Newt was completely shut down by Tina and didn't dare speak again.
After that, it was all Tina, repeatedly warning Tom to stay cautious, to think carefully, and not to get involved in matters that had nothing to do with him. Tom agreed to everything without resistance.
Compared to Newt, his attitude was far better, which naturally pleased Tina.
Later, Tom simply added Nicolas Flamel and Perenelle into the chat as well. It had practically become his "guardian group." If any professors wanted to complain about him, these four would likely be the only ones they could turn to… assuming they could even find them.
Watching the group chat fill with complaints about Albus Dumbledore, and Flamel grumbling that Tom was still too young, that if he were ten years older there would be nothing to worry about… Tom couldn't help but smile.
Earlier, he had been worried that Newt Scamander might go out and unintentionally attract Grindelwald's attention. He had even considered warning Grindelwald not to provoke Newt.
But judging by how strictly Tina was managing things now, that seemed unnecessary.
...
Closing the notebook, Tom remained completely unaffected and continued with his original weekend plans.
No matter how chaotic the world became, it had little to do with him for now.
But if something happened to the young witches…
That would give him a headache.
...
At the British Ministry of Magic.
Cornelius Fudge had naturally received Babajide's warning and the invitation to the meeting.
And he was one of those ministers who simply didn't take it seriously.
Back in the day, Britain had Albus Dumbledore. The country had never directly experienced the terror of Grindelwald's Saints. On top of that, Fudge was already in his fifties, having completely missed that era.
To him, the name Gellert Grindelwald meant very little.
At most, he was just a defeated loser, beaten by Dumbledore.
Not nearly as frightening as Voldemort.
Because of this, Fudge didn't even bother informing others properly. He simply assigned Barty Crouch Sr. from the Department of International Magical Cooperation to attend the meeting in his place.
What troubled him more right now were the two escaped criminals… Lestrange and Lockhart.
"Those damn rats… where are they hiding?"
Fudge muttered under his breath. Thinking about the flood of complaint letters he had been receiving lately, he hesitated over whether to withdraw the Dementors stationed at major wizarding locations.
But after some thought, he decided to leave things as they were.
After all, those two fugitives had already escaped beyond Britain's borders.
...
Paris, Rosier Manor.
Inside the grand hall, Vinda, Vogel, and several veteran Saints stood with tears in their eyes as they looked toward the man seated at the head.
Gellert Grindelwald.
"My lord…" Vinda's voice trembled, her heart weighed down by a deep sense of inferiority.
So many years had passed, yet Grindelwald's presence remained as commanding as ever.
But she…
She was like a candle in the wind.
In terms of strength, age had dulled the sharp decisiveness she once possessed. In terms of power, neither her subordinates nor the Saints could compare to their former glory.
Grindelwald saw the guilt in her eyes and gave a faint smile.
"Vinda, you don't need to feel sorry. If anything… it is I who failed you."
He set down his glass and slowly stood, walking toward them. One by one, he placed a firm hand on each of their shoulders.
Each pat carried weight.
"I already know what you've endured all these years. Tom has told me everything. Some of you saw your families decline. Others were forced into exile. I remember it all."
"And now…"
A sharp glint flashed in his eyes.
"It is time to settle accounts."
The Saints responded with fervor, their emotions surging. Some were already itching to storm the Ministry, to let the mark of the Saints blaze across Paris once more.
Vinda asked, "What is your next plan?"
"For now, it has nothing to do with you."
Grindelwald idly rotated the ring on his finger.
"On my way here, I noticed at least two teams of enforcers watching this area. They're clearly here because of you, Vinda."
"What you need to do is follow Tom's instructions. Help him promote those alchemical tools. That is your most important task."
Then his gaze turned cold.
"Vinda… I heard that you questioned Tom's decision last night?"
Vinda immediately lowered her head, unease flooding her heart.
The other Saints didn't even dare breathe.
Grindelwald usually treated them like family, just as he himself claimed.
But when it came to principles… or defying his will…
You were no longer family.
Though some wanted to plead for Vinda, none had the courage.
"My lord… I was only too excited," Vinda said softly. "I have never neglected Master Riddle's orders. I carry them out as if they were yours. I would never disrespect him."
"And that is why you are still standing here, speaking to me."
Grindelwald let out a quiet sigh.
"Remember this. You may question my orders. You are different from the others. I trust your judgment."
"But Tom's orders…"
His voice hardened.
"You do not question them. Whatever he says, you do."
The Saints stared at him in shock.
What did that mean?
Did Riddle's authority surpass even his?
"Listen carefully."
Grindelwald's tone turned severe.
"Tom is my student. But at this moment… he is the true leader of the Saints."
"What I am about to do next… is to help him complete his plans."
His voice grew colder, heavier.
"Do not assume that my return weakens his authority. That will never happen."
"If anyone disobeys his orders…"
His words struck like hammer blows against their hearts.
"Do not blame me for acting without regard for our past ties."
"This is for your own good. Because if Tom is the one who deals with you…"
A chilling pause.
"Your entire family may not survive."
Silence fell.
Then, slowly, deliberately, Grindelwald spoke the final truth.
"Remember this."
"He is the future of the wizarding world…"
"And the only path to realizing our ideals."