"The Echo of Darkness, the Laughter of Light"
Nurmengard.
It was once the hidden sanctuary of the world's most dangerous wizards.
Not because of their magical power"
But for something far more terrifying:
Their ideas.
Now, those cold, cursed, shadowy dungeons were reserved for a single prisoner.
The only one worthy of occupying them entirely.
The gates creaked open slowly, groaning as if the castle itself remembered the horrors of the past.
Dumbledore appeared, wrapped in a dark blue cloak, walking with a solemnity that echoed through every step.
The guards, hardened by the horrors they protected, greeted him with a mix of respect and fear.
No one dared to stop the man who had imprisoned the Demon King with his own hands.
He descended through endless stone corridors until he reached the deepest cell.
There, behind a magical field sealed by ancient runes, he was waiting.
Gellert Grindelwald.
The Dark Lord.
The Scourge of Europe.
The man who once nearly changed the entire world...
And the only one Albus Dumbledore had ever truly loved.
Seated elegantly on a stone bed, he read a book as if he were in a private library"not a prison.
Upon seeing Dumbledore, a sharp smile crossed his face, as if no time had passed between them.
"Well, it's been a while, Albus.
Funny that you'd come to visit me… after being the one who condemned me to this place,"
Grindelwald said with a soft voice, like greeting an old lover on an autumn afternoon.
Dumbledore stopped in front of the cell, his face serene, his gaze sharp as crystal blades.
"Hello, Gellert. I'm glad to see you… whole," he replied calmly, surveying the gloomy surroundings that seemed to have left no mark on his old friend.
"Couldn't be better," Grindelwald answered with a sarcastic smile, setting the book down with grace.
Then his eyes locked onto Dumbledore's.
"I know why you're here. But I want to hear it from your lips."
A brief silence.
The air grew heavier, like the world was holding its breath.
"I want to know if she poses a real threat," Dumbledore confessed, his voice low but firm.
"Her power… it's unimaginable. Beyond what you and I ever were, even at our peak. Even beyond Tom.
If her heart were to turn toward destruction… we couldn't stop her.
No one could."
Grindelwald stared at him silently for a moment before letting out a soft, almost compassionate laugh.
"Still the world's savior, aren't you, Albus?
The hero who'd sacrifice everything to protect others.
Don't you ever get tired of it?
Look at me… I've never been more at peace while you're still consumed by your fears."
Dumbledore stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with barely restrained urgency.
"Please, Gellert. You're the only one who might truly know."
Grindelwald raised an eyebrow theatrically.
"Fine. But in return… I want you to send me some snacks.
These dungeons have no appreciation for refined palates," he said, then closed his eyes.
Silence fell again.
Then"
A chill passed through the air.
Grindelwald's eyes snapped open.
His expression changed"surprise, discomfort… and something rare for him: fear.
A thin trickle of blood slid down from his nose.
"Well now… Looks like they found me," he whispered, wiping the blood with his sleeve, still composed.
Dumbledore rushed forward, heart pounding, but Grindelwald raised a hand, halting him with a calm gesture.
"I'm fine. My fault for looking too deep.
Listen to me, Albus…
She didn't come to destroy this world.
She came to protect something.
And she will.
No matter who she has to go through to do it.
As long as what she protects is safe… the world is not in danger."
He paused, his voice darker now.
"Think of her as a swan.
Beautiful. Serene. Untouchable.
But if anyone gets too close to her young…
She'll become something terrifying."
Dumbledore said nothing, each word searing itself into his mind like fire.
"I'm not afraid of her falling into darkness…" Grindelwald added with a crooked smile.
"Though sometimes I think you use that excuse to avoid facing what you don't understand.
Now, if you'll excuse me… I need some rest.
And don't forget the snacks."
Dumbledore looked like he might respond, but something in his gaze cracked.
Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving the Demon King alone in his cell.
Grindelwald watched his back disappear, and with a soft laugh, murmured to himself:
"Someone who's already fallen into a deeper darkness than any wizard in this world… can't fall any further.
Not here."
He lay back on his stone bed, a mischievous smile on his face as he recalled the fury in that young girl's eyes…
And how she had thrown him out of her mind with terrifying force.
