Gellert's fingers lightly brushed the edge of the envelope, as if he could feel the warmth and emotion from afar.
A moment later, he broke the seal, preparing to immerse himself fully in this reply that had spanned forty years.
However, when he poured out the contents, he found only a slip of paper as thin as a cicada's wing and a Muggle photograph.
His brow furrowed slightly as he hurriedly opened the note. Scrawled upon it were just a few words: "We are well, do not worry."
Gellert stared blankly for a moment, then couldn't help but burst into laughter.
His laughter was tinged with helplessness and a hint of irrepressible annoyance.
Was this the letter that the great genius Albus had spent three whole days contemplating and writing?
Just this?
Gellert took a deep breath and shifted his focus to the photograph.
It was taken at Blenheim Palace. A white-bearded old man with a face full of kind smiles was holding an innocent, adorable little girl and waving at the camera.
Gellert stared at the two faces in the photo, unable to look away for a long time.
He scrutinized the marks left by time on the old man's face, searching for the high-spirited figure he once knew. At the same time, he noted the little girl's eyes—as cunning as his own—and imagined a future for her filled with hope and dreams.
As the minutes ticked by, Gellert sat in silence, looking at the photo and losing himself in memories and reverie.
After an unknown amount of time, he let out a soft sigh, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Perhaps, for Albus, such a simple greeting was enough to express the depths of his heart.
With that thought, Gellert decided to let go of his resentment and forgive Albus for this somewhat hasty letter.
After all, what he valued was not the form, but the concern and friendship that still existed across time and space.
That same evening, Dumbledore received a reply from Nurmengard.
To Mr. Albus Dumbledore:
As the current head of the Grindelwald Family, I find myself deeply interested in and concerned about the family member named Adelaide Grindelwald.
She is like a brilliant star shining in the darkness, radiating a unique and captivating light that makes me yearn to know everything about her.
As Adelaide's current guardian, you bear an undeniable responsibility and duty.
I must insist that you provide me with a detailed report on Adelaide's growth at regular intervals. This is not only vital to the future of our entire family but is also a matter of great personal anticipation for me.
To that end, I am making a formal request: I expect you to send a letter written by your own hand at the beginning of every month (no later than the 5th).
The content of these letters must be detailed and comprehensive, and the word count must not be less than three hundred words.
In this way, through your written descriptions, I will be able to clearly perceive every detail of Adelaide's experiences, as well as her progress and breakthroughs during this time.
I trust that with your keen observation and vivid prose, you will be able to bring Adelaide's growth to life before my eyes.
August 21, 1984
Gellert Grindelwald, serving his sentence at Nurmengard, Austria.
Dumbledore looked at the letter in his hand, his mouth twitching involuntarily. He could hardly believe his eyes—Gellert was actually assigning him homework!
And it was a monthly English essay on observing a child's growth.
Was this fellow so bored in prison? Why else would he come up with such an absurd request!
Did he think he had nothing better to do?
Just as Dumbledore was about to set the letter aside, his gaze inadvertently swept over the signature line—"Gellert Grindelwald, serving his sentence at Nurmengard, Austria."
Seeing that signature, a complex swirl of emotions welled up in Dumbledore's heart.
Once, they had been inseparable lovers and partners, but they had parted ways due to their differing ideologies.
Now, Gellert was imprisoned. Perhaps he felt lonely and isolated in his long years of confinement, which was why he had made such a seemingly strange request.
Sigh. He had been so busy with official duties over the years that he hadn't paid much attention to Nurmengard. He had no idea what Gellert's current situation was like.
Back then, Gellert had been young and headstrong, offending far too many people. Life in prison likely wasn't easy... Thinking of this, Dumbledore's originally hardened heart instantly softened.
Three hundred words wasn't much for a detailed record of someone's growth.
Dumbledore took two envelopes and several sheets of parchment from his drawer, leaned over his desk, and began to write furiously.
The first was his reply to Gellert. Between the lines, he expressed his acceptance and support for the request, stating that he would write on time to record every detail of Adelaide's growth as requested.
The recipient of the other letter was Edward Burke, who was far away in London, busy with preparations.
In the letter, Dumbledore clearly assigned a task to Edward Burke: starting this coming September, he must write a weekly journal entry about Adelaide and submit it to him on time.
Furthermore, each weekly entry had to be at least five hundred words long to ensure a comprehensive and in-depth record of Adelaide's experiences, changes, and growth during that period.
Only then could he conveniently extract the key information and organize it into a letter for Gellert.
After finishing the two letters, Dumbledore gently blew the ink dry and stacked them neatly together. He knew that these letters not only carried his entrustments and expectations but would also become an indispensable part of witnessing Adelaide's path of growth.
Meanwhile, in London, Edward Burke, who was frazzled by house renovations and studying for his driver's license, suddenly felt a chill. He didn't think much of it, assuming it was just a slight cold from overwork, unaware that this was the lament of his altered destiny regarding his future busy life as a nanny.
The next morning, Edward Burke received Dumbledore's letter.
When he unfolded the parchment and read the contents, he was completely stunned.
"A weekly journal of no less than five hundred words? You've got to be kidding me!"
In that moment, Edward felt as if he were back at Hogwarts. Whenever a Professor assigned an excessively heavy load of homework, he would feel just as frantic.
Despite his utter reluctance, Dumbledore's order was like the homework of his childhood—it could not be disobeyed. He could only try to complete it.
If he wrote the letters larger and spaced them out more, Dumbledore might not notice if he was a few words short.
While one man suffered, another rejoiced. Just as Edward Burke was painfully recalling how he used to pad the length of his essays, Gellert, on the top floor of Nurmengard, was in high spirits after reading the reply, dancing a Waltz around his table with the letter in hand.
It didn't matter if the plan was implemented early, nor did it matter if Albus's guilt wasn't strong enough. As long as he added a pathetic-sounding prefix to his signature to trigger Albus's imagination, the other man would obediently compromise with his unreasonable demands.
Phase one of the plan: a complete success!
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