Ian took another sip, still grimacing as if drinking iced americano for the first time. Gilderoy Grindelwald didn't mind Ian's curious cat-like reaction.
His expression carried a trace of regret, and his tone contained a hint of remorse, "That tragedy changed everything, and it does signify that some prophecies indeed exact a price from the prophet."
"Our talent allows us to see glimpses of the future, but if we can't correctly interpret the fragments seen in the prophecy, the prophet will suffer a backlash from the prophecy."
"I am cautious enough now, but I still feel it's not enough... I hope you remember this too." Gilderoy Grindelwald looked deeply at Ian.
"I'll remind Aurora."
Ian blinked and continued to focus on drinking his tea.
"I'm not worried about that child; she always has some unique interpretations of the futures she sees, which is perhaps a talent that spares her from punishment." Gilderoy Grindelwald's expression was somewhat awkward, his tone carrying a sense of helplessness.
"Are prophesied events bound to happen?" Ian, not yet reaching the age to attend Divination classes, was somewhat curious about this most mysterious magic in his world.
"It depends on how many wizards believe in it... I generally don't reveal this little-known answer to others, as it represents a shared weakness among the prophets." Gilderoy Grindelwald placed his hand on Ian's head, tousling his still lush hair.
"Of course, for a lovely little wizard like you, I'm willing to answer all your questions." Gilderoy Grindelwald stood behind Ian.
One of his eyes momentarily turned white, and then the scene reflected in his eyes changed, though what he saw was no different from the scenes he had seen over the years.
"Oh, right, if a prophecy is disruptive enough, no matter how outstanding the prophet, they may not clearly see the future. I think this is somewhat related to the historical significance." Gilderoy Grindelwald's voice was very gentle, still patiently explaining to Ian.
His eyes returned to normal, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, not disappointed by the unchanged scenes. To him, just seeing the flag raised in those scenes was enough.
"What if I'm a prophet, and I make a prophecy I haven't actually seen, but because of my high reputation, everyone believes it?"
Ian watched as Gilderoy Grindelwald walked to his front, knowing he couldn't escape now, he naturally wanted to absorb as much knowledge as possible from this historically renowned prophet.
"That's a great question, almost no one would make such an assumption. Wizards indeed can guide the course of the future, as the future remains uncertain until it becomes the present."
"Different prophets may see different futures and can choose to direct the present towards the future they desire. But in a situation like your assumption, about a future that hasn't been prophesied, even those famed prophets may not give you an accurate answer." Gilderoy Grindelwald sat opposite Ian, making himself a cup of the tea Ian found both bitter and invigorating.
"Alright."
Ian regretfully continued to drink his tea.
"What flavor did you taste?"
Gilderoy Grindelwald suddenly asked with curiosity.
"Bitter, purely bitter."
Ian answered honestly.
"That's good, this proves you're living a happy life." Gilderoy Grindelwald's words were intriguing, making Ian look at the teacup in his hands with contemplation.
"To me, it's a sweet tea, though recently its taste has changed a bit." Gilderoy Grindelwald chuckled, taking another sip, and unexpectedly responded to Ian's previous question, "In fact, as far as I know, Merlin attempted something similar, and in his relics, he warned future generations not to be curious about it again..."
An unclear response on the surface.
Yet it clearly concealed some specific information.
"That's possible too?"
Ian exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief.
"Wizards are quite magical, Ian, though right now, I can't give you a precise answer." Gilderoy Grindelwald, wearing Lockhart's face, smiled brightly.
"Because some matters need time to verify."
His words carried a lot of information.
Making Ian's already widened eyes expand even further.
"What did you do?"
Ian couldn't help but ask.
"Just a little misdirection, as for the purpose..." In Grindelwald's eyes, a light flickered. Sitting opposite him, Ian couldn't see well enough, or else he might have noticed that each flicker represented a different future Grindelwald had seen.
The scenarios varied greatly, but almost every scene was steeped in the cold death within a historically grand, unchangeable brilliance — without exception in his hundreds of forecasts over the decades.
Greater benefits require a price. There was never a future Dumbledore hoped for in Grindelwald's prophecies; there were always smaller prices for grander prospects.