Grindelwald thought Kyle had done something that made Dumbledore in the portrait treat him with such cold disdain.
Kyle offered no explanation.
He was trying hard to keep his expression under control and stop himself from laughing...
Grindelwald probably never dreamed that those hideous, utterly useless woolen gloves he had mentioned were actually Dumbledore's handiwork.
After all, when he had been locked away in Nurmengard, Dumbledore had not yet displayed this particular hobby.
It made sense. No one would ever believe that a powerful wizard with an ever-growing reputation in the wizarding world liked woolen socks.
People preferred to believe that he loved reading and tirelessly sent him all sorts of magical books for Christmas.
Dumbledore might have explained it before, but no one had likely believed him at the time. So later, he stopped saying anything about it, effectively acquiescing.
Meanwhile, Grindelwald had remained imprisoned in Nurmengard and knew nothing about it. That was why, upon seeing those woolen gloves, he had instinctively thought of Minerva McGonagall.
In truth, Professor McGonagall did not know that primitive craft of knitting with yarn. She was more accustomed to solving problems with efficient Transfiguration spells.
Thinking of this, Kyle could only work even harder to keep a straight face. He was certain that if he laughed now, Grindelwald would definitely fly into a rage out of embarrassment.
Besides, the man had come all this way to help. Mocking him would be somewhat impolite.
"Maybe... you did something that upset him." Kyle did his best to make his voice sound the same as before.
"What did I do?"
"How about... you think about it yourself?" Kyle truly could not come up with any excuse, so he could only let Grindelwald figure it out himself.
And Grindelwald actually furrowed his brow and began pondering