Five…
The delegates ran the numbers in their heads. If the five strongest Ministries in the world, on average, were willing to pay the price, they could almost certainly crush Grindelwald's whole faction between them.
And Grindelwald's own forces, so long as he personally stayed out of the fight, could hold their current territory without much trouble, but pushing outward to expand further would strain them thin, leaving room to swallow only a few small neighboring countries at most.
So this came down to a contest of roughly matched strength?
Once they understood what Grindelwald was actually offering, the tension in the room eased considerably.
Good, good. As long as the fight stayed within the bounds of the rules, open or covert, they had more than enough experience to grind any opponent down to their own level over time.
From the very start, it had never really been the Saints that the International Confederation and every Ministry involved had feared. It had always been Grindelwald himself, the man, standing outside every rule that governed everyone else.
An enemy outside the rules was always the most terrifying kind there was.
Bring him back inside those rules, and all that changed was one more player joining the table.
Dumbledore, though, kept his brow furrowed. From where he stood, this deal looked like a genuine loss for Grindelwald. His position right now couldn't be stronger. Why willingly cut himself down to size?
"You think I'm hiding something?"
Grindelwald flicked a sheet of golden parchment across the table, landing squarely in front of Dumbledore. "See for yourself. If any clause looks like a trap to you, say so plainly."
Babajide leaned in, examining it alongside Dumbledore, and soon enough dozens of people had crowded around the single sheet of parchment, Tom included, until Tom found himself squeezed clean out of the huddle. He caught Grindelwald's eye across the room instead.
"Something fun to tell you later."
The boy's eyebrows lifted. "Fun how?"
Grindelwald only smiled and said nothing.
Before long, they'd picked the contract apart from every angle and found no hidden trap anywhere in it.
"Dumbledore, your thoughts?" Babajide asked.
Dumbledore shook his head slightly. "My opinion isn't what matters here. What matters is what the Confederation you represent, and the other Ministries, decide."
"I'll need to consult my Minister," said one head of International Magical Cooperation, and the rest quickly echoed the sentiment.
"Take all the time you need to think it over." Grindelwald tapped the table lightly, and a door in the room swung open on its own. "There's an empty office right next door. Dumbledore, care to join me for lunch while they deliberate?"
"I'll pass," Dumbledore said at once.
Grindelwald turned instead to Tom. "And you, Riddle?"
"Of course." Tom rubbed his stomach. "I barely ate anything this morning." With that, he followed Grindelwald straight out of the council chamber.
That left Dumbledore staring after them, stunned. Was he really about to let Tom go off alone with Grindelwald?
With no better option, the old man had no choice but to follow along, while the two walking ahead of him were already laughing themselves silly back in the pocket learning space.
Lunch left Dumbledore on edge the entire time, though thankfully Grindelwald avoided any sensitive topics, sticking instead to questions about how things were going at Hogwarts, along with a steady stream of jabs at Dumbledore's standards for hiring staff.
"Can't even keep a proper Defense Against the Dark Arts professor on staff. You really have let things slide over the years, haven't you."
Dumbledore had no good answer for that one. Still, the comment reminded him of something he'd nearly forgotten entirely: he hadn't given a single thought to Voldemort in some time, no idea where that wandering, wretched soul had gotten off to. As for Bellatrix and Lockhart, still loose after their escape, they'd slipped his mind completely.
An hour later, the three of them returned to the council chamber.
Babajide spoke first. "Grindelwald, we accept the terms you've proposed. In turn, the International Confederation will formally grant you amnesty. So long as you keep the peace, you're free to train the next generation and live out your years undisturbed."
"Ha!"
Grindelwald let out a short, derisive laugh. "You think I need your pardon? Go on then, try coming to capture me again right now."
"You—" Babajide looked ready to flip the table.
They were in the middle of a peace negotiation, and the man couldn't even let him save a shred of face?
Ignoring Babajide's discomfort entirely, Grindelwald pressed on. "Now that you've agreed, I have one more condition."
"You mean to go back on your word?" The delegates bristled, alarm and anger flaring at once.
"Not at all. Just one small addition."
Grindelwald raised a finger. "Since we're calling a temporary halt to hostilities, you'll need to lift the economic blockade on Berlin as well. My people should have the same right to travel the world as anyone else, and naturally, other wizards should be equally welcome to visit my nation."
"But I have little faith in how much control the Confederation actually holds over its member Ministries. How am I meant to trust the safety of my people? I'll need some real assurance on that front."
"That's..."
The delegates exchanged uneasy glances. That condition, at least, wasn't unreasonable on its face.
It wasn't only Grindelwald who had reason to worry. They had their own concerns about the safety of their citizens traveling through Germany and Austria too. But coming up with an actual solution on the spot proved harder than anyone expected.
"I might have an idea, actually."
Tom, who'd been coasting through the entire proceeding without much to do, let out a yawn. After waiting this long, his moment had finally arrived.
Every head in the room turned toward him at once. Dumbledore couldn't help but ask, "Tom, do you have a suggestion?"