This was, without a doubt, the most exhilarating start-of-term feast the young wizards had ever experienced. After such a thrilling and perilous adventure, everyone had a hundred stories to tell.
The newly arrived first-years were utterly astounded. Some of the Muggle-born wizards immediately grasped the vast difference between the wizarding world and the Muggle world.
Especially those who had performed exceptionally well during the recent incident; even the most timid of them, like Neville, glowed with a hero's pride.
However, after Professor McGonagall finished the Sorting Ceremony for the new students and Dumbledore returned to the school to deliver his opening address, a bucket of cold water was seemingly dumped upon them, and everyone quieted down.
"I am quite displeased with your performance," Dumbledore declared, his hands resting upon the extending owl carvings on the rostrum. His tall figure loomed over the young wizards below, his half-moon spectacles gleaming with sharp intensity.
"Your reactions to the sudden emergency were, at best, passable. So many of you know the Patronus Charm, yet you could only be driven by Dementors to hide in your compartments. I daresay Professor Lockhart's lessons were utterly wasted."
The young wizards below were utterly flabbergasted. They had never witnessed such an aggressive Dumbledore. In fact, even the professors hadn't.
Professor Snape's eyes narrowed as he glanced at Professor McGonagall, only to see her rolling her eyes with a strange expression. He then looked back at Lockhart, who was silently mouthing a name: "Grindelwald."
"!!!"
Snape had heard tales of the formidable Dark Wizard since childhood, but he'd never truly grasped the extent of his power. Now, he truly felt it. He couldn't even tell that this 'Dumbledore' was someone else in disguise! What a terrifying Transfiguration, without even a hint of magical fluctuation!
'Dumbledore' surveyed the expressions of every young wizard with solemn authority, observing the indignant Harry, the dejected Percy, and others, offering no comment. He caressed the carved wooden object in his palm and spoke again, "Magic is not a child's game!"
"To cast the Fiendfyre curse, you must have the unwavering resolve to kill your opponent. To use a Patronus Charm, you must possess the belief to protect everything, regardless of your own safety or gain..." He shook his head. "I am not satisfied with any of the magic you performed. I saw no moment where your hearts burst forth with brilliant light!"
"It was all a joke!"
Old Gellert was truly heartbroken. Truly. He'd only been imprisoned for a few decades, and how had the world changed so drastically?! Not to mention his era, when he waged war against the Statute of Secrecy, even before that, wizards constantly struggled with Muggles, magical creatures, goblins, centaurs, and each other...
Simply granting peace to the new generation, in just two or three generations, the social atmosphere had decayed to such an extent that wizards actually treated magic as a game? Since when did "wizard" cease to be synonymous with danger, mystery, and ill omen? And Lockhart, this young fellow, had even come up with notions like "magic is the ultimate romance of fairy tales"? Oh, such an idea could even be considered quite profound, beyond the reach of most.
He observed the young wizards in the school and felt as if he had entered a nursery. They no longer bore the heavy burden of their community's survival. Their lives were filled with play, frolic, Quidditch matches, and the most rebellious acts were merely "night wanderings" or pranks. Hogwarts annually led new students on the founders' old path of establishing the school, yet it had long forgotten the founders' true purpose.
He was initially quite pleased when he heard the young wizards discussing how his alma mater, Durmstrang Institute, still preserved wizarding traditions, even as they cursed it as a "Dark wizard school." But then, after Dumbledore recounted the current state of that school under Headmaster Igor Karkaroff, he despaired completely.
This wasn't just about the times changing. This was about the entire wizarding world losing its fighting spirit. If, one day, the Muggle world suddenly revealed the existence of wizards, and politicians had to face the Muggles' fears for their own safety, leading to another witch hunt, he dared say that most wizards would be utterly defenseless.
Peace? Ha! Now, it truly seemed laughable! Dumbledore's arduous efforts to maintain peace in wizarding society for decades had indeed led to a population boom, but whether it was a good thing was still debatable. The widespread decline and demise of pure-blood families were being replaced by a surge of Muggle-born wizards, and a terrifying internal tearing force was silently gathering strength within wizarding society. With this, how could they contend with the rapidly advancing Muggle technology?
There was no hope; they were simply waiting for death! What a heartache! Grindelwald watched this scene unfold, feeling an immense anguish. Taking advantage of Dumbledore's absence at the Wizengamot, he returned to the school, intending to give the new generation a strong dose of reality. He couldn't go too far. Saying things in Dumbledore's name wouldn't bother Dumbledore, but doing something might be another matter. Grindelwald understood this well.
He gazed at everyone with a detached expression, as if surveying the myriad items in a junkyard, and sneered, "Many speak of the so-called Dark Lord, how terrible and powerful he is, but remember this: he, too, came from Hogwarts."
"What he could do, you can do too."
"But can you truly?"
His gaze sharpened. "Voldemort, Tom Riddle, graduated from Hogwarts in 1945. Nearly fifty years have passed. Can Hogwarts no longer cultivate a powerful wizard? I refuse to believe it!"
"The school hasn't changed, the professors haven't changed, the teaching philosophy hasn't changed, and the curriculum has been updated with the times. What does that signify?"
