Grindelwald: Why don't I teach him myself?

Grindelwald put down his Instant Whisper and sighed.

The sigh was soft, yet it seemed to be squeezed out from deep within his chest, carrying the weight of decades of pent-up emotions.

There's nothing more to say now.

Even if we had a communication device like Instant Whisper, even if we strengthened the power of our Acolytes, even if we expanded our victories...

In the end, he still had to face the person on whom everyone placed high hopes and who was pushed forward by everyone.

Grindelwald glanced up at Dumbledore and saw that the other man had just put a Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans in his mouth and was chewing it without showing any obvious expression.

Those blue eyes were calm as still water, and the wrinkles on her face didn't falter even a little because of the taste.

Ah, it looks like they've eaten something really bad.

Grindelwald's lips twitched slightly, but he didn't laugh out loud.

Withered fingers tapped lightly on the cover of the thin book. Grindelwald shook his head. It was fine to just use Instant Whisper to improve the wizards' lives.

The war is long over, and in this peaceful era, Al can finally relax.

Lucien.

They have all sorts of ingenious ideas, and they also have the ability to bring them to fruition.

This kind of person...

"Those questions you asked about Dark Magic curses," Grindelwald said, his tone becoming calmer, "I've been thinking about it. Al, you meant blood curses, right? Hmm, you mean that Maledictus named Nagini?"

Although Dumbledore did not explicitly reveal it, Grindelwald's mastery of Dark Magic and familiarity with Dumbledore allowed him to identify the specific type of curse from just a few words, and even guess the identity of the cursed person.

Dumbledore nodded silently.

When Nagini left, it had only been a few years since the final battle between Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

The two would not meet at that time— Dumbledore knew that even if he came, he wouldn't get any advice.

A conspiracy of ideals, a split in the road, an intimacy turned into estrangement...

Their relationship was so complicated that it was difficult to talk about.

But over the past few decades, people have changed a lot.

As I've grown older, I've become more gentle.

Grindelwald didn't care who Dumbledore was trying to get rid of, even if that person had been his adversary for a long time, and offered his advice in a slow, deliberate tone:

"In healing the soul, one could try to awaken her memories and emotions as a human being..."

After hesitating for a few seconds, he added, "If possible, let her have more new, human memories."

His fingers unconsciously drew circles on the table, as if recalling something from a long time ago.

Memory, emotion.

These things are like the last piece of driftwood for a drowning person to a corrupted soul.

"Of course, the overall process of breaking the curse requires more specific judgment; don't try it casually." Grindelwald's tone became solemn. "Curses are a vast field within Dark Magic, requiring systematic study; they can't be explained in just a few words."

Dumbledore nodded without interrupting.

Grindelwald picked up the now-cold tea in front of him, ready to drink it, when he suddenly remembered something and mentioned it:

"Regarding the realm of curses, my collection of books, as well as the Acolytes ' collections, were ultimately entrusted to Vinda for safekeeping."

Vinda Rosier.

Grindelwald's most loyal follower and capable assistant, the leading figure among the Acolytes, the Black Rose of France, the most dazzling jewel of the Rosier family...

"Of course," Grindelwald added, a hint of schadenfreude in his voice, "You certainly won't get it from me, Al. Not even with my tokens or letters."

"Heh, I bet Vinda's first thought upon seeing you will be to cast a curse, even without a wand in hand."

Dumbledore did not refute it.

He was indeed quite familiar with that Vinda.

The scenes where the two interact usually involve exchanging spells.

Vinda always harbored unwavering hostility towards Dumbledore, and—jealousy.

"However," Grindelwald changed the subject, a playful glint in his heterochromatic eyes, "This Instant Whisper is quite convenient. Why don't we have that Lucien and I—what's his name again? Oh, let's add each other as friends, and I'll personally teach him?"

Grindelwald's lips curled into an ambiguous smile.