Waiting for Dumbledore to complete the handover.
Grindelwald then slowly stepped across the threshold he had not crossed for decades. The night breeze brushed against his aged face and ruffled his silver hair.
"A nice night."
He took a deep breath of the cold, free air outside, a complex and indescribable glint flashing in his heterochromatic eyes before returning to calm.
He walked up to Dumbledore, the two of them only a step apart.
" Albus," Grindelwald said, his voice sounding somewhat ethereal in the night breeze.
Dumbledore didn't respond to his greeting, simply saying, "Let's go."
Two international Auror immediately stepped forward, one on the left and one on the right, forming a subtle protective stance, even though they knew this posture might be meaningless to Grindelwald.
" Professor Dumbledore," one of the Auror couldn't help but speak again, his tone serious, "I must remind you one last time of the responsibility you bear... I hope you fully understand what you are doing. In the event of any unforeseen circumstances—..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was obvious.
Dumbledore turned and glanced at him; in the moonlight, his profile appeared somewhat hard. "I know perfectly well."
The old man uttered only these three words and then said nothing more.
He looked at Grindelwald, Grindelwald nodded slightly, indicating that he was ready.
Dumbledore extended a hand and placed it on Grindelwald's shoulder, a gesture that made the two Auror' eyelids twitch, but Dumbledore ignored it.
He simply gripped his wand with his other hand.
The Elder Wand
"Hurry up," Dumbledore whispered.
Grindelwald did not resist; in fact, he relaxed his body in compliance.
The next moment, the air exploded with a loud bang as if it had been violently compressed!
"Smack!"
The two figures vanished from their spot in an instant, leaving only a slight magical fluctuation and a swirling current of air. Apparition, destination— London, United Kingdom.
The two International Auror stood motionless, staring at the empty rocky platform and the silent tower in the distance. The night wind howled, carrying a biting chill.
"Crazy... really crazy..." an Auror murmured, shaking his head, his face filled with worry and lingering fear.
An unprecedented and special "parole".
Decades of taboo and balance are about to be broken. The London night awaits the arrival of two Legend old men, and the mysterious " Raven " who has stirred everything.
" Dumbledore must have his reasons..." another Auror tried to convince himself, but his tone was also full of uncertainty, "Hopefully... he's right."
Just then, the emergency communication badges on their chests vibrated rapidly and emitted a dark red light—this indicated a high-priority international request for assistance or an alert from the British Ministry of Magic.
"What's going on?" The two men's expressions changed.
Activate the badge immediately.
An anxious voice immediately entered their minds. "This is the Auror Command the British Ministry of Magic! Emergency! A large-scale attack has occurred on Muggle Village in northern Yorkshire, suspected to be the Death Eater. There are Muggle casualties, and there are obvious signs of Dark Magic! Requesting nearby Auror Office support for investigation and containment! Repeat..."
Fortunately, it wasn't Dumbledore brought Grindelwald to become the Dark Lord.
However, the news about Voldemort wasn't much better. It was Death Eater again! The forces of the second Dark Lord, Voldemort, were becoming increasingly rampant in the United Kingdom, creating terror and chaos.
"Why."
The two Auror exchanged a glance, both seeing the solemnity and a hint of helplessness in each other's eyes.
While Grindelwald's parole is certainly alarming, the current situation presents an equally pressing crisis where countless people are bleeding.
"Report back to the British Ministry of Magic, we will proceed to provide assistance immediately," one of them said, pointing to the badge.
"But... what about Grindelwald..." the other person hesitated.
"With Dumbledore here... and our duty is to deal with the immediate threat," the Auror who spoke first sighed. "Let's go. This place... is no longer under our jurisdiction."
They glanced once more in the direction where Dumbledore and Grindelwald had disappeared, and at the now-silent prison tower, then without further hesitation, they simultaneously waved their wands.
"Slap! Slap!"
Two loud explosions rang out, and they disappeared into the cold night, heading towards another battlefield filled with bloodshed and darkness.
Meanwhile, after overcoming the spatial barrier, in a quiet, deserted alley in London, the air distorted, and the figures of Dumbledore and Grindelwald appeared.
