‘What an extraordinary ability.’
Black was delighted.
The Archdruid Template had given him a powerful affinity with plants and animals.
He could even understand their attempts to communicate.
That alone offered all sorts of possibilities.
If he could speak to animals, he could much more easily tame powerful magical creatures and have them fight alongside him.
Plants were no different.
Understanding what they needed would make it far easier to cultivate difficult magical plants and herbs.
And some plants, properly nurtured, could be useful in a fight themselves.
He could also accelerate plant growth and strengthen animals.
Then there was his ability to change freely into different creatures.
Whatever form he took, he would possess all that animal’s natural abilities.
Setting aside sheer destructive power, the Archdruid Template was arguably more useful than the Ancient Magic he had received from the Supreme Chest the night before.
As Black grew accustomed to his new abilities, another possible pattern occurred to him.
From what he had seen so far, rewards from Diamond Chests and above didn’t necessarily have a direct connection to the people who produced them.
Dumbledore, for instance, didn’t seem to possess Ancient Magic.
As for the Diamond Chest…
The Exceptional Aptitude for Transfiguration from the preceding Gold Chest suggested that Hermione had written to Professor McGonagall.
Both chests had probably come from her.
McGonagall certainly wasn’t a druid.
The closest connection was that she was an Animagus who could turn into a tabby cat.
Eager to test his abilities properly, Black reached for the door handle.
Then he remembered Mrs Marian’s instructions from the previous evening.
He was grounded.
His hand withdrew.
But he was also an Archdruid.
Black made sure the door was locked and opened the window.
A short while later, a white dove slipped quietly out of his room.
Nurmengard, Austria.
After so many years, Dumbledore had returned.
If not for Black, he might never have set foot here again.
Might never have seen him again.
Given any other choice, he would not have come now.
But too much time had passed.
Barely a fraction of the old records concerning Grindelwald remained.
Dumbledore had found no way to establish what the inscription on the back of the tag meant.
G.
G.
Institute of Biological Research.
The once-imposing buildings had fallen into ruin.
On a crumbling wall, traces of faded lettering remained.
The words were incomplete, but Dumbledore remembered the sentence perfectly.
For the Greater Good.
So many years.
Of all that Nurmengard had once been, only the tower holding its final prisoner remained intact.
High within it, in a narrow stone chamber, a stooped figure huddled in a corner.
His eyes were dull.
He sat utterly still, like an ancient stone figure abandoned and forgotten.
Then came the footsteps.
He raised his head, trembling, and looked towards the narrow slit of a window high in the opposite wall.
Decades of imprisonment had left his body a poor remnant of what it had been.
The footsteps stopped beneath the window.
It was too high for him to see who stood outside.
The stone began to ripple.
Concentric rings spread across the wall he had stared at for so many years, as though its surface had become water.
An opening appeared.
It widened into a doorway.
A tall, thin figure stood beyond it, light spilling past him to fall across a floor that had not seen sunlight in decades.
Grindelwald narrowed his eyes, trying to make out the face.
The visitor stepped slowly inside.
‘So.
It’s you.’
The man before him was old now.
The brilliance and vigour of his youth had faded.
Grindelwald recognised him at once.
‘Dumbledore.
It has been a long time.’
His voice was painfully hoarse.
Dumbledore looked at the man who had once been his closest companion.
For a moment, sorrow showed in his eyes at the sight of such frailty.
Then he mastered it.
‘Grindelwald.
Yes, it has.’
‘What do you want?’
Grindelwald braced a hand against the wall and began hauling himself upright.
Their friendship had ended long ago.
Dumbledore had not come to reminisce.
‘I have a few questions.’
The effort of standing left Grindelwald short of breath. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
‘Ask.’
‘Do you have any descendants?’
Dumbledore watched his eyes.
Grindelwald went still.
Then he laughed.
The laughter grew until he could scarcely breathe.
Dumbledore waited without speaking.
At last, when Grindelwald had exhausted himself, he asked quietly, ‘What do you find so amusing?’
‘What do I find amusing?’
Grindelwald leaned heavily against the wall.
‘Surely you, of all people, ought to know whether I have any descendants.’
‘Yes.
That is precisely why I’ve come.’
Dumbledore took out the tag.
It floated from his hand and came to rest in the air before Grindelwald.
The old man’s expression changed.
For a moment, he hesitated.
Then he reached out and took it.
He recognised it.
That much was clear.
‘I met a boy recently,’ Dumbledore said.
‘A very gifted boy.’
Grindelwald studied the metal.
‘He told me his name was Black Grindelwald.’
His head snapped up.
There was unmistakable surprise in his eyes.
‘Is there something you would like to tell me?’
Grindelwald lowered his gaze again.
His finger passed gently over Black’s name.
Then he began to laugh once more.
Dumbledore waited with the same patience as before.
This time, however, Grindelwald beckoned.
‘Come here.’
Dumbledore stepped closer.
Grindelwald raised a hand beside his mouth, as though preparing to confide something.
Dumbledore instinctively bent his head.
‘I know what you want to know,’ Grindelwald whispered.
‘But I’m not going to tell you.’
His laughter filled the cell.