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The reaction of Professor Lockhart might have gone unnoticed by most, but Ian and Aurora instinctively turned to look at him. Even the professors seated beside him failed to sense anything amiss.
They likely assumed the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's reaction was simply another case of his inability to mask his emotions, something that aligned all too well with the frivolous, self-absorbed image Gilderoy Lockhart had cultivated.
In truth, several other professors were also momentarily stunned by the sudden revelation. They exchanged brief glances, their thoughts racing beneath composed and dignified expressions.
"Silence!"
Professor McGonagall's voice rang through the hall in an attempt to restore order, but the din of excited chatter drowned her out. At the center of it all, the Weasley twins continued reading aloud, their voices carrying over the commotion.
"Brothers and sisters, the world remembers me, Gellert Grindelwald, as a man of great ambition. My so-called downfall has cast me as a villain, a monster, a butcher in your eyes."
"But is that truly the case?"
"You brand me a criminal, clamoring for my destruction, reveling in your so-called victory, yet none of you stop to question whether I was fighting for you all along."
"A wizard of my caliber sees what others do not. The path we have followed for centuries has grown stagnant, shackling us in outdated traditions and trapping our minds in the past. Everything I did, I did for the salvation of our kind."
"Without discovery, without change, there can be no progress. Even Muggles grasp this simple truth, yet too many among us have been lulled into complacency by the illusion of peace."
"Look at our world as it stands today. Is it greater than before? Or is it diminished? Those with the courage to think for themselves already know the answer."
"I am not some mindless specter of evil, devoid of thought and feeling. You may demonize me, but that will not change the truth, nor will it conceal the slow decay of the wizarding world before your very eyes."
"I have stood at the pinnacle of magic. Decades ago, I left all of you behind. With power comes responsibility, and so I took upon myself the burden of our future."
"That was my triumph, my legacy. And even now, I do not believe I was ever truly in the wrong. For all I ever sought was to restore the greatness of wizardkind!"
"A tyrant? No, Dumbledore is the tyrant!"
"I lost only because I lacked his cunning, his duplicity!"
"Through the long years of my imprisonment, I have had time to reflect on my past, on our past. Dumbledore and I were not merely adversaries, nor was our bond a fleeting friendship."
"Perhaps my defeat was inevitable from the very start."
"Some of you will not understand, but I know now why I failed. My greatest weakness was my heart… Yes, there was love, true love. And that, above all else, is why I lost."
"For love is the strongest magic of all. Even if I could relive it all, my fate would remain unchanged. Love always destroys the one who feels it most deeply."
"No, no, not the love of kin, but a love that was twisted and turned against me. You, little reporter, he's British, surely you understand what I mean?"
"My conclusion, no, my revelation, is beyond dispute. Would I, Grindelwald, ever lie about such a thing?"
"Dumbledore used it against me. I have revisited every moment, every memory, and the truth is clear: I did not merely lose a battle, I was ensnared in a scheme he had laid from the very beginning!"
"He is a vile, conniving, treacherous Incubus of a man! He seduced me!"
...
The Weasley twins had practically climbed onto the dining tables, their impassioned recital reaching a fever pitch. Gasps rippled through the Great Hall, students of all ages staring in disbelief as the words of Grindelwald's letter echoed around them.
There was no stopping it; the Daily Prophet's headline was simply too explosive. But the last line was the most shocking of all, laced with bitterness as it outright branded Dumbledore a dark and seductive Incubus. No wonder the professors at the High Table struggled to maintain a straight face. It even led to the rather spectacular sight of Professor Lockhart spraying pumpkin juice a full ten feet across the Great Hall.
Judging by the expression on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's face, even he was utterly bewildered. He clearly hadn't expected this. The so-called greatest seer of the age, laid low by a Daily Prophet exposé.
Fate, who could have foreseen this?
A tainted legacy!
Both Grindelwald and Dumbledore, once legends, had now found their names splashed across the front page, their reputations muddied beyond repair. The excited chatter of students filled the air, none of them questioning the credibility of the so-called "news source."
"Did Dumbledore really have a relationship with Grindelwald?"
"Merlin's beard! I have to write home- no, my parents might already know! Our family always gets the Prophet delivered at dawn!"
"An Incubus! So, Dumbledore's family has demon blood! Miss Grindelwald, you must know the truth; tell us everything!"
"Hiss~ No wonder I always thought Ian Prince had an eerie sort of charm! This explains everything!"
Aurora, caught in the crossfire of unwanted attention, was suddenly besieged by eager questions. But she wasn't the only one. Over at the Ravenclaw table, Ian found himself on the receiving end of frequent glances from Gersha Selwyn and Daphne Greengrass, who seemed to have come to a unanimous conclusion—
Ian must have Dumbledore's bloodline.
Of course, Ian himself was blissfully unaware of this newfound theory. His attention was fixed instead on the real Grindelwald at the High Table. The extraordinary seer, currently masquerading as a blithering idiot, was still struggling to recover from his spectacular choking fit.
"Blimey… I never thought I'd see anyone but Headmaster Dumbledore leave Grindelwald this flustered!"
Once upon a time…
When Ian first learned that Grindelwald, of all people, had taken over Lockhart's post as Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, the first thought that crossed his mind was whether Nurmengard was now an empty fortress.
Logically, the smartest move would have been for one of Grindelwald's Acolytes to remain behind, assuming his identity to throw off any suspicion. That way, the world would have continued believing the dark wizard remained locked away in his own prison. No uproar. No attention. Just a seamless deception.
And now, the facts seemed to support Ian's theory, except for one unexpected twist.
It wasn't an Acolyte who had taken Grindelwald's place at Nurmengard.
Ian was now seriously starting to suspect that Grindelwald had somehow swapped places with the real Gilderoy Lockhart.
"How in Merlin's name did old Grindelwald pull this off? That's Lockhart we're talking about! A man who'd rather Obliviate himself into oblivion than let his fame be overshadowed!"
Ian was now eighty to ninety percent sure his theory was right.
Because otherwise, why would this article ever have made it into a British newspaper?
No true Acolyte of Grindelwald would dare publish such slander against their leader, let alone spout ridiculous nonsense about love and Incubi. No, this had the fingerprints of only one wizard, the sensationalist writer himself, Gilderoy Lockhart.
It was written all over the interview.
The exaggerated style. The dramatic embellishments. The unmistakable urge to grab attention.
"What an absolute load of dragon dung! Don't these newspapers have anything else to report on?"
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor took several deep breaths, finally regaining some composure. As he wiped down the table with a crisp, lavender-scented handkerchief, his voice rang with a mix of exasperation and righteous fury.
"Whoever wrote this ought to be tied to a broomstick and sent hurtling straight into the Whomping Willow! This is outright slander against our esteemed headmaster, no less! And that poor, innocent parent sitting in an Austrian prison!"
This, perhaps, was the first morning in a very long time that had left Grindelwald, legendary Dark Lord, master manipulator, visionary seer, completely blindsided.
(To Be Continued…)