The air, unique to London at night, a mixture of moisture, smog, and the city's atmosphere, hits you, while the faint sounds of traffic and the city's hum drift from afar. Outside the alley, streetlights cast a dim, yellowish glow, dappling the damp cobblestones.
Grindelwald steadied himself, took another deep breath, and this time, a genuine smile appeared on his face, though it seemed somewhat strange on his aged features. He looked around, his heterochromatic eyes gleaming with curiosity, nostalgia, and a hunter's sharpness in the dim light.
" London..." he murmured, as if savoring the name, "It's been... a long time."
Dumbledore, meanwhile, vigilantly observed his surroundings to ensure their presence went unnoticed—he used powerful Muggle warding charms and concealment magic.
Then, the headmaster of Hogwarts looked at Grindelwald and asked in a low voice, "Now, where do we go? To that bridge with the 'swaying shadow'?" Grindelwald looked away and turned to Dumbledore, his eyes becoming deep and focused again. He shook his head.
"No, Albus. Going directly to the bridge might be too conspicuous, and it might not even be where 'he' is right now." He narrowed his eyes slightly, as if sensing something.
We need to... confirm the latest location of the "bait" first.
"Bait?"
Dumbledore frowned.
" Jorkins, that lowly clerk at the Ministry of Magic." Grindelwald's lips curled into a calculating smile. " The Raven saved him and left some kind of... connection with him. Through him, we might be able to get closer, or at least, determine the Raven's approximate area of activity." This was definitely not Grindelwald's original plan.
pity.
The former headmaster didn't know.
Dumbledore moment, then offered no objection. This was indeed more efficient than blindly waiting in possible locations.
Do you know where he is?
"My 'little birds' can still occasionally send back some scattered messages." Grindelwald did not answer directly, but he was clearly aware of the situation. He raised his hand, his fingertips making extremely slight movements in the air, and a faint, almost imperceptible Magic Power Fluctuation spread out.
It was as if some pre-set tracking magic was being activated.
"Come with me."
As he spoke, he took the lead and walked out of the alley. Although his steps were slightly slow due to his age, they carried a peculiar rhythm and purpose. Dumbledore behind, and the two quickly blended into the crowds of the London night Street, like two ordinary elderly Wizard heading in a specific direction.
As night deepened, the city lights spread out like stars.
On the other side...
The Death Eater who escaped back seemed Destiny to bring about a meeting between two generations of Dark Lord. On the other side of London, darkness was gathering and surging in another form.
The approximate location is southeast London.
at this time.
Deep within a forgotten industrial ruin, a complex network of underground pipe systems and the basements of abandoned factory buildings are cleverly expanded, modified, and connected by powerful magic.
It has already formed a huge and hidden nest.
The air here was foul, thick with the smells of mildew, the pungent odor of residual Potions, and a faint yet unsettling lingering aura of dark Magic Power. The surrounding ruins were smeared with blasphemous symbols, and piles of unidentified Magic Materials and sealed dangerous items lay in the corners. Occasionally, figures in black robes and masks moved silently through the shadows, like strange fish swimming in the deep sea. This was an important stronghold for the Death Eater in London, a place where some of their core members gathered, received orders, or engaged in "private entertainment."
As dusk fell, the Magic Barrier at the entrance to the stronghold distorted, and a figure stumbled in, almost falling. His black robes were disheveled and tattered, covered in dust and grime, and his once pale but now bloodless face was etched with shock and a deep-seated fear. This was the man.
It was that Death Eater was intimidated by Ian's single glance in the Muggle neighborhood and whose methods left him terrified.
"Master! I need to find my master!" He scrambled into the relatively spacious main hall, immediately attracting the attention of several of his companions who were wiping their wands or whispering among themselves.
" Rowle?" A Death Eater wearing a silver mask and with a hoarse voice recognized him, his tone tinged with surprise and a hint of displeasure. "What's wrong with you? Did the mission fail? Where's that little bug from the Ministry of Magic named Jorkins?"
The Death Eater known as Rowle had no time to answer his colleague's questions. His eyes were bloodshot, his pupils slightly dilated from lingering fear, and his gaze swept frantically across the hall. His voice was shrill and Transfiguration with agitation and terror. "Master... I need to see the master! Immediately! There's... something terrible! Something extremely important!"
