The change of ownership of the Chudley Cannons didn't cause much of a stir.
Because Count Dentis had been doing too many things recently.
The new city rose from the ground, and in just over a month, it had already taken its initial shape.
This was unprecedented—an exclusively wizarding city.
It's not that no one had thought of doing it before, but they weren't willing to waste that much money. Unlike the Count, who waved his hand and bought all the Muggle land around Ottery St Catchpole.
In the eyes of wizards, exchanging Galleons for pounds was extremely uneconomical—one Galleon could allow an adult to live very comfortably in the wizarding world for twenty days, but what could five pounds, exchanged from one Galleon, buy?
—Thirty pounds of frozen chicken, or twenty-five pints of milk.
If you have no concept of thirty pounds, then directly converted to kilograms, it's 13.61.
Besides, after buying the land, you still have to build. You spend money and energy, painstakingly building a city for all wizards to use?
No one would do such a stupid thing.
It's just that this kind of "stupid thing" would not only be done in the future, but also on a national level—not only winning reputation and allies, but also making a lot of money.
Of course, the purpose of Count Dentis doing this was worth considering.
Soon, Dana received an invitation from Mrs. Weasley, inviting him to visit the Burrow.
Dana politely declined—he had overpaid to buy the Weasleys' land and gave them tickets just to repay the twins' kindness at Hogwarts. As for deeper "bonds," he didn't want them—and didn't dare want them.
Moreover, he really didn't have time now. There were only a few days left before the start of school, and he really needed to travel around Europe for a few days, so that when Professor McGonagall asked, he'd have something to talk about, wouldn't he?
So he looked up at the old walls of Nurmengard and fell into deep thought.
Was this the headquarters of Grindelwald's wizarding party back then, and now the prison where he was held?
Tsk tsk. The gatekeeper was leaning against the wall, dozing off. Apart from that, there were no other guards—this kind of imprisonment was really just for show.
It's just that Grandpa Grindelwald didn't want to come out.
Dana transformed into a black cat and walked elegantly toward the castle. As he passed the guard—who was clearly over sixty—he saw, from the cat's perspective, dried saliva on the man's chin and some fried bread crumbs stuck to his mouth.
Dana seriously suspected that the old man's lunch had been Wiener Schnitzel. So… was the food at Nurmengard actually pretty good?
Arriving at the gate, the inscription "For the Greater Good" carved directly above was already a bit blurred, the grooves filled with rampant moss.
And Dana didn't feel the slightest hint of an Anti-Apparition jinx—yes, Dana had taught himself Apparition during this summer vacation. Merlin's bloodline gave him an innate understanding of the magic from the moment he learned it, so he could easily tell whether a place was under Anti-Apparition charms.
He stepped inside. The black cat padded up the spiral staircase to the top floor. The air was filled with the smell of rotting wood, and mushrooms had grown in many places due to the darkness and humidity.
Obviously, Grindelwald—the once-powerful figure—had now become a tear of the times, forgotten by the world.
This was a room without a door, and the stone doorway still showed traces of missing hinges.
So, this doorless stone room imprisoned one of the most powerful Dark wizards in history—no guards, no Anti-Apparition charms.
"Oh, let me see… a little kitten—what a rare guest."
Grindelwald, his face lined with wrinkles, gray hair receding high on his forehead, smiled calmly.
"No need to hide yourself, child. I've already seen you in my dreams."
The black cat stood on its hind legs, then in the blink of an eye transformed into Count Dak Dentis.
Grindelwald shook his head.
"This is not the real you, child—but I understand."
He grabbed a metal ring on his right—likely once used to chain prisoners—and with its help, stood up. A large area of rust stained the bricks around the base of the ring.
He moved his limbs slightly.
"Child, go back. I won't help you."
Dana smiled.
"I haven't said anything yet. How do you know what I want to do?"
"I can see the future."
"No, you only see fragments—not the real future. Sixty years ago you foresaw war—airplanes, tanks, atomic bombs…
But Muggles didn't destroy the world, nor did they destroy the wizarding world."
Grindelwald looked at Dana with renewed interest. He didn't believe a person consumed by hatred could say anything worth hearing.
On this matter, he and Vinda Rosier had long disagreed.
Dana continued:
"But the wizarding world doing fine today doesn't mean it will be fine tomorrow. Tell me, how long has it been since wizards created new magic?
In fact, wizarding magic is regressing. Do you remember the goblin riots a century ago? At that time, giants appeared in Hogsmeade, and nearly everyone drew their wands and bravely fought. But now? Most Ministry employees can't even cast a decent Shield Charm.
The noble families grow fat off the merits of their ancestors and inherited wealth, oppressing lower-class wizards to chase more power and luxury, while wasting their own lives.
And the lower-class wizards? They want to rise, but have no way to learn. They want to work, but face discrimination. They try to escape to the Muggle world, but risk breaking the Statute of Secrecy.
A society like this—where inequality worsens every day—is one headed toward revolution. It has nothing to do with Muggles. The wizarding world is rotting from within.
But if we revive innovation and encourage growth, then what do we have to fear from Muggles?"
Grindelwald gave a sly smile.
"Well said. But unconvincing—your purpose is revenge, so your motives must always be doubted."
Dana shook his head.
"What does my desire for revenge have to do with my desire for revolution?
Mr. Grindelwald, you should believe this: precisely because I experienced such suffering, my desire to change the world is even stronger.
What happened to me must not happen again!"
Grindelwald nodded slowly.
"That's a good excuse," he said. "But tell me—once you told Vinda Rosier that my failure came from ignoring class structure. And now you're deliberately tying the interests of the British pure-blood families to your new city. Isn't that contradictory?"
Dana touched his nose.
"Mr. Grindelwald, your intelligence network is surprisingly good for someone imprisoned."
Grindelwald said nothing, just stared at him.
Dana shrugged.
"Well, that brings me to why I came to you today."
He locked eyes with Grindelwald. While he might not be able to defeat the old man if they fought, he certainly wasn't cowed in terms of presence.
"I need your help to attract the big families of Europe to my city."
"Why?"
"I want to create a carnival—one so enticing that people will throw their entire fortunes into it. When they believe something will bring them three, four, tenfold returns, they'll lose their minds.
All I need to do is kick out the foundation of that castle built on gold…
And when the noble families lose their fortunes, they'll become no different from the lower classes. If they accept the rules, they'll survive. If they resist?
Then I'll gladly send them to meet Merlin."
The kind of meeting where you truly meet Merlin.
Grindelwald's smile widened, raising one brow in that familiar, wicked way from decades past.
"And what if I betray you? Spread your plan?"
Dana spread his hands.
"Then I'll fail. Simple. You refusing to help and you betraying me amount to the same thing.
But if I never asked you, I'd have a zero percent chance of success.
So, what's there to fear?"
Grindelwald nodded again.
At that moment, a gust of wind whistled through the sealed boards on the window behind him.
In that wind, Dana whispered:
"Besides… would you really betray me?
This is a perfect chance to reconcile with Albus Dumbledore."
End of the Chapter.
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