objected. Their faces showed only reluctance and pain.
"Master…" Winston Vance glanced around before speaking in a low voice. "Over a year ago, a boy once came to Durmstrang. At the time, he was wearing your ring…"
"Yes. I gave it to him," Grindelwald said with a nod.
"Then that means… could it be… does it mean…" Vance grew visibly agitated.
"It doesn't mean anything, Vance," Grindelwald said with a light chuckle. "He was simply a very good young man. Nothing more."
"I see… I see…" Vance said solemnly. "I understand, Master. I understand."
Gellert Grindelwald glanced down at his watch.
"It's almost time. Our brief gathering should come to an end," he said quietly.
With a gentle wave of his wand, black flames surged up around Gellert Grindelwald.
"Master… Master…" the surrounding old wizards cried out.
When the flames vanished, both Grindelwald and the purple bird were gone without a trace.
...
Back in the Forbidden Forest of Hogwarts, the previously solemn "Gellert Grindelwald" let out a tired breath.
The disguise seemed to have held up well—at least nothing gave him away, he thought.
The large purple bird shook itself vigorously, flinging purple rat juice from its feathers, then shot Jon an irritated glare.
Tumors taken from Irish purple rats, when combined with mandrake extract, produced a purple liquid capable of masking the aura of magical creatures. In the pitch-dark night, dyeing a phoenix purple made it far less likely to reveal its true identity.
At the very least, it avoided causing unnecessary complications for those "followers."
"Easy, easy…" "Grindelwald" said hurriedly with a placating smile. "I'll make sure you get plenty of herbs this time."
...
Meanwhile, on the other side of Hogwarts, in the Hospital Wing.
The Halloween feast still hadn't ended, and her sister had yet to return. Astoria Greengrass lay alone in her hospital bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering what Jon might be doing right now.
"Knock… knock… knock…"
Suddenly, there was a knock at the ward door.
Had her sister come back early? Astoria felt a flicker of surprise.
"Come in," she said softly.
The door opened gently, and a brown-haired girl in a black school uniform stepped inside.
"Hello, Miss Greengrass," she said politely. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Hermione Granger."