Harry Potter: Is It Normal for a Hogwarts Professor to Be a Dark Lord?

Christmas Eve.

Austria, near Vienna University—a three-story house that looked no different from the others in the neighborhood.

The house seemed unremarkable, yet the snow lay on the sky-blue roof in a meticulously even layer, too perfect as if arranged by a person with an obsessive compulsion rather than falling naturally.

This perfection suggested the owner was no ordinary individual.

Suddenly, a graceful figure appeared on the deserted street.

Despite the bitter cold of winter, she wore only a wool coat over a seemingly thin women's suit.

Her dark red attire complemented her slender, elegant figure, adding a touch of sophistication beyond her years.

Her swan-like neck topped a soft, delicate face; her black hair was styled up. Her name was Cynthia Vasika, a lady of elegance.

She chuckled at the perfectly smooth snow.

"No muggle would do this," she muttered helplessly. "Your teacher really is a handful."

Then she began walking forward at a leisurely pace.

Tap, tap, tap...

The sound of her high heels was faint, as discreet as her sudden appearance, unnoticed by anyone.

But as she approached the house, the door, as if sensing her presence, swung open automatically, revealing a dim hallway.

Cynthia entered without surprise, familiarly crossing the threshold as if coming home. Even with the lights off, she navigated confidently to the kitchen.

She casually tossed her coat onto a chair and switched on the kitchen light, cheerfully pulling out the food she had brought for the evening from her small purse—roast turkey, chicken, steak, various vegetables, and of course, an assortment of desserts and candies, indispensable to any feast.

"You really went all out, knowing how much I love sweets," a wizened voice teased.

"This isn't for you, so don't end up eating it all like last time," Cynthia replied without turning around.

The elderly man shrugged indifferently and began inspecting the candies.

"Oh, my favorite lemon sherbet," he said, popping a piece into his mouth. "But first, let me thank you on Tver's behalf."

Hearing the name, Cynthia finally turned around, looking helplessly as the old man savored each dessert.

His once frail body had grown stronger over the years, now barely filling the dark green pajamas he wore. Yet, the marks of time were too deeply etched on his face, with only his eyes remaining calm and undisturbed.

The past hidden, it seemed nothing could surprise him anymore.

"Professor Grindelwald, I've told you many times," Cynthia placed the last dish on the table, "not to eat only sweets. It's not good for your health!"

The old man hesitated for a moment, then decided to leave just one lemon pudding for his only student, claiming the rest for himself.

"Yes, yes, I'll leave some for Tver."

Cynthia's cheeks flushed, and her movements became slightly flustered.

Grindelwald, with a smile tugging at his lips, eyed her attire and teased, "He does appreciate elegant attire, but you're only eighteen and can barely manage high heels. It doesn't suit your temperament."

Caught in her thoughts, Cynthia's face turned even redder, and she glared at the old man.

"I'm just trying this style occasionally, unlike you, who refuses to try anything new. No wonder Tver despises your antiquated thoughts!"

Grindelwald nonchalantly took his seat at the head of the table, tasting candies as he spoke, "If I truly didn't care about what he's said, why would I move into this Muggle neighborhood?"

"Oh?"

Cynthia looked at the old man in surprise, having thought he just had a peculiar preference for living in a house devoid of magical traces.

"Don't think of me as so outdated. Before your parents were even born, I... we harbored the most radical ideas in the world."

"I suppose you haven't noticed, but there's a Muggle university nearby?" Grindelwald mused, "It's one of the most renowned universities in the country. I go there every day, observing every Muggle student and their professors, and scholars. At first, I scoffed at their research, as magic is a miracle that supersedes all they do. But since Tver took me to the deepest part of their research facilities, I've realized—"

He unconsciously clenched his fist, a fierce glint in his eyes.

"Muggle progress is quicker than any of us anticipated. Within a century, their technology might match magic. What's even more terrifying is the accelerating pace of their advancements!"

Cynthia was not surprised by these remarks; rather, it was such discussions that deepened her admiration for Tver.

So she emphasized, "Tver predicted this."

Grindelwald burst into laughter, his student evidently his last great accomplishment.

"Yes, he foresaw this trend more clearly than anyone else, which is why I moved out of Nurmengard. I want to see firsthand him achieving what I couldn't!"

At these words, the old man's expression softened into a wistful sadness, muttering to himself, "If only I had chosen a more suitable approach like Tver, perhaps things could have been different..."

Seeing him sink into sorrow, Cynthia quickly changed the subject. "Tver, why hasn't he arrived yet? I hope he hasn't been delayed."

Her clumsy attempt at distraction elicited a soft chuckle from Grindelwald, who also managed to pull himself out of his reverie.

"Don't worry, there are few who could delay him given his abilities. He mentioned he needed to have dinner with his family first before he could come here."

Cynthia pouted in disappointment and swiftly snatched a small cake Grindelwald was about to grab.

"We'll wait for Tver before we start eating!"

She had put a lot of effort into preparing tonight's dinner, mostly for Tver, and she wasn't about to let it all be eaten casually, not even by Tver's mentor.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

A moment later, a figure that Cynthia had been eagerly anticipating appeared in the kitchen.

Tver smiled warmly at them.

"Sorry, I was a bit held up preparing gifts for my students."