At four o'clock in the afternoon, after emerging from the Room of Requirement, Tom and Hermione parted ways with Daphne and headed toward the Headmaster's office.

The stone gargoyle guarding the entrance immediately began to move aside at the sight of Tom—but he stopped it.

"Hold up," Tom said. "Didn't we agree? No matter who comes, the password is mandatory. I can't play favorites."

The gargoyle gave a stony groan. "Kid, are you still holding a grudge? That was one prank—one! And it was last term!"

"No exceptions," Tom replied solemnly. "Those were your words."

"But you know the password," the gargoyle nearly wailed. "Why do you always have to recite the entire Honeydukes menu before getting to it?!"

Everyone else just said the password. Only Tom insisted on listing candy after candy—intentionally skipping the correct answer—before finally revealing it at the end. Now, just hearing the names of sweets made the stone beast's head ache.

Defeated, the gargoyle gave up arguing and simply slid aside in silence, turning into its inert stone form.

Tom smirked. "Can't take a joke, huh?" He stepped onto the moving staircase and ascended.

Inside, Dumbledore was already waiting behind his desk, smiling warmly. When Tom entered, he gestured to the chair in front of him.

"So," the headmaster began with a twinkle in his eye, "my services as headmaster are finally required?"

"Mr. Riddle, the house-elf said you needed my help," Dumbledore continued, genuinely pleased. "I'm honored. Please, tell me how I can assist."

Dumbledore was delighted. In his view, all genuine relationships are built through mutual aid. He didn't fear Tom coming to him for help—what he feared was another Tom Riddle, closed-off and emotionally distant, walking the path to becoming another Dark Lord.

"Professor," Tom began, offering a shy smile, "I read an old interview from 1955, where you said that Newt Scamander was your favorite student. I really admire Mr. Scamander, and I've recently run into a problem involving magical creatures. I was hoping to consult with him. Do you happen to have a way to contact him?"

Dumbledore's smile froze on his face.

He'd gone through a whole train of thought, even resolved to sign any restricted section permits Tom might ask for—and it turned out... all Tom wanted was for him to forward a letter?

In the magical space where Grindelwald was observing everything, the elder wizard nearly snapped.

I told you to consult Dumbledore directly—not to use him as your postal owl to reach Scamander!

Dumbledore recovered quickly and nodded. "Magical creatures, hmm? Yes, Newt is certainly an expert in that field—far more than I ever was."

"He's not just a former student of mine," the old man added with a fond smile. "He's also a dear friend. I'm sure he'll be happy to help."

"That's wonderful, thank you so much, Professor." Tom pulled out a pre-written letter and handed it over. "Could you please send this to Devon?"

Dumbledore took the envelope, then chuckled softly, a bit playfully. "Who told you Newt lives in Devon?"

Tom blinked. Wasn't that what the books said?

Dumbledore leaned back, eyes glinting. "Newt and his wife, Tina, actually live in New York. Devon is just a decoy address—for privacy. You see... he made quite a few enemies in his youth."

His voice softened with a trace of sorrow. "Even now, there are still those who seek revenge on him—for helping an old friend."

Tom's expression darkened. He didn't need to ask. That old friend was the very one sitting inside the learning space now, watching all of this unfold.

"Grindelwald."

Tom reached out mentally. Didn't you lose? Why are the Saints still so powerful? Even someone like Scamander has to hide from them?

"I lost," Grindelwald replied quietly, narrowing his eyes within the learning space, "but that doesn't mean they did."

"Do you know the kind of people who followed me back then? Most were pure-bloods—and many half-bloods who truly cared about the future of the wizarding world. They were the backbone of magical society."

"If the authorities had completely purged the Saints, the entire magical community in Europe would've faced collapse—or even extinction."

Tom fell silent. It made sense. The people who agreed with Grindelwald's ideology—believing that wizards were inherently superior to Muggles—were the very ones upholding much of the wizarding world's infrastructure.

"So... they were never punished?"

"There was punishment," Grindelwald said after a pause. "I didn't investigate the details, but I know many of them suffered. At the very least, none of their families will be allowed near power for the next few generations."