The staircase was long, winding around the central pillar all the way up to the top. As Kael walked on it, the surrounding silence was terrifying, only his footsteps and increasingly rapid heartbeat could be heard.
He didn't know how long he had walked when the light from the wand illuminated a door.
An ancient door, with no lock, just slightly ajar, with faint light visible through the gap.
Kael felt even more nervous.
"You have finally come, Albus..."
An old and raspy voice echoed from inside the door, sounding like it hadn't spoken for a long time.
"No, that's not right, you're not Albus!" the voice suddenly had a hint of curiosity, "Who are you? How did you find this place, and you've brought two little cuties.
"Why don't you come in? Or are you afraid of an old guy without a wand?"
Kael silently cursed under his breath.
Was he scared? Kind of, considering that the person inside was the culprit who threw the whole of Europe into chaos sixty years ago.
But more than fear, Kael found the situation troublesome; the person inside the door was a huge trouble.
But since he was already here... he couldn't just turn back now.
"Dumbledore really knows how to bring trouble," Kael murmured softly, reaching out to push the door open.
The room was much smaller than he had imagined, barely bigger than a broom closet, with a very small window—or rather, more like a large crack—on the ceiling. The light that he had seen earlier was moonlight filtering in, the only source of light in the room.
In the corner, there was a thin blanket, with a skeletal figure curled up on it... truly looking like a skeleton, seemingly just a layer of skin left.
Upon hearing the movement, the fragile body shifted slightly, the skeleton-like face turned to look at him, eyes opened.
"Ha, haha..."
Without saying anything, Grindelwald suddenly laughed for no apparent reason.
"You came... I knew we would meet again..."
"Meet again?"
Kael was slightly stunned, all previous emotions suppressed in that moment, leaving only confusion.
"Have we met before?"
"Not for you," Grindelwald struggled to get up, leaning against the corner of the wall, supporting himself to avoid falling.
He glanced at Kael again.
"Go, to Godric's Hollow, south, there's an abandoned barn... It's easy to find, next to a pine tree.
"Through the barn window, you can just see the attic of a house, that's where Albus lives; you'll find him there."
"Do you know why I came here?" Kael asked, perplexed, as he walked over.
He was sure the person in front of him hadn't used Legilimency on him since he entered.
"If I say I know, would you believe me?"
"Why not, after all, you are Grindelwald," Kael said, surveying his surroundings, then decided to sit directly on the ground.
He didn't dare to use his wand to conjure a chair for himself, not that the person in front of him was merely a skeleton, but as the saying went, he was still Grindelwald.
"Ha, how amusing, that foolish guy, he thinks he can change anything?" Grindelwald muttered to himself.
"How did you guess?" Kael asked again, "that I would come here and what I wanted to ask?"
"If you could give me a piece of parchment..."
"Forget it, I won't ask," Kael stood up decisively, ready to leave.
He must have been out of his mind earlier; since he already got the information he wanted, why bother with extra efforts?
No matter how Grindelwald knew his purpose, he could not leave this place, nor would he have any impact on him.
That being the case, even if Kael didn't know this secret, it really didn't matter.
"Wait." Grindelwald moved slightly.
Kael quickly stepped back two steps.
"Don't be nervous, buddy, do you think I can do anything now?" Grindelwald said self-mockingly.
"That's not necessarily." Kael replied calmly, "Perhaps this is just a facade you are putting on purpose, to make me lower my guard."
"If you had come twenty years earlier, maybe that's what I would do," Grindelwald said, "As a reward for saving you time, give me a piece of parchment."
He pointed to the bare thin blanket beneath him, and a scrap of cloth not larger than a hand, "I really can't use the bedsheet to write letters anymore."
…