Intimidation!

Grindelwald emerged from the flames, wearing a gray-black trench coat, the oddly shaped lapel pin that used to be pinned to his waistcoat nowhere to be seen.

Grindelwald wore a warm smile, and even his voice was gentle and kind. However, everyone could see that beneath his clean and tidy face, there was a large, gruesome patch of blood on his chest.

"Ha— Aiken, your growth is moving, your courage is amazing," he stepped forward and gave Old Man Aiken a warm hug, the bloodstains on his chest staining the old man's expensive robe.

This unexpected appearance left Old Man Aiken somewhat bewildered, and the fear of Grindelwald that had been suppressed by power and money was slowly taking root again.

It seems that only now did Grindelwald realize that he was covered in a large amount of blood.

Clearly, the bloodstain wasn't his own. With a wave of his strange branch wand, Grindelwald wiped the bloodstain from his chest, but he didn't clean Old Man Aiken's chest as well. He simply smiled, crossed his arms, and said in an encouraging tone, "Aiken, I'm here for you. I'll stand up for you. Come on, say what you want to say next."

Old Man Aiken's earlier overbearing demeanor involuntarily subsided. His Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he tried his best to maintain a calm expression. "Dear Mr. Grindelwald, my son has gone missing in Newmontgard, so I believe it is necessary to take some measures—to ensure the safety of my son, who is also a student of your esteemed institution, and this will also help your institution recover him..."

Grindelwald waved his hand, almost rudely interrupting the other man. "Aiken, I'm telling you to continue what you were saying and what you were doing."

Old Man Aiken glanced at Sean beside him with a slightly bewildered look, then suddenly realized that the warm smiles on the faces of the two men were so similar.

What exactly is the relationship between these two...? Old Man Aiken gritted his teeth. Although he was concerned about his only son's safety, his belief that Sean was the murderer was just his intuition, and he had no direct evidence.

"I..." His lips moved slightly, his voice several times softer than before, "I will investigate further before drawing any conclusions, and I hope Mr. Grindelwald can provide some assistance then..."

"Irrelevant answer... Aiken, I just praised your courage," Grindelwald leaned forward slightly, "Don't want to talk about it? Let me help you recall?"

"Just now..."

There was no spell, only a frenzied surge of magical power; everyone in the office felt their breath catch in their throats for a moment.

Grindelwald's trench coat fluttered even without wind, and he revealed a wild and unrestrained smile.

"You're going to use Veritaserum on my student?"

He took a step forward, and Old Man Aiken and his men, as if by prior arrangement, all took a step back.

"You intend to use vigilante justice against my student without any evidence?"

His tone was steady, as if he were reciting a hymn, but Old Man Aiken finally recalled the scene buried deep in his memory.

The old wizard before me, this no-longer-young man, once had the power to destroy an entire city with a mere wave of his hand!

Old Man Aiken swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay upright, but he had already shrunk by half a head. "Mr. Grindelwald, my son is also your student, but he has disappeared at school..."

"He will come back...but one thing at a time," Grindelwald reached out and lightly patted Old Man Aiken's fat face a few times, "What price will you pay today?"

"Mr. Grindelwald ..." Old Man Aiken finally panicked. Although the other man was smiling, he could clearly see the expression on his face.

Grindelwald remains the same unconventional, eccentric Dark Lord who always acts solely on his whims...

Old Man Aiken was practically begging for mercy. "Sir, you... you are now the headmaster of Newmontgard..."

"Ha..." Grindelwald sighed.

Sean, standing to the side, shook his head. He knew all too well what Grindelwald hated most and loved most when people said the same thing.

You are now the principal of Newmontgard.

If this remark came from Sean, Dumbledore, or another naive student, he would accept it with great pleasure and remind the other person to continue praising him.

If those words came from someone who wanted to use his identity to restrict him, Grindelwald's mood would immediately turn from sunny to cloudy.

"You guys are really disgusting..." he muttered to himself, but the cold sweat on Old Man Aiken's forehead only increased.

"Sir, like Mr. Dumbledore, you are also the headmaster of a school and one of the greatest wizards of this century. I even met Mr. Dumbledore before; he was just like you..."