"Hahaha…
This will be fun.
What a headache you've brought upon yourself, Albus.
How delightful it will be to watch you try to control something you should never have provoked…"
.
"Wandaaaa!!" shouted Harry with overflowing joy as he ran out of preschool like an arrow.
His little backpack bounced on his back, and his smile lit up his face. As soon as he saw her, he launched himself straight into her arms, hugging her so tightly it almost made her lose her balance. Wanda lifted him with affection, spinning once as she laughed, swept up in his enthusiasm.
"I missed you so much!" he said excitedly, squeezing her even tighter.
"I missed you too, little one."
Hermione came out shortly after, walking calmly but with one eyebrow raised.
"Did you have fun?" Wanda asked with a warm smile, setting Harry down while gently ruffling his messy hair.
"It was fun... but Harry wouldn't stop telling everyone about magic," said Hermione, arms crossed as if she'd been fighting an internal battle all day. "Luckily, no one believed him. I think one kid thought he was making it up, like pink unicorns or something."
"It slipped out," Harry admitted, lowering his head in embarrassment.
"Haha, don't worry," said Susan, joining the group with a light step. "I'm sure by the weekend everyone will have a convenient case of brainwashing, courtesy of your favorite stories."
"Now that I think about it," Susan added thoughtfully, "aren't there preschools for magical children? That would prevent situations like this."
"I looked into it," Wanda answered naturally, as if it were obvious. "Most kids learn at home, especially if they're from pure-blood families. Half-bloods or Muggle-borns usually go to regular schools... until they get their letter."
"Then the elitism makes sense," said Susan, frowning. "After so many visits to Diagon Alley, it's becoming obvious. They look at us like we're tracking mud all over the place. If you're a Muggle or even seem like one, you're lucky if they don't accidentally curse you."
"Even so, it's hard not to want to go back. Next week Dancing with Wolves by Lockhart comes out!" said Susan, eyes sparkling and hands clasped with excitement. "They say he faced down a pack of werewolves armed with nothing but a quill and his smile!"
Wanda nodded, though without much enthusiasm. She wasn't a fan, but she enjoyed listening to Susan's passion for the books.
"What a shame I'm already married..." Susan said in a dreamy tone.
"Mom!" exclaimed Hermione, offended, cheeks flushing red.
"It's a joke, Herms! Just a little joke. Don't make me sleep on the couch," Susan quickly said with a guilty smile.
"Dad would be sad..." Hermione muttered, puffing her cheeks.
"Sorry, sorry. I won't say it again," Susan laughed nervously.
"Are Lockhart's stories cooler than mine?" Harry suddenly asked, genuinely concerned. His eyes widened like the world was at stake. He loved the Harry Potter stories"not because he believed they were real (well... not entirely)"but because he felt like he was living all those adventures himself. Like when he had a pet dragon and fought a basilisk with a giant sword.
"Well, our little Harry's stories are magical children's books," Susan said gently. "Lockhart's are... more adult adventures, dangerous and a bit crazy."
Harry frowned, thinking.
"So... they're not cooler than my stories, right?" he asked, looking at Wanda.
She crouched down and winked at him.
"Nothing's cooler than your stories, champ."
Harry grinned from ear to ear, satisfied.
"Then I'm not interested in Lockhart!" he shouted as he ran off as if he'd just won a war.
"You have to read something before deciding if you like it or not," said Hermione, running after him like a proper mini intellectual.
"Is that so? Then Wanda can read it for me," Harry replied quickly, turning around and pointing at Wanda.
"That doesn't count! You have to read it yourself!" protested Hermione.
"But Wanda said she likes reading stories to me, right?" Harry said, turning with bright puppy eyes.
Wanda smiled, shrugged, and winked at him.
"Of course. Let's see if Lockhart can compete with our Harry Potter."
"See?" Harry said to Hermione with a triumphant grin. "Point for me!"
And as they kept walking down the street toward home, the sun began to set behind the houses, and the laughter of children, the mothers' jokes, and the warmth of an ordinary afternoon filled the air with a magic that needed no wands.