The high tower of Nurmengard was shrouded in a biting cold wind.
The door to the top-floor cell stood slightly ajar, as though it had been waiting for someone's arrival.
When Dumbledore pushed the door open, the cell's occupant was standing before the only narrow window. Beyond it lay a leaden sky and an endless range of snow-covered mountains.
A hoarse voice rang out:
"In the past twelve years, you've visited often enough to make me feel quite honoured."
Grindelwald turned around. He wore his usual grey robes, his figure gaunt and thin.
"I need your help with something, Gellert."
Hearing Dumbledore's words, the corner of Grindelwald's mouth curled upward.
"So you only think of this place when you need a favour?"
The air suddenly grew still.
Only the howling wind outside the window remained.
After a long silence, it was Grindelwald who finally spoke first.
"Go on, then. I'm rather curious. What could possibly trouble Albus Dumbledore?"
He walked over to the plain wooden table and pulled out a chair.
A stack of unused parchment lay on the table.
Dumbledore sat opposite him and took an object from his robes, gently pushing it across.
Grindelwald stared at the old, battered black diary. A gleam flashed through his mismatched eyes as he reached out a long, thin finger and touched the cover.
"A Horcrux."
He whispered the word. There was no doubt in his voice, only certainty.
Dumbledore nodded.
Grindelwald's expression immediately turned grave.
Even among the Dark Arts, this thing was one of the most blasphemous and evil taboos.
Very few Wizards even knew of its existence and principles, and those who truly possessed both the will and the ability to create one were madmen among madmen.
Grindelwald frowned.
Back then, he had briefly entertained the idea of creating a Horcrux to guarantee his own safety, but the thought had been as fleeting as a shooting star.
To realise the "Greater Good", what he required was a clear mind and rational judgment.
Splitting the soul meant distorting one's humanity and destroying one's reason. Such a price was unacceptable to him, for it ran counter to his ideals.
Grindelwald's sharp gaze pierced Dumbledore's still-bright blue eyes as he spoke with complete certainty:
"It belongs to that man... Lord Voldemort. Or rather, Tom Marvolo Riddle."
Dumbledore acknowledged the judgment.
Grindelwald's heterochromatic eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze returned to the seemingly harmless diary.
After a long moment, he finally spoke in a low voice.
"That man has gone too far down the path of the Dark Arts, Albus. So far... that it is without precedent."
Grindelwald regarded the Dark Arts as a tool. They were efficient, powerful, and useful when needed.
But he had never abandoned other forms of Magic. He specialised in the Dark Arts while using other branches of magic as support, and at the same time relied on them to suppress the influence of the Dark Arts upon his body and mind.
Thus, compared with Lord Voldemort, Grindelwald was considerably more "normal."
Lord Voldemort, on the other hand, had devoted himself entirely to the Dark Arts.
His talent in this field was already extraordinary, and coupled with his reckless research, which ignored all consequences, his achievements in the Dark Arts were second to none.
Dumbledore let out a deep sigh.
"Tom's obsession with immortality became so overwhelming that it twisted everything else. To him, creating Horcruxes was probably not about ambition or power, but simply about immortality itself."
"For that purpose, he did not hesitate to split his soul again and again, creating such abominable things..."
Grindelwald immediately caught the key point in those words, and a trace of understanding flashed across his mismatched eyes.
"So, he created more than one Horcrux, didn't he?"
He knew Dumbledore too well.
If there were only a single Horcrux, no matter how sturdy or well protected it was, Dumbledore would eventually find a way to destroy it.
Yet Grindelwald could see the worry in Dumbledore's eyes and quickly guessed where the real problem lay.
Dumbledore began explaining his suspicions and concerns.
After Lucien's earlier "reminder", Dumbledore had become convinced that the possibility of Voldemort possessing multiple Horcruxes was extremely high.
He had re-examined the enormous changes in Voldemort's personality and behavioural patterns between his youth and his later years.
The transformation, in which reason had gradually been replaced by madness, paranoia, and inexplicable cruelty, was so extreme that it could not be fully explained merely by increased power or the corruption of the Dark Arts.
"Splitting the soul... and likely doing so repeatedly," Dumbledore said in a low voice. "That alone explains what he eventually became. But the problem is that we do not know how many Horcruxes he created, nor do we know where to find them."
"Fortunately, we now possess an intact sample. It may provide us with clues and guide us in the right direction. For that, I must thank that boy, Lucien."
At the mention of the name, the conversation naturally shifted to the events that had taken place at Hogwarts that term.
When the Basilisk was brought up, Grindelwald's eyes flickered almost imperceptibly, as though recalling an unpleasant memory.
Years ago, in order to increase his own "persuasive power", Grindelwald had once attempted to breed those Magical Creatures himself.
But before the Basilisk eggs could hatch, they had been discovered by a certain mop-haired fellow who liked carrying a suitcase around and possessed an excessive passion for Magical Creatures.
After a struggle, the eggs had all been smashed to pieces during the chaos.
Hmmm...
"If you intend to search for the Horcruxes, are you planning to use the connection between the soul fragments? This Diary is an excellent catalyst."
Grindelwald tapped the Diary lightly with his finger and looked at Dumbledore.
"Precisely. After all, it is still an intact Horcrux. And..."
Dumbledore's blue eyes narrowed behind his half-moon spectacles.
"This Horcrux appears to be rather special. It can manipulate others, converse like a living person, contains Tom's memories from his school days, and can even attempt to reconstruct a physical body."
"Perhaps the fragment of soul placed inside it carries greater weight?"
After hearing Lucien's account earlier, even Dumbledore had felt a lingering sense of dread.
One Voldemort was already hidden somewhere in the world like a venomous serpent, silently gathering strength.
If another teenage Voldemort were to emerge, it would truly become a nightmare.
Dumbledore dared not imagine what chaos two deranged Dark Lords might bring upon the world.
It was precisely because of the unusual behaviour displayed by the soul fragment within the Diary that Dumbledore had come to this conclusion.
Among all of Voldemort's Horcruxes, this Diary was likely an exceptionally special one.
Regarding Dumbledore's suspicions, Grindelwald pondered for a long time.
________
(^///^) Please support this fic and also read 12 chapters ahead at Patreon.com/DrakDevil1