Beside the dim corridor.
Ian first ran to a distant spot to cast an Illusionary Body Spell on himself, then hurried back, pressing close to the mottled stone wall, peering inside through the dimly lit door of the shed.
Albus Dumbledore and his brother Abeforth Dumbledore were still in a fierce argument.
"If you hand over the thing now, perhaps I can forgive your rashness."
"I told you it's not with me, then it's not with me. I don't even know what you put inside. Apart from that letter, I saw nothing else inside!"
"No one else but you knows about that letter... Do you believe I won't use Legilimency on you? Or have you become so bastard-like that you'd use an Obliviate on yourself after stealing something?"
"Damn it! Albus! You are the real bastard! It's only because you wouldn't tell me how the letter came about that I got curious and looked for answers in your office myself!"
"Abeforth, it was for your own good. Some truths would only crush your fragile nerves right now... Return the item to me, and I will tell you everything when the time is right."
"I didn't take anything! Here, take your fart bug!"
…
Ian witnessed a spectacular scene, something that other little wizards or even professors could never imagine. As Abeforth seemed to lose his patience and threw a punch, Albus Dumbledore also responded without showing weakness, and they began grappling with each other.
Yes, there was no magic duel, only a return to primitive brawling.
The sound of banging was incessant.
Hard to imagine.
This was a scene one could witness for free in Hogwarts Castle.
A centenarian, the wise and composed Hogwarts Headmaster, and his equally aged brother, brawling like children in the Owl Shed.
"Thud thud thud~"
The owls, startled by the sudden noise, flapped their wings, emitting sharp cries, flying towards the window, seeking to flee from the chaotic scene. Yet the two old men seemed completely absorbed in their world, fiercely fighting, blind to the surrounding chaos.
They likely demonstrated the resilience and tenacity of wizardly life, though not as nimble as younger men, every strike aimed squarely at the face and nose.
No holding back.
Not faking it either.
Ian swore he saw nosebleeds flying wildly in the dim room.
"Oh my god! Teeth! Is that the headmaster's teeth or Abeforth's teeth?" He regretted not having brought equipment to capture the moment; otherwise, he surely would have recorded this scene.
Indeed.
On nocturnal wanderings, one often encounters situations unimaginable during the day, and it seems the various personalities at Hogwarts have a habit of discussing things in secluded places.
Whether from the original story where the Savior trio always happen to overhear secrets occasionally, or Ian's current personal experience, as if proving wizards don't know privacy should be discussed where no one can pass by, he previously witnessed Aurora and Quirrell contacting Voldemort.
"Should I intervene or not?" Ian originally thought the two were arguing about the letter he delivered, contemplating stepping out to say something so others wouldn't suspect his deliveries were hampered; as long as the delivery fee was high enough, next time he could bring out a hundred letters and photos if needed.
A hundred letters each for one person.
However, upon discovering the two old men fighting like children, Ian dared not reveal himself, fearing the two might drag him into their scuffle in a fit of anger.
Beating up the elderly is something Ian couldn't bring himself to do, and observing the way they brawled, he even suspected he might not fare well against centenarian geezers.
"You're mad!"
Albus Dumbledore's silver hair was in disarray during the fight, yet his deep blue eyes remained restrained, while Abeforth was clearly overwhelmed with anger.
"Without your malicious magic! Do you think you could beat me?"
His face twisted with rage, each punch carried a whooshing sound, as if pouring out years of pent-up resentment and anger.
"I know you still hold a deep grudge against me, but that doesn't justify stealing my..." Albus Dumbledore hadn't finished speaking.
Abeforth lunged again.
The bloodied fists were swinging fiercely.
Albus Dumbledore had finally had enough. Previously, his counterattacks had been relatively restrained, but after being provoked by Abeforth, he let loose completely.
It must be said, Albus Dumbledore was, after all, the most outstanding graduate of Gryffindor College, not only powerful in magic but also far superior in combat skills to his brother, who had wasted most of his life.
Abeforth began to be dominated in the fight.
Screams echoed continuously.
Albus Dumbledore seemed not to hear it, continuing to beat Abeforth relentlessly on the ground, making Ian, watching from outside the door, feel his scalp tingle.
He had never seen Albus Dumbledore so out of control.