As the saying goes, those with a "corrupt eye" see everything as gay.
Grindelwald is certainly not that kind of person.
At least that's the official narrative.
The "agreement" he refers to is naturally the implicit contract made after that Legend duel, concerning his self-imprisonment and Dumbledore's assurance that he would no longer cause trouble.
"Respect me?" Dumbledore raised his eyes, his gaze piercing as he stared directly at Grindelwald. "Or do you actually need my 'help' or 'permission' to fulfill some... special needs of this 'avatar' of yours? For example, to make it exist more stably, or to go to some place with special magical protection?"
It has to be said.
The series of experiences did indeed make Dumbledore increasingly suspicious.
It's starting to resemble Gotham's paranoia. There's no way around it; the Wizarding World is too chaotic, to the point that Dumbledore has never had a truly peaceful day in his life.
"How is that possible?"
Faced with Dumbledore's sharp retort, Grindelwald suddenly rolled his eyes. This somewhat childish action, so unlike his usual image, startled even Dumbledore.
"By Merlin, Albus, why are you more suspicious than before?" Grindelwald's tone carried a hint of genuine helplessness and teasing.
"Can't I simply enjoy making a request that I know will put you in a difficult position, and then watch you frown, struggle, and weigh the pros and cons? For me, that's one of the few pleasures in this tower." Perhaps this was the real truth from Grindelwald. And this reason... so straightforward, so " Grindelwald -esque" wicked humor, actually made Dumbledore's tense nerves relax slightly. Compared to those schemes hidden beneath warmth or tragedy, this request, purely to see his reaction, although still troublesome, seemed... more in line with the mischievous mentality of this old adversary at times. Especially when the other party was truly old and frail, unable to stir up any more trouble.
"You're still as awful as ever." Dumbledore paused for a moment, his stern expression gradually softening into a scrutinizing look tinged with helplessness and a hint of understanding.
He slowly exhaled. "If... it really is just a clone spell without any Magic Power, used solely for sensory experience." He emphasized "if" and "really," and "and the time and scope are strictly limited... I can try to help you apply to the special oversight committee of the Wizengamot and the International Wizarding Union. We can go through the proper channels."
This was the biggest concession he could make, offering some flexibility within the framework of official procedures. However, Grindelwald shook his head, his usual authoritative smile returning to his face, his eyes laced with mockery: "Official procedures? Going through formalities? Albus, that's too slow." "The efficiency of bureaucracy, you and I both know. And I..." He leaned forward slightly, his heterochromatic eyes fixed on Dumbledore, "... I want to see London tonight. Right now."
"Tonight?"
Dumbledore's brow furrowed again, and the atmosphere, which had just eased, instantly tensed up once more. "Why the rush? Gellert, what are you planning? London isn't peaceful right now, you know that."
"Of course I know." Grindelwald's joking expression vanished, his tone becoming somewhat evasive. "It's precisely because it's turbulent that it's all the more worth watching, isn't it? As for why the rush..."
He paused, his gaze seemingly piercing through the tower walls, looking towards the unknown distance. "Perhaps it's because I have a premonition that if I don't go out tonight... I might never have another chance."
Dumbledore's heart skipped a beat. Prophecy! One of Grindelwald's most dangerous abilities! He stared intently at the other. "What did you Prophecy? About yourself? Tomorrow? Or...?"
Grindelwald met his gaze, nodded slowly and very slightly, then shook his head. This contradictory gesture made Dumbledore more confused and wary.
"Stop beating around the bush, Gellert!" Dumbledore's voice held an unusual sternness and a hint of barely perceptible urgency. "Speak clearly! What exactly did you see?"
The air at the top of the tower seemed to have solidified. The clear brilliance of the crystal seemed to be dimmed a bit. Grindelwald took a deep breath, and the last trace of joking or emotion on his wrinkled face disappeared, leaving only an almost cold solemnity that belonged to a prophet after seeing his fate. In his heterochromatic eyes, it seemed as if there were scenes of stars being annihilated and time and space being distorted.
