HP Approaches the Magical World

In a world full of sadness and indifference, love is always a term that can warm people's hearts.

Of course, Dumbledore was also betting. He was betting that since Grindelwald would close himself back then, he would still be.

Or there is another layer of reason.

The lifespan of legendary wizards is not much longer than that of ordinary wizards, and their pursuit of higher realms continues unabated, so he feels that the current Grindelwald may pay more attention to the improvement of his realm instead of returning to the magic world to stir up trouble. The wind stirs the rain.

If you really want to do something, you should come and see yourself first.

Snape left worriedly, and Dumbledore wanted to write again, but didn't know where to start.

Originally Snape didn't say anything, he just pretended he didn't know about it, Gellert had been there for so long, so there was no need to make a fuss if he wanted to come out for a walk.

Dumbledore felt that he should trust Gellert, as he said before.

And now the matter of Gellert is actually not important in front of Voldemort.

He wanted to find Gellert very conveniently. Within a certain distance, legendary wizards could sense each other's existence, unless the stronger party deliberately concealed their existence - but Gellert did not do this.

And the connection of the blood alliance, even now, still has not disappeared.

Grindelwald didn't hide what he meant, he might even be hoping that Dumbledore would take the initiative to find him.

Either way, it was fine, after all these years, he wasn't afraid to face Gellert again.

But - Dumbledore pulled a new parchment - he should have warned the Muggles.

...

If there's one thing Gellert Grindelwald fears the most right now, it's undoubtedly facing Dumbledore again.

He had been autistic in Nurmengard for nearly fifty years, and his thoughts of Dumbledore continued unabated, but after he got out of there, he only came to the Dark Forest.

Nearly nostalgia is more timid, and he is not ready to face his Albus now.

At this time, he was sitting on the branch of a tree, and the dark wizards below were busy with the ingredients and dark dishes for the celebration. Ilsa stood beside her in the air with a cane.

"Great disaster, may you have mercy on the world."

Such ballads came from far away in the forest. The ancient Norse language was transmitted in the forest accompanied by the flowing music played by the traditional harp, stirring up the silver moonlight.

But the time has not yet come.

The blessings of the full moon tour will reach their peak at midnight. Compared with the huge power at that time, these before are just appetizers.

"The tradition of revering disasters and disasters is probably only heard here."

Grindelwald said with emotion, and Ilsa on the side also echoed.

"No one wants to forget traditional things, but only us old guys remember them."

Ilsa is older than Grindelwald, and standing beside Grindelwald, she looks like an old servant in a noble family.

In fact, black wizards are just members of the wizarding community, and they are not unwilling to abide by the order—as long as the order is reasonable for them.

"However, in such a beautiful moonlight, only ancient songs are too monotonous."

The two of them tacitly did not mention anything about the "resurgence of the great cause". Grindelwald suddenly became interested when he heard the ballad in the distance: "Ilsa, is there a piano here?"

"Of course, you wait."

There is no doubt, as long as Grindelwald wants, let alone the piano,

Even human head drums can be obtained.

Ilsa's figure flickered for a moment, as if she had never left, and then she lowered her head: "In two minutes, a piano will arrive. Where do you want to play this time?"

"Not urgent."

Grindelwald looked at the bright and clear moon, and said unhurriedly: "If you have anything to say, just say it."

"There is nothing important. Your return is our blessing. All these old guys have died over the years..."

Ilsa is a little sad and authentic. She has lived for a long time, and she doesn't know how long she can live, but the owner in front of her still looks so young, and she doesn't look like someone who has been polished by time.

She rambled on about the dark wizards who left these years, as well as Voldemort's rise, defeat, escape, coming to the dark forest and leaving here, and when it came to leaving, she added: "Nagini also followed That Voldemort went with him."

"Nagini?"

Grindelwald was stunned for a moment, and then remembered: "You said Credence's lover who was cursed with blood, didn't she want to guard Credence's body here and wait for Nirvana? How could she be suddenly killed by Voldemort?" Take it away?"

"I don't know, but Credence's body is still placed under the Dark Mother Tree according to your instructions. Are you sure he can really Nirvana?"

"I'm not sure, but people are dead anyway, so give it a try."

Grindelwald glanced at the thickest dark mother tree in the center of the forest, and immediately found his bandstand.

"Just right there."

He murmured softly and waved his hands. Many branches grew rapidly around the mother tree, creating a platform in mid-air. Before he could speak, a black wizard had already flown to it with a piano and chairs, and the arrangement was ready. everything.

Grindelwald floated to the platform, brushed his clothes with his fingers, and bowed slightly.

Greet the bright moon in the sky.

Then he sat on the chair, closed his eyes, and pressed the keys in front of him.

In the pure white light, a stone suddenly fell, causing soft but firm ripples that spread in all directions, carrying the power of music.

It is not to convince people with strength, but to seek like-minded people.

Grindelwald likes to play the piano. For him, music has a special magic power, so when the first note is pressed, all his mind is focused on the black and white keys in front of him.

The movement in the memory seems to come alive, the tenderness of meditation, the sad recitation, and the dark premonition are all slowly unfolded and transmitted in Grindelwald's performance.

The whole forest listens in silence.

The pure sound of the piano, like a lotus flower blooming in the mud, spread out in the moonlight with a delicate and quiet melody with a little melancholy.

The voice and the moon in the sky reflected each other, and the light was extremely soft, calmly spreading a bright and flawless light into this frantic and dark celebration.

In the promotion of this music, the highest peak of this full moon tour also came.

As if congratulating the lucky one who received the greatest gift, Grindelwald's piano sound became even more beautiful.

Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata is hereby presented.