Dumbledore nodded. "The food from the East is truly wonderful! I must thank Erwin—without him, I never would have experienced such delicious dishes. Do you remember the first time we ate Eastern cuisine?"
Grindelwald smiled faintly. "Of course. To be honest, I've always held a prejudice against Eastern food because of that one time—it was incredibly spicy!"
Dumbledore chuckled. "I realized later that we'd eaten Sichuan cuisine, which is known for its heat. But Eastern cuisine is incredibly diverse—every region has a distinct flavor profile."
Grindelwald's eyes brightened. "What a magnificent culture. Your description alone makes me want to try it again. Please, have a seat. I need to inform the kitchen that I've changed tonight's menu."
He pulled a mobile phone from his pocket—the back featured a purple lotus emblem, marking it as a device from the Cavendish family.
Grindelwald's hand trembled slightly as he pressed the buttons, misdialed twice, and let out an exasperated sigh. "Damn it, I really am getting old. My hands shake now."
Dumbledore didn't comment. He knew the truth—beneath his own calm exterior, his hands trembled just the same.
Grindelwald finally managed to make the call, updating the menu. Every dish would be sweet and savory—flavors Grindelwald personally disliked, but ones Dumbledore enjoyed. They were all selections Grindelwald had specifically asked Erwin about.
After hanging up, Grindelwald said, "You must be laughing at me. Old age brings all sorts of peculiar ailments. My memory is slipping lately—so much is slipping away."
"Me too," Dumbledore admitted. "That's why I prepared a Pensieve. I can bring one over if you'd like."
Grindelwald's expression softened. "A Pensieve? That is a thoughtful tool. I suppose I truly need one now."
Dumbledore nodded, and the conversation lulled into silence.
Both men had imagined their reunion countless times—some pleasant, some bitter. But neither had envisioned sitting together so calmly, unprepared for such an ordinary moment. The silence grew somewhat awkward.
Grindelwald broke it. "Oh, right. I prepared a gift for you, but I haven't given it to you yet. Since you're here, take them all at once!"
Dumbledore smiled. "Coincidentally, I also brought a gift for you."
Grindelwald's eyes lit up. "Really? How wonderful!"
He moved to a nearby cabinet and retrieved a bag with an anti-tampering charm. Dumbledore produced a similar bag. Like two old friends, they exchanged gifts.
Then, they both froze.
The bags contained identical items: wool socks.
Dumbledore and Grindelwald looked up at each other, then burst into laughter.
"I haven't received wool socks in years," Dumbledore said, his voice thick with emotion. "I've hinted to so many people that I wanted them, but no one understood."
Grindelwald nodded. "It's the same with Vinda. Before the holidays, I told her my feet felt cold. But she didn't understand—she just added two fireplaces to my room instead."
Dumbledore chuckled. "They're incredibly thoughtful at times, yet frustratingly oblivious at others."
Grindelwald agreed, and another silence settled between them.
Finally, Dumbledore spoke, his tone heavy. "Gellert, I'm confused. I don't understand what Erwin is trying to accomplish. So many of my plans... I realized he dismantled them without me even noticing. Just before coming here, he forced me into a duel."
Grindelwald listened without interrupting.
"Who won?" he asked quietly.
Dumbledore shook his head. "There was no clear victor. His power exceeded my expectations. I was confident I could defeat him, but he held something in reserve. He's become formidable, Gellert. Everything is slipping beyond my control."
Grindelwald studied his old friend, sensing the profound weariness in Dumbledore's eyes. He sighed. "I warned you, Albus. You oversimplified things. Erwin is not a pawn to be controlled. Have you considered that he might already know more than we do? Remember what I said when we first learned of the prophecy?"
Dumbledore was silent for a long moment. "You said... if he truly is the one destined to end this, he wouldn't be easily manipulated. That trying to control him would only invite a violent backlash."
Grindelwald nodded. "Exactly. I've observed him, Albus. On the surface, he seems like a calm lake, but beneath lies a raging current. You need to learn to let go. You and I both know we're merely participants in this game, not its architects. We don't have the power to dictate the outcome. Why do you keep trying to control things beyond your reach?"
Dumbledore remained silent.
Grindelwald stepped closer, his voice softer now. "Albus, it's time to change your perspective. This world does not revolve around you. You are powerful, yes, but there are others just as strong—perhaps even stronger. This situation is beyond our control. All we can do is observe and wait. We've done everything we can—the rest is beyond our reach."
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, the tension leaving his shoulders. "You're right. I was too stubborn. Gellert... I'm so tired."
Grindelwald moved behind Dumbledore and gently embraced him. Dumbledore relaxed into the embrace, allowing himself a rare moment of peace and quiet.