Amid the uproar, Dumbledore raised a hand and gently pressed it downward. It was a simple gesture, but it seemed to carry an invisible force. The office fell silent at once.
Everyone felt the pressure and found themselves closing their mouths.
Then Dumbledore spoke. His voice was quiet, clear, and steady, each word cold and firm enough to leave no room for doubt.
"Gentlemen."
His blue eyes swept slowly across the room.
"I have come here to submit this application as a notice."
He paused, letting the word sink in.
"This is not a negotiation."
Silence filled the office. Only the crackle of wood in the fireplace and the officials' suddenly heavy breathing could be heard.
Looking into those calm eyes, with all the force held behind them, they understood more clearly than ever what lay beneath the old wizard's reputation for wisdom, gentleness, and Chocolate Frog cards: a will and power that would not easily be defied.
To be fair, Dumbledore rarely showed such an overbearing side.
But for the Raven, for this new variable that might have come from the future or another world, and for Grindelwald's terrifying prophecy about the fate of everyone alive, Albus Dumbledore was prepared to reveal a forcefulness he had long kept hidden, one capable of making the entire wizarding world take notice.
His declaration had frozen the anger and uproar in the International Confederation of Wizards' emergency affairs office as effectively as a spell.
"You…"
The senior officials were still shocked and furious, but something deeper now overlaid those feelings: apprehension born of Dumbledore's past achievements, his present standing, and the absolute authority he was displaying.
Their mouths remained open, but no further protests came.
Accuse him of madness? Suggest he had betrayed everything a light wizard stood for? Threaten to begin proceedings to remove him from office or investigate him?
The thoughts crossed their minds, then dissolved when they met his steady blue gaze.
There were few truly fearless people in the wizarding world. If courage were commonplace, wizards would hardly be so fond of celebrating it.
And everyone in that room was thoroughly intimidated.
How could they not be?
This was not merely the Headmaster of Hogwarts or a famous face on a Chocolate Frog card. Half a century earlier, when countless people had lost hope, he had stepped forward and defeated Gellert Grindelwald in a duel, leading to Grindelwald's self-imposed imprisonment.
Between the two wizarding wars, his unfathomable wisdom and power had helped hold the wizarding world together, both in Europe and beyond.
He was also Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, with an immense reputation and far-reaching political influence.
More importantly, the near-dictatorial resolve he was showing now reminded them of scattered accounts of his youth in dusty archives.
He had never been merely a kindly old man who smiled and handed out sweets.
Suddenly, everyone became reasonable.
They began to think.
They began to look for justifications.
The reason given on the application was "Top Secret."
Within the wizarding world, and particularly the International Confederation of Wizards, that classification implied an affair capable of shaking the foundations of the global magical order, or one requiring exceptional caution.
They deeply suspected that Dumbledore was abusing his authority on Grindelwald's behalf. But without evidence, no one dared accuse him outright of betrayal or of endangering the wizarding world.
Especially when he was staking his entire reputation and position on the request, and seemed to possess some terrible information they did not.
Why else would he be acting this way?
The suffocating silence lasted almost a minute. The vice-president from Northern Europe looked livid and tried several times to speak. In the end, he gave a heavy snort and turned away, tacitly conceding that he could not stop this.
The other officials exchanged glances. Finally, under Dumbledore's calm but oppressive gaze, a younger witch responsible for the paperwork picked up the application with trembling hands.
"We must still follow certain necessary… procedures."
Her voice was dry. She was trying to salvage a little dignity for the regulations.
"Even a notice must go through the required process, Professor Dumbledore. Verification of the guarantor's qualifications, a risk assessment, an emergency filing, notification of the detention facility, registration of the accompanying supervisor… And we will need the signatures of at least three serving senior Confederation officials to authorize such an… unprecedented parole arrangement."
She was frightened, but she still wanted to preserve some dignity.
As she spoke, she hurried through a thick regulations manual, pointing out the mandatory steps as though those cumbersome rules were the only protection she had left.
Dumbledore nodded without the slightest sign of impatience.
"Certainly."
His usual gentleness had returned, though the underlying firmness remained.
"Please begin. I shall wait here. If you require any additional documents or statements from me, you need only ask."
He pulled over an empty chair and sat down as comfortably as though he had come to arrange an ordinary academic exchange permit. Yet his presence alone kept an unspoken pressure on everyone in the office.
The next few hours were exhausting and chaotic, both for that office and for a substantial part of the Confederation's headquarters.
Word spread rapidly among the limited circle permitted to know, provoking fresh shock, doubt, and whispered conversations. But Dumbledore's presence, the "Top Secret" designation, and his exceptional standing kept widespread public opposition in check.
The process moved forward with a strange mixture of efficiency and resistance.
Dumbledore cooperated fully. He completed every required form and answered every necessary question clearly and concisely, while revealing nothing of substance. He repeatedly emphasized the classified nature of the affair and offered his personal reputation and position as Headmaster of Hogwarts as his ultimate guarantee.
Really, the paperwork was never going to stop him.
His qualifications as guarantor were beyond reproach. Under "Potential Risks," he wrote:
'Theoretically present, but controllable. The guarantor accepts full responsibility throughout.'
Under "Necessity of Parole," he wrote:
'Involves top-secret information that cannot be disclosed. Concerns major security interests.'
The answers said almost nothing, yet they were difficult to challenge. Who could prove that whatever secret Dumbledore possessed was unimportant?
Obtaining three senior officials' signatures was the hardest part.