He looked at Dumbledore, and spoke each word clearly and slowly, yet it resounded like thunder atop the silent tower:
"I Prophecy... if I didn't go out tonight,"
"I will die."
He paused, allowing the weight of those words to fully sink into Dumbledore's consciousness, and then, as the other's pupils constricted in shock, added the even more impactful second half:
"And you, Albus."
"And... everyone."
He won't rest until he says something truly shocking.
A deathly silence fell upon the top of the tower. Only the completely cooled tea and the cold, lifeless pie beside it silently bore witness to this earth-shattering Prophecy.
"What!"
The color seemed to have faded from Dumbledore's face.
His fingers, resting on the stone table, tightened slightly, his knuckles turning white. In his azure eyes, shock, doubt, scrutiny, and deep worry surged like a storm. When it came to truly important Prophecy, he knew Grindelwald's Prophecy abilities and that the man was not one to exaggerate! But this prophecy was far too horrifying, too far-reaching!
"Everyone?" Dumbledore's voice was hoarse. " Gellert, do you know what you're saying? What kind of catastrophe would involve... everyone? A new Dark Lord? His power is rampant, but it's far from that level!"
Grindelwald did not answer his question directly.
He simply leaned back in his chair, as if the Prophecy he had just made had taken a lot of his energy. His gaze became deep and unfathomable again, landing on Dumbledore's face with a complex meaning.
"Therefore, Albus."
He spoke slowly, his tone regaining its calmness, yet carrying an undeniable resolve, "I need to go out. Tonight. In my own form. Both for a walk, and for reminiscing. Also, to... confirm some things, and perhaps... to change some things." "Even if it's just a tiny bit." He looked at Dumbledore again, his eyes sharp and pleading. "I need your help. Not as a prisoner, not as an enemy. But... as two old men who once saw further, now equally bound by time and responsibility. Help me tonight to open a crack. You know I love this world deeply."
This might determine whether we even have a "tomorrow."
Grindelwald began speaking, one sentence at a time.
"Is that really so?" Dumbledore stared intently at him, trying to discern the truth from every wrinkle on his face and every flicker in his eyes, and to weigh the pros and cons.
The silence within the tower seemed to carry a weight, making it hard to breathe. After a long while, Dumbledore spoke, his voice low and slow, as if each word had been carefully considered with immense weight.
"Tell me, Gellert. Where in London are you going? To see what?"
He stared intently at his old friend.
Grindelwald's lips twitched upwards almost imperceptibly, a smile that was nearly invisible. He knew he was halfway there. He pointed a finger lightly to the cold, oil-paper-wrapped pie next to the open ancient book on the stone table. "Go to a bridge," he said softly, his heterochromatic eyes reflecting the cool, crystalline light, as if also reflecting the shimmering lights and bridge shadows on the River Thames.
"Go see a... special ' Raven '." Grindelwald seemed to have no intention of hiding anything; his previous behavior had all seemed to be just teasing Dumbledore.
" Raven?"
Dumbledore's brow furrowed instantly, like two snow-covered mountain ridges. The word, uttered by Grindelwald, carried an unusual weight.
so.
The Raven here do not refer to the noisy black birds in the sky.
"Is it that Raven?"
As if struck by a sudden thought Dumbledore's spirits lifted. In his long and erudite life, especially during those dark years of his early obsession with exploring the mysteries of death and searching for the Resurrection Stone, he had delved into countless ancient, forbidden, and even mythical legends and texts. Among them, the image of the " Raven," in a peculiar and ambiguous manner, occasionally flickered on the edge of those records about Destiny, end, guidance, and powerful beings beyond reason.
It is not a specific historical figure or known Magical Creatures, but rather a "symbol" or "concept" that has lingered across time and appeared intermittently in different civilizations and mystical systems.
Sometimes it is associated with death and Prophecy, and sometimes it is described as a maintainer of order in chaos, or even an executor of some ancient "contract" or "trial" that is difficult to trace.
