"?"
Hel... what the heck?
Wait, how did this turn into a mythological tale?
Lucius felt sowhat out of it, his poor CPU was working at full speed, yet he still couldn’t grasp the aning of Voldemort’s recent words—
"How did you know?"
Helbo seed slightly puzzled, but his tone didn’t quite reflect a question. The impatience on the man’s face suddenly vanished, replaced by a playful look. His gaze made a round around the area, finally locking onto a particular Death Eater still trying to lower his presence. "Seems like your remaining subordinate here is quite capable?"
"?"
What does this have to do with ?
Lucius couldn’t rember receiving any orders or tasks from Voldemort, but he sharply sensed that now was definitely not the ti to speak — his choice wasn’t wrong.
"But."
Helbo stepped closer to Tom, with an increasingly playful smile emanating from his face, "Knowing this, what’s the use? It’s just putting so unspeakable things on the table..."
"Quite a coincidence, isn’t it? I actually want to know — the specific contents of those unspeakable dealings."
Tom showed no sign of backing down; instead, he gently waved his hand, and a bottle of wine on the shelf flew between the two of them. The wine-colored liquid poured from the bottle, filling half of two goblets that appeared on the tea table. "Let’s hear it, Lord Hers— since they can be put on the table."
"..."
Helbo didn’t move, instead squinted his eyes. Silence began to spread like a plague, just when Lucius was contemplating whether he should save or turn on them when Helbo suddenly picked up the goblet in front of him. "I like you." He said, unexpectedly confessing (not really), "You are way more interesting than that lunatic."
With that, Helbo drank the wine in the goblet in one gulp.
"Lunatic? The future ?"
Tom also laughed, probably accepting the confession (not really), "Then start with him, that guy— is there any possibility of him coming back to life?"
"Of course not."
"Then..."
"Just like you, forget it, you also have no chance of coming back to life."
"..."
"Disappointed?"
"Of course there will be so. After all, who would want to live in such a non-human, non-ghost state?"
Tom’s tone remained calm, but anyone could hear the deep-seated unwillingness under that calmness. He raised his hand to look closely, his sowhat transparent hand flickering slightly—yes, he is in a spirit state now. "No, this can’t even be called ’living’—"
"But I already told you the thod before—"
"That thod which is no different from suicide? You ntioned that the man killed dozens of Black Wizards with just one Charm." Tom frowned, "So, how should soone like him be dealt with? Should we kneel before him and beg for rcy?"
"Of course not— the thod is simple, the reason you can’t resurrect is that soone occupies your slot for living, we just need to kill that... little fellow."
Helbo shook his head, drawing a gentle arc on his neck, expressing his aning clearly.
"This simple?"
"This simple."
"... Should I believe such inflammatory words coming from a God of Deceit?"
"There is no need for to deceive you, Tom."
Helbo changed the form of address, seemingly drawing them closer in relation, "We are completely bonded together, Tom, there’s no way that guy will leave you alone out there—" As he spoke, his gaze turned towards the bookshelf. On the original empty spot, a delicately patterned Golden Cup was placed squarely.
"That fake Pendant Box is the best proof, Tom, he’s way faster than us."
"Alright, let hear..."
Tom adjusted his posture, narrowing his eyes slightly, "Your plan."
...
...
"... Greek Mythology?"
Upon hearing William suddenly bring up the topic, Grindelwald rubbed his brows, puzzled. "Why would you be interested in this? Isn’t it just an... Ancient Greek chaotic history?" After thinking for a mont, he gave this precise sharp comnt.
"So clues— I might have found those opponents."
William shook his head; he was actually sowhat confused too— he even wondered if the ssage sent back by Lucius might be crazed. What does it an when ’despicable Helbo’ is one of the twelve principal Gods of Greek Mythology? What does it an that those Gods were dug up from the graveyard, now gathering together, pondering how to seize his Ancient Magic authority?
Why did the plot suddenly veer from fantasy towards mythology —
At tis like this, William needed soone to consult with. After a simple selection, he decided on Grindelwald — this fellow lasted over a hundred years, only two years younger than Dumbledore. Moreover, he hadn’t slacked in reading while pursuing the existence of Deathly Hallows; maybe he knew sothing —
Ti proved William’s choices are rarely wrong.
"... There does seem to be such a saying."
Accepting Dobby’s brewed flower tea, Grindelwald pinched his brows; these days, he almost lived in the Map Chamber where the Secret Vault was located, not leaving unless he had to teach students, "I rember seeing records. Those Gods— might just be a group of Wizards surviving in ancient tis."
"Like rlin?"
"Yes, like rlin and King Arthur— they did exist in reality and passed their stories, then Muggles would adapt according to their understanding."
"So, Zeus might just be a leader of a Wizard Tribe living on Mount Olympus, adept at using Atmospheric Charm?"
"Why does it sound so... low when you say these words?"
"... This is called being grounded."
"Alright, Mr. Grounded—So, according to your spy’s report, that despicable Helbo found one of Voldemort’s Soul Artifacts and by so ans granted his soul awareness; now, they’re plotting to acquire your Ancient Magic power... and the life of that Little Tom?"
Grindelwald paused, streamlining most of the storyline.
"... Yes."
"So, do you have any counterasures?"
"Well..."
"... What are you ’well’ about?"
"... I’m just pondering."
"About what?"
"... If those mythological stories are true."
William crossed his arms, speaking with utmost seriousness, "Then, what exactly is the physiological structure of that ’Zeus’? Or is it really due to so Magic, otherwise, it’s inexplicable how he managed to have a child with a cow... is reproductive isolation nonexistent?"
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