"The problem lies with you!"
"This school, originally established to train wizarding guardians and warriors against witch hunts, now has students who have long forgotten their mission, caring only for play and amusement."
He slammed his hand down on the podium, his gaze shifting from detached to icy. "Professor Lockhart told me that times have changed, but I completely disagree. The times haven't changed. War has always continued, whether it be that evil Voldemort or some segment of Muggles who might harbor ill will towards wizards in the future."
"Just like this attack on the way to school, I hope you truly reflect on what you would do if it happened again."
He knew exactly how to make the young wizards take this to heart. "Think carefully, what would you do if this attack happened at your home, with your parents, your family, everyone you care about right there?"
Such a thought was clearly a heavy burden. Professor McGonagall strongly disagreed with such a heavy weight being placed upon the young wizards; these were matters for adults to consider. Nevertheless, she didn't argue with him at the opening feast.
"Professor Lockhart!" 'Dumbledore' suddenly turned, looking at Lockhart, who was whispering to Snape, a slight smirk playing on his lips. "Regarding this, I would like to ask you to come up and speak with the young wizards. May I?"
"May your sister!" Lockhart had no doubt that if he said anything amiss, Dumbledore's wrath towards Grindelwald would immediately transfer to him. Old Gellert was both cowardly and playful; he was trying to make him take the blame!
Alright, alright. You want to play, do you? Bring it on!
He stood up, strode forward, and stood directly beside Grindelwald, looking at the young wizards with a gentle expression. He looked at Harry, at Ron, at Hermione, at Draco, at Crabbe, at every single young wizard's face.
"Professor Dumbledore is not only the Headmaster of Hogwarts but also the Chief Warlock of the International Confederation of Wizards; he has many concerns."
"I, however, am different. I am a humble individual, and I am happy to make my due contribution to this era, yet I harbor no great ambition to guide everyone."
"I merely wish to tell you, as a wizard, how I view magic."
"Students..." His smile was so warm that the tense young wizards finally relaxed.
"Magic comes from life; it doesn't only exist in conflict. Yes, conflict is undoubtedly the most powerful way to birth magic. Battle will always be the main theme for beings like humans, whether they are wizards or Muggles."
"But I hope you will focus more on life, because magic exists in every corner, every moment of life."
"It should be beautiful, born from life, and in turn, make our lives more interesting."
"It should also be thrilling. Every interesting adventure in life holds the opportunity for magic to be conceived. Open your hearts and truly feel it; you will find that it can bring you endless power."
"Therefore, I say that the times have changed, not for the worse, but for the better."
"We can finally escape the atmosphere of confrontation and explore the marvelous world of magic. Its wonder exists in the relationship between self and others, in the relationship between self and nature, in the relationship between self and all living beings in the world."
"This is the opportunity brought by the new era, allowing us to explore a more harmonious path, both in life and in magic."
Lockhart smiled broadly at everyone. "I am honored to have been invited by Professor McGonagall to explore this possibility with you all over the coming school year, starting with the harmonious coexistence of humans and magical creatures."
"I will be the Professor of Care of Magical Creatures at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Of course, I know you are all very familiar with me, even our new students."
"So, there's no need for me to introduce myself again, is there?"
The feast finally sprang back to life. Everyone cheered excitedly, some shouting "Idol!", some "Professor!", some "Magic Master!", some "International Best-selling Author!"...
Lockhart pressed his hands down, quieting them, a smile of an unreadable meaning on his face. "So, I hope to take this opportunity to introduce to you the assistant for my course. As you know, Dumbledore is always pleased to provide me with a powerful assistant."
Grindelwald suddenly had a bad feeling; the smile on his face tightened abruptly as he stared intensely at Lockhart. But it was too late; Lockhart spoke with increasing excitement, his words coming in a torrent. He raised his hand, gesturing towards the faculty table, "The Mysterious Gentleman, I wish you to call him that! Please give him a warm welcome!"
The advantage of having fanatical admirers was that the young wizards didn't care who the assistant was. If Professor Lockhart told them to welcome someone, they would applaud wildly. The hall grew so fervent it seemed ready to lift the roof. As Lockhart shouted, "Mysterious Gentleman! Mysterious Gentleman!" everyone joined in, chanting, "Mysterious Gentleman! Mysterious Gentleman! Mysterious Gentleman!..."
So, who was the Mysterious Gentleman?
Everyone looked in unison in the direction Professor Lockhart had just indicated, and there, they clearly saw an unfamiliar figure standing quietly. With handsome, neatly combed white hair, dressed in an exquisite and proper suit, possessing a pair of captivating, mismatched eyes, and an aged face that held an indescribable haughtiness and elegance.
This was... Grindelwald?
Professor Flitwick and a few other professors who knew old Gellert were stunned. Even though he differed slightly from his former dashing and influential self, the person before them was so remarkably familiar. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape were also stunned, exchanging glances, looking at Dumbledore standing by the rostrum, then back at Grindelwald sitting there.
"???"
"A Boggart!" By the rostrum, Dumbledore's mouth twitched. He looked rather displeased at Lockhart. Lockhart merely smiled back at him, as if to say—Is this fun?