Zhang Xiao toyed with the golden cup in his hands. Even after a thousand years, it still gleamed as though it were new.
Its two finely wrought, solid-gold handles twisted in intricate curves, and exquisite symbolic designs adorned its body.
Hufflepuff's Cup had once been the first vessel at Hogwarts used to help house-elves transport magical food.
It had remained in Hufflepuff House until Helga's death.
Taking the cup in the end had been utterly uneventful. Just as Grindelwald had said, the Fire-Making Spell and Duplicating Charm were merely shoddy defensive measures.
They might have fooled inexperienced youngsters like Harry, Hermione, and Ron, but to the Old-Age Heist Gang, they were laughably crude.
The difficulty of stealing the cup had never lain inside the vault, but in Gringotts' defensive system.
Perhaps Voldemort had taken that into account when he entrusted the cup to Bellatrix, whom he trusted most, and had it hidden in her vault.
Under Grindelwald's deeply awkward gaze, Newt and Dumbledore casually cast Finite Incantatem, then proceeded as though they were shopping at a supermarket.
Once the bronze doors, now thoroughly molded to Dumbledore's will, closed behind them, everything looked as though nothing had happened.
Grindelwald returned to Nurmengard, though he said he was only going back for a rest. Once he had rested enough, he still wanted to come out and look around.
He wanted to see what the world had become after all those decades.
Zhang Xiao thought it might have something to do with the developments among Muggles he had casually mentioned while chatting with Grindelwald. Grindelwald had grown increasingly melancholy.
Of them all, only Newt had remained clearheaded throughout. He did not concern himself with the future of the wizarding world, nor did he harbor any prejudice against Muggles. One of his best friends