It had been a nasty surprise to discover just how far behind the muggles wizardkind had allowed themselves to become. He'd known they would have made advancements; it was only to be expected in the time he'd been locked away and the sheer size of the muggle aeroplane had been evidence enough of that. What had horrified him was the complete lack of change he'd noticed among wizards in the few visits he'd made to Diagon Alley.
He'd expected new spells, instruments, plant species and creatures but was instead confronted by the same buildings lit by candles and torches. The muggles had managed to put technology in space yet wizards were still trying to tell the future from the positions of the stars. (Anyone with a moderate understanding of astronomy could tell you that a preordained position of a planet only affected the future of two kinds people; potions masters and werewolves.)
Meeting the Granger girl was a stroke of genius that could not be entirely credited to his sight. He'd had the idea to initially contact the Potter boy directly but had eventually decided that there would be fewer security precautions placed around his muggleborn friend. He'd been right of course, she was entirely unprotected and her desire for more contact with the wizarding world had worked solidly in his favour. He now had an almost direct feed on Albus' activities.
He'd easily managed to fabricate a reason for his presence, enrolling himself in a muggle university to study science. It was truly fascinating what the muggles had managed to discover and even more so what they'd managed to do with it. He'd already managed to come up with several new spells based off the principles that he'd learned.
The suspicious father had been an inconvenience but he believed he'd handled it masterfully, playing the cards just right to gain his sympathy. The dinner invitation was really just an added bonus because Gellert was a terrible cook.
He met them at six, knocking on the door as if he was uncertain that he'd got the right address, then magically produced a bunch of flowers when it was a middle aged woman who answered.
He was shown in, once again astounded by how far muggles had come since his imprisonment. The lights were bright and steady, tinted to a comfortable yellow and completely silent. The kitchen was immaculate, crisp white paint over the ceiling and pale lavender on the walls. Pure white counters carried smart electrical machines whose purpose Gellert could only guess and Mrs. Granger returned to one of them as soon as he was settled in the adjoined living room. A loud whirring noise came from her direction as she started it up and he craned his neck to see her raising and lowering a white stick in a large pot. Seeming to judge it done, she removed the white stick (with a silver attachment covered in red sauce) and pressed a button, detaching the dirty silver attachment and putting it in the sink.
She then put the pot back on a black sheet in the counter and it started to bubble furiously. His fascinated attention was torn away when Hermione bounced down the stairs and into the living room, a large book tucked under her arm.
'Hello Gerard. How was your test?'
For a moment he was confused, then he remembered that he had indeed had a test at university. He'd passed it with flying colours of course. He didn't need to wait for results day like the rest of the muggles, he could just tear the knowledge from the teacher's mind with legilimency.
'Oh, it was easy enough. There was a question on the forces on a jetski which I had to skip; there wasn't enough context for me to understand what a jetski is.' There had actually been a question on jetskis but it had only taken a surface perusal of the other students sitting the exam to find out what it was.
'How is your transfiguration essay going?' He asked in return, Hermione beamed as she launched into an explanation of the theory of increasing viciousness to increase the power of mundane spells. It was notoriously difficult to get the correct level of viciousness with every day spells and the inexperienced could easily overpower or underpower them.
She was still going when her mother served up steaming plates of pasta, an indulgent expression on the older woman's face as she gave her an extra helping of parmesan cheese. Gellert rose hurriedly and offered to help bring the cutlery and drinks around the table. He then pulled out the chair for her before she sat down, which made her giggle. He then cautiously focused on a conversation about lawn mowers with Mr. Granger for most of the meal.
The conversation quickly turned back to him after dinner though, as Hermione was sent to fetch bowls and ice cream from the fridge.
'So you're from Germany, Gerard?' Hermione's mother asked as she gathered up their plates. Gellert nodded and almost entirely truthfully told them that his mother was from Norway and his father had been a German. He said very little about his youth, there was very little he could say that wouldn't clue them in to how old he really was. Instead, he talked about his time at Durmstrang and the degree he was studying now, as well as the "foundation" he was taking over summer.
Hermione was then only too happy to respond to his prompting when he began asking about Hogwarts. Most of what she told him was about her last year with the basilisk and the chamber of secrets but he managed to glean small pieces of information that were actually useful. That matron that had been assisting Albus had graduated to Transfiguration teacher, apparently age suited her and she'd actually developed enough backbone to get students to obey her.
There was a new charms teacher who was competent as a dueller, the Defence against the Dark Arts position was rumoured to be cursed and the school hadn't kept a teacher for more than a decade. Apparently students saw very little of the headmaster but Hermione seemed to think he was a brilliant teacher all the same.
She was also very excited about her electives that she'd be taking next year. She was most excited about the prospect of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. She claimed that she was already starting to get ahead in those subjects but was having less success with divination; she'd tried looking into tea leaves but hadn't had any clear pictures yet.
Seeing another opportunity, Gellert offered to coach her over the summer. He modestly admitted that he'd always been rather good at it. He honestly told them that his mother had always had a talent for it. By the time Hermione started school, he would have a reliable informant on Albus' whereabouts.