Did you ask Blake to come to Nurmengard?

Dumbledore arrived far too quickly.

So quickly, in fact, that Vita had only just walked out when he entered.

Grindelwald had barely lifted his teacup before setting it down again with a grimace.

Damn. I thought I'd have time to moisten my throat first. Didn't expect the old man to be this fast.

"What do you mean!?" Dumbledore barked as he stormed in.

"What do I mean?" Grindelwald replied coolly, brushing invisible lint off his stylish trench coat. "I don't quite understand what you mean by that."

"Did you ask Blake to come to Nurmengard?"

Grindelwald sighed. "Ah. So you've caught one of my old subordinates, have you?"

"No," Dumbledore replied firmly. "You don't need to know how I learned. What matters is that I care deeply about that boy... so deeply that I will watch his growth constantly."

Of course, he couldn't reveal that he had an undercover agent within the Umbrella Party. Doing so would endanger others.

Grindelwald smiled faintly. "You don't need to admit anything. I just hope that now you've got what you came for, you'll stop hurting them."

"Yes, they followed me once, believed in domination—but now… they're just old men and women."

Dumbledore's expression didn't change, but he was clearly taken aback. Grindelwald sounded genuine—as if he didn't intend to retaliate against the informant.

And after all these years, Dumbledore could tell when Grindelwald was lying. He wasn't.

His tone softened. "You know I don't want Blake involved with your organization. Even if he writes to you secretly or maintains a quiet relationship—fine. But as long as it doesn't cross my bottom line, I look the other way.

"But last night... you crossed that line."

"You shouldn't have revealed your relationship to him in front of your followers!"

If Blake became publicly known as a Grindelwald, he would never escape the Party's shadow.

Where there was one spy, there were likely others. Soon, everyone would know that the rising star Blake was tied to Grindelwald.

And then… he would be pushed to the front lines.

Grindelwald's enemies—countless and vengeful—wouldn't strike at Grindelwald himself. They'd come for Blake.

Dumbledore couldn't bear the thought. He wanted Blake to have a happy, peaceful life—not one like Grindelwald's, at war with the world.

Grindelwald's sigh was quiet. "Dumbledore… do you really think our relationship can be hidden forever?"

"I accepted long ago that because Blake shares my blood, he'll never fully separate from me."

"It's because of him that I found the will to live again. How could I ever harm him?"

"I did it all for his safety. I'm transferring everything to him—gradually."

"Only when he has the power to shake the world will he be truly safe."

"You can't build lasting peace by relying on your enemies' mercy. Only on your own strength."

Dumbledore frowned. "But your Umbrella Party is not stable. Do you really believe Blake can control that kind of force?"

"Absolutely!" Grindelwald said at once.

"Why?" Dumbledore challenged.

"Because his last name is Grindelwald!" Grindelwald said with unshakable confidence.

Dumbledore's beard trembled. "Blake is Blake. You are you! Just because your followers obey you doesn't mean they'll obey him."

"You underestimate him," Grindelwald said calmly. "Even without my Umbrella Party, he could build a power of his own—equal to or greater than what I've created."

"The reason I want to give him the Party is twofold: to help him, and more importantly—to protect my old followers from being purged after I'm gone."

Dumbledore paused, touched. Grindelwald's sentiment rang true.

He remembered how the Party had been dismantled after Grindelwald's fall. Some members went into hiding. Others were imprisoned—or killed resisting arrest.

"You're already thinking about the future?" Dumbledore asked.

"Of course. We're both old men now, Dumbledore."

Grindelwald's voice was calm. "We may look strong, but in the end, it takes only one Killing Curse to bring us down."

"It's wiser to prepare."

Dumbledore squinted. "Did you see something again?"

Grindelwald's prophecies were no joke. He had predicted many events—including during World War II.

Dumbledore wondered if Grindelwald had foreseen something dire and was pushing Blake forward to brace for it.

But Grindelwald laughed. "You old goat... still so serious."

"You think I saw disaster? You're wrong. I saw nothing."

"I'm just old—and thinking like old men do. You should too. Aren't you over a hundred?"

He lifted his teacup, finally taking a sip.

