I stopped in front of the stone gargoyle, the entrance to the Headmaster's office. I didn't even have a chance to try a password before the gargoyle leaped aside, clearing the way.

  I headed up the spiral staircase to the very top, not even bothering to knock on the door. I knew Dumbledore was aware of me – otherwise, the gargoyle wouldn't have moved without a password – and at the same time, I was certain the portraits had informed him of my visit long ago.

  Fawkes was missing this time, so I walked straight to Dumbledore, who was watching me from behind his half-moon spectacles.

  “Good day, Headmaster.”

  “Good day, Patrik,” he paused for a moment, but then asked: “I am a bit busy. Can I help you with something, or have you come for the promised apology?”

  I didn't intend to waste time either, so I answered directly: “The promised apology, Professor.”

  There was a brief silence. He examined me searchingly, curious about what I would choose, until he finally gestured with his hand for me to continue.

  “I want to see your legendary duel against Lord Grindelwald.”

  I saw him stiffen for a moment. I had surprised him. He likely expected me to want to learn some advanced technique or ask for a rare book. Dumbledore slowly took off his glasses and began to clean them with the hem of his robes. A classic move to gain time to think.

  After a moment, he sighed heavily and spoke: “That is... a very unusual and personal request, Patrik,” he said in a quiet, serious voice.

  I stared at him in silence. I knew this was exactly what I wanted.

  “Lord Grindelwald? I sense more respect for Gellert from you than you hold for me,” he tried to stall further, but I kept my gaze steady and unrelenting.

  I saw the moment he finally decided to grant my wish. His shoulders slumped, and a deeply hidden sorrow surfaced.

  “As you wish,” he paused, then stood up and waved his wand.

  In the corner of the room, a cabinet opened with a creak of wood, revealing a glowing Pensieve covered in ancient runes.

  “An interesting artifact, it must be quite expensive,” I thought. “Could Master Vane create something like this too?” I asked myself internally.

  In deep concentration, Dumbledore beckoned me forward. His wand was pressed to his temple. After a moment, he slowly pulled it away, and a long, silvery thread of memory stretched from his mind. With maximum precision, he moved it with his wand into the basin, whose runes briefly glowed with a bright blue light.

  Noticing my questioning look, he decided to explain: “This is a Pensieve. An artifact in which you can view memories – your own or those of others. You only need to submerge your head, and it will draw you into the event. You will see what you desired so much.”

  He paused and added in a sad voice: “I shall return to my work. The Pensieve will return you once the memory ends.”

  I didn't wait. My heart was pounding against my ribs, but my mind was ready. I leaned over and plunged my face into the silvery surface.

  MEMORY: NURMENGARD, 1945

  Dumbledore walked at the head of a massive army toward the fortress. The dark stone tower, surrounded by walls with narrow embrasures, bore an inscription over the gate in beautiful German calligraphy: “Für das gr??ere Wohl.” Snow-capped mountains loomed behind the stronghold. Wizards' breath was visible in the freezing air, while ice cracked and snow squelched beneath their feet. The ground thundered with every coordinated step.

  Dumbledore showed tension, anxiety, and sadness. He was considerably younger, his hair still auburn. As the army approached, the fortress gate suddenly burst open, and another army began to emerge slowly. The ground shook under the impact of thousands of feet. However, their leader was not at the head.

  The two armies stopped opposite each other at a distance of about half a kilometer. Dumbledore's feelings shifted in that moment; sadness was replaced by pure, icy determination. He drew his wand, and at the same moment, everyone else did the same. Thousands of wands whistled through the air, and I got goosebumps from the sheer accumulation of power.

  Dumbledore held his wand to his throat and whispered: “Sonorus.”

  His voice immediately echoed through the surrounding mountains like thunder: “Gellert! Where are you? Show yourself!”

  A murmur went through the opposing army. With a slow rumble, the center of their formation parted, creating a two-meter corridor. A blond wizard walked through it. With every step he took, the wizards of his army placed a clenched fist over their hearts and bowed their heads in deep respect.

  Grindelwald walked forward, and Dumbledore stepped out to meet him at a slow pace. They stood there alone, two epic titans. A freezing silence fell, in which only the tense breathing of the two armies and the sound of snow hitting the cold ground could be heard.

  They stopped right in front of each other. Grindelwald spoke first in a sad, almost tender voice:

  “Here I am, my love. Did you miss me, Albus?”

  “You must stop this, Gellert. This is not the way,” Dumbledore replied. He paused for a moment, a lone tear rolling down his face, and added: “Death and suffering... all of Europe is burning.”

  “For the greater good, Albus. You were in this with me until you betrayed me. And now? Now you are just a common dog of the corrupt ICW. You listen to insignificant bureaucrats while innocent wizards suffer.”

  “The greater good was not about death and suffering, Gellert!” Dumbledore shouted. “We were supposed to change the world for the better!”

