"I just wanted to give our Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts a little gift," Ian said, pulling out a bag of itching powder and sprinkling it all over the floating iron objects.
Aurora just quietly watched his mischief, not stopping him, and even after Ian contently put away the pouch, the little girl offered a suggestion of her own.
"I think you should mature a bit, engrave some explosive runes on it, so it explodes upon touch with the power of ten kilograms of dynamite. That would be impressive."
Good heavens!
This is truly dealing with a Living Yama!
"?????"
Ian was shocked by Aurora's suggestion; he just wanted to make the Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts feel uncomfortable for once, but this German girl in front of him seemed to want Grindelwald to be blasted sky-high!
"I also think you need a bit of self-awareness. If it goes down like that, your grandfather might not get killed, but we're definitely the ones who'll die... No! I'm afraid it would just be me!"
Ian immediately rejected Aurora's proposal without even thinking about it.
"I'll say it was me,"
Aurora offered loyally.
Ian still shook his head firmly.
He's a little wizard who knows his limits, so he simply brought out several dung bombs to make a small mechanism and installed it on the podium in the Spell Classroom.
"I'm just responding to his slander against my image... Oh, right, did you say he learned this trick from Muggles? What exactly is your grandfather trying to do?"
After handling the mechanism, Ian immediately started washing his hands. Casting Aquamenti, he then used Wingardium Leviosa on his wand, freeing both hands to scrub under flowing water.
Ian's way of casting spells left Aurora somewhat puzzled?
"The best way to suppress a scandal is to cover it with more scandals. This approach is also quite effective in confusing the audience and suppressing the spread of hot news." Aurora answered Ian's question, although her eyebrows remained furrowed as she watched Ian reclaim his wand after washing his hands with a knowing look in her eyes.
She glanced at her hand, which still maintained Wingardium Leviosa, and then at Ian's wand, never understanding how Ian's magic stayed sustained.
"Dumbledore is a Succubus, seducing the Morning News?"
Seeing Aurora nod her head, Ian finally seemed to have an epiphany, understanding the series of operations Grindelwald carried out in the afternoon!
Old Demon King actually understands public relations...
"Hiss! He showered in the rain himself, and now he's throwing me directly into the river?!" Ian was speechless, "Shouldn't he be punishing those rumor-mongers instead?"
Faced with this question,
Aurora just blinked.
"Sixteen Saints are already in action." Her response was still in that straightforward tone, but the information it revealed was unexpected to Ian.
"Will I be able to see the Prophet Daily tomorrow?"
Ian tasted a sense of foreboding.
"Uh, maybe?"
Aurora's tone also carried some uncertainty.
Tilting her head after,
she looked again at the floating iron objects.
"I have to hurry to the secret classroom. If I let my grandfather wait too long, he probably will think it's you who delayed the reconstruction time for the secret classroom."
Aurora's words left Ian momentarily dumbfounded.
"What about you?"
Ian instinctively asked, only to realize he asked a silly question.
Sure enough,
"He is, after all, my grandfather, and when there's someone else to blame, he'll naturally blame others first." Aurora waved to Ian and moved towards the stairs, carrying a mound of stuff with her.
All along, there was no one.
Aurora quickly brought the items to the secret classroom.
At that moment,
Gilderoy Lockhart was standing in the middle of the classroom, rubbing his chin, seemingly planning the layout. All the ghosts' cutlery and long tables had turned into a dark pile of ash in the corner.
"What took you so long? Did you encounter some night-strolling little wizard on the way?" Grindelwald looked at Aurora as she entered the classroom with a heap of iron objects.
Aurora gave Grindelwald a lengthy look.
"Met Ian."
She knew lying was pointless—sure enough, Grindelwald lifted his wand with a subtle wave, gathering all the itching powder Ian had meticulously sprinkled over all the iron objects into one place.
Not having the chance to be of use at all. The Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts even pulled out a small pouch, collecting the itching powder, who knows for what purpose.
He didn't even handle the booby-trapped podium.
"Return this podium to its original spot later... as is." Grindelwald spoke cheerfully, his nerve obviously far exceeding the little wizard's expectations.
"Uh..."
Aurora expressed silent condolences for Ian in her heart.
And just then,
"What were you two chatting about?"
Grindelwald looked curious as he asked.
"You didn't see?"
Aurora looked up at the man before her.
With a young face, Grindelwald shook his head, "I didn't see a thing, child. I merely guided you, and then you voluntarily revealed everything to me."
Such rhetoric might convince Ian, but Aurora remained unfazed; she knew her grandfather's cunning far exceeded hers and Ian's combined, by hundreds or even thousands of times.