Accompanied by Ian's departure.
The disheveled bookstore regained its undisturbed tranquility.
The sun gradually set.
The sky was gently painted with an orange hue, and the earth quietly donned the elegant attire of night. Aurora Grindelwald turned on the lights and continued to read the notebook titled "Analysis and Study of Rune Language."
Light and shadow intertwined among the bookshelves.
The subtle sound of pages turning occasionally echoed within the shop.
Although the German Girl had told Ian that the bookstore owner Craft would soon return, it wasn't until late into the starlit night that his figure finally appeared.
"Click~"
With the onset of dusk.
The bookstore's door had already been closed by Aurora, the old man pushed the door open and gently removed his old hat from his head, its brim still carrying some dust and the creases left by the wind outside.
"Miss, you're not resting yet?"
The bookstore owner Craft's tone was rather respectful and did not seem at all like the manner of an elder, his voice carrying a hint of fatigue that was hard to conceal.
"It's still early."
Aurora did not look up, continuing to read the notebook spread across her lap while speaking in a slightly curious tone.
"Moreover, I also want to know what message my grandfather conveyed to you that made you rush out in panic, only to return late at night with an exhausted expression."
Facing the heir of the Grindelwald Clan, Craft merely pressed his lips together and shook his head, not providing the answer Aurora hoped to hear.
"Some matters are not yet your concern."
This was actually the answer Aurora had anticipated.
Her expression and focus remained unchanged as she continued to study the book atop her knees.
"Fatigue is inevitable, most of us Saints are already old, no longer brimming with vitality like in our youth... I don't even know if there's still time to see the day our ideals come to fruition."
Craft sighed heavily, slowly removing his thick robe and hanging it on the coat rack by the door.
Even such a simple action left him slightly out of breath.
"My talent isn't as dazzling as my grandfather's, nor do I possess his ambitious vision, placing your hopes in me will only leave you ultimately restless in your graves, adding regrets and disappointment."
Aurora raised her head.
Her eyes, with their odd colors, gazed at Craft.
Craft felt a moment of disorientation.
For an instant.
He thought he had returned to the era of dreams and passion... but unfortunately, Aurora's words brought him back to reality.
Everything has passed.
The great leader has lost his freedom.
The infinitely splendid Saints have also become candles in the wind.
"No, it won't be like that."
Craft was not annoyed, instead, he spoke with firm conviction.
"Your grandfather believes you can complete the work he left unfinished, you will surpass him, he has already paved the road for you, and you will succeed under our protection."
Craft's voice was filled with fervor.
Aurora fell into silence.
She wanted to refute.
Yet.
She also understood.
To the Saints.
Her grandfather was almost akin to a belief.
Not to mention refuting.
Even a slight disagreement would draw the resistance of the Saints.
"Entrusting such heavy responsibility to a child, don't you find it a bit cruel?" Aurora sighed softly, a trace of sorrow flickering in her eyes.
"Being able to say such things shows you are no longer a child," Craft lowered his voice in response, his demeanor consistently humble.
Nevertheless.
This humility did not stem from loyalty to Aurora, but was rooted in loyalty to Aurora's grandfather.
"Bearing the Grindelwald surname, from the moment of your birth, you were destined to undertake an extraordinary mission." These words were heavy, yet indeed an inescapable truth.
Aurora understood this well.
"I don't believe I can lead you to rise."
Aurora spoke earnestly.
Craft chuckled lightly, indifferent.
"Lord Grindelwald foresaw such a future, for us Saints, that is enough." Craft's cloudy eyes appeared exceptionally bright.
That light.
Could be summarised as hope.
"Perhaps, his current self-imprisonment, the pain endured in the past, was all paving the way for you, all for greater good in deceiving Dumbledore!"
That's the fanatic.
Always able to comfort themselves with a seemingly harmonious "reasonable" explanation for things they find difficult to accept. Aurora knew she could not change Craft's mind.
Just as.
In the past ten years or so.
She couldn't change the other Saints who "accompanied" her growing up either.
Sometimes, Aurora truly admired her grandfather. She couldn't fathom what kind of personal charisma could make a group of people remain loyal to him even after he had been gone for so many years.
They still believed he possessed god-like power.
"Let's talk about something else."
Aurora did not want to comment too much on why her grandfather was imprisoned.
She had only met him three or four times.
Powerful, elegant, gentle.
These were Aurora's deepest impressions of Gellert Grindelwald.
As for familial ties...
"Has Dumbledore not agreed to my admission yet?"
Aurora changed the topic.
"Dumbledore is a despicable guy, but since we're on his turf, you should at least show some surface respect for your future headmaster."
Craft seriously reminded her, then responded in a very assured tone, "Rest assured, there's no need to worry about being unable to attend Hogwarts."
"Although we don't think this school is qualified to cultivate you, your grandfather wants you to study here, so Dumbledore will not be an obstacle to your admission."
"That damn guy will eventually agree."
Mentioning Dumbledore made Craft grit his teeth.
About this matter.
You can find similar issues almost with any Saint.
Aurora had already become accustomed to it.
"That's good."
She went back to reading the notes in her hand.
The entire bookstore returned to quiet.
Craft raised his wand to clean his coat, then, while preparing to move towards the back room, he noticed the three Rune Language textbooks still piled on the counter.
"Has that little boy come by?"
Craft picked up the three books with interest and took a look, seeing few signs of having been read, it seemed that the three books hadn't been read for long after being bought.
"He came to sell books."
Aurora answered concisely.
"He's a cunning little kid, much more clever than his peers. You weren't fooled by him, were you?" Craft tossed the three books toward the bookshelf.
"Shuffle~"
Without the guidance of magic.
Craft's aim was indeed somewhat lacking.
All three books fell to the ground.
Craft didn't even consider or have the urge to cast a spell to save them.
Aurora looked up thoughtfully.
"I gave him a gold coin."
Her voice sounded no different from usual, youthful and clear, emotionally stable.
"I didn't expect, didn't expect, you actually outwitted that cunning brat!"
Craft, hearing this, looked at Aurora with some surprise, then couldn't help but laugh heartily, raising his withered arm to give Aurora a thumbs up.
"I think he's not bad; he said he wanted to be friends with me."
Aurora's cold face showed no expression. However, she, who usually liked to place books on her knees while reading, now lifted the entire notebook to read.
"Hmm?"
Craft didn't notice anything unusual, focusing on a different matter.
"Does that kid know your identity, miss?"
The smile on Craft's face had vanished, replaced by a squinting vigilance.
"Yes."
Aurora raised the notebook a bit higher.
"We exchanged names; his name is Ian Prince."
The girl's tone was as calm as ever.
"Hmm, seems he's a Muggle-born wizard."
Craft slightly frowned.
He didn't doubt Aurora's social skills, but Aurora's grandfather had long since made the surname 'Grindelwald' a revered name among wizards.
Grindelwald might not have the fearful renown of Voldemort, but if the young wizard came from a wizarding family, he would definitely know what this surname really meant.
"Both his parents are wizards."
The girl suddenly corrected.
Craft was slightly taken aback.
"Did you see this?"
Craft's gaze turned to Aurora's eyes.
His eyes once again showed a fervor.
"He knows what Grindelwald means, and moreover..."
Aurora recalled her conversation with Ian before he left during the day. As she buried her head back into her notes, her tone was calm yet shocking.
"He said he wants to become the Black Demon King."