Bloody hell.
The highest tier, just like that?
Black was inwardly delighted.
His face, however, remained a picture of innocence.
He gave no sign that he understood what his surname meant to Dumbledore.
Revealing it had been a calculated decision.
Hogwarts had the Book of Admittance.
Whenever a young witch or wizard displayed sufficient magic, the Quill of Acceptance recorded their name in its pages.
His name would already be there.
When his birthday came and Professor McGonagall sent his letter, she would see that rather notorious surname.
Naturally, she would tell Dumbledore.
He was going to find out sooner or later.
Why not tell him now and earn a chest in the process?
Clearly, Black had made the right choice.
A Supreme Chest lay in his system’s storage space, shining brilliantly.
He was desperate to open it.
But this wasn’t the moment.
Dumbledore took several slow breaths before he regained something approaching composure.
‘You said you were an orphan?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then how do you know your surname?
Has someone… told you anything?’
His gaze sharpened.
‘No.
Actually, until today, I thought my name was Black Grin.’
Black brought out the tag again.
This time, he slipped it off his neck and handed it over.
He wanted to know what had happened to it, too.
‘I’ve always had this.
Mrs Marian used it to name me.
But some of the letters were missing.
All you could read was “Black Grin”.’
He pointed to the inscription.
‘Then today, somehow, it repaired itself.
Now it says “Black Grindelwald”.
So I suppose that must be my name.’
Hermione nodded beside him.
It was the same explanation he had given her earlier.
Black wasn’t concerned about whether Dumbledore believed him.
Mrs Marian had seen the tag.
She knew the inscription had been incomplete.
He only had to ask her.
Dumbledore raised the tag close to his eyes and examined it in silence.
His crooked nose almost touched the metal.
At last, he looked up and handed it back. Find the original chapter at g.com.
‘Someone scratched out the remaining letters, then placed a small enchantment on it.
It could only be activated when your magic reached a certain strength.
Once that happened, it triggered a Mending Charm.’
So that was it.
No wonder Black’s attempts to repair the tag had failed.
Someone had deliberately enchanted it to resist them.
He considered the implications.
Presumably, whoever had done it expected him to discover his full name when he grew up.
Under ordinary circumstances, he would probably have needed an adult’s magical reserves to activate the enchantment.
Someone had wanted him to remain unaware of his true surname until then.
The Starter Pack had upset that plan.
His sudden increase in power had triggered the enchantment early, restoring the inscription and revealing his name ahead of schedule.
Dumbledore appeared to have reached a similar conclusion.
‘Did you experience another burst of accidental magic just now?’
He paused.
‘Forgive me.
That may not mean much to you.
When you were fighting the Hidebehind, did your ability suddenly seem stronger than before?’
Accidental magic didn’t happen only once in a young wizard’s life.
Harry Potter, for instance, had once found himself on a school roof while fleeing Dudley.
Such outbursts often occurred when a child was in danger.
Black nodded at once.
He could hardly explain the Starter Pack.
Dumbledore had offered a perfectly plausible alternative, and Black was happy to accept it.
Dumbledore nodded in return.
That made sense.
Attacked by a Hidebehind and in grave danger, the boy had experienced a temporary surge of magic.
It had strengthened his Transfiguration and activated the enchantment on the tag.
He looked at Black again.
Even briefly reaching an adult wizard’s level of power through accidental magic suggested extraordinary talent.
But when had Gellert had a descendant?
And how had he known nothing about it?
His feelings became difficult to untangle.
Before hearing the surname, Dumbledore hadn’t noticed anything particular about the boy’s appearance.
Now he studied him properly.
There was a definite resemblance about the eyes and brows.
He could see Gellert in that face.
Yet that wasn’t all.
There was something of himself there, too.
The shape of the eyes recalled Grindelwald, but their vivid blue was precisely the colour of his own.
It was almost as though the boy combined the two of them.
Could it be…?
Absurd, surely.
And yet, if it were true, Fawkes’s behaviour made sense.
When a member of the Dumbledore family was in peril, a phoenix would come to their aid.
Black had been discreetly watching the old man’s face.
His expression had become remarkably complicated.
He looked as though he had been confronted with something he scarcely knew how to begin dealing with.
‘Professor?
Do you know the name Grindelwald?’
Black spoke tentatively.
‘You seemed rather surprised when I said it.
If you recognise it, does that mean you know my family?’
It was a natural question.
Dumbledore would have been more concerned if the boy hadn’t noticed his reaction.
Of course an orphan would be curious about his origins.
‘Yes,’ he said.
‘I know the name.
And I know someone who bears it.’
He hesitated.
‘But I can’t tell you very much just yet.
There is something I must confirm first.’
He wasn’t ready to explain the history attached to that surname.
‘All right.
But once you’ve checked, will you tell me about it?’
Dumbledore was silent for a time.
Then he sighed.
‘Once I have established the truth, I will answer your questions honestly.’
He had not wanted to tell Black about Grindelwald.
But however many years had passed, there were still plenty of people who knew that story.
How could he hope to keep it from the boy?
If Dumbledore said nothing, Black would eventually find the answers elsewhere.
Better, then, to tell him himself.
‘Fawkes.’
The phoenix gave Black a sweet, clear call, almost as though saying goodbye, then flew back to Dumbledore’s hand.
Dumbledore plucked a leaf from an overhanging branch.
In his fingers, it became a blank slip of paper.
By the time Fawkes took it in his beak, Black noticed that a line of looping handwriting had appeared across it.
The phoenix vanished in a flash of fire.
‘It’s getting late.
I think I had better see you both home.’
Dumbledore glanced around the clearing.
‘I’ve sent for someone to deal with things here.