The Headmaster's Office.
Will walked in to find Dumbledore attacking a heap of cream cakes dusted with icing sugar.
"Will, how did you find your O.W.L.s?" Dumbledore gestured to a chair, inviting him to sit.
"In terms of progress, this year's O.W.L.s aren't much different from those a hundred years ago. As for the difficulty, it's no wonder the wizards of the wizarding world are so poor at magic," Will said mildly.
Small details revealed the bigger picture. The O.W.L.s alone showed how stagnant the entire wizarding world had become.
"I thought you might enjoy them." Dumbledore slid a glass of grape juice toward Will. "Do you have time today?"
"I don't have anything on."
"It's been a while since we visited Gellert."
Now Will knew why Dumbledore had called him here. Then another thought struck him, and he asked:
"So, will this be our last visit to Nurmengard this term?"
Dumbledore considered it. "Or perhaps we could say... it depends?"
Will spread his hands. What else could he say?
A quarter of an hour later, Dumbledore finished his cakes and took out a broken ornament...
Nurmengard, amid the mountains.
The once bleak, forbidding mountains now wore a mantle of green, making even the pitch-black tower seem less oppressive.
"Good morning." Dressed in simple, tidy black robes, Grindelwald held a copy of the newspaper Today's Potions. A cup of hot tea and a plate of Salt pretzels sat on the table.
Pretzels were among Germany's most popular snacks. These small, hard, finger-sized Salt pretzels were bite-sized, savory, and crisp—perfect for nibbling while reading or watching television.
Will realized it was the very issue of Today's Potions in which he had published his work on potion transfiguration. Noticing Will's gaze on the newspaper, Grindelwald smiled at him.
"Al sent it to