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"Six teenage Acolytes are already taking action." Her response, though calm, sent a chill down Ian's spine.
"Will I even see a copy of the 'Daily Prophet' tomorrow?" Ian felt an unsettling premonition.
"Uh, maybe?" Aurora's tone carried a trace of uncertainty.
Tilting her head slightly, she turned her attention back to the iron bars hovering in the air.
"I need to hurry to the underground classroom; if my grandfather gets impatient, he'll likely blame you for delaying the reconstruction."
Aurora's remark made Ian freeze for a moment.
"Why aren't you with him now?" Ian instinctively asked before realizing how foolish the question was.
Sure enough.
"He's my grandfather; when there are others to blame, he'll naturally shift it to them." Aurora gave a casual wave as she guided the pile of iron bars down the corridor.
With no further exchanges, Aurora quickly reached the underground classroom.
Inside, Gilderoy Lockhart stood in the middle of the chamber, stroking his chin as he evaluated the space, seemingly envisioning a grand redesign. In one corner, the remnants of what had once been ghostly tableware and long dining tables were now nothing but a pile of blackened ashes.
"Why did it take so long? Did you run into any curious little wizards on the way?" Grindelwald, who had disguised himself as Lockhart, turned to glance at Aurora as she entered with the materials.
Aurora gave him a meaningful look, saying nothing, but the intensity in her gaze spoke volumes.
Aurora knew that lying would be pointless, and sure enough, Grindelwald raised his wand and gave it a gentle wave. All the itching powder Ian had carefully sprinkled across the iron objects gathered itself into a neat pile.
It was utterly useless. The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor even conjured a small pouch, sweeping the powder inside without revealing what he intended to do with it.
He didn't say a word about the teacher's desk, which had been rigged with a rather mischievous mechanism.
"Make sure to return this desk to its original spot… just like this." Grindelwald's smile didn't waver, his composure far exceeding what any student would have expected.
"Uh…"
Aurora silently mourned for Ian.
At that moment, Grindelwald's voice broke the uneasy silence.
"What did you two talk about?"
Aurora blinked, hesitating for a moment.
"Didn't you see?"
The young-faced Grindelwald shook his head, his expression unreadable.
"I saw nothing, child. I merely guided you, and you chose to reveal everything to me."
It was the sort of statement that might have unsettled Ian, but Aurora had long grown accustomed to her grandfather's cunning ways. She knew he was always several steps ahead.
"He wanted to know why you were spreading rumors about him, and I shared my thoughts with him," Aurora answered, choosing her words carefully.
Grindelwald's smile lingered. "To cover up the morning news? Do you really believe that?"
"Isn't it true?" Aurora frowned slightly, convinced her reasoning was sound.
"I've already shared a principle with your friend; perhaps it's time you heard it too." Grindelwald flicked his wand, and the iron items Aurora had brought began to shift and twist.
Before her eyes, the mundane bars of iron transformed into fearsome magical contraptions. They bore a distinct resemblance to medieval torture devices, arranged meticulously in their designated places around the underground classroom.
While his wand performed its work, Grindelwald continued his lesson, his voice calm and steady.
"Prophecies often contradict each other. Sometimes, they are nothing more than illusions. But the most striking prophecies, the ones that seem inevitable, are rarely as fixed as they appear. To the exceptional, they are malleable, capable of being steered toward a desired outcome"
Aurora watched the devices assemble with a growing sense of unease.
"Of course, bending a prophecy to one's will is no easy feat. That's why the influence of other wizards becomes invaluable."
The last of the torture devices clicked into place, and Grindelwald tucked his wand away. He observed Aurora with satisfaction, though the girl's brow remained furrowed in confusion.
"What do you mean?" She asked, still unable to grasp the depth of his words.
Grindelwald did not appear disappointed by her lack of understanding. He simply smiled, as though savoring a moment she had yet to comprehend.
"Child, the wonders of wizardry stretch far beyond your imagination. Our thoughts, our beliefs, and even our knowledge can become unwitting threads in a grander tapestry."
Aurora's eyes widened.
"Are you trying to make Ian compete with you for Dumbledore… and turn him into a male Veela?" Her voice was filled with disbelief, her tone rising with incredulity. Clearly, she had yet to hear the most absurd twists of the morning's rumor, a small mercy from her time spent assisting her grandfather.
Grindelwald's smile stiffened, the amusement fading from his expression. He visibly recoiled at the sheer ridiculousness of the notion.
"What kind of nonsense is this? Merlin's beard! I should've been more involved in keeping that story in check!"
It seemed the morning gossip had spiraled further than even the Dark wizard anticipated.
"Isn't it true then?" Aurora tilted her head, her words tinged with sly provocation.
"Of course not!"
Grindelwald's expression darkened abruptly. Only he could see the fleeting images flashing through his mind, his voice lowering with an ominous edge.
"I merely wish to plant a seed in the hearts of these young wizards. One day, it will grow and lend strength to a far greater purpose."
Grindelwald's tone was gravely sincere.
"What seed?"
Aurora suddenly looked up, suspicion flickering in her eyes.
But the smile had faded from Grindelwald's face. Instead, he gave her a cryptic response.
"The kind that will make that little brat grateful for it."
After a slight pause, he added with a trace of frustration, "Of course, some things may have deviated a bit from the plan, but nothing irreparable. However… I do need to find that little witch and fix the book she's got her hands on."
Without another word, Grindelwald spun on his heel and hurried from the classroom. His uncharacteristically hasty departure left Aurora pondering once more. She couldn't shake the feeling that her earlier assessment had not been entirely off the mark.
A grand purpose, indeed.
But he was undoubtedly trying to cover up the latest scandal.
...
Meanwhile, Grindelwald, now under the guise of a small, mischievous-looking witch, slipped seamlessly into the Slytherin common room. Drawing his wand with practiced ease, he pointed it toward the entrance of the girls' dormitory, his expression unreadable.
On the other side of the castle, Ian, who had initially planned to visit the Owlery, found himself caught off guard by a heated argument echoing from within. He quickly ducked around the corner, remaining hidden as the angry voices rang out.
"I told you! I didn't steal your stuff!"
"Who else could it be?! Don't lie to me! Someone said they saw you open it!"
"How many times do I have to say it? When I opened it, the things you're talking about weren't there! If you don't believe me, go ahead, dive into my memories, and see for yourself!"
Ian, still concealed in the shadows, couldn't see the speakers in the dim Owlery. However, the Marauder's Map in his hands provided all the clarity he needed.
The names displayed before him sent a chill down his spine.
''Albus Dumbledore.''
''Aberforth Dumbledore.''
(End of This Chapter)