They would pass down their experiences and the things they had seen and heard.
And so, even though Grindelwald had vanished for so many years, the moment his name reappeared before the public, it very quickly awakened that part of the past people had never wanted to mention.
All across the world, acolytes were driven into ecstasy.
Above the skies of dozens of countries, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows appeared once more. That enormous green triangle was enough to make hearts tremble the moment people saw it.
"Now that is presence..."
Early Thursday morning, Tom clicked his tongue in admiration as he looked at the newspaper in his hands.
On the front page of the Daily Prophet was the symbol of the Deathly Hallows, accompanied by a short, striking headline:
The Dark Lord Returns
Leaving strength aside, in terms of pure influence, Grindelwald was streets ahead of Voldemort. The Deathly Hallows symbol could make countless nations shudder, while the Dark Mark was only effective in Britain.
The people causing trouble were not necessarily all acolytes. Some could simply have been followers of Grindelwald's ideals. At the very least, Rosier had reported the situation to him that morning and assured him that among the acolytes who knew of Tom's existence, not one had made any move over the past two days. They had all remained silent.
That was enough.
The larger a force became, the harder it was to maintain absolute obedience. So the best approach was to control the important things and let the lesser ones go. As long as the core members remained obedient, there was no need to demand too much from the outer and peripheral factions.
The staff table was steeped in silence.
The four student tables, however, were unusually lively, filled with people all discussing Grindelwald.
Perhaps they had known little before, but this time the newspaper had run an extremely detailed introduction.
Before this, even a top student like Hermione had only one impression of Grindelwald:
A dark wizard defeated by Dumbledore, in what had been called the greatest duel of the century.
Other than that, she knew almost nothing.
That had been the deliberate result of the magical world's efforts, because they had not wanted the younger generation to be tempted by him. So they had done everything they could to fade his existence from memory.
They had almost succeeded.
Unfortunately, this prison break had undone all of it.
"To let wizards live beneath the sun..."
One Slytherin student stared at the description in the paper, trembling with excitement.
"He's not wrong. Wizards should live openly and proudly. Why should we have to hide ourselves when dealing with Muggles?"
Someone immediately echoed him.
"Exactly! Wizards are the true masters of this world!"
"Why call him a dark wizard? If Grindelwald had won back then, the magical world would definitely be better now."
Professor McGonagall let out a heavy sigh.
The danger had already begun to show itself.
For the entire day's classes, none of the professors taught their usual lessons. Instead, all of them did their utmost to explain the dangers and flaws in Grindelwald's ideology.
"Wizards and Muggles are equal," Professor Flitwick told his students during Charms. "We all live in the same world. You may go anywhere you please, but in truth we are still people of two different worlds, and it is best if we do not interfere with one another."
"The Statute of Secrecy also exists to prevent another period like the witch hunts of the Middle Ages. Whether Muggle or wizard, when people face the unknown, they almost always respond with fear and suspicion."
"If we truly followed Grindelwald's ideas and went to war with Muggles, never mind whether we could win or not, the number of wizarding casualties alone would be more than we could bear. The total number of wizards in the world may not even equal the population of London. Are you willing to see your own family die in war?"
The other professors said more or less the same thing. All of them worked hard to dispel the students' more extreme thoughts. This had long since been arranged by Dumbledore, to make sure the students were not seduced by Grindelwald's words.
When it came to dealing with Grindelwald, old Dumbledore truly was an expert.
By the end of the day, the feverish mood had cooled considerably. The young wizards calmed down again. Sacrifice and death were always far too heavy for students to treat lightly.
That also made things easier for Tom.
He had barely paid attention in class all day. Most of his consciousness had been in the learning space, studying memory magic under Ravenclaw.
He was still at the theoretical stage. Ravenclaw's understanding of memory was indeed beyond ordinary people. He still needed time to absorb and accept it.
...
That night, Nott, Rosier, and Zabini were still discussing Grindelwald.
Tom found the noise irritating, so he used a small trick to send all three of them peacefully to sleep. Then he got up, still in his pajamas, and walked out of the Slytherin common room.
Cho had told him that Helena went to the library once every week.
He had not run into her the past few days, so tonight he had to try his luck again.
Yawning as he entered the Restricted Section, Tom casually pulled out a book titled One Hundred Uses for a Wizard's Skull to pass the time. The vivid and stimulating illustrations inside did a fine job of keeping him awake.
Time passed bit by bit.
Before he knew it, it was already two in the morning.
Tom let out a sigh.
He had finished the book, and it seemed to be yet another night without successfully staking out Helena.
But just as he placed the book back on the shelf, a young lady ghost in a trailing white gown, with black hair and black eyes, drifted down through the floor from the third story.
She was beautiful.
Her long hair reached her waist, and her figure was graceful and slender.
At the same time, she carried an air of arrogance, of looking down on all around her. She merely glanced at Tom, did not even pause in her movement, and floated straight toward a corner of the library.
"Wait!"
Tom quickly called out.
If Filch happened to be nearby, he would definitely hear that, but Tom could not care less now.
The ghost turned back, frowning at him, as though waiting for an explanation for why he had stopped her.
"Hello, Grey Lady."
Tom grinned.
"Let me introduce myself. My name is Tom Riddle."
At once, the Grey Lady's face filled with disgust.