In the end, Dumbledore held brief private conversations with two of them. No one else knew what was said. Both emerged pale, with complicated expressions, but agreed to sign.
Under the continued pressure of Dumbledore's presence, the vice-president from Northern Europe finally added his own signature, with obvious reluctance.
The required endorsements were secured at last.
Who knew what those two officials had been told?
By the time the final document requiring Dumbledore's signature, the "Agreement to Assume Full Responsibility", was placed before him, the tension in the office had become almost unbearable.
Under its terms, Dumbledore alone would answer for any harm Grindelwald caused during his parole, including an escape or a return to his former activities. The possible penalties ranged from removal from every public office and confiscation of his property to life imprisonment.
"Of course. No objection."
Dumbledore picked up the quill, dipped it in ink, and signed his full name with a flourish, without the slightest hesitation. The scratch of the nib against the parchment was clearly audible in the silent office.
"That completes it."
The witch handling the paperwork let out a breath, looking almost faint with relief. She gathered the thick stack of documents, covered in stamps and signatures, placed them in a specially enchanted document pouch, and handed it to Dumbledore.
"These are copies of all the authorizations and procedural records. The originals have been filed, and a highest-level security alert has been registered. Parole takes effect immediately, for a period of twenty-three hours and fifty-seven minutes. You must present these documents at the detention facility to complete the handover."
She added, in the formal tone of someone reciting a regulation, "For exceptional parole of this kind, at least two international Aurors must accompany you to the detention facility and witness the handover. Whether they remain with you afterward is at the guarantor's discretion, though we recommend…"
She did not finish.
Everyone knew how little difference it would make.
Aurors taking on the first Dark Lord? Now that would be a fantasy.
"Make the arrangements."
Dumbledore took the pouch and stood.
"Please ask them to hurry. I shall wait in the entrance hall."
Soon afterward, two international Aurors temporarily reassigned from patrol arrived in the hall. Both were experienced, stern-faced middle-aged wizards. They had evidently been briefed, and the looks they gave Dumbledore held confusion, caution, and a faint trace of awe.
They asked no further questions, merely confirming his identity and their orders.
"Professor Dumbledore, we have been instructed to accompany you to Nurmengard… that is, to the tower where Grindelwald is currently detained," one said.
"Thank you."
Dumbledore nodded without offering an explanation.
The three went to the headquarters' designated Floo connection point. For security reasons, the tower had no permanent connection to the Floo Network. A temporary route required special authorization and a fixed destination.
After another short wait, the connection was established with remarkable efficiency. Dumbledore and the Aurors disappeared into green flames.
They emerged not inside the tower, but on a barren rock platform outside, protected by powerful enchantments. Night had fully fallen. Far from any settlement, the only sound was the cold mountain wind whipping at their robes.
Ahead, the ancient stone tower stood on the clifftop, its jagged silhouette outlined by moonlight, like a great beast lying still.
"That's the first Dark Lord in there."
The two Aurors instinctively tightened their grips on their wands and scanned their surroundings.
Dumbledore remained calm. Holding the thick document pouch, he led the way toward the massive black iron door at the foot of the tower, its surface covered in sealing runes.
Before they reached it, the door slowly swung inward with a deep rumble that seemed to rise from underground. Beyond it was not darkness, but the tower's distinctive crystal glow, cool as moonlight.
A figure was already waiting where light met shadow.
Gellert Grindelwald.
He had clearly prepared for the occasion. The plain dark gray cloak was gone, replaced by black wizarding robes. They were slightly old, but well tailored and made from fine fabric, with delicate dark silver embroidery at the collar and cuffs, a lingering touch of his former luxury.
"Welcome."
His pale hair had been neatly combed. The light from outside deepened the lines on his face, but his mismatched eyes shone brightly against the dim interior as he regarded the three visitors, particularly Dumbledore at their head.
He wore no shackles. His bearing was composed, with a trace of the authority he had once possessed. He looked less like a prisoner about to be granted a brief release than a ruler preparing to inspect his lands.
He was worlds apart from a terrorist like Voldemort.
Both Aurors were momentarily taken aback.
That did nothing to ease their nerves. Their breathing quickened, and their wands rose halfway. They knew the procedure, but facing this legendary figure in person still put them on edge.
"It's done."
Dumbledore stopped and met Grindelwald's eyes. Their brief exchange of glances in the cold night wind seemed to convey a great deal without a word.
Then Dumbledore stepped forward and held out the document pouch to someone beside Grindelwald. A wizard in a dark blue uniform had appeared there without a sound, his face expressionless. He was evidently one of the tower's resident wardens.
His loyalties might have been questionable, but for now, he represented the official handover process.
He took the pouch and checked every seal, signature, and magical mark quickly but thoroughly. The inspection was silent and efficient.
Once satisfied, he bowed slightly to Grindelwald. Both Aurors frowned, but the warden paid them no attention. He turned to Dumbledore and spoke in a flat voice.
"The documents are valid. Handover confirmed. Prisoner number 001, Gellert Grindelwald, is placed on temporary parole effective immediately, until this time tomorrow. Supervisory responsibility has been transferred to the guarantor."
He offered a handover form and a pen.
"Please sign to acknowledge receipt."
Dumbledore signed at once.
The process was complete.
"Very good."
The warden stepped back into the tower's shadows, disappearing as though he had never been there.
And in that little-known place, the first Dark Lord was released.
Only temporarily.
But even that was enough to send shock waves through the wizarding world.
(End Of This Chapter)
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