Howl opened the door, and Lucifer immediately asked curiously, "What's inside?"
"Nothing, just a lonely old man." Howl sat on the sofa, letting out a long sigh, a smile appearing on his face.
There are many hidden things that are not recorded in books.
This is why he was interested in Grindelwald. A Wizard who was once the world's foremost naturally had value in conversation.
"Arrogant Riddle…" Howl recalled Grindelwald's words, and it was false to say that he wasn't surprised.
Previously, having only glimpsed that dark era from books, he had only thought of Lord Voldemort as a terrorist from rural England.
He never expected this fellow to actually come to Nurmengard and proudly declare to Grindelwald that he would start from where he fell!
From the very beginning, Lord Voldemort had set his sights on Dumbledore.
And Grindelwald also affirmed his power…
"Interesting…"
"What's interesting? What did you do again? And you're not telling me?" Lucifer immediately widened his eyes and asked three questions in annoyance.
"Speak up! If you don't, I feel like ants are crawling all over me!!"
Howl stood up and stretched.
"Time to sleep!"
… …
… …
Early the next morning, Howl woke up early.
He didn't plan to go to Hogwarts, although Madam Pince was indeed very much looking forward to him fixing those precious books quickly, but…
There were more interesting things to do!
First, he changed his clothes, tidied up the increasingly thick scarf around his neck, and then walked out of the Castle with a stack of parchment.
Just as he stepped into the ruins of Nurmengard, he saw a ragged House-elf with large ears and thin limbs walking out of the Castle.
Its huge, lightbulb-like eyes seemed to be covered with a white film, murky and unclear. Its steps were stiff, and it walked straight past Howl towards the outside.
A House-elf that had been put under Imperius.
Howl was a little taken aback; it seemed that those in charge of the prison had reached an extreme level of fear towards Grindelwald.
He also wondered if they dared to intercept and inspect Grindelwald's letters when he sent them out.
Following yesterday's path, a few minutes later, he quickly arrived outside Grindelwald's cell.
He was sitting on the ground, a meal tray with exquisite food on the small table.
Seeing someone approach, he paid no mind, casually grabbing the food with his hand and stuffing it into his mouth.
Howl slightly raised his hand, and the stack of parchment slowly flew towards the iron bed. He just leaned against the wall outside the door, drinking the prepared Energy Potion.
He was not in a hurry…
After quite a while, once Grindelwald finished eating, he saw him wave his hand, and all the dishes disappeared.
"Riddle seems much more extreme than you," Howl said.
Grindelwald stood up and picked up a piece of parchment: "He is a bit more extreme, but not as exaggerated as the rumors say.
He did support pure-blood ideology, but he didn't completely exclude half-blood Wizards and Muggle-born Wizards. In fact, from the perspective of someone like him, whether pure-blood, half-blood, Muggle-born Wizard, or even Muggle, everyone was beneath him; no one was qualified to be his equal.
He promoted pure-blood ideology simply because, in the environment at the time, pure-blood Wizards were the easiest group for him to win over. After that, as everyone knows, not long after establishing his organization, his tyrannical and arrogant nature was fully exposed."
"I see." Howl nodded, then asked, "What are your thoughts on pure-blood ideology?"
"The only families that can truly ascend to bloodline status today are the Dumbledore family; they have some connection with the Phoenix, but that's all." Grindelwald said, then he seemed to pause for a good while,
"The others… are merely old families that have continued to this day. As for Riddle, he is actually also a half-blood; the Slytherin bloodline merely re-flourished in him.
This does not provide the conditions for discussing bloodline theory; he is simply a genius. This world does have geniuses!"
As he spoke, Grindelwald shifted his gaze from the parchment to the window, where an owl was flying from the horizon, clutching a letter in its talons.
Then, in a blink of an eye, the owl vanished, and there was nothing but clouds in the sky…
His voice grew softer, and his gaze moved away from the window:
"Think about it, would an arrogant genius, if not driven by self-interest, be willing to attribute his achievements to his birth, to his bloodline?" He said indifferently:
"To him, the Slytherin bloodline was merely a crown, a symbol of his legitimacy, the crystallization of his power, and an object of worship for his followers.
And what put him on the throne, what made his followers kneel.
It was still the sword in his hand!"
Howl was a little surprised: "You highly recommend him?!"
"Aside from him being a coward, I think he can be considered a success.
On the other hand…"
He suddenly sounded a bit gritting his teeth, his voice trembling:
"As long as… as long as he opposes Albus, that bastard, then he is a guy worth praising, a true warrior!!"
Grindelwald's voice gradually rose, scoffing and cursing:
"Haha, it's his own doing! He was the one who nurtured Riddle. He had long seen that Riddle had an anti-human personality, considering himself above all else. He had seen it long ago!
But he insisted on maintaining that hypocritical facade! Believing he could change that child, oh~ yes, with love~ Where is it? His love, where is it?!"
As he spoke, his emotions became increasingly uncontrollable. The entire Castle was filled with howling wind, and shattered stones hit him like tiny bullets, stinging his face. He projected a barrier, quietly watching Grindelwald.
"I warned him. I told him to remove that hateful, disgusting mask of hypocrisy and directly strangle Riddle in his cradle.
But he couldn't do it. He was unwilling to tear off that hypocritical mask; that mask had already taken root on his face! He kept hesitating, procrastinating, until Riddle's shadow enveloped all of Britain, and in the end, he was defeated by an infant!!"
As he spoke, he suddenly roared, hoarse with rage:
"Then who the hell tells me—why?! Why did he stand before the whole world, stand against me, back then?!"
Howl had already retreated several steps, pressing against the wall. The wind howled, just like Grindelwald's roar at that moment.
This centenarian, confined in this desolate place for over forty years, went from a seemingly long-unused, husky voice yesterday to a furious roar today.
No one knew how many emotions he had suppressed, how much joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness he wanted to release.
And Howl seemed to have figured out who this guy was writing to with the parchment.
After all, when Lord Voldemort began to rise in the Wizarding World, he had already been imprisoned here long ago.
Moreover…
Is it what he thinks?
Well, never mind, it's better not to speculate…
He awkwardly adjusted his hat, then took out his pocket watch, its brass cover springing open.
"Uh, sorry, I have something to do later, so I might have to leave first."
After saying that, he didn't care what the guy thought, turned his head, and slipped away.
After Howl left, the strong wind howled for an unknown duration before the old man, who had been prostrate on the ground, slowly rose.
He was extremely tired. He sat on the ground, leaning against the iron frame of the bed, his hand reaching for the mattress, picking up a piece of parchment, and then crawling to the small table to pick up a quill.
—Albus
He frowned, then ran his hand over the parchment, smudging the ink.
—Dumbledore
But he still felt uneasy. He hadn't received a reply in too long, so he should… yes, he should be more respectful, more intimate.
—Dear Albus