"Do you know why Albus didn't come himself?"
After listening to Severus's account, Grindelwald instead posed a question completely unrelated to Vinda and the others.
Severus hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"Dumbledore said it's because some people in the Wizarding World are reluctant to see him maintain excessive contact with you. It would make some sensitive individuals overthink."
"That's certainly one aspect, but not the main reason."
Grindelwald was still smiling.
"The real reason he doesn't want to come is guilt."
"Guilt?" Severus repeated.
Grindelwald turned to look out the window. The night sky was clear tonight, the brilliant stars clearly visible.
"You were once a Death Eater."
He pointed out Severus's identity.
Severus wasn't surprised at all. He shrugged and admitted, "I did have a crazy master eight years ago."
"Tom Riddle is a genius."
Grindelwald did not hold back his praise for the dark wizard who had instilled fear in the Wizarding World after him.
"His talent in magic far surpassed anyone I've known. Even Albus falls short of him in some aspects."
"He might have had more ambition than me, was better at finding the right angles to win people over, but... when he truly began to realize his ambitions, he grew increasingly mad, deviating from his original plan."
Grindelwald stared at Severus.
"I'm certain he learned from my failure early on. If multiple major Ministries of Magic unite, the resistance is something no one can withstand. So, from the start, he focused his main target only on Britain."
"Only he didn't maintain his initial intellect and talent. His madness frightened even some of those who would have supported him."
"So over decades, he never managed to completely control all of Britain, until... that prophecy came to pass."
Severus raised an eyebrow at this. Grindelwald's assessment was mostly accurate. Voldemort was indeed a classic case of wise in the early days and tyrannical in the later ones.
'But Grindelwald clearly wasn't aware of the Horcrux situation.'
"Pure-blood ideology is too extreme," Grindelwald commented calmly, "If it were the Riddle of the early days when he conceived this idea, he might have gradually refined his theory later. But the later him not only failed to do so, he grew increasingly crazy, to the point where his rule was based entirely on his personal power, not on a vision that served the benefit of the vast majority."
"In our youth, Albus and I wanted to build a world against the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy. We proposed two urgent tasks."
"Find and possess all the three Deathly Hallows, and master the power of the Master of Death."
"Overthrow the Statute of Secrecy, establish a new order led by wise and powerful witches and wizards, ruling the entire world, including Muggles, with benevolence."
"The first plan was preparation for the second. At that time, wizards with similar ideas were far from just us. Countless of our compatriots shared our disdain for that Statute of Secrecy, including Vinda and the others."
He looked at Severus with a smile.
"But Albus betrayed our original intention. This is the main reason he is ashamed to see me, even after defeating me."
"And for Vinda and the others, even after my failure, they never forgot why they united. This is very different from the Death Eaters, isn't it? Riddle's loyal followers now are just a bunch of madmen. They can do nothing but destroy."
Grindelwald didn't seem to mind chatting more with Severus.
He had been confined in this tower alone for a long time. It was rare for someone to visit, especially someone from Dumbledore's side. He spoke about the black history of Dumbledore's past betrayal without scruples.
By now, Severus understood.
Grindelwald's smile upon hearing about the Alliance's actions wasn't because he knew someone was coming to rescue him, but because he was pleased that his past ideals were still remembered by a group of old followers.
Unlike Voldemort, who relied on personal power to forge authority, Grindelwald had relied on an ideal that most wizards once recognized.
"Since you're glad they still remember your shared ideals, why do you still imprison yourself here?"
Severus asked a rather personal question.
If Grindelwald hadn't told him so much earlier, he wouldn't have planned to ask.
But after noticing the old man seemed in the mood for chatting, he took the initiative to ask.
However, Grindelwald did not answer.
He simply turned to look at the crescent moon in the night sky and said softly,
"They are about to arrive. Since Albus sent you, I'd like to ask you to do something for me as well."
Seeing the words inscribed at the entrance of Nurmengard, several old wizards were already moved to tears.
All these years, they had never forgotten why they had gathered.
Many major events had occurred in the European Wizarding World over these years, almost making them abandon the plan Vinda had originally organized.
But in the end, they had succeeded!
They had made full preparations, bringing Nicolas Flamel and the original blueprints from when this prison was built, returning here.
Vinda tried to steady her breathing. She turned to look at Nicolas Flamel.
"This isn't a natural prison like Azkaban. It was entirely built by the joint cooperation goblins and wizards, a man-made product incorporating numerous alchemical techniques! You can dismantle it, right? No one in the world surpasses you in alchemical achievement!"
Nicolas Flamel, however, did not answer her. He just gazed at the high tower with emotion.
At the very top of the tower, a faint, flickering light shone, as if it could be blown out by the wind at any moment.
"Have any of you been here before?"
Vinda stared intently at him.
"We can't open that door!"
"That's because he doesn't actually want to see you." Nicolas's words caused a stir among the surrounding old wizards.
There were goblins in the crowd issuing loud threats, and dark wizards drawing their wands.
But Vinda only said coldly, "We are already here, Nicolas. There's no need for such talk to waste time. We only want one result."
Nicolas smiled. He extended his arm, which is dry and gnarled like an old tree branch, and pointed toward the prison entrance.
"This is the result you wanted."
Everyone present turned to look in the direction he pointed.
The prison gate, unnoticed by anyone, had been pushed open from the inside.
And a figure, all too familiar to Vinda, dressed in black robes, with a short ponytail, stood before the opened door!