The same old way

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Dyroth had intended to give Dumbledore a Christmas gift too, but since he didn't know the password to the Headmaster's office, he decided to leave the gift at the door, hoping Dumbledore would find it later.

By the time he finished, it was evening, and the Hogwarts Great Hall was nearly empty, with just a few students eating.

When Harry spotted Dyroth walking in, he hesitated for a moment before greeting him. Despite Ron's clear dislike for Dyroth, Harry still valued him as the first friend he made in the wizarding world. The tension between his two friends made Harry uneasy, but he still wanted them to get along.

Harry's insecurity, born from years of mistreatment by the Dursleys, had become more pronounced recently. Dumbledore's original plan was for Harry to gradually build his confidence through his time at Hogwarts.

But Dyroth' arrival had disrupted that plan, overshadowing Harry. Without Hermione's guidance and Ron's loyalty intact, Harry's growing sense of inadequacy was on full display.

"Dyroth, I... I read in the papers about your arrest and trial at the Ministry of Magic. Are you alright?" Harry asked, his voice timid.

"Thank you for your concern, Harry. I'm fine," Dyroth replied, his tone polite but distant.

Suddenly, the Weasley twins noticed Dyroth and called out to him, "Oi Oi Oi ! Look who's here! Our hero!" Fred shouted.

George grinned and added, "Just in time, mate. Mum sent us way too many cookies. Want some?"

Dyroth chuckled softly, "Thanks, but I've already had my fill of Mrs. Weasley's cookies."

The small crowd of students still at Hogwarts gravitated toward Dyroth, eager to talk to him and express their concern. Even as they all sat at the long Gryffindor table, there was plenty of space left.

Ron, however, was less than pleased. "Typical Slytherin. He probably used some dirty trick to worm his way out of the Ministry," he muttered angrily, biting fiercely into a chicken leg.

Harry frowned and tried to reason with Ron. "Didn't you read the article? Professor Dumbledore and the heads of the houses all vouched for him. And there were plenty of other wizards speaking up for him too."

Ron huffed, "They're all just fooled by his act."

Jealousy burned in Ron's eyes as he glanced at Dyroth. No matter how much Dyroth tried to stay out of the limelight, Ron couldn't help but resent him.

...

After dinner, Dyroth returned to the Slytherin dormitory. He sat down and pulled out Arthur Weasley's notes on Muggle objects. Though Dyroth wasn't particularly interested in Muggle technology, reading the notes sparked a few ideas. Sometimes the most unexpected knowledge could lead to surprising inspiration.

As Dyroth was pondering, a sudden flame appeared in the air. A magnificent red bird emerged, and Dyroth recognized it immediately. "Fawkes?" he murmured. "Did Dumbledore send you?"

Dyroth offered Fawkes a biscuit, but the phoenix raised its head, seemingly unimpressed. Instead, Fawkes dropped a note in front of Dyroth before disappearing in another burst of flames.

Picking up the note, Dyroth read the message: 

* 'Mr. Grindelwald, please come to the Headmaster's office. The password is 'cockroach cluster.' *

"What does Dumbledore want now?" Dyroth muttered. "It's not just to thank me for the Christmas gift, is it?"

Though skeptical, Dyroth packed up and set off for the Headmaster's office. Halfway there, a thought struck him, and he quickly returned to his room to retrieve a few items before heading out again.

When he arrived, Dumbledore was sitting in his chair, casually enjoying a cockroach cluster with a glass of milk. "Ah, Mr. Grindelwald, thank you for the woolen socks and candy. I quite enjoyed them. Would you like a cockroach cluster?" he offered with a smile.

Dyroth politely declined. "Thank you, Headmaster, but I'll pass. I still haven't finished the book you gave me. If there's something you wish to discuss, please go ahead."

Dumbledore sighed softly, as if recalling a distant memory. "Dyro... May I call you that? Sometimes pushing oneself too hard isn't wise. I once had a student who was much like you—brilliant, determined, loved by all his professors. Unfortunately..." Dumbledore trailed off, his eyes reflecting sadness.

Dyroth could sense where the conversation was heading. He had anticipated this moment. Dumbledore, it seemed, was trying to draw parallels between Dyroth and Tom Riddle—Voldemort. Dyroth suppressed a smirk.

Dumbledore's patience was wearing thin, but he was still hesitant. Perhaps memories of Voldemort had made him more lenient with Dyroth.

Feigning empathy, Dyroth responded, "You remind me of my father. He too often speaks of old friends and past events. It's a pity that the people in his memories never seem to visit him."

Dumbledore's smile faded, his expression growing somber. It was clear that Dyroth' words had hit a sensitive spot. For a moment, Dumbledore seemed at a loss for words, his usual calm demeanor shaken.

After a long silence, Dumbledore finally spoke, changing the subject. "Dyroth, I need your help with something."

Dyroth raised an eyebrow. "You're not asking me to deal with Scrimgeour, are you?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, Scrimgeour's fate is sealed. He has made too many mistakes."

Dyroth wasn't convinced but played along. "What is it, then? What do you need my help with?"

"Professor Quirrell," Dumbledore said quietly. "You've spent time in his office. You must have sensed something."

Dyroth remained composed. "Are you referring to Voldemort?"

Dumbledore looked slightly surprised at Dyroth' use of the Dark Lord's name. "Not many young wizards are brave enough to call him that. So, you've met him, I presume?"

Dyroth nodded, confirming Dumbledore's suspicions.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his expression grave. "Years ago, Professor Trelawney made a prophecy. It spoke of a boy who would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord. A boy born at the end of July... Harry Potter."

Dyroth listened intently but showed no reaction.

"I've been guiding Harry," Dumbledore continued. "But mere guidance isn't enough. He needs courage. And facing Voldemort, even in his current state, is the best way for Harry to learn."

Dyroth cut in, "I have no intention of playing nursemaid to Harry Potter, Headmaster."

Dumbledore sighed, as if expecting Dyroth' response. "Dyroth, we made a deal."

"The deal was that I would guide him, not that I would fight Voldemort," Dyroth replied firmly.

Dumbledore paused, contemplating his next move. "In that case, Dyroth, how about we make another deal?"

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