Before Old Man Aiken could finish speaking, Grindelwald reached out and pinched the other's lips with two fingers.

Sean nearly slapped his forehead; this Old Man Aiken, his technique for running into the line of fire was truly first-rate...

"Let me correct two of your mistakes," Grindelwald said. "First, I am not one of the greatest wizards of our time. There is only one greatest wizard, and that is Albus Dumbledore."

"Secondly," he leaned closer to Old Man Aiken and whispered in his ear, "I'm not like Dumbledore ... I hate it when people compare me to him..."

Sean heard Grindelwald's whisper, and he even wanted to add, "What's worse is comparing me to Dumbledore..."

After speaking, Grindelwald loosened his fingers, and his face lit up with a smile again.

"Alright, let's talk about what just happened?"

Old Man Aiken's lips were pinched until they were red, but he didn't even have the courage to wipe them with his sleeve. Just now, every time Grindelwald got a little closer to him, he felt death was one step closer to him.

"He's changed, but he hasn't changed at all..." He remembered what the chairman had once said.

Old Man Aiken's lips twitched slightly. "I am willing to apologize to this Mr. Wallop Wallerup offer compensation..."

"No need—" Grindelwald waved his hand generously.

Old Man Aiken took a deep breath and quickly lowered his head, feeling a sense of relief at having escaped a desperate situation.

However, what the other person said next made him feel as if he had fallen into an ice cave.

"Aiken, which hand do you usually use to wield your wand?"

"Mr. Grindelwald ..." Old Man Aiken looked at him in horror.

"Hmm? Should I ask you again?"

"I... I..." Old Man Aiken wanted to beg the other party to spare him, but when he met the other party's eyes, he dared not say any more.

"If you won't tell me, then I'll just pick one randomly..." Grindelwald smiled and raised his wand, like a conductor raising his baton.

"Right hand! Right hand!" Old Man Aiken screamed.

Grindelwald nodded in satisfaction, then grasped the other man's right hand, the twisted, sharp tip of the branch wand slowly gliding across the back of his trembling hand.

He chanted some kind of magic spell, and after a white light, Old Man Aiken's right hand, which had been sagging due to obesity and aging, suddenly became firm.

"For a wizard, a wand means a second life, and the hand that uses the wand naturally needs to be well protected. A little spell can make your right hand younger and more vibrant." Grindelwald raised Old Man Aiken's right hand for the others to see, almost as if he were showing off a masterpiece.

But no one noticed, because Old Man Aiken's left hand had completely disappeared at some point—starting from his wrist, his left hand vanished into thin air, leaving only Old Man Aiken's terrified and trembling eyes.

Sean observed Grindelwald's movements, hoping to learn a trick from him.

It's a bit of a shame I didn't learn it... However, that spell just now seemed to drain the life force from my left hand and transfer it to my right; it was terrifying...

Grindelwald showed off his "work" for a moment, then casually tossed it aside as if it were trash. He waved his wand, and the office door opened automatically without any wind.

"Originally, for trespassing in Newmontgard and daring to interrogate a student without my permission, you should be sent to the herb garden to be composted—but for the sake of your missing son, I'll spare you that. Go back, Old Man Aiken, and remember to thank me for my mercy every day when you pray," Grindelwald said with a smile.

Old Man Aiken dared not say another word. He tightly gripped his lost left hand and, as if in a daze, quickly led his men away.

Grindelwald turned to look at Rosier and Goodman, raising an eyebrow. "You two—never mind, it's my fault for holding you back, but don't let this happen again."

The two men didn't even mind Sean's presence. They knelt down on one knee and placed their right hand on their chest, saying, "Thank you for your mercy, Lord Grindelwald."

"Call me Principal."

"Yes, Lord Grindelwald."

"...Never mind," Grindelwald turned and left, waving for Sean to follow, "Let the children go to sleep."

The two left the office and walked along the quiet stone corridors of Newmontgard in the night.

"Sir, that was really cool," Sean complimented sincerely.

Grindelwald stroked his short mustache smugly. "Thanks for the compliment, Sean, but you haven't seen anything cooler. I should really show you some when I get the chance."

