Over by the wandmaker's workbench, the tape measure with silver lettering on a black background twitched at Gregorovitch's fingertips, then unrolled by itself and flew around Dumbledore while Gregorovitch wrote the corresponding measurements down on parchment.
"Dumbledore, ever since you last helped me drive off He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's Death Eaters, Germany seems to have been fairly peaceful... Do you think they'll still come looking for me?" After a burst of scratching, the wandmaker temporarily put away his quill and asked, "These thugs seem to have robbed the wealth of several Pureblood families abroad... Are You-Know-Who's people being pressed that hard? I don't think they'd find much in those families' ancestral homes... They should be going to Gringotts."
Dumbledore spread his arms and let the tape measure take his arm length. "Tom is anxious. He has discovered that he has an opponent he is utterly unable to defeat, but he refuses to admit it and cannot accept it. So aside from seeking wealth in an attempt to recruit followers, what matters more to him is trying to strengthen his own abilities. Therefore, before You-Know-Who confirms the Elder Wand's whereabouts, you are not safe here."
"Speaking of the Elder Wand's whereabouts... This is a wand that understands emotion least of all, the calmest and cruelest wand... It constantly tempts its masters into conflict, yet it does not remain loyal to any one person. It has no master for long, and it continually stirs up strife..." Gregorovitch leaned closer to Dumbledore. "Now it has actually vanished from your hands as well, which proves that very point... Dumbledore, forgive my impertinence, but I truly am curious... Dumbledore, who in the world could take the Elder Wand from your hands?" Gregorovitch quietly studied Dumbledore's expression. "Was it Allen Harris?"
"Oh? Why do you think it was him?"