“You don’t seem very surprised to hear that.”

Grindelwald looked at Dawn’s expression with interest.

“That reaction suggests you’ve already had such thoughts, haven’t you? Ha! Albus’s good student.”

His tone when he said that last sentence was complicated.

There was even a trace of schadenfreude.

Dawn did not respond.

He had no interest in arguing with Grindelwald about his views or ambitions.

However, from the perspective of collective consciousness, if one day he truly launched a war and exposed the existence of wizards to the world, it might actually benefit wizardkind.

Grindelwald’s words stirred something faintly within him.

But Dawn still remembered why he had come here.

He focused on memorizing the special patterns floating within Grindelwald’s magic, then began modifying the layers within himself.

Gradually, Dawn felt something inside him changing.

It was as if a new sense had been added beyond the usual five.

Like a nearsighted person putting on glasses for the first time, the world suddenly appeared both familiar and completely different.

The clarity was intoxicating.

When he had copied Trelawney’s talent before, he had never experienced anything like this.

Grindelwald frowned slightly and rose from his chair.

He stared at Dawn with surprise.

Although the man’s appearance had not changed, something about him was shifting.

A presence.

A feeling similar to that of a true seer.

“A remarkable child,” Grindelwald murmured.

He recalled the fleeting glimpse of the future he had once seen and found himself growing more curious about the world’s fate.

Dawn stepped back slightly.

Part of him remained wary of the suddenly standing Grindelwald.

At the same time, he carefully examined the strange perception he was experiencing.

It felt as if his soul had been pulled away from his body.

From some higher dimension, he was now overlooking time and the world itself.

A hazy image appeared before him.

Clack.

Clack.

From a distant viewpoint, Dawn watched a pair of familiar hands filing down a black stone with a rasp.

Then those hands carefully gathered the powder and poured it into the water chamber of a pointed spray bottle.

That was him.

He was grinding the Resurrection Stone into powder and adding it to a spray bottle.

But what did that mean?

Before Dawn could think further, the image faded.

Another vision replaced it.

He saw the classroom where he taught.

More than ten young witches and wizards sat at their desks.

The spray bottle sat on the windowsill, releasing a thin mist like a humidifier. Tiny particles were mixed into the vapor.

Dawn’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper.

Instead of answers, the vision only brought more confusion.

If the scenes were correct, then in the future he would grind the Resurrection Stone into powder and disperse it into the classroom air so students would unknowingly inhale it.

But why?

Why would he do something like that? What possible benefit would it bring him?

No matter how he thought about it, Dawn could not understand.

For a moment he even wondered if the prophetic ability he had copied had malfunctioned.

“What did you see?”

Grindelwald asked curiously as he observed Dawn’s constantly changing expression.

Pulled out of his thoughts, Dawn looked up.

Then he realized something.

Standing before him was a highly experienced seer.

Instead of explaining everything in detail, Dawn asked more generally,

“Mr. Grindelwald, when you look into the future, have you ever seen yourself doing things that make absolutely no sense?”

“Things without reason?”

Grindelwald shook his head patiently.

“Child, that is a very inexperienced way of thinking. Just because something has no reason now does not mean it will lack reason in the future.”

“Moreover, the very act of seeing the future can itself become the reason you perform those actions.”

Dawn did not like that answer.

Doing something simply because you saw yourself doing it?

He disliked the idea that everything was predetermined.

After thinking briefly, he asked again.

“What if I deliberately avoid it?”

“I don’t know.”

Grindelwald shook his head again.

“Throughout history, seers have always held two opposing beliefs.”

“The first belief is that the future is only one possibility. If you change your actions, the future will change as well.”

“The second belief is that the future is as unchangeable as the past. The act of seeing the future is itself part of the chain that creates it.”

He paused.

Then his voice grew darker.

“And the amusing thing is that most seers who firmly believe in the second theory once believed in the first.”

“Just like me.”

He spoke quietly.

“I could not change the future I saw. So I cannot offer you any advice.”

Dawn raised an eyebrow.

Just like you?

So Grindelwald had foreseen his own defeat when he launched his war.

He had tried to change it.

But failed.

Dawn let out a cold laugh.

“That’s because you hesitated. You deliberately lost to Dumbledore. That’s why your war failed.”

