Dumbledore is famous for defeating the Dark Lord Grindelwald in 1945.

"Who else will love you? Dumbledore?"

"You're all alone now."

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"Hmm...it's so sunny!"

A boy wearing a brown vest rubbed his brown curly hair on the grass.

The sunlight overhead filtered through the layers of leaves, casting a brilliant halo on my fingertips.

Wait, my own hand?

Dumbledore suddenly realized what was happening, touched his face, and then looked down at his fair, youthful hands.

No, didn't I just retire yesterday?

What exactly happened?

A gentle breeze rustled overhead as Dumbledore stood there, looking around in bewilderment.

In the distance, wisps of smoke rise from the chimney of a duplex cabin, and memories of my childhood begin to flood back like a tide.

Godric's Hollow, Ariana, Aberforth, and... Grindelwald.

"Brother! Brother's home for dinner!"

Aberforth's loud voice at the foot of the mountain interrupted Dumbledore's train of thought.

He patted his trouser legs and hurried down the mountain.

"Brother, are you alright?"

Abufoss looked at his brother's face with some concern, but was relieved to see that he didn't have much worry on his face.

A few weeks ago, a surge of magic within Ariana led to the death of their mother.

From that time on, Dumbledore took over his mother's task of caring for Ariana.

The family has been grieving for a long time because of the mother's passing.

Ariana was never one to talk to people, and now she locks herself in her room all day.

Dumbledore paused in mid-air, then smiled and placed his hand on his brother's head.

Since Ariana died in her previous life, Aberforth had never shown her such concern again.

More than anything, there was dissatisfaction and resentment.

"Don't worry, I... I'm much better, Aberforth."

The two brothers helped each other down the hillside and back to their little house.

Dumbledore wandered around the room, carefully considering the layout and every decoration.

There was a knocking sound at the door, and Dumbledore froze.

He had fantasized about whether things would have been different if he hadn't opened that door.

Unfortunately, there are no "what ifs".

"Brother, go open the door."

Aberforth's voice came from the kitchen; he was busy with what he was doing.

The door handle, which could be turned with ease, now felt as heavy as a ton of bricks.

Scenes from his first encounter with Grindelwald in his previous life kept flashing before Dumbledore's eyes.

The unforgettable figure overlaps with the figure standing before me now.

Golden hair, a free-spirited face, handsome and charming.

as always.

Dumbledore was momentarily dazed, but quickly regained his composure and put on a polite and shy smile.

He gestured for the two to come inside.

"Long time no see, Albus!"

Aunt Bathilda patted Dumbledore on the shoulder and handed him a bunch of vegetables she had grown herself.

“This is my grand-nephew, Gettler Grindelwald, who is 16 years old.”

“A student at Durmstrang College, who has come to visit me today.”

"I was thinking of introducing you two. You're about the same age, so you should be able to become good friends."

Bathilda sat down on the chair next to him and looked up at the boy beside her.

Grindelwald smiled triumphantly and extended his hand to Dumbledore.

“Gettler Grindelwald”.

"Albus Dumbledore".

Dumbledore did not hesitate at all, acting as if Grindelwald were a complete stranger to him.

"Is that Grandma Bathilda?"

Aberforth placed a clay pot of stewed potatoes on the table, his eyes lighting up with surprise at the arrival of the two.

Would you like to have dinner together?

"No need, we'll come back after we finish eating."

Bathilda was still exchanging pleasantries with Aberforth, completely unaware of Grindelwald's fixed gaze on Dumbledore.

Dumbledore smiled back and looked back without flinching.

Grindelwald didn't look away until it was time to leave.

night

Dumbledore rubbed his aching temples and leaned against the edge of the cabinet.

Before him was a wide-open window, and the bright moonlight poured down without hesitation, illuminating the entire dark room.

Dumbledore is waiting.

Waiting for Grindelwald to appear.

He bet that Grindelwald would definitely come looking for him that night.

Sure enough, a slight sound came from the window, followed by Grindelwald's half-leg dangling over the edge of the window.

He braced his hands on the edge of the cabinet behind him, waiting quietly for Grindelwald to climb in.

"I think I need to know why I'm here."

Can you give me an explanation?

Dumbledore frowned and tilted his head, looking at Grindelwald sitting by the window with a puzzled expression.

Are you angry, Albus?

"I can tell."

Grindelwald chuckled and slowly approached Dumbledore.

Seeing that Dumbledore only frowned and did not show any sign of rejection, Grindelwald boldly approached.

His long, slender fingers slipped through his thick, brown curls, and his high, straight nose lingered around Dumbledore's neck.

"Albus, you smell as good as ever."

Dumbledore took a deep breath, trying to bring his wandering thoughts back to reality.

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