Grindelwald's words echoed through the office.
His expression serious.
His tone solemn.
As a powerful Prophet, there were few secrets he couldn't uncover, yet the matters surrounding Ian increasingly made him feel like his talent was losing its efficacy.
This was not fatal.
But it did leave this former wizard leader feeling puzzled and curious. In truth, he had always known there was a secret between Ian and Dumbledore that he had sensed but had not fully uncovered.
Always.
Grindelwald hadn't cared much about it. He thought he always had time to slowly see through the mist surrounding Ian, but this mindset had undergone an irreversible change a few days ago.
Facing the gaze of the Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
"Gulp~"
Ian first resisted his craving for the apple.
Then.
"You know, I've always been quite popular, have many friends… even in the sea, I have friends, just not sure what the woman's name you're referring to is..."
He was trying to feign ignorance, to muddle through.
However.
Grindelwald's curiosity was already piqued, and he wasn't going to let him off.
"You know many mad women?"
Grindelwald was clearly somewhat surprised, furrowing his brows with an exceptionally strange expression.
"Uh..."
Ian was momentarily at a loss for words.
Dare not give any answer—truth be told, upon hearing Grindelwald's experience, and seeing the Golden Apple on the table, he knew exactly who the Dark Arts professor had encountered.
Throughout history.
Few wizards could contend with Grindelwald.
And those who could make Grindelwald use phrases like "almost killed me" were even rarer, probably only those legends from the history books had such prowess.
Hence, it was highly likely that Grindelwald encountered some terrifying witch in the past, who for unknown reasons, was hacking down Golden Apple trees worldwide, ruthless and petty.
"Seems like you know who I'm talking about." Grindelwald had been observing the Little Wizard's facial expressions all along, accurately capturing a hint of helplessness in Ian's eyes.
"Perhaps?"
Ian gave an uncertain response.
"If you tell me the answer, this apple will be yours." Grindelwald began enticing him, having noticed earlier that Ian's attention kept flicking to the Golden Apple.
"I think Aurora needs this apple more than I do, she's too weak... needs more nourishment." Ian resisted the allure of the Golden Apple, knowing well that he didn't need the apple to boost his magic power.
The reason his eyes were uncontrollably drawn was entirely due to reminiscing about the sensation of consuming a Golden Apple, that melting in the mouth, triggering a transformative experience was wonderfully unforgettable.
"You're quite generous."
Grindelwald's eyes couldn't help but squint.
He read an unusual message in Ian's words.
This further heightened his curiosity.
"I genuinely don't know what you encountered, or why you think it was because of me that you... escaped." Ian chose once again to speak in a way that avoids the main point.
His honesty was as usual.
It's not that he intentionally equivocated, but Ian could only confirm whom Grindelwald had met, yet remained puzzled as to why Morgan, still living in this world, knew about him.
"That person... that mad woman... before kicking me away, she left me a message... for that amusing dumb pig's sake, get out quickly..."
Grindelwald's voice carried a hint of embarrassment.
Angry.
Yet helpless.
This might be the first time he's experiencing such emotions.
"Huh?"
Ian was initially dumbfounded upon hearing this.
"Why does that descriptor point to me?"
Even though he was now one hundred percent sure of Grindelwald's encounter, he was still somewhat bewildered and annoyed by Grindelwald's implication.
"I'm most aware of which parts of my memory have been forcibly read the longest!" Grindelwald spoke with a hint of gritted teeth.
He likely had never suffered such disgrace in his life.
"Spanning thousands of years across distant places, little one, you even have old acquaintances there, isn't your so-called popularity and connections somewhat too outrageous?"
Grindelwald opened frankly, a pair of deep eyes fixed on the Little Wizard—heaven knows how many times Grindelwald had tossed and turned over this during these days.
He dreamt of pondering this question. If he weren't so thoroughly knowledgeable about the Little Wizard's life from birth until now, he'd surely suspect this Little Wizard to be some ancient yokai, with a growth speed in magic power and an understanding of magic that hardly resembled anything but an "amnesiac" old wizard reclaiming former knowledge and strength.
"I wouldn't know that, Professor, perhaps the thing you're talking about hasn't happened yet, I certainly couldn't know." Ian shrugged with a somewhat despondent expression.
This was a half-truth half-exaggeration.
He indeed had such suspicions, but he hadn't disclosed any information about Morgan he knew, not even wanting to mention his relationship with Morgan.
Better fewer troubles.
Feigning ignorance suffices.
The Dark Arts Professor in front of him was someone who had provoked Morgan. And between his beloved teacher and esteemed professor, there's no need for much contemplation in choosing.