Wayne explained his plan to Newt.
Developing potions to enhance the fertility of magical creatures and humanoid magical beings like Centaurs was merely a side project. His true goal was to research a potion that could increase the wizarding birth rate.
"Why?" Newt still didn't understand; he'd nearly become a walking encyclopedia of questions today, completely baffled by Wayne's intentions.
"Senior, haven't you noticed how small the wizarding population is?"
"Small? Where is it small? It's always been around this size. I don't see anything wrong with that."
Newt's words made Wayne's fists unconsciously clench. Though there was nothing technically wrong with what he said, it sounded incredibly irritating.
"Think carefully..." Wayne sighed helplessly. "Hundreds of years ago, the British wizarding community had a similar population to now. A thousand years ago, it was smaller, but that was because Hogwarts didn't exist yet and many Muggle-born wizards weren't counted."
"But we're approaching the twenty-first century, and the total wizarding population still hasn't changed at all."
Seeing Newt still didn't understand, Wayne listed some statistics.
"Tenth century - British population around three million."
"Thirteenth century - it became seven million."
"And by the end of the nineteenth century, that number had reached over thirty million. Now it's close to seventy million. Don't you see something?"
Newt's heart jolted with sudden understanding. "That's right! As the Muggle population keeps increasing, the number of young wizards born to Muggle families should be growing too. But why..."
"The number of Muggle-born wizards is indeed increasing, but not as fast as you'd expect."
Wayne shook his head slightly. "But the more critical issue... is the decline of pure-blood wizards."
"I've consulted many ancient texts and asked Nicolas. There were far more than twenty-eight pure-blood families in the past, but most have vanished into the river of history."
The more Newt listened, the more alarmed he became, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
No one had ever considered this problem before. Like him, everyone thought the wizarding population maintaining its current level was normal.
He'd even thought some decrease was reasonable, since Grindelwald had killed so many people back then, and many countries still hadn't recovered.
"Pure-blood families... I haven't noticed any problems with them."
Newt thought carefully. "Look at the Weasleys - they have ten children."
"That's just an exception." The two had entered the castle, and to prevent students from overhearing their conversation, Wayne silenced their voices.
"Take your family, for example. Your generation had you and your brother, two siblings. But your nephew is an only child, and all these years, Rolf hasn't had any brothers or sisters. It can't be that your nephew is... incapable, can it?"
"Think about other families you know. Isn't it the same situation?"
"Stop." Newt smiled bitterly. "If you keep talking, I'll start feeling like... our species is about to go extinct."
"Not that extreme." Wayne also smiled. "The wizarding population has been growing these past two years. Look at the third-year students - there are quite a few more than in our year."
Newt couldn't help but nod. "That's true, but why are you suddenly considering the total wizarding population?"
"There just aren't enough people," Wayne sighed.
Just as he had once told Tom, if wizards went extinct, what kind of Dark Lord would he be?
Only when society prospered and the wizarding population grew would the power in his hands correspondingly increase.
Otherwise, even if he were already at the pinnacle of British wizarding society, having only tens of thousands of wizards total just didn't sound intimidating.
Newt had no idea about Wayne's little schemes; he only cared about how the potion research was progressing.
"Probably not yet," Wayne shook his head slightly. "The potion for the Centaurs also has experimental intentions. Wizards' bodies are even more complex than Centaurs', so let's observe their results first."
"No need to rush. With your talent and skill, success is inevitable."
Newt patted the young man's shoulder reassuringly, but quickly changed the subject. "When you succeed, remember to give me a few bottles."
Wayne immediately showed a teasing smile. "Senior, are you planning to give Rolf a little uncle?"
"Cough!"
Newt choked on his own saliva and pushed him away irritably. "What are you thinking? This is for Leipzig. Now that you mention it, I realise it's time for him to continue the Scamander family line."
"Oh."
Wayne felt somewhat disappointed; he'd thought Newt was experiencing a spring romance.
Seeing his disappointed expression at missing out on gossip, Newt felt too embarrassed to stay with this rascal any longer. After saying a quick goodbye, he hurried away.
Giving Rolf a little uncle... that didn't actually sound too bad?
After bidding farewell to Newt, Wayne had nothing else to attend to that afternoon.
After sending a letter to the Ministry of Magic about Umbridge's situation, he went to find Hermione.
The two went to a nearby Muggle town, where they strolled around to relax while purchasing small gifts like notebooks and sweets to give as Christmas presents.
While shopping in the afternoon, Wayne noticed his eyelids kept twitching uncontrollably, with a strange feeling lingering in his heart.
By dinner time, this sensation had intensified.
Making an excuse, he escorted Hermione back to the Gryffindor common room before quickly returning to his suitcase world to begin divination.
After nearly an hour of effort, he finally obtained results, his expression showing slight surprise.
"Is this... impatience from loneliness?"
...
Nurmengard.
Grindelwald was a man who believed in beginnings and endings.
He remembered being imprisoned here at seven-oh-seven that evening.
Therefore, if he were to leave, it should be at this same time.
The original Squib guard had long been driven elsewhere using the Confundus Charm, effectively sparing the person's life.
When the clock struck seven, Grindelwald exited the high tower.
His ragged prison uniform had transformed into a black double-breasted coat, his messy white hair now cut short—still somewhat untidy, yet reflecting its owner's flamboyant and arrogant nature.
