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Generally speaking, a Dark Lord was like a rampaging juggernaut. He went wherever he pleased.
However, there were always exceptions, such as this brave stone statue. If it didn't want someone entering the headmaster's office, then even a Dark Lord wasn't getting in.
Especially after Ravenclaw explained some of the arrangements left behind by the founders, Grindelwald finally understood something. The strongest presence in this castle wasn't Dumbledore. It was this ugly stone gatekeeper that Tom had somehow sweet-talked into submission.
Of course, for the gargoyle to unleash that kind of power required extremely harsh conditions and an equally steep price.
"The password is… Pepper Imp?"
Dumbledore's voice came from behind the statue. Upon hearing the password, the gargoyle hopped aside and cleared the way. Grindelwald studied it for a moment longer before stepping into the opening and riding the spiral staircase up into the headmaster's office.
When Dumbledore saw him, a sharp glint flashed through his calm eyes.
Something was different.
He couldn't quite say what, but Grindelwald no longer felt like a Dark Wizard. He seemed more like an unconventional scholar.
"You killed quite a few people again," Dumbledore said.
Suppressing his curiosity, he chose to strike first, just as he'd planned.
Grindelwald shook his head. "Some people are begging for death. What am I supposed to do? Keep them around for Christmas dinner?"
"You see, that's exactly the problem with ambitious schemers," he went on. "Things were already stable, but they just had to stir up trouble. If they don't value their own lives, why should I?"
"Gellert, I know your methods," Dumbledore said, his tone edging toward a warning. "I hope you won't start punishing entire families again like you did in the past. How many witches and wizards do you think the world can afford to lose? Don't forget your ideals. Those people are your compatriots too."
"Relax," Grindelwald replied with a grin. "I held back this time. Only thirteen people died. A very lucky number, don't you think?"
In Christianity, thirteen was unlucky. In the wizarding world, though, it was considered auspicious.
Dumbledore didn't comment, but his attitude softened slightly. "So why are you here?"
"Oh, nothing much," Grindelwald said casually. "I suddenly feel like teaching. How about letting me give the students a lesson?"
"What subject?"
"Muggle Studies."
..
"Look at these legs. Don't you want to touch them?"
"And this butt. Come on, give it a wiggle."
"And this belly… honestly, you just can't put it down."
In the Forbidden Forest, Tom was on a video call with a researcher from the Eastern Magical Beasts Care Center. More accurately, Pearl and Daisy (the Pandas) were the ones on camera. Tom rested a hand on Pearl's belly and gave it a gentle bounce, sending a wave of jiggling fat rippling across it.
One of the conditions of "adopting"… no, looking after Pearl and Daisy was that he had to stay in regular contact and record their physical condition.
Fleur watched Tom spout utter nonsense with a perfectly serious expression, biting back her laughter the whole time.
She genuinely couldn't understand how a perfectly normal explanation always turned indecent once it passed through Tom's mouth.
"Good, good."
On the other end of the call, the elderly researcher nodded repeatedly, smiling without pause. He could tell at a glance how well the Pandas were being raised.
Pearl and Daisy were in perfect condition. Almost too perfect.
Translated into plain language, they were too round. Way too fat.
Just how good did their meals have to be to raise Giant Panda into massive balls?
The researcher had no idea that Tom's leftover supplements for Fawkes had all been gobbled up by Pearl and Daisy. Of course they were gaining weight, the stuff was literally designed to do that.
Fortunately, the panda magical beasts wasted nothing they ate and never developed obesity-related illnesses, so Tom fed them without worry.
"Mr. Riddle, if you have time, you're welcome to visit the care center," the researcher said warmly. "We have plenty of Pandas there. We could exchange experiences."
He was Newt's friend, and a close one at that. Otherwise, there was no way Pearl and Daisy would've been entrusted to Tom.
"I'll definitely come if I get the chance," Tom replied with a smile. After a bit more casual chatting, they ended the call.
"Come on, Fleur. Let's take the pandas for a walk, then I'll head back."
Tom took Fleur's hand, with two chubby furballs waddling along behind them.
A gentle breeze stirred. Golden light from the setting sun filtered through the patchy canopy, scattering across the forest floor.
Feeling playful, the two of them deliberately stepped on the spots of light, their pace quickening and slowing at random.
