"?"
"...Hey? Speak up?"
Having demolished the remaining half of the steak, William still hadn't received a reply. He looked up, meeting Dumbledore's deep-set eyes under his glasses, which seemed contemplative, but based on William's understanding of him...
The old fellow was probably spaced out.
So he reached out and snapped his fingers loudly in front of Dumbledore's eyes.
"Snap—"
The crisp sound brought the somewhat dazed old man back to his senses. He looked at William and blinked, then shook his head and downed the juice with double the sugar in one gulp, "Mr. Graves will be the new Professor for Muggle Studies at Hogwarts next semester—"
"..."
As Dumbledore's words fell, the other three people looked at him in shock. Clearly, only Dumbledore knew about this beforehand.
"...Professor Burbage resigned?"
William put down the knife and fork in his hand, furrowing his brow even deeper than before... Hiring a Black Wizard as the Muggle Studies professor—was Dumbledore suffering from advanced senility?
"Yes, Professor Burbage actually told me two years ago that she wanted to live in the Muggle world for a while to get closer to understanding them. But during that time we couldn't find a suitable candidate, so it was temporarily shelved."
Dumbledore nodded and took Fawkes off his shoulder, placing it on the table.
"...Such a shame, Professor Burbage was a good person, but... Suitable candidate?"
William tried to pick more tactful words, but he couldn't hold back in the end, "Are you sure this is a suitable candidate? Have you gone blind? I feel Lockhart would be more fitting for this position!"
"Who's Lockhart?"
Percival asked curiously, as William pointed at him.
"I know, a... thief?"
Lupin raised his hand, despite his financial struggles he always maintained the habit of subscribing to the Prophet Daily.
"The key issue isn't Lockhart..."
William tried to steer the conversation back on track.
"Richard,"
Dumbledore spoke, drawing William's attention before continuing, "Perhaps everyone has a past they'd rather not remember, but similarly, everyone deserves a chance for redemption—"
"..."
Suddenly William felt the steak he just had was somewhat choking; Dumbledore's sudden words of wisdom nearly left him speechless.
Really, just like that?
Isn't it a bit too sudden?
"Then, see you at school, both of you."
Seeing William stunned, and thinking his words of wisdom were effective, Dumbledore happily squinted his eyes. Without giving the others time to react, he left a few Silver Sickles on the table and swiftly pulled Percival, who had somehow become all smiles again, away from the table, "This meal's on me."
"..."
Looking at the Sickles rolling towards him, William was momentarily speechless.
Is this money enough?
...
"So, this is the William you mentioned thirty-two times in your code of conduct?"
By the Inn river, "Percival" flicked the parchment in his hand dramatically, raising an eyebrow at the stern-faced Dumbledore beside him.
Dumbledore didn't reply, simply continuing to walk forward—this unexpected encounter was entirely unforeseen; ever since releasing Gellert Grindelwald from Nimangard, they've been lingering in Innsbruck, not far from that fortress.
The plan was to use this time to observe Grindelwald again, though this encounter was brushed off with a few words, but... it seems William and Lupin plan to stay here a while longer, so—Innsbruck can't be stayed at—"We're going back to the United Kingdom, now."
Decided, Dumbledore stopped and turned back to look at Grindelwald, who was still "examining" the code of conduct.
"...Are you really planning to make me a professor at Hogwarts?"
Grindelwald's smile faded; he remained silent for a moment before speaking again, his parched throat making his voice sound hoarse.
"Of course."
Dumbledore nodded without hesitation.
"...No."
"?"
"Forget it, I'm better off staying here."
Grindelwald suddenly shook his head and looked up at the Eastern Alps behind the city that both of them knew was the direction of Nimangard, "Actually, I've been dead for some time, since that day—" he lowered his head, glancing at the wand Dumbledore had taken out for Apparition.
The pale shape of the Elder Wand looked a bit odd.
"You don't need to drag a ghost back to the living, Albus... it's not good for anyone."
Seeing Dumbledore silent, Grindelwald suddenly chuckled self-mockingly, raising his thin palm to draw a circle in the air, and the next moment, a somewhat illusory blue flame flickered in front of them. Witnessing this, Dumbledore instinctively touched the Blood Alliance he had shrunk at his chest.
No reaction whatsoever.
"See, you can't truly bind me."
Grindelwald's smile turned slightly joyous because he knew the Blood Alliance hasn't failed, but Dumbledore has relaxed his demands somewhat, or perhaps this ancient magic simply couldn't hold up under such precise manipulation.
The successful establishment of the Blood Alliance was actually the result of many simplified processes by Dumbledore.
"..."
Dumbledore suddenly lowered his head, looking at his right hand holding the wand, as if contemplating something.
"... alright, send me back."
After a while, Grindelwald finally broke the deathly silence between the two, turning around to face the turbulent Inn river due to flooding season, waiting for the other's response.
"...No."
"...Don't be stubborn, Albus, we're no longer teenagers... sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned it."
Seeing Dumbledore suddenly freeze, Grindelwald recognized his verbal error, but only briefly apologized, then stretched out both hands toward Dumbledore again, "Come on, send me back, it'll be better for both of us."
"But I need you."
"...What?"
"It's not good for me, because I need you."
"Albus, you..."
"Old Dumbledore, you left something on the table..."
On the riverbank's railing, holding Fawkes, William suddenly poked his head out but quickly shut up, his eyes darting between the two before pausing on their clasped hands—
"See no evil, see no evil..."
After a brief silence, William raised a hand to cover Fawkes's eyes.
"?"