Snape caught the old wand, his eyes were still incredible. He could feel the magic power in his body becoming lively and his power increased. The old wand seemed to be silently urging him to fire some spells.

He restrained the impulse in his heart, walked slowly over, and placed the old magic wand on the desk. The magic wand rolled around the table a few times, hitting the silver base on one side, and after trembling for a while, it gradually calmed down.

"That's all?" Snape licked his lips, his voice a little hoarse.

"That's all." Dumbledore nodded and said, "The old wand is the most ignorant and cruel wand. It only considers ability. It follows the power. Now I am not only 'de-armed', but also not as good as you in mana, so you deserve to win the wand."

"But I can't own it." Snape said coldly, his eyes still staring at the elderberry wand.

"Severus," Dumbledore sighed, "I would rather never have it. In history, countless people are obsessed with the powerful power of the old wand, but how many have gained happiness? None of them!"

Snape was in a daze and looked away.

"Fox will send you back." Dumbledore finally whispered.

The phoenix standing on the perch spread its wings and flew straight towards Snape, whose golden claws gently grabbed his shoulders. Snape turned his head and was silent for a brief moment.

"Who do you want that wand to be passed to in the end, and who else do you want to deal with?"

"That's your business," Dumbledore said calmly: "I hope there will never be a day that will be used, and it's best to be a permanent mystery, which means there will be no major changes in the wizarding world."

Snape stared at his eyes and said nothing for a long time. Fox on his shoulder made a "click" sound with his beak bored.

"—It also means that I have found something for Snape to do, so that he can't look dead all day long." When one person and one bird turned into flames and disappeared into the office, the portrait of Principal Black on the wall said with a sly look, "When are you going to hang yourself on the wall, Dumbledore? I think of visiting you-Ouch!"

A very thick wand appeared in his frame and began to poke him constantly.

"How dare you say that you are so irresponsible!" a witch said fiercely.

Amid a "bangdong" and a scream of pain, Dumbledore smiled slightly lowered his head and rubbed the resurrection stone ring, then took out a quill pen and parchment to start writing. The letter was very short, and he waited for the ink to dry after he finished writing.

A soft light of fire, Fox is back.

"Tell the letter to Babajid." Dumbledore said to it happily.

...

The next morning.

"I still can't believe it." Harry whispered at the dining table, glanced at the teacher's seat, and some professors were enjoying breakfast, including Professor Basharat.

Will such a man stir up a war of wizards and Muggles half a century ago? Harry tried hard to see the traces of his youth from Professor Bashar al-Barshat's wrinkled face, his eyes fell on gray hair, were they dazzling golden before?

"Dumbledore knew about this, Harry, he recruited Professor Bashar al-Basat to the school, so whether it was that person or not, it was not as important as the next exam." Hermione persuaded righteously: "We had wasted the whole night of discussion yesterday and did nothing serious. This was a crime."

Ron, who was originally excited and was about to join the discussion, immediately supported his chin with one arm and flipped the fried eggs on the plate. But Hermione did not let them go. She said with great enthusiasm: "You must review it well on the weekend. Because Animagus, our progress was two weeks behind normal!"

"When it comes to this, I'm going to fill out the form tonight at Professor McGonagall's office," Harry said in frustration.

"Oh, well, that's about two hours," Hermione said with great experience: "Professor McGonagall will teach a series of regulations on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, such as occasions and places where Animagus is prohibited, totaling 47 items..."

"Stop talking, Hermione, I'm going to have a nightmare," Ron muttered. He suddenly looked at the long dining table opposite, "Hey, I don't know when they're so close."

Harry looked up and saw Neville and Hannah's heads gathered together, eating and chatting.

"Hannah lent Neville the notes on the Transformation class to him, and may help him make up for the lessons or something." Hermione said disapprovingly. Neville is not qualified to take the Transformation class this semester, but he plans to take this year's make up for the requisition exam.

"Neville can take care of us borrowing notes," Ron said immediately.

"Oh, Ron, you fool."

Harry regretfully found that the conversation was forced to stop, and maybe he could give Ron a suggestion to not speak so directly. After they finished their meal, they went to the last ancient magical class of the week. Before leaving the auditorium, Harry took another look at the teacher's seat.

Hermione looked at him and said sadly.

"Oh, if Professor Basharat was really... that person, how sad Neville would be."

"Yes, I'll feel uncomfortable if I have a close relationship with two black wizard professors in a row," Ron said, "When he saw that Professor Slughorn had no other shortcomings except for some powerful eyes."

"What an amazing discovery," said Hermione.

On the dining table, another verbal battle ended, and Felix just shared his teaching experience with several professors.

"Thank you, Felix." Professor McGonagall endured it a few times, but still couldn't help it. She protested: "I don't think it's a responsible way to ask seniors to set questions for juniors."

"But we have to admit, Minerva," said Slughorn, who seemed convinced, "the lower grade courses are simple, and the content is nothing new, from the perspective of efficiency..."

Professor McGonagall immediately stared at him with a fierce look, and Slughorn wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Milleva," Felix said slowly, "most of the sixth and seventh grade students are now adults. We cannot simply treat them as students, experience some things, and take some responsibilities-"

"I was surprised at the cost of giving up part of my responsibility as a professor." Professor McGonagall said fiercely.

