Dumbledore pressed a hand to his forehead and said with a sigh that didn't quite match his words, "I must say, you two are...far more surprising than I expected."
"I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore," Audrey quickly apologized. "If I hadn't asked Edward to take me there, none of this would've happened."
"No, no," Dumbledore waved his hand, "Miss Hall, I've seen far worse in my lifetime. Besides, no one discovered your identities or remembered your faces."
"I'm just amazed. Young people these days are far more capable than we were. Hmm, even Voldemort, at your age, had only gathered a handful of students at school and started a small group."
He shook his head at that and suddenly changed the subject.
"Professor Umbridge has recovered."
Edward immediately said, "That's wonderful news. I'll make sure to visit her soon."
"She said she's determined to have you sent to Azkaban."
"Excellent. I hear it's full of the most legendary witches and wizards. Being with them, I'll surely learn a great deal."
Dumbledore was silent for a few seconds, then pushed the newspaper toward him. "Is that really what you think? Perhaps I could arrange that for you—send you to Azkaban for a bit of...further study."
"Uh…"
Dumbledore sighed helplessly.
"All right. I'll send you to the place you should be instead. In fact, for many, it's far more dangerous than Azkaban."
"Nurmengard?" Audrey's eyes lit up. "Is that...is that the place where the Dark Lord is held? The one who had a...um...special relationship with Professor Dumbledore…"
Dumbledore nodded, his tone calm. "Miss Hall, you may say the word plainly."
"…Lover."
He smiled. "Once, yes."
"Well then, ladies and gentlemen, get ready to depart."
At that moment, Audrey raised her hand. "Sorry, Edward, Professor Dumbledore."
"You both know I just went through a thrilling, nerve-wracking adventure. Right now, I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts and rest. You know how it is, Edward. Once I go home, I'll be stuck there again. And…" Her voice turned mysteriously playful, "And, there's something else I want to do."
"Is it that thing you asked Malfoy to handle?"
"Exactly!"
She tiptoed to pat Edward on the head and grinned. "Do your best, okay~"
———
[Austrian Alps—Nurmengard]
The first breath of cold air Edward inhaled felt like it stabbed straight through his throat and into his heart. He hurriedly changed into a thick winter coat, tucking Lilith inside, with only her two blue eyes peeking out, curiously surveying their surroundings.
Led by Dumbledore through the howling winds, they stepped into the towering structure built on a mountaintop. One after the other, they climbed the spiraling stairs and reached the top floor—a dimly lit room.
The interior was simple: a single bed, a rocking chair, a table, several wardrobes, and...a television and a DVD player?
To Edward's surprise, this former Dark Lord seemed more up-to-date with Muggle technology than most modern wizards.
A white-haired old man in ragged clothes stood at the window, gazing out at the distant mountains. His entire being radiated an air of twilight and decline—he bore no resemblance to the fearsome Dark Lord who once plunged the entire wizarding world into chaos just a few decades ago.
He smiled faintly, then opened his mouth and said something that stunned Edward to the core:
"We meet again, little one. Heh, the last time I saw you, you were still an Obscurial."
I was...an Obscurial?
Obscurials—or Obscurus—were magical entities formed when children with magical abilities suppressed their powers due to trauma or fear, resulting in uncontrollable bursts of magic. Weren't they supposed to be unstable, chaotic, mad, filled with negative emotions, and short-lived?
How could I be one?
Though the thought puzzled him, Edward wasn't too shocked—after all, it must've happened before he transmigrated. Without the memory, he felt no real emotional connection to the experience.
Grindelwald looked at Dumbledore. "You never told him?"
"If he's forgotten, then let the memories stay lost. He's a normal wizard now."
"Hahaha, a 'normal wizard' who was once an Obscurial?" Grindelwald burst out laughing. "I must say, your Dumbledore family has quite the affinity with Obscurials."
That sentence pulled Edward back to attention. His gaze flicked rapidly between the two elderly men, and after a moment's hesitation, he asked, "So...I really am part of the Dumbledore family?"
"Of course."
"I'm not sure."
They spoke at the same time. After exchanging glances, Grindelwald said firmly, "I'm certain you carry the blood of the Dumbledore family...though your surname might not be Dumbledore."
Dumbledore, however, seemed uncertain. Adjusting his half-moon spectacles, he said, "Apologies. As far as I know, there are no surviving descendants of the Dumbledore line. But Gellert insists otherwise…" He spread his hands, "And he refuses to explain why he's so certain."
Edward stroked his chin, hesitating for a long while before cautiously asking,
"So...am I...your child?"
"..."
Smack! Smack!
"OW!"
After interrogating (Or trying to) both the Black and White Dark Lords, Edward finally learned the truth of his 'origins' from Grindelwald.
Sixteen years ago, when Grindelwald first laid eyes on him, he had been a wailing infant. And clearly, a place like Nurmengard was no place for a baby. So, Grindelwald reached out to his old followers and had the child sent to an orphanage.
Ten years later—six years ago from now—Grindelwald encountered 'him' again. By then, he was already an Obscurus, a living husk of a boy. He had become a fool who could do nothing beyond eating, drinking, sleeping, and relieving himself.
Having once been involved with an Obscurus—especially one from the Dumbledore family (Grindelwald insisted Edward belonged to them)—he tried to cultivate Edward, hoping to raise him into a special Obscurus like Credence.
But he failed.
After nearly half a year of effort, the boy remained just as dull-witted. Grindelwald lost interest and sent him back to the orphanage.
