The atmosphere at the scene was somewhat delicate.
Faced with Dumbledore's words, Ian nodded and turned to Grindelwald.
"Let's go."
He did indeed have something to discuss with this professor. Grindelwald did not move. He stood where he was, his mismatched eyes fixed tightly on Ian, his voice low. "You still haven't told me how you knew."
He was quite surprised that Ian had guessed his secret. The corner of Ian's mouth lifted slightly, forming the faintest curve. It was almost the first expression he had shown that night.
"You haven't told me when you... became a Hogwarts professor, either."
Grindelwald fell silent.
Under the moonlight, the two looked at each other.
The atmosphere fell silent once more.
The surrounding Aurors could not understand a word of what they were saying and could only stare blankly at the scene.
A Hogwarts professor?
Grindelwald?
How was that possible?
Since when had the first Dark Lord had anything to do with Hogwarts?
Only Dumbledore had a flicker of extraordinarily complicated emotion pass through his bright blue eyes—understanding, surprise, and a trace of... deep concern.
He finally understood.
He understood why Grindelwald's attitude toward Ian had been so strange, why Grindelwald had sought help from an unfamiliar young man, and what Ian truly meant by calling him "Professor." In truth, once Dumbledore knew Grindelwald's secret, it was not difficult for him to guess this.
That was simply how minds bordering on the uncanny worked.
"Let's go."
Ian spoke again. This time, his tone was even flatter, yet carried an unquestionable finality. Grindelwald took a deep breath and finally stepped over to Ian's side.
The next second, both figures vanished beneath the moonlight.
The Aurors remained rooted to the spot, unable to recover for a long time.
"Professor Dumbledore..." Scrimgeour spoke with difficulty, his