Felix shrugged and turned to see Grindelwald with a mocking expression on the side. He immediately turned his gun, "Professor Basharat's final exam should be finished, I guess? After all, there is only one grade."

As we all know, Grindelwald only teaches grades six or seven, and the N.E.W.Ts exam in grade seven is still under the responsibility of the Ministry of Magic.

"I'm going to hand over the probationary report with the school stay," Grindelwald said. "What do you mean by saying something? Keep improving... Professor Bubaji?"

Keridi Bubaji raised his head and pointed at himself in confusion.

"I have written several papers on Muggle research and are preparing to find someone to correct the format. I can't think of a better candidate." Grindelwald said, bowing slightly.

"Oh, OK, I'm happy to help," said Professor Bubaji enthusiastically.

"Can I see?" Dumbledore suddenly interrupted.

"No problem," Grindelwald said lightly: "I have to admit that some of my views in the past have been extreme, and there is room for correction... Muggles have advantages. For example, the gun ban bill they have recently developed - can they hand me the raspberry jam?" Dumbledore was stunned for a moment and immediately handed him the jam dish, "Thank you-" he continued: "I have been paying attention to this information: the new legislation has officially come into effect, and the Muggle government has collected more than 10,000 guns..."

"I remember it was reported in the newspaper that it was the Muggles' wand?" Professor Flivi asked with interest.

"It's almost the same, but that thing has only one function, killing." Grindelwald whispered: "In my active age, this kind of thing was everywhere, and Muggles didn't give up, and they worked hard to study various more efficient ways of killing. They were gifted in this regard."

"Oh, oh." Professor Flivie was a little lost. "I can't understand why someone specializes in this."

"The abuse of magic can also cause serious violence," Dumbledore warned.

"But magic is not only violent," Grindelwald said calmly: "We use it to grow crops-" He looked at Bubaji, who smiled slightly; "Get out of complex labor-" He nodded to Frieve again, and Frieve politely put down his fork; "And the pursuit of truth-" His eyes flew over Frieve, who looked back curiously; "Of course, there is love."

His gaze swung around and finally fell on Dumbledore.

"Love is a great magic. This is your point of view, is it, Principal Dumbledore?"

"That's right." Dumbledore's face showed a look of surprise.

Gu Qian

"How amazing," Grindelwald said with emotion: "I have often imagined recently what kind of scenes the exchange between a wizard and a Muggle would be."

Felix put down his knife and fork and looked at Grindelwald intently, not knowing what he wanted to say. As a result, Grindelwald's words surprised Felix.

"...Intimate and learn from each other, wizards don't have to worry about fear, and Muggles can also benefit from magic... But I think communication is not achieved overnight, nor is it full of kindness at the beginning, there will inevitably be twists and turns. We must be more proactive in welcoming the future... In this process, the old method does not work - Voldemort's approach is very unpopular - only by uniting all feasible forces to ensure that there is no chaos within."

Several professors looked at this insight with admiration.

They have more or less heard of Professor Basharat's hostility towards Muggles, but judging from his speech today, Professor Basharat seems to have perfected his thoughts. Professor McGonagall even took the initiative to hand him a small dish of pastries.

"You can try this, Professor Basharat," she said politely.

"Thank you," said Grindelwald politely: "These are all thoughts that I have in the teaching process, and those slightly immature thoughts have also promoted my transformation..."

A few minutes later, the professors left to teach the students.

Felix tried to complete the unfinished meaning of Grindelwald's words - this was necessary, because Grindelwald's words were said to him and Dumbledore, or more accurately, carefully prepared for Dumbledore.

He mentioned that his views were too extreme... Of course, otherwise he would not have gathered saints to start a war in the world of orthodox wizards; then there are Muggle weapons, is this important? Perhaps it is just the introduction to the next topic, laying the groundwork for the real focus:

The exposure of the magic world is inevitable, and only unite all forces that can be united.

And the saints... are an important force.

When I opened the door of the ancient magical classroom, Felix roughly outlined a contour in his mind:

As the school year approaches, Grindelwald's brief vent is about to end. If he does not want to continue to return to the cold Newmont Gaardburg to serve his sentence, he must carry out self-rescue. Even though Grindelwald has been stable for more than half a year, he is very clear about his situation.

More than half a year is enough for him to see the changes in Dumbledore over the past half century.

He finally took out his own weight today in late April. He was willing to accept the conditions offered by Dumbledore and become an important force in the stable wizarding world.

The question is, what will Dumbledore do?

Below the podium, the students whispered.

"Professor Happ is distracted again?"

"Ahem, just a little bit, beware of being heard."

"You guys say, does the professor know the truth?" Harry asked whispered. "It must be." Ron said confidently, "Maybe he is thinking about this now, but unfortunately I don't know how to capture God and take thoughts... What do you think, Hermione?"

"Maybe the professor is thinking about how to fly to the moon." Hermione snorted softly.

"Ha, you've become humorous."

Felix cleared his throat and the students calmed down.

"I suddenly thought of the practical exam questions for this year's final exam. Do you want to listen to them?"

The students stared at him, a little overwhelmed.

Hermione held her forehead.

"If Professor McGonagall heard it, he would probably not be happy."

"Who cares!" Ron said happily, with a bright smile on his face and Harry also smiled, which means he can get good results in at least two subjects, one is ancient magical text and the other is black magic defense.
To be continued...