The Pandas followed faithfully, step by step, until they suddenly stopped, bumped straight into each other, and rolled right up in front of them. Fleur burst out laughing and leaned against the boy's shoulder.
But happy moments never lasted long. As the sun dipped below the horizon, Tom put Pearl and Daisy away and walked Fleur back to the castle.
Fleur stayed behind to eat at school. Tom, meanwhile, still had to accompany Daphne back to London for her favorite lamb chops. Since today was all about soothing an explosive young lady, he couldn't bring his "sister-in-law" along. Astoria puffed up in annoyance, secretly wondering if she should throw a tantrum of her own sometime so Tom would coax her too.
Tom realized he'd practically turned Hogwarts into a day school. He'd barely stayed in the dorms lately, and his roommates were already used to it.
Tsk. Slytherin really was great. If he were in Gryffindor, his roommates would probably be snitching on him nonstop, and McGonagall would keep him on a tight leash. Snape, by comparison, was much easier to deal with.
While Tom and Daphne were enjoying a candlelit dinner, Dumbledore finally gave in to Grindelwald and allowed him to give a public lecture. And of all things, it was going to be Muggle Studies.
Refusing was pointless. No one knew what had gotten into Grindelwald, but he was dead set on teaching a class. Even if Dumbledore said no, he'd just force his way in during dinner and start lecturing anyway.
There weren't many people in the world who could calmly keep eating while Grindelwald spoke. Warriors like Jacob Kowalski were once-in-a-century exceptions.
That was why Dumbledore was so conflicted. Unless he dared to ban everyone from the Great Hall and make them hide in their common rooms after class, there was no stopping Grindelwald once he made up his mind.
At least it was a school-wide public lecture. If Grindelwald said anything truly outrageous, Dumbledore could intervene at any time.
"Great," Grindelwald said cheerfully before leaving. "Albus, you can think of this lesson as a debate. It's time the students saw what the real world looks like."
Watching him walk out of the office, Dumbledore pondered his true intentions.
Was he trying to indoctrinate the students?
That seemed unlikely. Doing it right in front of him would be far too obvious.
But it was undoubtedly tied to Grindelwald's ideals. It was a crisis, yes, but also an opportunity. If Dumbledore openly refuted his arguments, the impact wouldn't stop with Hogwarts. Once the news spread, it could influence the many followers in other countries who didn't know the full truth.
---
The next morning, after Tom returned to Hogwarts with Daphne, Dumbledore announced that Grindelwald would be giving a public lecture after that evening's banquet.
"Grindelwald is teaching us?" Ron stared in shock at Grindelwald, who had stood up and was smiling as he waved at the students. "What's he going to teach us? How to get ourselves sent to Azkaban?"
"No." Seamus Finnigan shook his head. "It's probably something to do with Dark Magic. I heard Durmstrang lets students learn it. You saw it during the tournament."
"A whole school of Dark Wizards," someone muttered under their breath, careful not to let the high table hear.
Most people thought the same. In their minds, a Dark Lord and Dark Magic were inseparable. What they couldn't understand was why the school had agreed to Grindelwald's request.
It wasn't just the students. Even the professors were baffled. Professor McGonagall, in particular, looked like she could crush a fly between her brows. Dumbledore hadn't consulted her beforehand, and after the announcement, the two of them spoke in the office for a long time. When McGonagall finally emerged, she looked deeply worried.
With the morning announcement hanging over them, no one could focus in class. During Charms, even while practicing the Vanishing Spell, students kept whispering about it. Professor Flitwick eventually had to set off several dazzling fireworks and loud bangs to drag their attention back to the lesson.
"Old G, what are you plotting now?"
Even Tom had no idea what Grindelwald was planning and asked out of pure curiosity in the study space.
"Patience. You'll find out soon enough."
Grindelwald played it mysterious and said they'd find out that evening. Tom curled his lip, then used the excuse of helping him adjust to his current strength to thoroughly beat the old man up.
---
At last, night fell
After classes ended, nearly every student followed the same route. First back to their common rooms to drop off their bags, then straight to the Great Hall to wait for dinner.
That evening, everyone ate far faster than usual. By six thirty, only scraps and cold leftovers remained on the plates.
"Students, please proceed to the entrance hall and wait patiently. The Great Hall needs some adjustments."
With a wave of Dumbledore's hand, the tables vanished, leaving the hall empty. Hearing this, the students obediently filed out.
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