  “A cowardly idealist, as always. How did you want to change the world?” Grindelwald asked indignantly. “Did you want to ask them nicely to give up their power?!”

  Dumbledore, however, was stubborn and set in his ways, shaking his head in disagreement. “Surrender, Gellert. So many wizards do not need to die.”

  “From the moment I met you, Albus, I saw the future. Our duel is destiny,” he spoke sadly. “No wizard needs to die except for us...”

  He paused and continued: “One on one. Let our power and conviction decide.”

  Dumbledore considered for a moment, then nodded resolutely. “I agree.”

  Silence fell. I saw Grindelwald struggling with himself, but finally, he spoke: “Order your army to retreat. So they do not die in vain.”

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  It was the last thing he said. Without waiting for a sign of agreement, he headed toward his people. I followed Grindelwald; I desperately wanted to hear what he was saying to his army. Unfortunately, instead of words, I heard only a murmur. I saw his army reluctantly retreating – they wanted to fight for what they believed in.

  I didn't care what Dumbledore was saying, so I only watched Grindelwald’s wing. Standing right by his right side was a woman who looked incredibly like Vespera. Vinda Rosier. Lord Grindelwald’s legendary right hand. I saw anger in her face and realized she had almost identical facial expressions to mine.

  After a while, she too retreated with the rest of the troops, and Gellert returned to the center where Dumbledore was already waiting. They stood facing each other with wands drawn and bowed simultaneously.

  The battle began.

  Grindelwald was faster. “Fulmino!” A bolt of lightning shot from his wand, intended to end the duel instantly. Dumbledore, however, was not caught off guard. With a sharp flick of his wand, he raised the earth, which transformed in a fraction of a second into a steel structure. It safely grounded the lightning.

  Dumbledore didn't wait. With another movement of his wand, he sent a pack of dogs at Grindelwald. Gellert, however, eliminated them instantly with a series of Bombarda spells. Grey beams hit every creature with surgical precision.

  Meanwhile, Albus patiently transfigured the surrounding environment – trees came to life, and birds flocked from the sky toward Grindelwald. Although Gellert was considerably faster and crushed every transfiguration that approached him with offensive spells, Dumbledore flooded him with a vast number of targets.

  “Confringo!” “Reducto!” “Os frangere!” “Spatha Cutis!” Grindelwald fired one attack after another.

  Dumbledore was slower in his movements, but his transfigurations were numerous and willingly threw themselves in the path of the Dark Arts. His defense was practically impenetrable. Grindelwald, however, did not give up. He dodged the blow of an animated tree with a roll and sent an orange beam: “Everte Statum!”

  The moment of surprise worked. Dumbledore was thrown back violently. Before another attack could hit him, a stone gargoyle jumped in front of Albus, only to be blown apart by the following “Confringo!” and “Reducto!”

  “Protego Horribilis!” Dumbledore cried out, and a pulsing blue shield appeared before him, absorbing another curse with a loud crack.

  Grindelwald was now on the defensive. He shattered a walking ent with a Bombarda, but had to constantly dodge a pack of wolves. There were so many that he barely managed to fend off their fangs. Dumbledore, meanwhile, recovered: “Avis! Engorgio!” Massive eagles filled the air, joining the wolves' attack.

  “Fulmino!” Grindelwald roared. Most of the eagles instantly disintegrated under the onslaught of lightning, but the last wolf managed to sink its teeth into Grindelwald’s calf. With an angry cry, Gellert blew it to dust with a close-range Bombarda.

  They stopped for a moment, warily measuring each other. Then, as if by silent agreement, they both attacked at once.

  Grindelwald sent another series of Dark Arts: “Reducto! Confringo! Spatha Cutis!”

  Dumbledore, meanwhile, lightning-fast transfigured the surrounding ground into more animated creatures. He barely managed two flicks of his wand before the first Reducto reached him.

  “Protego Horribilis!” Albus shouted. The shield absorbed the blue beam of the Reducto curse, while the fiery orange blast of the Confringo hit it with a loud snap. The shield still held, but the sickly yellow beam of the final spell shattered it for good.

  At that moment, however, it was Grindelwald who had to defend himself. Dumbledore accelerated, and his transfigurations increased faster than Gellert could destroy them. Although Grindelwald was significantly faster at casting curses, he was beginning to lose. Transfiguration had the upper hand – it was crushing Grindelwald with sheer volume, and he had had enough.

  “Protego Diabolica!” he roared angrily. Immediately, a ring of blue fire erupted around him, in which specters of dragons, chimeras, lions, and hydras danced. The flames incinerated everything in their path. Nothing from Dumbledore's army could get close.

  Sweat trickled down Grindelwald’s temple; it was clear how much energy this spell was costing him. The fire, however, no longer drew from him – it fed on the transfigurations themselves, which it devoured. Dumbledore stared thoughtfully into the flames for a moment but then decided to continue.

