Dyroth picked up the Hogwarts admission letter and examined the envelope. The crest of a lion, badger, snake, and eagle greeted him, and despite having anticipated this moment, excitement still surged within him.

The letter outlined the necessary textbooks, items, and preparations for Hogwarts. Dyroth skimmed through it and handed it to Vinda.

"I'll arrange for everything on the list to be prepared."

"No," Dyroth declined softly, shaking his head.

"Some things are better handled in person. Besides, this gives me an opportunity to meet my future classmates at Diagon Alley."

Her brows furrowed slightly. "After this meeting, we won't have much time left. The German and Austrian Ministry of Magic are aware of the situation and will act soon."

"I know," Dyroth replied calmly. "Before the news spreads, instruct the Saints to sell all properties they have and abandon the ones that are too risky. Everyone must relocate to the UK by tonight."

"Understood!" Vinda affirmed, ready to act. "Shall we go now?"

Dyroth turned his gaze to Grindelwald, a fleeting sadness in his eyes.

"Old man, I will leave now. Who knows when we'll meet again..."

Grindelwald's laughter filled the room. "Hahaha... since when do you need to worry about me?"

"Never forget, I am Grindelwald!"

Despite his bold words, Dyroth could see Grindelwald's attempt to put him at ease. Though they hadn't spent years together as father and son, Dyroth felt he had become an important part of Grindelwald's life.

"Take care of yourself... Father."

Dyroth's voice carried the weight of their bond as he bowed deeply.

Then, without another word, he left with Vinda, leaving Grindelwald alone in the vast Nurmengard.

"Dumbledore, I am no longer alone," Grindelwald's voice echoed softly. "Dyroth, my successor, will carry on my will... our will... and continue forward."

...

That night, Dyroth and Vinda Rosier arrived in England.

"Aunt, how is our liquidation going?" Dyroth asked as they crossed into British territory.

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"About 70% of the assets have been sold or transferred. Most of the people have already moved as well."

Dyroth sighed in relief. No one had been caught yet. The Saints had endured decades of suppression, and those who remained were the pillars of the future.

"Dyroth," Vinda began cautiously, "we have plenty of gold Galleons for now, but starting over in the UK will come with heavy costs. We need a solution, or our funds will be drained quickly."

Dyroth smiled confidently. "I've already prepared for this."

Through years of study, he had come to understand the intricacies of wizarding finances. The magical world still clung to outdated economic models, where pure-blood families hoarded gold and magical knowledge, much like landlords of old times.

It was time to introduce a more modern system, where the wizarding world would experience the forces of capitalism.

"As long as you have a plan, I'm not worried," she said, reassured by Dyroth's confidence.

"I've already selected a few properties here. Let's see if you like any of them," she added.

The two soon approached a luxurious manor, where two figures awaited at the entrance.

One was tall and regal, the other smaller but brimming with impatience. Before they even got close, Dyroth heard a complaint.

"Dad, why do we need to be here? Couldn't the house-elves take care of it? I'm supposed to be going to Diagon Alley tomorrow."

Dyroth quickly gathered who these two were. Between the aristocratic tone and the unmistakable shiny blonde hair, it was clear.

Draco Malfoy. And his father, Lucius.

Dyroth smiled to himself. "I was wondering how I would break into the pure-blood circles here, but it seems fortune has handed me the perfect opportunity."

He and Vinda approached as Lucius Malfoy frowned at his son.

Lucius, a master of maneuvering within the wizarding elite, had come in person upon learning someone wanted to buy this fine manor. The buyer had to be of significant standing—certainly a pure-blood family of long lineage.

This could be a valuable connection.

Unfortunately, his son was too preoccupied with Quidditch to grasp the importance of this moment.

"Hello, madam, it's a pleasure to meet you—" Lucius began politely, but his words froze as he saw Vinda Rosier's face.

Vinda Rosier.

The Black Rose of France.

Lucius's eyes widened in disbelief. Why was she here in England? What had he gotten himself into?

Sweat beaded on Lucius's forehead. He realized he had severely underestimated the importance of this meeting.

Vinda glanced at Lucius's blonde hair and the Malfoy family crest on his robes. "A Malfoy, I assume?"

"Y-Yes, Ms. Rosier," Lucius stammered, clearly rattled.

Draco, observing his father's uncharacteristically nervous behavior, was stunned. He had never seen his father act like this, not even in the presence of powerful figures like Minister Fudge.

What sort of people were these?

Recovering slightly, Lucius straightened and offered a stiff bow before introducing himself.

"I am Lucius Malfoy, and this is my son, Draco. He will be enrolling at Hogwarts soon."

"A new student at Hogwarts?" she observed, her gaze flicking to Draco with interest. She then turned to Dyroth.

"Dyroth, your future classmate."

At that, Draco's eyes lit up. He hurried over to Dyroth, enthusiasm in every step.

"Are you going to Hogwarts too? Do you play Quidditch? Do you have your own broomstick?"

"My father's going to buy me the latest Nimbus 2000 tomorrow in Diagon Alley," Draco boasted, his excitement overflowing.

"Draco," Lucius scolded softly, shooting a glance at Dyroth with an apologetic smile. "Forgive my son. He gets carried away."

"I haven't had the pleasure of learning your name..."

Dyroth returned Lucius's smile with grace.

"Dyroth," he said, pausing before adding, "Dyroth Grindelwald."