Nurmengard, Austria.
A towering fortress rose against the bleak landscape, a place of darkness and dread. Above its entrance, a single motto had been carved into the stone:
For the Greater Good.
The wizarding prison had stood abandoned for half a century. Now, it held only one prisoner, Gellert Grindelwald, the first Dark Lord.
The legendary wizard who had once plunged all of Europe into bloodshed now resembled a man nearing the end of his life. His hair was thin, his body frail, and he looked as though a strong gust of wind might knock him over.
He was imprisoned in a room at the very top of the tower. It contained nothing but a stone bed and a tattered blanket. Even the window was little more than a narrow slit cut into the black stone.
Just as he was preparing to sleep, he suddenly sensed something.
His mismatched blue and gold eyes lit up sharply, and his gaze seemed to pierce the walls as he stared toward the storm-darkened sky outside.
Thunder rumbled.
A flash of lightning shone through the narrow opening, briefly illuminating the darkness of the room.
Grindelwald’s body suddenly began to tremble violently as unknown images surfaced within his eyes.
Drip. Drip.
Blood flowed from his eyes and nostrils, falling onto the hard, freezing floor.
After an unknown amount of time, he slowly raised his head. An indescribable excitement had appeared on his previously numb face.
"The Fool... Hogwarts.
The future has changed. Everything is different now."
Grindelwald rose to his feet, as though new life had been breathed into his frail body.
His appearance had barely changed, yet his entire presence was different. The air of lifelessness surrounding him had vanished.
"Gurch."
Pop!
With a muffled sound, an elderly house-elf appeared inside the room.
"Master, you called for Gurch?"
"Paper and a quill. I need to write a letter."
"A letter?" Gurch’s voice began to tremble. "Master, have you forgotten? None of the letters you send to him can leave this place.
You can only reply after one of his letters arrives."
Grindelwald sighed.
He had forgotten how long it had been since he had last written a letter.
"Never mind. Bring me my wand."
"Master, have you finally decided to leave?" Gurch became so excited that his words tumbled over one another. "This is wonderful! Gurch always knew this prison could never hold you!"
"No. Not yet," Grindelwald replied.
It was as though cold water had been poured over the house-elf’s excitement. He quickly calmed down.
Gurch bowed to Grindelwald before disappearing from the room.
Several seconds later, he returned and handed Grindelwald a black wand.
Grindelwald took it.
An extraordinarily powerful surge of magic erupted from his frail body, blasting the entire wall apart.
Shattered stones fell from high above.
Grindelwald spread his arms and allowed the fierce wind and rain outside to lash against his body.
"Master." Gurch looked at him anxiously. "This is not good for your health. You should return to the manor and rest. It is much warmer there."
"I told you, not yet."
Grindelwald lightly waved his wand, and the shattered wall rapidly repaired itself.
He then tossed the wand back to Gurch.
"You may leave. He will be here shortly."
"Yes, Master."
Sure enough, not long after Gurch departed, another elderly figure arrived at Nurmengard.
Dumbledore wore a travelling cloak, and droplets of rain clung to his long silver hair and beard.
The wall parted on its own, forming an archway.
He walked straight inside and stopped before Grindelwald.
"It has been decades since we last saw each other, Dumbledore," Grindelwald said hoarsely, though a trace of inexplicable relief lay beneath his voice.
"I thought you were dead when I sensed that the prison had been damaged."
"Were you disappointed?"
"No. I am relieved that you are still alive.
Then again, there is no one in this world capable of killing you."
Dumbledore spoke casually, but he understood Grindelwald’s abilities better than almost anyone. This prison had never truly been capable of holding him.
Grindelwald had remained in this cell for decades partly as a form of self-punishment, but even more because he had accepted the outcome of their duel.
"Tell me. What was so urgent that you had to summon me in this manner?"
Dumbledore did not waste time on pleasantries.
He and Grindelwald had parted ways decades ago. Although they had remained in contact, reminiscing about the past was best avoided.
If he allowed himself to feel sympathy for Grindelwald, he was not certain he could keep his emotions under control.
The consequences would be far more terrifying than anything Voldemort could cause.
Compared with the first Dark Lord, the second was little more than an inexperienced recruit.
"I saw a new future."
Dumbledore’s expression immediately became serious.
"What kind of future?"
"A person. Someone capable of standing alongside Merlin, perhaps even surpassing him. Someone who could influence the entire wizarding world, perhaps even the course of the whole world."
Grindelwald gave him a meaningful smile.
"Perhaps he will succeed in realizing the dream we once failed to achieve."
"Then that would be truly terrifying."
Grindelwald burst into laughter and nearly lost his breath.
"Dumbledore, after all these years, you still insist on worrying about disasters that have not yet happened."
"Gellert, I am not joking."
"Very well, very well."
Grindelwald coughed twice.
"Then you should guide him. Let us hope that, one day, he becomes the kind of person you want him to be.
However, Dumbledore, your record as a teacher is hardly reassuring. The future may not unfold as you wish."
"A student?"
Dumbledore immediately caught the crucial point.
"You mean he will become one of my students?"
"It is merely a possibility."
Dumbledore fell silent for a moment.
"What exactly did you see?"
"A figure shrouded in dense mist.
High above all others, detached from the world, calmly observing the world in which we live."
"You know that is not what I was asking."
"Of course I do, but look."
Grindelwald brushed aside the white hair covering his forehead, revealing the eye beneath it.
Dumbledore could not help drawing in a sharp breath.
The white of that eye was almost completely flooded with blood, while more than a third of its golden iris had turned a lifeless gray-white.
"I wanted to know who he was as well, but my eye could not see through the mist.
He merely glanced at me, and I nearly went blind."
Dumbledore’s heart grew heavier.
He had lived for more than a century and believed that little could disturb his composure, yet reality had struck him a heavy blow.
He knew Grindelwald’s strength better than anyone.
There were very few people in the entire wizarding world capable of matching him.
Yet a single glance cast across time had forced him back. Even taking Grindelwald’s weakened condition into account, it revealed just how serious the situation was.
The wizarding world was about to witness the rise of another genius seen only once in a century, perhaps even once in a millennium.
With the right guidance, such a person could become a blessing to the entire world.
With the wrong guidance, he could become a catastrophe unlike anything the world had ever known.
"Were there any other clues?"
"He was watching Hogwarts.
And he is the Fool.
Do not ask me what ’the Fool’ means. All I felt was an instinctive sense of reverence."
"I understand.
I failed to properly guide the last once-in-a-century genius, and he became Voldemort.
I will not make the same mistake this time."
"If you need my assistance, simply write me a letter," Grindelwald said teasingly. "I may have no experience educating students, but at least I would not turn him into a deranged murderer."
"That will not be necessary."
Dumbledore turned and walked away.
After he stepped outside, the archway slowly closed, once again becoming a solid stone wall.
(To be continued.)