Three years later—at the precise time when Edward transmigrated into this world—he 'recovered' his faculties and received his Hogwarts acceptance letter.
When Grindelwald heard the news, he immediately contacted Dumbledore and truthfully informed him about Edward's condition. As expected, Dumbledore became very intrigued. He even went to the orphanage personally and brought Edward to Hogwarts.
And that, was why Dumbledore had always paid Edward special attention.
"But…why are you so sure I have Dumbledore blood in me?"
To this, Grindelwald replied calmly, "Do you think I'd tell you something I kept secret even from Albus? But…" His tone softened, "I can say this much—it's not that I enjoy playing riddles, it's just that I promised someone I'd keep the secret."
"That person…is related to my origins?"
Grindelwald nodded.
Dumbledore didn't stay long. Perhaps due to Edward's presence, the two "old friends" didn't exchange much conversation. Grindelwald quickly slipped into his role as a teacher, as if eager to cram Edward with everything he could and send him off.
Over the course of one night, under the high-intensity crash course of the previous Dark Lord, Edward managed to grasp the advanced portion of Fiendfyre control and how to cast Incedio Draconis.
Caught in a wave of inspiration, Grindelwald even threw in Dumbledore's signature spell—like a high school physics teacher who, after finishing one test paper, excitedly starts going over the math one too.
For a student eager to learn, this kind of teacher was a godsend. But the only issue was—Grindelwald didn't just teach magic by explanation or demonstration.
He fought it into you.
All night long, Edward narrowly escaped multiple fatal Dark curses. Even his ever-present pouch was nearly destroyed.
———
Breakfast at Nurmengard was simple: two boiled eggs and a cup of black coffee.
Lilith gave the coffee a curious lick, then immediately recoiled, shook her little head vigorously, and leapt off the table—hopping over to sit in front of the TV and intently watch Tom and Jerry.
Halfway through his coffee, Grindelwald's class resumed.
"How do you think one should learn wandless magic?"
Edward cradled the warm mug in both hands and thought for a moment.
"Uh…practice makes perfect?"
"Have you mastered any spell that you can cast both wandlessly and wordlessly?"
"Accio and Depulso."
"How did you manage that?"
Edward paused.
Back when he mastered the Undetectable Extension Charm, he realized that while it created storage space like the spatial rings in many novels, retrieving and storing items was a hassle.
So, he had the idea to use Accio and Depulso. At first, he needed to say the incantation and wave his wand. Eventually, he stopped needing the chant. And about six months ago, he no longer needed the wand either.
"I guess I just used them a lot…and eventually got the hang of it. Yeah, practice makes perfect."
Grindelwald nodded.
"Exactly. Silent casting is relatively easy. But wandless magic? That requires repeated, dedicated practice with a single spell—until your body and mind internalize it. That's how I did it, how Albus did it…even Merlin."
"But wandless casting usually applies to individual spells only. It's not like learning a certain technique lets you cast all magic wandlessly."
"Albus probably mentioned his 'evolution/devolution theory' to you. Wizards use wands because they help us channel magic more easily. But over time, we've also grown dependent on them. That's because a wizard's magic is inherently chaotic—disordered, uncontrollable."
"Even Albus and I can't fully control our magic. So we never aimed to completely master wandless casting. It would require endless training—and even then, the result might be inferior to wand casting."
"Of course, there are alternatives. You could try the Egyptian wandless gesture casting style—but the casting time is longer."
"Professor Dumbledore mentioned that too," Edward nodded, but frowned.
"But if that's the case…why would he send me here to learn from you?"
Grindelwald's lips curled into a grin. A flicker of madness glinted in his cloudy eyes.
"Because I had a theory—since wizards are bound to their wands, and wands are a vulnerability…then what if the wand was embedded into the wizard's body?"
"For instance…"
He extended a bony arm.
"What if we crafted a wand using a wizard's entire wrist bone? Wouldn't that be the best of both worlds?"
Edward was horrified.
Good god—most people just wanted to refine wands, and here you are going straight to alchemy with human bodies?
Truly worthy of the title Dark Lord.
"Did you…succeed?"
"I failed."
Grindelwald lowered his arm, tone flat again.
"My wrist bones—truthfully, all my bones—are just ordinary bone, devoid of magical properties. Completely unfit to be made into a wand."
All your bones?
Are you a Dark Lord or a mad scientist?
"But you, you're different!"
"???"
"You were once an Obscurus—a naturally born magical creature capable of unleashing tremendous power."
At that, he paused, eyes briefly shadowed by a trace of wistful memory.
"I once met a different kind of Obscurus too, but…back then, my heart was occupied by other matters."
Edward understood. He was speaking of Credence—Aberforth Dumbledore's son—who had died in the battle between the two Dark Lords decades ago.
"Even if you seem normal now, I believe you're still fundamentally different from other wizards. Your body must retain certain Obscurus traits. If we can make use of them, wandless casting might be the least of what you'll achieve. You might awaken powers far beyond any wizard!"
Well, that sounded beautiful, but the method was terrifying.
"So…what exactly do you want to do?"
"Give me one of your wrist bones."
He said it so casually. Like asking for a spoon.
"Don't worry, just one Ossio spell and a vial of Skele-Gro. If you're scared of pain, a Stunning Spell works wonders."
"I...can I think about it?"
Grindelwald gave him a sideways glance.
"I heard you're talented in Transfiguration. Want to know how to use it on yourself—change your face and body at will?"
Edward clenched his jaw.
"…Let's do it."
———
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