“Deliberately lost to Albus? Perhaps.”

Grindelwald did not argue.

He simply shook his head bitterly. “But child, believe me. Even if I had won, the outcome would not have been much different.”

Seeing his expression, Dawn suddenly felt disappointed.

Grindelwald truly had grown old.

He had expected to meet a dark lord who still possessed ambition and elegance even in defeat.

Instead, the man before him seemed like nothing more than a weary old prisoner resigned to fate.

Dawn no longer wished to continue the conversation. His purpose here had already been fulfilled.

“Well, it was pleasant speaking with you. But it’s getting late. I should be going.”

Grindelwald did not try to stop him.

He only asked one final question.

“Child… could you tell me how you became a seer?”

“No.”

Dawn’s figure disappeared down the spiraling staircase.

Grindelwald watched the darkness swallow him.

Remembering the disappointment and contempt in Dawn’s eyes before he left, he murmured softly,

“How merciless. Truly Albus’s student.”

A gust of wind blew in through the window. His whisper vanished into the night.

Nurmengard fell silent again.

Night had fully arrived.

Dawn stood outside on the snow-covered wasteland. For a long moment he remained still.

Then he took out the wooden box containing the Resurrection Stone.

An unchangeable future?

Dawn sneered.

If he destroyed the stone now, the future he had just seen could never happen.

He opened the box.

But just before his fingers touched the dark stone, he suddenly froze.

Destroying a Deathly Hallow just to prove a philosophical point? That sounded incredibly stupid.

Once he calmed down, he found himself unwilling to do it.

But if that was the case, did it mean the future would inevitably unfold exactly as he had seen?

And if the future truly could not be changed… Would destroying the Resurrection Stone simply trigger magic to correct reality?

Standing in the freezing wind, Dawn felt conflicted.

His thoughts were tangled.

In such a short time, from drawing the fortune stick to coming to Nurmengard, he had absorbed far too much information.

He rubbed his temples.

Then suddenly he froze.

“Wait.” Dawn looked up abruptly. “Am I focusing on the wrong thing?”

Why had he suddenly become obsessed with whether the future could be changed?

The real issue was the prophecy that said he would soon encounter a crisis.

And besides—

Even if the future could not be changed, that might actually benefit him in the short term.

After all, the fortune he had drawn said to go with the flow and unexpected gains would follow.

Dawn slapped his forehead.

Without realizing it, Grindelwald had completely led his thoughts astray.

Clicking his tongue softly, Dawn summoned flames around his body and vanished from Austria.

However, he did not return to Hogwarts yet.

Since trouble might be approaching, he wanted to secure his valuables first.

The scenery shifted.

Dawn returned to the Vatican. He opened a drawer and stored several items he had been carrying.

Books.

The invisibility cloak.

The crown.

After a moment of hesitation, he kept the Resurrection Stone with him.

While doing this, he attempted to peer into the future again using his newly copied ability.

But although Grindelwald’s prophetic talent far surpassed Trelawney’s, it still could not be used freely.

After several failed attempts, Dawn gave up. He left the Vatican and Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

From there he returned to Hogwarts through the fireplace.

The moon had risen.

Dinner in the Great Hall was already over.

Dawn climbed out of the fireplace and brushed soot from his clothes.

Seeing candy on the desk, he suddenly realized he was hungry. He touched his stomach. Then decided to go to the kitchen.

The Hogwarts kitchen lay directly beneath the Great Hall.

It could be reached through a staircase near the Hufflepuff common room.

The entrance was hidden behind a painting of fruit. If you tickled the pear in the painting, it turned into a door handle.

Dawn opened the door.

A group of house-elves was busily cleaning the kitchen.

The moment they saw him, they dropped everything and rushed forward. They bowed so deeply their noses nearly touched the floor.

“Oh! A respected professor has come to the kitchen! What can Dodo do for you?”

Their voices were high and eager.

Dawn was used to it.

“I need some food. Steak and milk would be best. If not, biscuits and pie are fine.”

The elf wailed in horror.

“A great wizard is hungry! Dodo is a useless elf! Bad Dodo!”

He began punching his own head and slamming it against the floor.

Dawn sighed. “It’s my fault for missing dinner. Just prepare the food.”

Then he sat at a nearby table to wait.