  “Avis! Avis! Avis! Avis!” He conjured hundreds of birds that rose into the sky in a cloud directly above Grindelwald. They then began to dive straight into the ring of fire. The Diabolica flared up violently, and the ring became a massive pillar of fire that turned everything approaching it to ash in a second.

  Considerable fatigue was visible on both of them. Turning the Diabolica into a pillar of fire must have cost an enormous amount of strength, and Dumbledore, though his transfigurations were not as taxing individually, was paying a high mental price for their vast numbers. Both felt that the end of their legendary duel was inexorably approaching.

  As if agreeing in a single second, they both shouted elementary charms at once: “Ventus!” “Aguamenti!”

  A fierce vortex of air erupted from Grindelwald’s wand. It grew stronger and larger with every step he took, until it became a destructive tornado tearing up the ground beneath it. Dumbledore opposed him with a massive stream of water that surged and grew until it turned into a predatory tsunami.

  Both poured the remnants of their magical power into their elements. A shadow of understanding flickered across Grindelwald’s face – he knew he was on the losing side of this clash. Despite this, he did not give up, pushing more and more magic into the spell until his tornado was half a height taller than the approaching wave.

  With a deafening crack and rumble, the two elements collided. The sound of the impact echoed off the surrounding mountains while water and air fought for dominance. For a moment, it seemed balanced; the tornado raged, sucking huge masses of water into its center.

  It didn't last long. With a deep thud, the tornado collapsed from the bottom. Only weakened, chaotic eddies full of water remained of it. Dumbledore's wave, however, did not stop – it advanced with thundering certainty, completely ignoring the remnants of the wind.

  An opaque elementary curtain rose between the wizards, and for a moment, I completely lost sight of Grindelwald. After a while, a deafening boom was heard. A bolt of lightning struck right into the center of the water wall, evaporating a huge amount of water in an instant.

  Although the wave weakened, the rest of the mass rolled forward. That’s when I saw him – Grindelwald. His face was contorted with determination, refusing to give up. He flicked his wand again: “Ventus!”

  The air vortex carried him high above the wave, and with incredible speed, he found himself directly in front of a surprised Dumbledore. “Reducto!” “Confringo!” he fired without mercy.

  “Protego Horribilis!” Albus called out with his last remaining strength. His shield absorbed the blue beam, but the fiery blast of the Confringo shattered it with a snap and threw Dumbledore back several meters.

  Albus hit the ground with a heavy thud. After a series of uncontrolled rolls, he lay in the dust, losing his grip on his wand as it fell, rolling half a meter away from his outstretched hand.

  “What the fuck? Grindelwald was supposed to lose!” flashed through my mind in total shock.

  Gellert approached him with a heavy, exhausted step. A single spell was all it would take to finish Dumbledore for good as he struggled to rise from the ground.

  But then I saw something in his face I didn't expect. A vast sadness flashed through his entire expression, and his eyes reflected deep love and tenderness. He was fighting with himself. The world or love? In that fateful second, his will lost; he couldn't bring himself to cast the final curse. He hesitated until it was too late.

  “Expelliarmus!”

  The spell caught Gellert completely by surprise. The wand flew from his palm straight into the air, where Dumbledore skillfully caught it.

  Before the memory began to fade, I managed to catch one last glimpse of Grindelwald. It was full of bitter betrayal and immense suffering. Dumbledore just stood there silently, his face mirroring the same infinite sadness.

  END OF MEMORY: NURMENGARD, 1945

  I found myself back in Hogwarts. It took me a moment to recover from the disorientation, but I was immediately flooded by a surge of anger.

  That duel was one giant tragedy. Grindelwald showed mercy, and that is precisely why he lost. He chose love over power over the world, and because of that, the magical community remained stuck in time under Albus Dumbledore’s baton.

  I couldn't blame him, though. I would have chosen love myself, even if the whole world around me had to burn. The only difference was that he wanted to change the world. I was relatively indifferent to it. Life was truly unfair, and my respect for the prisoner of Nurmengard only deepened in that moment.

  I felt Dumbledore's sad gaze on me. When I looked up at him, I saw a quiet expectation of my verdict in his face. Inhale, exhale.

  “Thank you. It was a... constructive duel,” I said coldly, but immediately continued: “What would have happened to the world, however, if Lord Grindelwald had not shown love and mercy back then, Professor?”

  I didn't wait for an answer. I turned to leave, ignoring his sad eyes burning into my back. I didn't care. While Dumbledore sat here in safety and luxury, a great man who wanted to build a better world was rotting in a cold and desolate prison.

  Author’s note:

  Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald were both gay according to Rowling, so it's canon. What do you guys think about their duel? It’s probably obvious that I sympathize with Grindelwald.

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  Upcoming Chapters – Already Written:

  36. The Bitterest Ink

  37. The First Blood

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  39. HP: The Boy Invisible

  40. Theory, Tears, and Hidden Things

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  42. Pain as a Teacher