"Well then, Kyle, let's go," Dumbledore said, glancing at the time. "We're just in time for breakfast."
Dumbledore led Kyle along the elevated stone bridge winding through the mountains toward the castle.
As they walked, Kyle racked his brain, trying to recall the movie plots from his past life. According to the usual process, wasn't Hogwarts supposed to send an owl with an acceptance letter first?
Why, in his case, had the headmaster himself shown up at his doorstep?
Sure, his situation was a bit… unusual.
And what was the deal with the American wizarding Aurors trying to arrest him?
Brimming with questions, Kyle spoke up. "Professor—er, I mean, Headmaster…"
"Just call me Professor," Dumbledore said, turning to Kyle with a wink and a smile.
"Alright, Professor," Kyle said, adapting quickly. He pressed on with his burning question. "Why did you say all of this has to do with my father?"
Dumbledore let out a soft, wistful sigh, weighing whether to reveal the truth about Kyle's origins.
Kyle trailed behind, unaware of the shifting expressions on Dumbledore's face.
After a brief moment of thought, Dumbledore made his decision.
"Do you know your surname?" he asked, stopping in his tracks and turning to face Kyle.
"Grindelwald?"
That was the name he'd been given, according to the head of the orphanage where he'd been left as a baby. It had been written on a note tucked into his swaddling clothes.
Kyle had no idea there was anything significant about the name.
And who could blame him? In his previous life, he hadn't been particularly invested in the Harry Potter series. He'd only watched The Sorcerer's Stone and hadn't even touched the Fantastic Beasts films.
So, Kyle was clueless about what the name Grindelwald meant in the European wizarding world.
"Your father," Dumbledore began, his voice heavy with memory, "was Gellert Grindelwald."
The name seemed to pull Dumbledore into a reverie.
Kyle's question snapped him back to the present. "What kind of person was he?"
"Let's walk and talk," Dumbledore suggested. The February chill of the Scottish Highlands was biting, and the morning breeze made him shiver. A man over a hundred years old wasn't exactly built for the cold.
"Your father, Gellert Grindelwald, was a deeply complex man—both an idealist and extraordinarily gifted."
"We became friends in the summer of 1899, bonded by a shared vision of a greater purpose."
Kyle blinked. 1899?
He rubbed his ears, wondering if his hearing was playing tricks on him.
"But later, for certain reasons, we parted ways," Dumbledore continued, a flicker of pain crossing his face. "After that, Gellert took a path that put him at odds with the law, launching a dark revolution."
"He sought reform outside the bounds of legality, and with his followers, he committed countless crimes. His influence spread across America and Europe…"
"He became known as one of the most powerful dark wizards in history."
Kyle opened his mouth, but words failed him. Where did he even begin?
His father was over a hundred years old?
Okay, fine, the age gap wasn't that big a deal.
The real issue was that his father was…
The term terrorist felt like an insult to someone who'd once shaken the wizarding world to its core. Kyle struggled to find the right word.
The world's most notorious criminal?
No, stop! His father wasn't Monkey D. Dragon, and he had no interest in becoming the Pirate King.
A wizarding warlord?
No, wait! His father wasn't Madara Uchiha, and Dumbledore wasn't Hashirama Senju.
Kyle reined in his runaway thoughts. "So, that's why the Aurors are after me?"
Dumbledore nodded.
"When a young witch or wizard turns eleven, their name automatically appears on the enrollment list of their local magical school. The American Magical Congress discovered you through that list."
"Fortunately, Mr. Scamander's wife used to work for the Congress. That's how Newt and I were able to find you before the Aurors did."
Dumbledore's explanation cleared up some of Kyle's confusion.
"What about my father? Where is he now? Why has he never come to find me?"
As he spoke, Kyle's tone carried a trace of resentment, though he felt no real attachment to this father he'd never met. Still, who wouldn't feel bitter after being abandoned in an orphanage for years, left to fend for themselves by age six? Even if Kyle was doing fine on his own now, he couldn't help but harbor some grudge against Gellert Grindelwald.
Unbeknownst to them, they'd crossed the castle's courtyard and reached the grand entrance.
Dumbledore paused at the doors, his expression tinged with sorrow.
"It's not that your father didn't want to," he said softly. "He couldn't."
His weathered hand rested gently on Kyle's golden hair. "In 1945, I defeated him. Since then, he's confined himself to Nurmengard, never stepping foot outside its walls."
Kyle froze. So, his never-before-seen father was in prison? And the white-bearded man standing in front of him was the one who'd put him there?
"What about my mother?"
At the mention of "mother," Kyle noticed a flicker of awkwardness on Dumbledore's face.
Sensing there might be something complicated there, Kyle quickly changed the subject.
"What about my identity? Will taking me in cause trouble for you?"
The son of a dark wizard was a risky title. If any of his father's old enemies came knocking, it could get messy. Kyle asked the question deliberately, hoping to secure himself a protector.
And who better than Dumbledore himself?
To his surprise, Dumbledore's response was unexpected.
"If you're willing, your name will be registered at Hogwarts as Kyle Dumbledore."
"When you've grown strong enough to stand on your own, you can reclaim the Grindelwald name if you choose."
Well, alright then. A new surname solved the problem—and with the Dumbledore name, he could probably strut through Hogwarts without a care in the world.
"I'd be honored, Professor," Kyle said with a grin.
It was clear Dumbledore and his father had been incredibly close, or else the headmaster wouldn't have made such an offer.
Dumbledore smiled warmly and patted Kyle's shoulder. "Come, let's head to the Great Hall for breakfast."
The Great Hall of Hogwarts
When Kyle and Dumbledore appeared at the entrance, the Hogwarts students were already seated at the four long tables. Thousands of candles floated above, illuminating the hall with a warm glow.
The tables were laden with gleaming silverware and an array of mouthwatering dishes. For a mere breakfast, the spread was almost excessive.
Oatmeal, bread rolls, orange juice, kippers, eggs and bacon, toast, buttered scones with jam, cornflakes…
Having spent years in an orphanage, Kyle had assumed foreign breakfasts were just bread with jam and a glass of milk.
Clearly, the orphanage had just been too poor to afford anything better.
At the far end of the hall, another long table was set for the professors.
Kyle, dressed in Muggle clothing, stood out starkly against the sea of students in their wizarding robes. Feeling their curious stares, he grew uneasy.
Just as he started to feel out of place, Dumbledore's gentle voice broke through.
"You can dine with me, or you can choose any of the house tables to sit at."
Faced with a room full of unfamiliar faces and their inquisitive looks, Kyle decided sticking with Dumbledore was the safer bet.
"Professor, I'll stay with you," he said, hurrying to catch up.