Several other house-elves hurried over with candy and drinks.

But just then—

The kitchen door opened again.

Dumbledore walked in.

Beside him was a chubby boy Dawn had spent the day with not long ago.

Neville.

Dawn’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Professor Hickman,” Dumbledore said with mild surprise. “May I sit here?”

“Of course.”

Dawn smiled politely.

He quietly observed Dumbledore’s expression. Since learning about the coming crisis, Dumbledore was his primary suspect.

Running into him here so coincidentally? And with Neville?

Something felt suspicious.

“Hello, Professor Hickman,” Neville said shyly.

Dawn nodded calmly.

“Did Mr. Longbottom get into trouble?”

“No,” Dumbledore replied. “The child had an accident. His memory was affected.”

He patted Neville’s head. “He has just left the hospital and hasn’t eaten yet, so I brought him here.”

“Memory problems?” Dawn feigned concern. “Is he alright now?”

Dumbledore shook his head regretfully.

Of course he was not alright.

Dawn already knew that.

Without the memories he had extracted from Neville’s mind, they could never be restored.

Just then the house-elves returned with food.

Dumbledore thanked them gently and prevented them from harming themselves again.

Then he looked at Dawn.

“Professor Hickman, did you miss dinner as well?”

“Yes. I had to leave the school earlier and returned too late.”

Dumbledore placed a pie onto his plate.

“You left the school? Did something happen?”

Was that a test?

Or casual conversation?

Dawn quickly formed an excuse.

“It’s a little embarrassing. When I was sending Christmas gifts, I somehow forgot about Hagrid. So I went out earlier to buy something for him.”

“I see.”

Dumbledore nodded.

“That reminds me. Thank you for the candy you sent me for Christmas.”

He stroked his beard.

Then suddenly froze.

Wait.

Speaking of Christmas gifts… Had he sent return gifts this year?

After thinking for a moment, Dumbledore calmly took a sip of tea to hide his embarrassment.

After receiving Dawn’s gift that day, he had immediately gone to Nurmengard to ask Grindelwald about Voldemort.

And completely forgotten to send gifts in return.

Fortunately, he changed the topic smoothly. “Professor Hickman, are you free tomorrow?”

Dawn sensed trouble.

“What do you need?”

“Tomorrow morning I plan to bring several professors into the Forbidden Forest. We need to clear out dangerous creatures before next week’s practical lesson begins.”

“I would appreciate your help.”

Dawn did not particularly want to go. But since the headmaster asked, he could only agree.

“I’ll be there.”

Dumbledore smiled gratefully.

They continued chatting for a while.

Neville quietly ate beside them.

Soon Dawn finished two steaks and drank his milk. “Headmaster, I’ll head back now.”

“Rest well,” Dumbledore said kindly.

Dawn left the kitchen and stepped into the dim corridor.

He glanced back once.

The red in his eyes gradually turned cold.

“Dumbledore…”

He murmured the name quietly, narrowing his eyes.

Saturday arrived.

The snow had finally stopped.

Early in the morning, Dawn arrived at the entrance to the Forbidden Forest. Dumbledore and McGonagall were already waiting.

After greeting him, Dumbledore led them deeper toward the forest edge.

He pointed at a line marked on the ground.

“This is the area I selected for practical lessons. Roughly the size of three Quidditch fields. Today we need to drive away any dangerous creatures inside.”

McGonagall looked worried.

“Three Quidditch fields? Albus, isn’t that too risky? What if the students encounter danger?”

“I trust the students,” Dumbledore said calmly.

“Simple dangers will not trouble them.”

“And besides…”

He took two bracelets from his robe.

One was black, decorated with symbols of a badger, lion, eagle, and snake.

The other was plain white.

“Before entering the forest, students will wear the black bracelet. It can track their position and send emergency signals.”

“Professors will wear the white bracelet, which shows the students’ locations.”

He continued explaining. “I will also temporarily lift the anti-Apparition restrictions in this area.”

“So Minerva, there is no need to worry. Safety will be ensured.”

To demonstrate, Dumbledore placed the black bracelet on his wrist and walked into the forest.

McGonagall put on the white bracelet and felt its effect.

Her worried expression eased.

“Professor Hickman, would you like to try?” She removed the bracelet and handed it to Dawn.

___________

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