Wizards are never limited by physical strength.
"You don't need a Dementor to teach those little wizards. I brought you here in hopes that you would protect the students in my absence, not send them to the school infirmary." Dumbledore looked directly into Grindelwald's eyes, his tone carrying a hint of dissatisfaction.
"The best protection is teaching them how to survive." Grindelwald seemed to still clash ideologically with Dumbledore, though it wasn't an irreconcilable conflict.
Dumbledore merely frowned.
He did not continue to argue.
"Bobby has some complaints about you. She was extremely busy this afternoon, but she chose not to report you to the Ministry of Magic." The Bobby Dumbledore referred to was Madam Pomfrey from the school infirmary.
"I'll personally go to thank our school nurse. Who would refuse a well-known author who's sincerely apologetic, though incorrigible, and comes bearing gifts?"
Grindelwald's face briefly turned into Gilderoy Lockhart's but reverted to normal after just a few seconds. "I discovered he's quite popular in the school. People's various flattery made me feel youthful vitality once more. It's just a shame that when boasting about myself, I can only boast about Lockhart's stories."
After several back-and-forth transformations, Grindelwald mimicked his public persona. The Human Body Transformation Technique in Grindelwald's hands seemed as innate as a Fantastic Beast's talent.
"First-years… it's still a bit too early." Faced with his old friend's vivid impersonation, Dumbledore was more concerned about Hogwarts' education issues.
He sighed heavily.
"But perhaps you're right."
Though Dumbledore knew in his heart that Grindelwald's teaching methods and content were influenced significantly by those two first-year students, he couldn't guarantee that Grindelwald's educational philosophies were entirely wrong. After all, he had been pushed to the brink of anxiety several times in recent days.
The storms may be coming.
So, self-preservation skills are indeed things that little wizards should learn… Dumbledore fiddled with the little object in his hand, his eyes reflecting complicated emotions that slowly subsided before he chose to adapt to the current situation, a compromise with his old friend that didn't cross the line.
"You know what kind of situation I don't want to see."
Of course.
The necessary reminder was still needed.
"I will be very measured." Grindelwald, too, somewhat compromised, understanding that little wizards would just be sullen, which was far from forcing them to reach their potential in his view.
"Do you have any leads on the letter that sent Ronnie Ehrlich to his death?" Dumbledore didn't dwell on the teaching methods, but his expression grew more serious and cautious.
Upon hearing this, Grindelwald also grew solemn. He took two letters out of the desk drawer—both identical in appearance, with only slight content differences.
"I hadn't even sent my letter out when Ronnie received a forged one. That person is incredible; he even predicted what I would write and made changes that wouldn't arouse suspicion... Even I, looking at his letter, can't discern any anomalies."
Grindelwald opened both letters and laid them out on the table. Just as he said, the content of both letters showed no detailed differences.
Only in the instructions given to Ronnie Ehrlich, the forger used the excuse of a greater good to alter what Grindelwald originally planned to advise Ronnie Ehrlich to do. It was precisely because Ronnie Ehrlich did not notice anything amiss that he chose to die as instructed by the students' hands.
"He asked Ronnie Ehrlich to drink, which was a blatant oversight. If he asked Ronnie Ehrlich to drink poison, Ronnie Ehrlich might not have doubted your order either."
Dumbledore stared at the two letters that still made his skin crawl, finding it hard to imagine what kind of prophet could achieve such eerily accurate operations.
"Haha, don't take me for one of the professors you've hired; you surely can't not see it." Grindelwald's eyes remained fixed on the two letters spread out on the desk.
"It's like this forged letter was never taken away and was left in the office drawer when I arrived. This is an absolute confidence in mocking and a disdain towards me." Grindelwald's voice was full of excitement, "I will find this guy; he has issued an intriguing challenge to me."
His face showed a myriad of emotions.
Except fear and cowardice.
"Is this mysterious guy in the school?"
Dumbledore asked the question which most concerned him.
"I fear he has never been here. If he could infiltrate, why would he deceive the little wizards to go to Hogwarts Village? Surely, he's not going to use a vanishing trick on us."
Grindelwald made a reasonably logical deduction.
It was similar to Dumbledore's judgment.
The old bee nodded.
He tossed the little object he'd been fiddling with onto the office desk, "Back to our other trouble, how many of these things are still out there?"
The sound of the collision was crisp.
It was a small and exquisite pendant box.
Its main part was possibly made of some precious metal, with a surface finely carved and polished, the gemstone embedded in it emitting a faint glow. Though slightly dim, its appearance was undoubtedly costly, and it bore some ancient symbols intricately engraved on it.