"Don't forget that we also have a responsibility to the people. I mean pure-bloods, half-bloods, Squibs, even Muggles... we must guarantee their livelihoods."
"I have no objection to the first three." Grindelwald frowned slightly. "But those foolish Muggles? Have you forgotten what made your sister this way?"
"Gellert, we cannot judge them all by a few. Just as there are good and bad wizards, there are good and bad Muggles. We can rule the world, but we absolutely cannot become madmen who know only slaughter."
Grindelwald stared at him for several seconds, then smiled.
His smile held a measure of helplessness, a measure of indulgence, and a measure of genuine admiration.
"Albus, you're right. Muggles have their value, of course. If they submit to our rule, I will naturally give them a decent life."
"Exactly, Gellert. Lasting rule can never depend on violence."
"Albus, you really do understand politics better than I do." Grindelwald held out a hand to him. "Come, for the greater good!"
Young Dumbledore paused briefly, then took his hand.
"For... the greater good? I like that phrase."
Two young hands clasped in the sunlight.
They smiled at each other, brimming with confidence and youthful spirit.
That summer on the hillside shone so brightly that it seemed it would never end, as though the world already lay prostrate at their feet, waiting to be reshaped.
Watching this scene, Gerald felt an inexplicable stir of emotion.
Such youthful passion!
There really was nothing more moving than youthful spirit.
In that brief moment while his mind wandered, the images around him began to change rapidly.
The scene shifted to the front of a stone house.
It was built of gray stone, with rough, thick walls and tiny windows that admitted only dim, limited light.
Young Dumbledore and young Grindelwald