...

There were few magical spells capable of managing the feat. And for as few spells there were, there were even fewer wizards capable of pulling it off to such a degree.

Perhaps... Even just one wizard at that.

It was rather telling that said wizard's name wasn't coming to his mind, though he knew the cause for that.

The Fidelius charm was a powerful piece of magic alone.

In the hands of a master?

There was practically nothing one couldn't manage with it.

He'd, unfortunately, reached the wizard responsible for the attack on the tower too late- The tail end of the boy's spoken spell, his silencing charm wavering as he cast it, been caught.

But that had been enough in truth.

Between the spell's effect, and the word he'd made out, he knew exactly which one it was.

He could faintly remember having a hand in its creation. Having helped its true creator come up with it.

Yet, for all that he knew that said person was someone he would never forget- The fact he was outright linking him to the boy that had cast it had resulted in the Fidelius charm doing everything it could to shadow it from his mind.

Every loophole was covered, he knew that instinctively.

Powerful. An unprecedented intelligence. Formidable.

Absolutely dangerous.

He may not recall the man's name- The moment he stopped searching for it along with reference to the boy still hidden in the trees, said name would return unknowingly- But he knew for sure he lived up to those words.

Though a small part of him wanted him to focus elsewhere, perhaps on the fact he had vastly underestimated Tom's... Chaotic nature. Or rather the fact first-year students had found themselves in danger due to his oversight, once again.

It was foolish of him to believe that Tom would've simply given up following his foiled attempt for the stone once it was removed.

He should've expected him to attack the school once again, only this time in an attempt to kill the cause of his current situation.

He'd thought that he would need more than a handful of weeks- For that was how long it had taken him to find a replacement- To take over another, given Quirrel had been out of contacts for months before his return. His caution had failed him as once again Tom proved he was more than willing to cruelly sacrifice even those who offered nothing else but true loyalty if Harry Potter's words were to be believed, to achieve his own ends.

Perhaps Abatoth hadn't known, but the possession he'd... Accepted was one that would've ended with him dead-

He blinked once, a surprised expression filling his face as he noted once again that the Fidelius had almost completely taken his focus off once again.

He let out a single breath and focused.

He had no doubt, that he wouldn't have a better opportunity to figure out what was making him feel so uneasy than now. No better chance to figure out how best to accommodate the terrified boy waiting for him to leave at this very moment.

Now more than ever, the secret he held to his chest was proving dangerous for himself, and far be it for the headmaster of the castle to not help offer the best support he could.

He had already failed that once before, all those decades ago, and it had given the country a great deal of loss and destruction for it.

Yet... For all that he wanted to do his best... He knew forcing the secrets out of the boy himself would pave a path that wouldn't end well for any...

His mind warred with itself as it wondered if figuring it out would lead to the same... His worry turned greater with every moment that passed at the thought as-

He blinked again and took in a deep breath.

Truly... He had outdone himself this time.

If only he could connect the name with ano-

"Albus?" Minerva's voice washed over him as he turned his gaze towards the woman, a thought rapidly filling his head in the process. "The children have been sent back to the castle's kitchens with the help of Minny-" The house-elf? "I thought perhaps a warm drink would help bolster their spirits after what they'd witnessed." The woman remarked, with a shake of her head. Clear disappointment in herself marring her face.

He simply nodded at that, the idea in his mind wavering as his focus yearned to shift, though he held it in a grip.

The spell used was Hungarian in origin.

The boy had received a letter from Durmstrang.

"That's for the best I imagine- Come the morning I will have a word with the three of them myself."

The professor nodded, a brief hint of relief filling her face as she turned on the spot, about to return to the castle proper herself.

"Minerva," He called out calmly. "Durmstrang..." She turned a bemused look towards him. "I find myself wondering given... Hogwart's own past alumni-" He shook his head quickly. "What comes to mind when you think of it?"

It was telling that the woman hadn't needed even a moment to come to answer given the frown on her face.

"...He really is back, isn't he?" She whispered, the words barely registering in his ears.

He knew who she was referring to, of course.

"It seems so..." He remarked, a hint of resignation in his tone before he shook his head the slightest bit. "All the same, humor me?"

The woman after a moment of simply staring at him simply sighed.

"I suppose it is rather reassuring to know what came off from that school is a tad more rememberable to the world." The woman rolled her eyes. "Even decades later and we're still playing at rivalries," The woman finished with a chuckle.

He held in the urge to frown, wondering if the Fidelius was-

"As bad as You-Know-Who was, the rest of the world would rather face him as opposed to Gellert Grindelwald."

"Perhaps on account of not knowing him truly," His response came out almost mechanically as his mind seemed to whirl around itself for a moment. "I'll take care of... The mess, do go on without me,"

He wasn't entirely sure how the woman reacted to his comment, though he did notice her turn towards the broom she'd flown on before picking it up and heading off on foot.

He was practically frozen there for an unknown amount of time as his gaze swirled towards the tree hiding a student behind it.

The two names held with an iron grip in his mind, even as it practically warred with itself to focus elsewhere, on anything but it.

Rodrick and Gellert Grindelwald.

The last two names he truthfully expected to think about in the same breath.

The two names repeated themselves in his head, an act he'd practically had to force.

Rodrick.

Gellert Grindelwald.

He could feel his hands shake, as magic seemed to swirl all around him, offended as it circled him. He calmly gripped hold of the Elder Wand.

Rodrick.

Grindelwald.

He grasped hold of his wand, a circle of light building at the tip of it before it expanded and rose up through his beard and around his head.

The Fidelius charm felt threatened, and the shield around his mind promptly blocked out the attack that attempted to wipe it for daring to attempt to break through it.

It was telling that the Elder Wand barely held it at bay.

Rodrick Grindelwald.

When the attack dissipated, he almost couldn't help but wonder as to how it had taken him so long to figure it out.

Gellert would most certainly be disappointed, at least if he wasn't busy laughing at him instead.

When the calm stillness of the forest returned, Albus Dumbledore, for the first time in decades, found himself truly lost on what to do going forward.

...

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