After listening to Grindelwald's account, Kyle pointed at himself in disbelief. "So my actual birthday is in 1945?"
Grindelwald shook his head. "More precisely, 1946."
By that calculation, he'd be forty-five this year.
From what he knew, Professor Snape couldn't be older than forty, and Professor McGonagall was at most a decade or so his senior.
When school started and he returned to Hogwarts, if he called Snape "little brother" and McGonagall "big sister," would he get hexed?
Ahem. Calling Professor McGonagall "big sister" might be fine, but calling Snape "little brother"…
He didn't think his neck was as tough as a werewolf's.
And even a werewolf's neck couldn't withstand Snape's Sectumsempra.
The pile of headless corpses that had fallen in the Forbidden Forest that day still haunted him vividly.
Kyle scratched his cheek, suppressing a certain restless impulse.
"Old… Dad…" As expected, calling a stranger over a hundred years old "Dad" was still hard to say out loud—far more difficult than jokingly calling Dumbledore "Mom."
"What is it?" Grindelwald looked at his son with a face full of smiles.
"Can I learn magic from you?" Kyle spread his hands. "Professor Dumbledore won't even teach me Sectumsempra. He says it's dark magic and only wants to teach me the spells they cover at school."
Grindelwald didn't know exactly what kind of dark magic Sectumsempra was, but for a master of dark arts like him, analyzing its effects from the incantation's structure was child's play.
The spell for Sectumsempra was—Sectumsempra. It could be broken down into sectum and sempra.
The first half, sectum, was the participle form of the Latin seco, meaning to cut or slash.
The latter half, semper, meant "always" in Latin.
Put together, it wasn't hard to guess the curse's effect: it left wounds on the victim that were difficult to heal.
To Grindelwald, this pediatric-level dark magic was the kind of introductory lesson taught to first- and second-years at Durmstrang.
Grindelwald gave a cold snort. "Albus really is regressing with age. Since when does even this low-level magic get classified as dangerous dark arts?"
He turned to Kyle. "I can teach you this spell."
He didn't know Sectumsempra itself, but he could create a similar spell based on its effects right now.
"I've already mastered it," Kyle said with a proud grin. "He thought he could stop me."
Hearing that Dumbledore had been outmaneuvered, a delighted smile spread across Grindelwald's face. "How did you manage that?"
Kyle gave Grindelwald a rough rundown of how he'd forged orders and caught Dumbledore off guard, making Grindelwald's smile grow even wider.
Add to that the way Kyle had mentioned at dinner—climbing over walls to bypass Dumbledore's seals on Hogwarts' secret passages.
An eleven-year-old kid already had this many tricks up his sleeve. This child was no ordinary one.
A gleam flickered in Grindelwald's eyes. If he personally guided Kyle…
No one understood how to deal with Dumbledore better than he did.
Grindelwald suddenly couldn't wait to see what Hogwarts would look like in two months when he sent this anti-Dumbledore weapon back.
Letting Kyle mess with Dumbledore was just a small bit of revenge.
The more pressing matter now was Kyle's education.
Grindelwald affectionately ruffled Kyle's brilliant golden short hair. "What kind of magic do you want to learn?"
"Combat spells!" Kyle blurted without hesitation.
Hearing this answer, Grindelwald wasn't the least bit surprised. He'd have found it strange if Kyle had said anything else.
"Of course. But before that, we'll start with the basics."
"Magic isn't something you can just release by shouting an incantation and waving your wand around carelessly. For a beginner, even a slight mistake in casting gesture can cause the spell to fail."
Kyle scratched his cheek. Was that how it worked?
Wasn't magic supposed to be like ninjutsu—just do whatever you want?
Kyle hesitated for two seconds, then pulled his wand from his sleeve, eyes scanning the room for a suitable target.
Soon, his gaze locked onto a vase sitting in the distance. With an extremely casual flick of his wand—and without even uttering the incantation—he cast.
Crash!
Grindelwald: ???
Seeing the vase split cleanly in two, Grindelwald's expression froze.
What had he just said?
Oh, right—he hadn't said anything at all.
One essential skill for a Dark Lord was nerves of steel and skin thick enough to remain unflappable even if Mount Tai collapsed in front of him.
From Kyle's utterly casual casting posture—and the fact that it was a silent spell—Kyle, who hadn't even formally started school yet, was closer to the essence of magic than most mediocre wizards.
If that was the case, then his education plan for Kyle would need adjustment.
The magic modern wizards studied was all streamlined for ease of use.
As long as a wizard strictly followed the corresponding gestures and precisely pronounced the incantation, they could cast the spell.
There was no need to understand the spell's principles—just get the gestures and pronunciation right.
This modern magic, convenient as it was, could be called the most successful—yet most disastrous—invention of recent centuries.
It allowed even mediocre wizards to master many spells, but it also shackled those with exceptional talent.
It stifled the development of modern magic.
If a wizard only learned through rigid gestures and pronunciation, they'd never become a true master of magic—at best, a walking spellbook.
Somewhere, a certain copy ninja and Konoha's top technician: I feel personally attacked.
Grindelwald didn't want Kyle to become that kind of wizard.
With that in mind, Grindelwald raised an eyebrow with a relaxed expression. "We can start your magic lessons tomorrow."
After Kyle left Grindelwald's study, the old butler Alfred knocked on the door.
From the obvious upward curl of Grindelwald's lips, Alfred could tell his master was in an excellent mood. The loyal old butler couldn't help but feel happy too.
"It seems you and the young master had a good talk," Alfred said as he cleared the empty teacups from the desk.
"Very good. But I'm still not a qualified father."
"That takes time," the old butler said with a smile. "And young Master Kyle's life before this wasn't as bad as we imagined. On the contrary, he's done quite well."
Grindelwald waved a hand. "That doesn't erase the mistakes Albus and I made."
The old butler paused on his way out. "You've already done your best. You didn't know at the time, did you?"
"Maybe next time I see Albus, I should give him a beating?" Grindelwald murmured. "Two Grindelwalds should be more than enough to take on one Dumbledore, right?"
Hearing this, a smile broke across Alfred's aged face as he quietly closed the study door.
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