Looking up at this structure he had built, which had then been used to imprison him, Grindelwald felt somewhat ambivalent.
There was a time when he thought he would grow old alone here, perhaps competing with Dumbledore to see who would live longer.
But as it turned out, the outside world remained more interesting.
Seven-oh-seven exactly.
Grindelwald waved his wand, and the earth rumbled with a deafening tremor. The black tower shook violently, shedding large clouds of dust.
A fierce wind burst forth from Grindelwald as its centre, sending the dust spiralling into the sky.
"Earthshaker."
He uttered the word softly, and the shaking intensified. The tower collapsed, its protective enchantments shattered.
With just one spell, the defensive measures jointly constructed by dozens of national Ministries of Magic vanished into thin air.
To mark his rebirth and bid farewell to his prison, Grindelwald chose destruction as the funeral rite for his former dwelling.
A massive fireball rose into the sky, exploding into a firework hundreds of metres in diameter, emitting a feeble wail.
This was the final service the enchantment could render the wizarding world—to alert everyone that Grindelwald was free!
Watching the falling fireballs in the sky, Grindelwald gave a light chuckle. His body twisted, and he Apparated away from Nurmengard.
The moment the enchantment was breached, nearly identical clocks in dozens of national Ministries of Magic trembled violently almost simultaneously, emitting piercing shrieks.
Upon hearing the chimes, the young staff on duty looked utterly bewildered. Older wizards, after a brief moment of stunned silence, suddenly realised what it meant. Their faces turned deathly pale, and their bodies trembled uncontrollably.
"Quick! Fetch the Minister for Magic and the Auror captain! Now!"
"What's happened?" a young wizard asked curiously.
"Stow your damned curiosity! Just do as I say!" the old man screamed hysterically.
In Austria, where Nurmengard stood, the first Aurors arrived shortly after Grindelwald's departure due to their duty of guarding the tower.
They saw the shattered enchantments, the tower reduced to rubble, and the mountain peak half-destroyed.
But crucially, they saw no sign of the prisoner who should have been confined there.
"Clear the debris! Search for bodies!" the squad leader shouted, diving on his broomstick and using magic to push aside fallen rocks.
He clung to a faint hope that this was a natural disaster and that the Dark Lord had perished.
Working together, the dozen Aurors quickly combed through the area, only to reluctantly accept the truth—Grindelwald had truly escaped!
Unlike Britain, where understanding of Grindelwald's nature was limited, these Aurors had grown up hearing their elders' tales about him.
Some were descendants of his followers, but most... came from families who had resisted him.
All faces were pale, and in each other's eyes, they saw terror and confusion.
The Aurors never dreamed that Grindelwald would break out of prison!
"Captain, what do we do now?" one Auror asked with difficulty.
"Return to the Ministry. Notify other nations. This is beyond our handling," the captain said, immediately Apparating away. The other Aurors hurried to follow, fearful of being left behind even for a second.
Fifteen minutes later.
Hundreds of owls flew out from the Austrian Ministry of Magic, carrying messages in all directions. Every off-duty wizard received urgent notices demanding their immediate return to the Ministry.
The Austrian Minister for Magic slumped in his chair, then his eyes lit up as he thought of something.
"That's it! Dumbledore!"
"He defeated Grindelwald back then; he can do it again now!"
"Quickly, go to London and fetch Mr Dumbledore!"
"Minister..." His assistant rummaged through cabinets and produced a several days old copies of the British Daily Prophet, spreading it open on the desk.
"Have you forgotten? Dumbledore is now a wanted criminal. Nobody knows where he is!"
The Austrian Minister for Magic stared at the newspaper photograph and the 100,000 Galleon bounty, remaining stunned for a moment before throwing his head back and roaring:
"Fudge! I'll fuck your grandmother!"
...
Paris.
After leaving Nurmengard, when Grindelwald Apparated, the first place that appeared in his mind was here.
He didn't dwell on it too much, following his instinct and appearing on the street.
Champs-Élysées.
A man suddenly materialising on the street startled the surrounding pedestrians, making them all think they were seeing things.
Grindelwald paid them no mind, strolling along the familiar yet unfamiliar streets on his own.
Seventy years ago, it was here that he had announced his return, gathering his followers from that point onward and launching a war to secure rights for wizards.
It was also here that he had lost the blood troth that meant most to him.
Stolen through the combined efforts of that dishonourable pair, Newt and Nicolas Flamel.
Grindelwald's eyes darkened.
Just thinking about that old freckle-face Newt immediately halved his good mood at regaining freedom.
Surveying the surrounding buildings, compared to decades ago, there were more structures here now, and they stood taller.
Last time, his fire had nearly destroyed half of Paris.
Now, with Newt absent, and having heard from Lawrence that Nicolas Flamel had also gone to Britain...
If he wanted to destroy this city, probably no one could stop him?
Suddenly, Grindelwald's gaze sharpened, locking onto a youth standing in the middle of the street watching him from several dozen metres away.
How did Lawrence know he was here?!
Though inwardly panicked, Grindelwald showed no fear outwardly, instead striding toward the youth.
When they were four or five metres apart, he spoke.
"Have you come to capture me?"
Wayne revealed a gentle smile, placing his index finger to his lips.
In an instant, the entire world fell into stillness.