"I'm looking forward to it, sir."

"Let's not talk about that. What about Little Aiken?"

"It's in my ring..."

"As expected..." Grindelwald nodded, then waved his hand dismissively, "Do whatever you want, just release him tomorrow morning."

Sean nodded. "I understand. Should I do something...?"

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Grindelwald gave me a 'you're weird' look. "I'm the headmaster of Newmontgard! I should be frantic with worry about a missing student, not discussing with the killer how to deal with the kidnapped hostage!"

"I just had a long talk with the student who was frightened to help him overcome his trauma; I don't know anything else."

Sean chuckled. "Pfft, I see, sir—but as the principal, there are bound to be many restrictions, aren't there?"

Grindelwald sighed and shook his head, "That's why I admire Albus so much—to have remained so kind and tolerant in the position of headmaster for so long."

"Oh, that gentleman will thank you for your kindness."

"He should have done it—" Grindelwald said matter-of-factly. "Sean, you must understand, I've always believed that every wizard is an extremely valuable resource. Unless absolutely necessary, I wouldn't want to harm any wizard. But sometimes, insatiable people overstep their bounds. I've been headmaster for so long that they've all forgotten my former role—"

"The First Generation Dark Lord?" After spending so much time together, Sean started to make offhand remarks.

"That's one way to put it," Grindelwald shrugged indifferently, showing none of the imposing presence or composure of an old man. "When you have control over the writing of the History of Magic, you can name such things however you like, even something as simple as Cockroach Cluster or gin."

Sean looked at the other person and nodded silently. History is always written by the victors.

Grindelwald never cared about such empty titles, and what he just said was the truth. He cherished the life of every wizard—of course, he didn't say the second half of his sentence: if he could achieve his ultimate wish, Grindelwald was willing to sacrifice countless lives, including his own.

I just don't know if the other party still holds that goal.

Grindelwald did not take Sean to his office; the two stopped at the fork in the road leading to the Hogwarts Common Room on the first floor.

"Well, what a pleasant conversation, what a delightful evening—" Grindelwald remarked with satisfaction. "Before you go back, I have one more question."

"What?"

"What would you have done with the Veritaserum if I hadn't gotten back in time?" Grindelwald asked with interest.

Sean knew the other person was curious about his follow-up plans, and he would probably be a little disappointed if he didn't have a contingency plan for this situation.

"Pop~" Sean took out a bottle and opened the cork.

This is not Veritaserum, but a bottle of ordinary Invigoration Draught.

"To you, sir." Sean raised his glass—no, he raised the bottle in a gesture of respect—and then took a sip.

Grindelwald watched the scene unfold before him. He saw the pale white liquid that slid into Sean's deliberately wide-open mouth turn into black, bubbly water as it passed through his throat.

He clapped his hands almost excitedly.

"Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful Silent Transfiguration." Grindelwald said "beautiful" three times, his eyes practically overflowing with admiration.

"Without a cane?" he asked with great interest.

Sean stretched out a hand and showed the wand hidden in his sleeve, pointing at his throat.

"It can only be silent, but it cannot be without a cane."

Yes, that's his method: using Silent Transfiguration to turn Veritaserum into euphoria. Under the Gamp's Law, the resulting euphoria has a strong disinfectant smell, but that doesn't matter, as long as he can smell it.

Once he drank it, the Veritaserum, which had turned into a "happy water," lost its effectiveness. Although his Silent Transfiguration couldn't last long, it was enough to handle the situation just now.

Grindelwald laughed and then angrily waved his fist at the air, "You wretched Albus, you're a Hogwarts student! Unbelievable! Look at your insidious little tricks. You should have been the next headmaster of Newmontgard."

Sean almost choked on his saliva. He wiped his mouth and said with a wry smile, "Sir, you just said that being a principal isn't a good job."

"How about another one? The next generation Dark Lord?" Grindelwald said with a smile.

"That doesn't sound very good either..."

"Ha—" Grindelwald laughed merrily, "That's your choice."

"I hope so too."

After they parted, Grindelwald watched Sean's departing figure, his smile gradually fading as he murmured to himself, "Choices..."