His unusual state and the urgency in his words caused the Death Eater in the hall to stop what they were doing and focus their attention on him, their eyes behind their masks filled with surprise and curiosity. Failure was not uncommon, but it was rare to see someone so distraught, demanding to see the Dark Lord directly. "The master is 'handling' important matters," another tall, brooding Death Eater, one of the temporary leaders here, said coldly. "Not just any Tom, Dick, or Harry can disturb us at will. Tell me, what happened? Has Jorkins been captured? Or have we encountered Auror ambush?"
"No... not Auror!" Rowle shook his head violently, as if trying to shake off those calm yet abyss-like eyes from his mind. "It's... it's something else! A... a monster! A terrible Wizard!! He... he..."
He spoke incoherently, trying to describe it, but the immense fear rendered his vocabulary inadequate; he could only repeatedly emphasize "horrible," "powerful," and "unbelievable."
It can only be said that their English vocabulary is indeed limited.
"A monster? Wizard?" The tall Death Eater scoffed, clearly disbelieving. "To scare you back like this, did Dumbledore personally intervene? Or has the Ministry of Magic secretly developed some new weapon?"
This was clearly impossible. Several suppressed snickers rang out from the surrounding area, obviously believing that Rowle was making excuses for his failure, or even that he was scared out of his wits.
"No! Not Dumbledore! I swear! More... more than that..." Rowle was on the verge of tears when he suddenly remembered something. He ripped open his shirt like a lifeline, revealing pale skin, and pointed to a spot above his heart. "Look! Look! The Dark Mark left by the master isn't reacting! But in my soul... I can feel... something else... something he left behind!"
Upon hearing this, the Death Eater became slightly more serious and moved closer to examine it. The Dark Mark was indeed quietly imprinted there, without burning or becoming visible due to encountering a powerful enemy or facing a life-threatening situation.
But the shock and fear that Rowle felt on a spiritual level did not seem entirely fake.
"What exactly happened to you?" The tall Death Eater's voice became more serious. "Explain clearly."
Rowle Hard Work to catch his breath, recounting his afternoon's events in broken, incoherent sentences: how he tracked Jorkins to the Muggle neighborhood, how a seemingly ordinary young, dark-haired wizard suddenly intervened just as he was about to succeed, how he effortlessly defused the aftermath of the battle and protected the Muggle, how the wizard nearly froze his Magic Power with a single glance, rendering him unable to Apparition, how he easily imprisoned space when Raoul tried to escape, and how he left a cold "mark" and a threatening word in Raoul's soul... It sounded like a story from television. But it was true.
"He said that if he saw us behaving so brazenly in front of Muggle again, he would personally come to 'pay homage' to his master! How audacious!" Rowle almost screamed as he said this.
My whole body is shaking.
A brief silence fell over the hall. The other Death Eater exchanged glances; although Rowle's description sounded absurd, the fear that came from the depths of his soul was undeniable.
But.
In today's United Kingdom Wizarding World, who, besides Dumbledore, would dare to speak so brazenly as to "pay homage to the master"?
"An unknown, Great Wizard? Operating in Muggle London? And meddling in our affairs?" The tall Death Eater mused, his fingers tapping the cold stone wall. "This is a new development. But even so, it's not worth alerting Master immediately. Master's ongoing 'hunt' is of utmost importance..." "No! You don't understand!" Rowle interrupted him excitedly, grabbing the tall Death Eater's arm with astonishing strength. "He's not just powerful! He... he gives me a feeling... different! Unlike Master, Dumbledore! More... more ancient? Colder? I can't explain it!"
"But I can sense that his 'visit' is no mere talk! He has the ability! We must warn our master! Immediately!" This fellow is indeed extremely loyal.
The madness and despair in his eyes finally made the tall Death Eater waver. If Rowle hadn't completely gone mad or exaggerated, then this suddenly appearing unknown powerhouse might really need to be taken seriously, especially during the sensitive period when his master was carrying out that crucial " Prophecy " capture operation. Any unexpected variable could cause interference.