Isaac cleared his throat, then imitated Grindelwald's tone and expression as he said to Dumbledore:
"Albus, you look so much older."
"Gellert..." Dumbledore's eyes flickered. Then he drew his wand.
"Isaac, I'm sorry, but I'd like to inspect this house first, all right?"
"Of course. Be my guest~" Isaac didn't mind. This was the love nest Grindelwald had once prepared for him and Dumbledore.
Strictly speaking, the house belonged to Grindelwald. Isaac supposed Grindelwald agreed that Dumbledore was its other owner.
As for Isaac Waldore, he was, at most, a poor student lodging here and living off the "master of the house."
Now that the house's other owner wanted to give it a quick, magically assisted cleaning, how could Isaac refuse?
When Dumbledore began casting, Isaac finally got to witness firsthand how the highest peak in the Wizarding World wielded magic.
Dumbledore barely moved. He simply flicked his wand, and a great cloud of glittering dust sprayed from its tip.
The sparkling dust then rolled through the entire house.
After confirming there was nothing inside the house that had anything to do with magic—or, more precisely, with Grindelwald—
Dumbledore put away his wand.
"Is he still in Nurmengard?" Dumbledore suddenly asked Isaac.
"Of course. What appeared here just now was only an illusion that I alone could see.
"It's a by-product of a Seer's efforts to develop their Prophecy talent.
"It only works on Seers."
Isaac gestured invitingly to Dumbledore. "Would you like something to eat, Professor Dumbledore?"
"Of course!" Dumbledore blinked. "I could smell the beef and apple pie earlier. I was just wondering how to tactfully angle for a meal~"
"You're joking. I prepared this especially to welcome you."
Isaac noticed that the people in the kitchen and dining room had barely reacted to Dumbledore's actions.
It wasn't the composure of professionals. It was more like they hadn't seen anything at all.
Clearly, while inspecting the house, Dumbledore had used magic to "screen" them.
Once the last dessert had been served, Anthony settled the remaining payment with the cooks and maids at Isaac's request.
Then he saw both teams out.
Their presence would only make it harder for Isaac to speak freely with Dumbledore.
"Are they all Muggles?" Dumbledore suddenly asked, stating the obvious.
Isaac nodded, looking as though that went without saying.
"Of course."
"I live here, and the neighbors are all ordinary people—or Muggles, as you call them, Professor.
"Before I received my Hogwarts letter, I went to a Muggle school, too.
"Anthony's a Muggle as well. You need help to put on a proper dinner party."
"Fortunately, the account Anthony manages is fairly well funded, so I didn't have to touch the little fund I set aside for giving people Prophecies."
Isaac had nothing to hide from Dumbledore, and no reason to.
He was only an eleven-year-old boy. Even if he said something wrong, Merlin would forgive him.
"Oh, right. Professor McGonagall mentioned that you gave a Prophecy to a little witch who hasn't started school yet."
"Actually, I wouldn't call it a Prophecy." Isaac laughed along with Dumbledore.
All he'd seen was Professor McGonagall visiting Hermione Granger's home the next day.
Since Professor McGonagall was going in person, and Hermione was one of the trio from Harry Potter, her family's concerns would surely be put to rest after the professor called.
A little Prophecy, a little deduction, some vague wording, and a few auspicious phrases.
That was the main reason Isaac's stall was so successful throughout Barnet District.
To some of his "regulars," Isaac wasn't a Seer whose every word came true.
He was just a lucky, likable young fellow.
Some people thought Prophecy was nothing but hocus-pocus and best avoided.
But when a lucky, charming young man was around, who wouldn't want to hear a few kind words and maybe catch some of his good fortune?
That was how business worked: you didn't give customers what you thought was best; you gave them what they needed.
After hearing Isaac's business philosophy, Dumbledore laughed heartily.
They shared the same identity as Seers and the same gift for Prophecy. At Isaac's age, Grindelwald had probably already been thinking like the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards.
Dumbledore couldn't say Grindelwald had been wrong. In that era of rapid technological change, Muggles had been charging ahead while wizards stood still.
For a Seer like Grindelwald, with his own firm convictions, that was painful.
Isaac's background and his life in an affluent Muggle neighborhood meant he was bound to disagree with some of Grindelwald's views.
Still, Dumbledore knew how persuasive his old lover could be.
Isaac was a good boy. Until the boy grew up, Dumbledore felt it was his duty to keep him from taking in too many of Grindelwald's extreme ideas.
Once he'd finished laughing, Dumbledore invited Isaac to enjoy the delicious food on the table with him.
Of all the dishes, Isaac liked the German pork knuckle and sauerkraut best.
Eating them made him feel at least a little closer to home.
In his previous life, Isaac had been from Northeast China.
After Isaac had gnawed on a pork knuckle, Dumbledore casually asked, "Isaac, do you know when Gellert left Nurmengard?"
At Dumbledore's question, Isaac shook his head without hesitation.
"I've tried to peer into Nurmengard's future many times, but I've never been able to observe the place or Gellert directly.
"In other words, unless I go to Nurmengard myself, the only way to get a result like the one just now is for Gellert to come find me. I can't use the same method to find him."
Isaac wasn't surprised by the result.
Gellert Grindelwald had become a Seer more than a century ago. After Dumbledore locked him away in Nurmengard, he'd rarely left his room.
In a wizarding world where age only made people more formidable, Isaac wouldn't have been surprised no matter how powerful Grindelwald's Prophecy abilities had become.
He wasn't discouraged in the slightest, either.
Come on, this was the man who had once stirred up the entire European Wizarding World. How many Ministers of Magic had Grindelwald reduced to quivering wrecks?
Isaac was only an eleven-year-old kid. Wasn't it perfectly normal that he couldn't measure up to Grindelwald?
At least for now, Isaac hadn't found any cheat that could let him "level up with one click."
He was simply an eleven-year-old wizard with a little extra magical talent and a few other special abilities.