"Ah... that's better."

Dumbledore exhaled slowly. No disaster, then. Good.

Still, he said, "What you did last night will cause trouble for Blake. His friends may suffer because of it."

Grindelwald snorted. "Worried about Hogwarts?"

"I'm worried about all of them!" Dumbledore snapped. "If something happens to them, Blake will blame himself forever. He's emotional, and you know it."

Grindelwald's face turned serious. He sipped his tea again, then said, "Fine. Let Blake and his friends transfer to Nurmengard. It's safe there—you know that."

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes. "So that was your endgame?"

Grindelwald put his cup down sharply. "Nonsense! Do I look like someone who schemes like that?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "Absolutely."

Grindelwald scowled. "If you can't protect him and his friends, then let me!"

"No transfers," Dumbledore said firmly. "He's safe at Hogwarts. Even if the news gets out, no one will dare act. The world knows we're enemies. Who would believe I'd let your heir into my school?"

"Let him switch schools, though—and the truth becomes undeniable."

Grindelwald conceded. "Alright… you win."

"Blake is strong. We just need to protect those around him."

"You stirred this up—don't you dare walk away from it."

Dumbledore nodded grimly. "I don't have the manpower. But you do."

Grindelwald's lip twitched. "...Fine. I'll assign guards to his friends—quietly."

He had plenty of idle followers in Nurmengard who'd jump at the task—especially if it meant helping young Grindelwald.

"Good." Dumbledore turned without another word and made for the door.

The damage was done. Now it was about fixing what could be fixed.

And besides—if anyone discovered how cordial they really were, it'd be a nightmare.

At the door, Grindelwald perked up.

"Wait! Ahem... this coat—Blake made it! Ingenious kid, don't you think?"

Dumbledore paused and looked back at the coat.

"Blake gave you that?"

"Yes! Haha, I bet you haven't got one!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "No, but I eat the food he cooks every day."

He smiled. "You wouldn't believe how good his cooking is... and actually, I think I'll go have lunch now. You enjoy admiring yourself."

With a final smirk, Dumbledore vanished through the door.

Grindelwald's smile faded. He looked down at his clothes.

Suddenly… they didn't seem quite as impressive.

On the Unnamed Island, Blake was indeed cooking when Dumbledore arrived.

The moment he saw the old wizard, his smile disappeared.

"Blake, we need to talk," Dumbledore said seriously.

"...Alright."

Blake handed the spoon to Hermione and followed him, subtly clutching the cushion he'd made overnight.

Hopefully it would soften the blows if Dumbledore decided to punish him...

They walked into the quiet woods nearby.

"You understand the impact of what happened last night?" Dumbledore asked.

"I... I do... Yesterday, I—"

Dumbledore waved him off. "No need. It wasn't your fault. That old bastard forced your hand."

"But what's done is done. You must be ready for the consequences."

Blake was surprised Dumbledore wasn't angry.

"I know... but in that moment, I couldn't back down," he admitted.

"I wanted to protect them… and give them a real chance to learn."

Dumbledore sighed and put a hand on his shoulder. "That's one thing Grindelwald was right about. You'd have to face this eventually. Better now than later."

Blake blinked in disbelief. No scolding? No disappointment?

It felt like... he'd let down someone who had tried so hard to care for him.

"You understand your choices may bring trouble to those around you," Dumbledore said quietly. "Grindelwald has agreed to protect them. He can be trusted with that."

"As for Hogwarts—leave that to me."

Blake hesitated. "So, Professor... what should I do now?"

"First," Dumbledore said, "tell your friends. They deserve to know."

"Second... do whatever you feel is right."

Blake looked up, stunned. "You mean... anything?"

"Yes. I won't restrain you anymore. But I believe in you. You won't let me down, will you?"

"No," Blake said solemnly. "I won't."

"Good," Dumbledore said, smiling. "You were cooking just now?"

"Yes."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "What's for lunch?"

Blake grinned. "I guessed you'd come, so I made your favorite—honey-roasted lamb chops and dessert."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, beaming.

Because sometimes, happiness is as simple as a warm meal made with care.

=============

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