Felix opened the door, and Lucifer immediately asked curiously: "What's inside?"
"It's nothing, just a lonely old man." Felix sat on the sofa and breathed a sigh of relief, a smile gracing his face.
There are many secret things that will not be recorded in books.
This is why he is interested in Grindelwald. A wizard who was once a leader in the world is naturally worth talking to.
"Arrogant Riddle..." Felix recalled Grindelwald's words, and to say he wasn't surprised would be a lie.
Once, he only caught glimpses of that dark era from books, and thought Voldemort was merely a terrorist in rural England.
Unexpectedly, this guy actually came to Nurmengard and proudly declared to Grindelwald that he would start from the place where he fell!
From the beginning, Voldemort was targeting Dumbledore.
And Grindelwald also affirmed his power...
"Interesting…"
"What's so interesting? What did you do again? And you didn't tell me?" Lucifer's eyes suddenly widened, his displeasure evident.
"Speak! And don't dare to say there are ants crawling all over my body!!"
Felix stood up and stretched.
"Sleep!"
...
...
The next morning, Felix rose early.
He didn't plan to go to Hogwarts, although Mrs. Pince did look forward to him repairing those precious books quickly, but...
There are more interesting things to do!
First, he changed his clothes and adjusted the increasingly thick scarf around his neck, then walked out of the castle with a stack of parchment.
Just as he entered the ruins of Nurmengard, he saw a ragged elf with big ears and thin limbs walking out of the castle.
His eyes, as big as light bulbs, seemed to be covered with a layer of white blinds, making them unclear. With stiff steps, he walked straight past Felix and outside.
A house elf who had the Imperius Curse cast on him.
Felix was a little stunned. It seemed that the person in charge of the prison had reached an extreme level of fear of Grindelwald.
I don't know if they dared to intercept and inspect Grindelwald when he sent the letter.
Following yesterday's path, he soon arrived outside Grindelwald's prison a few minutes later.
He just sat on the floor, a dinner plate on the small table containing exquisite food.
When he saw someone coming, he didn't care. He casually picked up the food with his hands and stuffed it into his mouth.
Felix raised his hand slightly, and the pile of parchment slowly flew towards the iron bed. He leaned against the wall outside the door, drinking the prepared energy potion.
Not in a hurry…
After a while, when Grindelwald finished eating, he waved his hand and all the dishes disappeared.
"Riddle seems to be much more extreme than you," Felix said.
Grindelwald stood up and picked up a piece of parchment: "It's a bit drastic, but not as exaggerated as the rumors.
He does support pure-blood theory, but does not completely rule out half-blood wizards and Muggle-born wizards. In fact, in the eyes of people like him, whether they are pure-bloods, half-bloods, Muggle-borns, or Muggles, they are all beneath him, and no one is qualified to be on an equal footing with him.
He advocated pure-blood theory, but under the circumstances at that time, pure-blood wizards were the easiest targets for him to win over. Everyone knew after that that not long after establishing the organization, his violent and arrogant nature was fully revealed."
"I see." Felix nodded and asked, "What do you think about pure-blood theory?"
"The only family that can truly rise to the level of blood is the Dumbledore family. Their family has some relationship with the Phoenix, but that's it," Grindelwald said, then seemed to relax for a while.
"The others... are just some families that have been inherited to this day. As for Riddle, he is actually a half-blood, and the Slytherin blood has bloomed again in him.
As he spoke, Grindelwald diverted his gaze from the parchment and peered out the window. An owl was soaring through the sky, clutching a letter in its talons.
Then, with a blink, the owl vanished, leaving nothing but clouds in the sky...
His voice dropped even lower as he turned away from the window:
"Think about it, if an arrogant genius isn't driven by profit, would he be willing to attribute his success to his lineage and bloodline?" He mused softly:
"For him, Slytherin's bloodline is merely a symbol of his legitimacy, a testament to his power, and an object of adoration for his followers.
And what elevates him to the throne is what makes his disciples bow.
It's still the sword in his hand!"
Felix was a little taken aback. "You admire him greatly?!"
"Other than his fear of death, I'd say he's a success.
But then again..."
He seemed to be grinding his teeth, his voice quivering with emotion:
"As long as... as long as he opposes that bastard Albus, he'd be worthy of admiration, a true warrior!"
Grindelwald's voice grew louder, a mixture of laughter and disdain:
"Haha, it's his own fault! He's the one who nurtured Riddle. He saw long ago that Riddle is a misanthrope who deems himself superior to all others. He saw it long ago!
But he just clings to that hypocritical facade! Where's the child who thought he could change, oh yes, with love? Where's his love?!"
As his emotions escalated, the entire castle seemed to be assaulted by howling winds, gravel pelting his face like small bullets. He pushed through the barrier and confronted Grindelwald quietly.
"I warned him, I urged him to shed his hateful, vile mask of hypocrisy and crush Riddle right from the start.
But he couldn't do it, he refused to strip away his hypocritical mask, firmly affixed to his face! He kept wavering and hesitating until Riddle's shadow engulfed the entire UK, and finally he fell into the hands of a baby!"
With a sudden roar, he bellowed at the top of his lungs:
"Then who the hell will tell me - why?! Why-WHY did he stand against me in front of the whole world?!"
Felix had already retreated several steps, pressing against the wall as the wind roared, mirroring Grindelwald's fury.
This centenarian, imprisoned in this desolate place for over forty years, had transitioned from yesterday's rusty voice, as though unused for ages, to today's thunderous roar.
No one knew how many emotions he had bottled up, how many joys, angers, sorrows, and delights he longed to release.
And Felix couldn't help but wonder who this man was writing to when he requested parchment.
After all, he had been incarcerated here long before Voldemort began to rise in the wizarding world.
and...
Was that what he was pondering?
Oh well, it's best not to speculate...
Fumbling with his hat awkwardly, Felix retrieved his pocket watch, the brass cover springing open.
"Well, I apologize, I have matters to attend to, so I must take my leave."
With that, he turned and hastily departed, paying little heed to what Grindelwald might think.
After Felix departed, the fierce wind raged for an indeterminate amount of time before the elderly man who had been sprawled on the ground slowly rose.
Exhausted, he settled on the ground, leaning against the iron frame of the bed, his hand resting on the mattress. He picked up a piece of parchment, then made his way to the low table and grasped the quill.
——Albus
He frowned, then swiped his hand across the parchment, erasing the ink.
——Dumbledore
Still feeling unsettled, it had been far too long since he received a reply. He should... yes, he should be more respectful, more intimate.
——Dear Albus