Albus Dumbledore closed his eyes as he walked away from Grindelwald.

Naivety. Impulsiveness. Selfishness.

Shame coursed through his veins. Once again, he had prioritized his own feelings over the welfare of others. Albus knew, in that moment, when he accepted his proposal, what he thought of was not minimizing the harm that Grindelwald could potentially carry out should he refuse, but a traitorous hope. After all these years, did he still believe that Grindelwald could feel remorse for his actions and repent!? Even if it was correct to say that he could not convince Grindelwald to do something that he did not wish to and this duel wouldn't have been able to commence anyway, he shouldn't have promised to relent so easily.

Albus didn't want to admit to this, but Grindelwald played him like a fiddle. He used his sympathy, regret, desires, and fears against him, and he was dragged along his whims like a puppet on a string.

He couldn't confront Grindelwald, if there was even the slightest chance that he would halt his path of destruction.

I am guilty as sin.

So, Grindelwald watched Dumbledore walk away from him. Again.

There goes another pathetic excuse of a conversation that he botched with his own idiocy.

Grindelwald thought he would be used to this by now, but honestly, he never would be. He unconsciously clenched his hands, and surprisingly found a paper slip.

6:00 pm at Valors.

Grindelwald's lips curled up. Never meet again, hmm? Dumbledore?

His smile froze when he continued to read the next line.

Bring Newt.

Newt?

...

That blasted Newton Scamander!

Only then did Grindelwald remember what one of the conditions of winning the duel was...

Freeing Scamander!

His blood pressure boiled and his sight blurred momentarily from the sudden surge of nausea. Maybe he was going to take after his grandfather and die from being infuriated to death. Oh yes, Death is so much more preferable to what he was going to do next.

From what Grindelwald recalled, at this point of time in his life, he managed to catch that little rat along with his critters on his territory trying to pawn another one of his possessions. Merlin knows why he didn't off Scamander right then and there. It must be so that he would regret it later on.

Just because he had already made plans to release most of the prisoners in Nurmengard certainly doesn't mean he wants to release this one, at least not now. Releasing Scamander is simply another guarantee that things will go wrong in his plans.

But unfortunately, Dumbledore is now saying, "First, show me your sincerity by releasing Newt Scamander." Yes, first. He suspects─no, he knows─that there is going to be another round of suspicions and doubts to go through at the meeting.

Most likely a round with oaths, vows, and truth potions.

Now this raises a whole new set of decisions to make. Grindelwald felt the urge to flip a knut. It's what the guards at Nurmengard usually do when they decide who should go and send Grindelwald his meal and retrieve it, and really, he doesn't want to think about how he should deceive Dumbledore.

He carefully tucked this piece of paper into his shirt pocket next to his heart.

It didn't take long after Dumbledore walked away for Vinda Rosier to apparate a few steps to his right side. As elegant and poised as he last remembered her, she wore a fashionable black coat over a dark violet satin dress. Her steps were graceful even as she traversed the uneven grass in high heels, closing in the remaining distance between them.

Ah, dear Vinda. He never meets with the people he wishes to see at the right time.

"Sire, if I may ask, has Dumbledore forfeited this duel?" Vinda questioned carefully.

Grindelwald stared pointedly at Vinda for a moment, sighed, and relented, "No Vinda, it is I who called off the duel."

He extended his arm to Vinda, and took one last glance towards the audience in the direction where Dumbledore disappeared.

"We shall talk elsewhere."

Vinda smiled and took his arm, "Yes, sire."

They arrived near a small villa in the rural countryside, and Grindelwald dispelled the security wards and charms as he led Vinda inside the building.

Grindelwald started to explain, "Vinda, what I am about to tell you is of utmost importance, and you are the only one I trust enough to carry out my orders and keep this a secret."

Vinda's eyes shone with pride as she replied, "Of course, I am honored and delighted to be entrusted with such a task."

He looked at Vinda straight into her eyes with a piercing look. "I had a vision, a series of visions. The clearest and most detailed ones I've ever had."

Visions are a seer's greatest source of excuses.

"War is a means of accomplishing an end, Vinda, but from what I've seen, there was no end."

"A lunatic rose among the chaos of the war. He went after both muggles and wizards with lesser blood purity when he was a half blood himself posing as a pureblood… Ah, the sheer hypocrisy." Grindelwald sneered, his eyes lit up with mockery.

Vinda slightly curled her lips up at that.

"But despite that, he was powerful due to his magical heritage of the Slytherin line, as well as, something he should be grateful for instead of being resentful of, his muggle father that introduced new blood into the declining Slytherin line whose descendants were reduced to practically squibs in consequence of decades of inbreeding."

Vinda's lips thinned into a line, which Grindelwald noticed, and he decided to further irritate her. He was in a glorious mood today, and his usual venting method was to make others feel just as splendid as he did.

"He took advantage of his magical ancestry to recruit his own followers. Blinded by his promises to restore the pureblood authority, they shackled themselves to a mark of dark magic and kissed the hems of the robes at his feet —the feet of someone whom they would say to have dirty blood."

Vinda interjected, "Sire, pardon my intrusion, but did they not check up on his ancestry? Are they fools?"

"From what I have gleaned, he lived in a muggle orphanage, and by the time he learned of his non-magical heritage, he proceeded to murder the last of his family members to cover up his unsatisfactory blood ties."

Grindelwald continued with momentum, "He is a monster who can even murder his own blood. Can you imagine how many of us would be left after his rampage? A madman who decimated his own kindno, he cannot be called a madman for he was no longer human after he split his soul."

Vinda's usual calm facade turned into one of surprise which quickly subsided into a thoughtful look.

"A horcrux, sire?"

"Yes Vinda, he performed the darkest of magics, of which any sane wizard would understand to avoid. In his vain journey to flee from death, he mutilated his own soul. However, it was not a horcrux, it was seven." Grindelwald made a disgusted grunt at the sheer idiocy of such an idea.

Vinda furrowed her eyebrows at the thought. "Seven… the highest number currently recorded is two..."

"Which is why, you may realize, getting rid of him would be so… tedious and unpleasant."

"Because of him and his followers, I've seen the bodies of witches and wizards littered on the streets like garbage. Our numbers dwindled day by day from infighting while the muggle population count only rose."

Oh, he was going to put all the blame on that little shit.

"Vinda, this cannot be the future we strive for. From now on, we must conserve our numbers as much as possible, including those of our opposition. I have canceled the duel today because I have made plans to negotiate with the British ministry."

He raised an eyebrow in response to Vinda's brief expression of disgust that flashed across her face, and tutted, "Now, now, I know most of them are fools, but there are some that can be rationalized with. We will need to take an incremental approach with Britain, and slowly convert them onto our side instead of how we usually do things."

She nodded solemnly. Although she didn't like this turn of events, she trusted Grindelwald to make the correct judgments.

"Do you know the name of this criminal?"

A glint of satisfaction flashed across Grindelwald's eyes as he took in in her response.

Looks like he could keep her by his side for a while longer.

"Tom Riddle. I do believe he attended Hogwarts, so you can start your search from there. Alert me immediately after you find him and monitor him from a distance. Do not attempt to approach or apprehend him."

He will make a trip to the Gaunt Residence before Vinda makes the connection between Riddle and the Gaunt family.

"It will also be useful to have Dumbledore's aid to quench that little upstart before he starts dealing serious damage to our world, so we'll keep him alive for now."

He smirked, but his eyes turned cold as he carefully enunciated, "After all, that lunatic is one of his beloved students."

Vinda Rosier's right eyelid started twitching like crazy.