It is a being far more mythical than the Phoenix. Dumbledore once saw the most detailed description of this symbol in an extremely obscure ancient text fragment about " Misty Illusion," linking it with obscure concepts such as "witness to ultimate change" and "the unraveler of causal threads."
However, the document was vague and full of metaphors and conjectures, more like a philosophical conjecture about some higher-level laws of existence than an empirical record.
Therefore, when Grindelwald mentioned it at this moment, and clearly linked it to the "key" to going out that night, Dumbledore felt an unprecedented sense of astonishment. Could those ethereal, almost mythical accounts actually point to some real... entity? "You found... that 'bird'?" Dumbledore's voice unconsciously lowered, as if afraid of disturbing something indescribable, his sharp blue eyes fixed on Grindelwald.
"The legendary ' Raven '? It... has appeared on earth? Right here in London?"
He subconsciously used "it" because, in his limited understanding, it was more likely a conceptual entity or some powerful mythical being, rather than a concrete "person."
Grindelwald took in the subtle shock and solemnity on Dumbledore's face, and the mysterious and playful smile on his lips, hidden in the shadow of his hood, deepened.
Instead of answering Dumbledore's question directly, he leaned forward slightly, his heterochromatic pupils gleaming in the dim light with an almost inviting light.
His voice was low and seductive.
"Why don't you go see him for yourself, Albus?"
He spoke slowly, his tone carrying a sense of intimate intimacy, as if sharing a secret, "Stay with me, keep an eye on me, and I promise you... you'll be very surprised."
The proposal itself is astonishing enough—two old rivals, once bitter enemies and now with a complex and delicate relationship, actually want to "join forces" to spy on the movements of something that might be a mythical being?
But what truly shook Dumbledore was the crucial information in Grindelwald's words, which Dumbledore had inadvertently revealed yet keenly grasped. Grindelwald said, "You'll be surprised," but the preceding sentence, "Why not go yourself?" clearly implied "go see him!"
"He"?!
Dumbledore's pupils contracted sharply, like a cat's eyes stung by a bright light. An indescribable horror, like a cold electric current, instantly shot through his spine.
Directly to the brain!
Not "it"! It's "he"!
Grindelwald uses the personal pronoun "He," not the impersonal "It"! This means that, in Grindelwald's perception or Prophecy vision, the being associated with the " Raven " symbol is not some mindless magical phenomenon, an ancient cursed entity, or a conceptual force, but rather an being with a definite personality?
An entity that can be called "him"! This completely transcends all of Dumbledore's previous assumptions and knowledge framework! The legendary symbol has become a concrete "him"?
The impact and questions raised by this were explosive.
who is he?
Where did it come from?
Why did it appear at this time? What power does it possess? What is its purpose? And what is its connection to Grindelwald's Prophecy and the terrifying future where "everyone will die"?
Countless thoughts collided wildly in Dumbledore's mind, causing even this seasoned and wise old man to momentarily lose his composure and disbelief.
His breathing quickened almost imperceptibly for a moment.
Then.
The horror and scrutiny in his eyes were like sharp swords, piercing Grindelwald, trying to dig out more truths from the depths of the other's mysterious smile and heterochromatic eyes.
Grindelwald seemed quite pleased with Dumbledore's reaction. He didn't avoid the sharp gaze, but instead met it calmly, as if to say: See, I knew you'd look like that. He said nothing more, simply waiting quietly for Dumbledore's decision after his shock. The air at the top of the tower seemed to solidify into amber, firmly sealing the surging undercurrents and silent struggle between the two. Even the clear light of the crystal seemed to have stopped flowing, leaving only the heavy, slow breathing of the two old men, and the faint but persistent warmth from the outside world represented by the cold pie.
"Da da da~"
Dumbledore's fingers unconsciously traced the cold edge of the stone table, his mind racing.
Grindelwald's Prophecy were appalling.
The information involving " Raven " was even more shocking.
but.
Raven... Dumbledore's eyes struggled frantically.
His longing arose.
Grindelwald really hit his weak spot!