"With Dumbledore there to hold the line, if it were me, I wouldn't be worried either."
The group of European Ministers for Magic who had been chatting idly all fell silent at once, a shared bitterness rising in their hearts.
They envied Fudge.
Even in ordinary times, Dumbledore had already brought untold prestige to a declining Britain. And now, in this special period, Dumbledore's presence was like an unshakable reef standing firm in the sea. No matter how great the storm, it could not bring him down.
Barty Crouch was fluent in over a hundred languages, so he naturally heard their discussion as well. Yet his expression did not change in the slightest. He did not care what these people said. Instead, he was thinking about a different matter.
Unlike an idiot like Fudge, his understanding of Grindelwald ran very deep.
Though Grindelwald had never been called the Dark Lord, the things he had done, and the influence he had wielded, far surpassed that self-proclaimed Dark Lord. Even Crouch himself had once been shaken by Grindelwald's ideals and felt the impulse to follow him.
And his son, Barty Crouch Junior, was a fanatical follower of the Dark Lord. Even after Crouch had secretly swapped him out of Azkaban and brought him back, the boy still refused to repent.
If he had to choose between the two Dark Lords, Crouch would rather that Barty Junior had followed Grindelwald. At least Grindelwald's followers could still be counted as normal people, unlike the Death Eaters, who were utterly deranged and found joy only in slaughtering and torturing Muggles and half-blood wizards.
The problem troubling Crouch now was how to make contact with Grindelwald, and how to persuade him to spend the effort to reform Barty Junior.
By the time Crouch had furrowed his brow and thought through all this, it was already time for the meeting to begin. The curtain in front of him flickered to life, displaying a live image of the conference room.
He looked toward a seat at the edge of the chamber near the exit, and a faint smile appeared on his face.
Newt and Tina were sitting there.
They looked completely out of place among the cluster of senior Ministry officials around them.
The two of them had been specially invited by Babajide to attend. Both had extensive experience in fighting Grindelwald and might be able to offer useful help.
Even Tina had not tried to stop Newt from coming. On the contrary, she had agreed at once.
There was simply too much bad blood between them and Grindelwald. Even if they wanted to avoid him now, they could not. Since vengeance might come for them sooner or later, it was better to strike first.
...
The meeting began.
Austria's Minister for Magic stepped onto the platform and repeated the situation once more.
"We must admit that even after all these decades, he remains a dark wizard of unbelievable power."
"From the memories of the guards, it can be confirmed that he cast Fiendfyre without a wand, and even controlled the flames with ease so that they did not harm the guards while destroying the tower of Nurmengard. Is there anyone in your countries who can accomplish such a thing?"
"I estimate that apart from Dumbledore, no one can confidently guarantee it. So we absolutely cannot lower our guard."
Voices of discussion rose one after another. Then the German Minister for Magic stood up.
"Grindelwald has already obtained a suitable wand from Gregorovitch. His level of threat has risen yet again, and there is also the matter of the acolytes..."
He gave a bitter smile.
"To be frank with you all, even now, there are still quite a few descendants of his acolytes in high-ranking positions within my country. Have they inherited the will of their forebears? Will they turn to Grindelwald? These people... at this point, do we even count them as our enemies?"
At his words, quite a few Ministers for Magic looked troubled.
This situation was hardly unique to Germany.
Back then, Grindelwald had once boasted a hundred thousand followers. How could they possibly all have been killed? Even imprisoning them all had been impossible. Most pure-blood families had traditions of intermarriage, their bloodlines thoroughly entangled. You in me, me in you.
Who could say for certain that among the people sitting here, there were not also descendants of Grindelwald's followers, or even current believers in his ideals?
Creak!
Creak!
The heavy bronze doors were pushed open.
A middle-aged wizard in a neatly pressed suit entered, carrying a briefcase. He offered Babajide an apologetic smile, then looked around for his seat.
Babajide and the others who turned back in curiosity did not think much of it. Most of them knew the man.
He was the Polish Minister for Magic.
Newt glanced at him absentmindedly, then suddenly froze.
His expression turned grave at once. He sprang to his feet, pulled Tina behind him protectively as he backed away, and raised his wand straight at the man.
"Mr. Scamander?" Babajide asked in confusion.
"Watch out! He's Grindelwald!" Newt's voice rang out loud and clear, drowning out every other sound in the room.
The conference chamber exploded into uproar.
Grindelwald?
Could Scamander have mistaken him?
Others might doubt Newt, but Tina never would. Without the slightest hesitation, she whipped out her wand as well and pointed it, just like Newt, at the disguised Polish Minister for Magic.
Their actions immediately put the Aurors responsible for security on edge. In an instant, the atmosphere in the conference room turned razor-sharp and tense.
"How interesting..."
The Polish Minister for Magic stiffened for a moment, then slowly relaxed and let out a soft laugh.
"Scamander, I never expected you to be here. And I certainly didn't expect you to recognize me with a single glance."
That was when everyone finally believed Newt's judgment.
The hall instantly descended into chaos.
The witches and wizards closest to him fled wildly toward the far end of the room, shouting for the Aurors to attack. In the space of a few moments, dozens of spells shot toward the place where Grindelwald stood.
Yet Grindelwald merely used a graceful Apparition to evade every single one.
Before anyone could even determine where he had moved, he was standing back in the same place again.
To the eye, it looked as if his body had only blurred for a single instant, the spells passing through him and striking the floor instead.
"Mr. Scamander, how did you see through Grindelwald's disguise so quickly?" the Swiss Minister for Magic could not help asking.
"I will never forget his eyes..." Newt said with complete honesty. "His eyes are very special, as brilliant and captivating as gemstones."
"Newt!"
Tina's face darkened.
At that moment, she had the overwhelming urge to point her wand at Newt instead.