"Children not getting along is mostly due to the elders being without virtue—"
Looking at Fawkes, who seemed utterly bewildered, William squatted down and spoke earnestly, "You see, Dumbledore clearly knows you just experienced a breakup, yet he still flirts with others right in front of you, completely disregarding your mental health and avian safety—"
"...First of all, I didn't know."
Dumbledore sighed somewhat helplessly, "Likewise, I also didn't..." He suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion and turned to look at Grindelwald, who still seemed a bit dazed. His previously firm thoughts suddenly wavered—
If Grindelwald really went to Hogwarts as a professor... might there be too many bizarre entities at the school this year?
"So, how about we extend the foster contract to fifty years?"
William ignored Dumbledore and, like pulling a trick, produced a piece of parchment and a blotter from behind his back. He then pressed Fawkes' claw into the ink and left a bright red mark on Dumbledore's signature at the bottom right of the parchment.
"When did we have a foster contract?"
Looking at what was definitely a forged signature, Dumbledore's face involuntarily twitched—he certainly wasn't worried that William would actually take Fawkes away, because that contract had no magical effect, and everyone present, including the bird, was aware it was just a joke.
However, the atmosphere that had finally become serious was suddenly disrupted... Dumbledore could only swallow his words back down.
"Just now."
After putting away the contract, William dusted off his hands and picked up Fawkes, "Alright, I'll take him back first, you can continue enjoying your old man fun..." With that, he wasted no time and turned away from the riverbank—Lupin was still waiting for him at the restaurant.
"..."
"...So, are you still planning to go back?"
In the long silence, the river silently flowed from west to east, much like their irretrievable time.
"We're all old now; young people really do have energy..."
Grindelwald looked down at the flowing river, not directly answering, and gently kicked a stone, "Thud—" the stone made a muffled sound as it entered the water.
Logically, he should be older than us...
Dumbledore didn't know when he developed the habit of complaining in his heart—perhaps since the last "friend" who could talk properly had left.
"...What about the appointment letter?"
"?"
"Doesn't Hogwarts require a letter of appointment before professors start?"
"You've decided?... But that may have to wait until we return to the United Kingdom, I can have Minerva draft one for you."
"Then let's wait a little longer."
Grindelwald's gaze left the river surface, turning toward the snow-capped peak at the horizon, "Perhaps we still have time; maybe you could send a letter to that young lady."
"Wouldn't that be kind of abusing the owls?"
"...Then bring the Phoenix back."
...
"...I thought you actually planned to return it to the headmaster."
Looking at the brown bird dozing off on William's head, Lupin picked up the suitcase at his feet.
"That's a bit of overthinking."
William shook his head and began to glance over the shop entrances on both sides of the street. Time was approaching dusk, and the blood-red sunset climbed over the pitch-black cobblestone path. He walked against the flow of people, "I just wanted to see what kind of scheme Dumbledore is tangled up in—"
"...That old man, is he really a Black Wizard?"
Lupin paused for a moment but clearly didn't intend to remain silent, quickly catching up to William and continuing to ask.
"That depends on how you define it—"
"What do you mean?"
"If it's just the depth of research into the Dark Arts... then, Percy... uh, he surely is a bona fide Black Wizard."
While speaking, William's eyes constantly scanned the inn or tavern signs around them, thinking these poachers surely don't adhere only to serving wizards—the Statute of Secrecy is made for law-abiding citizens.
"There are other aspects... You mean like You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters?"
Lupin contemplated for a moment and then realized—a Black Wizard who merely studies the Dark Arts without hurting others might seem inconceivable, but theoretically it is indeed possible. However, due to the unique nature of Dark Arts research, everyone who has reached the pinnacle in this field is inevitably stained with blood.
"Yes."
"You're saying..."
Could there really be such a person? Lupin subconsciously widened his eyes.
"No, from that aspect, he's even darker."
"...There are other dimensions?"
"None."
"So, he's just a bona fide Black Wizard?"
"What else?"
"...Then why would Dumbledore be with him?"
"I'm not a Prophet, I know nothing... Everyone has a side they cannot show, as Dumbledore said; maybe he wants to help the Black Wizard atone? But that old man's vibe is off, more like a Squib than a wizard—"
Speaking, William stopped and looked up at the emblem above the inn's sign in front of them—even though the wood carving had become somewhat blurred and difficult to recognize due to wind and rain erosion, his targeted mind still found what he was looking for.
"Squib? Everyone has a side they cannot show?"
Lupin pondered this phrase briefly, his expression seemed somewhat desolate, "Maybe this side could be hidden very deep..."
"...What's up, you have a good buddy who's become a Death Eater?"
Taking the suitcase from Lupin's hand, William blinked—then proposed a reasonable guess.
As his words fell, Lupin's breathing suddenly paused, but in the end, he only sighed and shook his head without saying more.
Really?
William was stunned for a moment. He just said it casually, but seeing Lupin's undisguised melancholy, he seemed to have guessed right—what sort of magic did Voldemort have that could persuade so many people to slavishly cling to him?
Is it a pair of once-in-four-thousand-years perfect feet?
Tsk, worthy of England.
Of course, seeing Lupin's low spirits, William didn't continue to ask, but instead walked up to push open the inn's door. The dim yellow light flickered for a moment, and the crisp sound of the wind chime covered the feeble, mosquito-like greetings from the hotel front desk.
William gestured for Lupin to wait aside, then walked to the front desk and lowered his voice, "I hear there's fun to be had here?"
Just like activating a dialogue with an NPC, the fatigue on the man's face at the front desk instantly disappeared, and his gaze quickly circled around William and Lupin before focusing back on William—
"Are you... Wizard sir?"