Treading stairs no human had set foot on in who knew how many years, Dumbledore followed the House-elf step by step to the top of the tower.
The door suddenly opened slowly, and he saw the man sitting at the desk by the window.
His hair was withered gray-white, his body already slightly hunched, and he was so thin he barely looked human; on that dried-up face, almost nothing of his old appearance could be found.
Only those eyes still shone bright.
"Albus," the man said with a smile. "You look truly old."
For a moment, Dumbledore did not know what to say. He only stood where he was.
"Oh, come in. I made honey tea. I don't know if your tastes have changed after all these years, but these are bees I had Damut keep on the mountain outside, so it more or less counts as something I made with my own hands. They gathered nectar from dozens of kinds of flowers. It should taste quite good."
Dumbledore hesitated, then walked through the door. He then saw Grindelwald stand, limp slowly over to a cabinet, take out a bottle of flower honey, and make tea for the two of them.
"Your leg..."
"Ah, this?" Grindelwald said, unconcerned. "It's a little cold here. You know I can't use magic, and my joints aren't in very good shape."
Dumbledore frowned. After a long while, he drew his wand. "Episkey!"
Grindelwald let him do as he wished. When the spell ended, he moved that leg, then looked at the wand in Dumbledore's hand. "You use it well."
"I thought with House-elves here, you would be taken very good care of," Dumbledore said.
"Indeed. They're very loyal and obedient," Grindelwald said. "But you know, I don't like them very much. They're not allowed