"Professor Wilson, Professor Snape, did you rest well last night?"
Su Ming and his colleagues were eating at Ilvermorny School when they ran into Principal Fontana early in the morning. Though he was as enthusiastic as ever, his face was full of exhaustion, as if shrouded in dark energy. In China, they called that a darkened glabella.
"We did, thank you." With the dining etiquette of a British nobleman, Professor Wilson swallowed his food, set down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth, and only then replied.
Sunlight fell across his face, and his smile was reserved and proper.
London was five hours ahead of the United States East Coast time zone, so after Su Ming had accompanied the Old Dark Lord in launching the mark that morning, the two of them even had time for breakfast tea and idle conversation, watching office workers walk back and forth beneath umbrellas through the café window.
Grindelwald had even held out his hand to his ally for money, then gone on a shopping spree at the Bond Street stores that had just opened for business. He did not like robes; he loved the stylish clothes Muggles wore.
After being locked up for so many years, he desperately needed to replenish his "fashion energy" so he could remain at the forefront of charm.
"Do I look good in this?"
Grindelwald did not even care that Aurors were hunting him down. Patiently, he changed clothes again and again, coming in and out of the fitting room from time to time to ask Su Ming's opinion.
He knew quite a bit about British Aurors. He knew those rigid-minded people would never think to look for him in Muggle shops. Perhaps they had already searched every sewer and toilet in the Ministry of Magic, but young