Neville's little head was a bit stuck.
"I saw your performance this morning," Grindelwald said: "Not bad!"
"This Saturday, I will wait for you here." Grindelwald said faintly: "I will only teach you one thing."
"What?!"
"I will only teach you—how to win."
Neville's mouth opened, and he swallowed.
"But sir… this… I don't understand… Is it my grandmother who contacted you… No, no… Weren't you always in prison…"
"There's no why." Grindelwald interrupted his stammering. He was very displeased with his inability to even speak clearly.
"I only want you to do one thing."
A sinister smile appeared on Grindelwald's lips: "Go—and kill Lord Voldemort!"
Neville's body trembled like a sieve, his round face flushed like a tomato.
"What kind of expression is that?" Grindelwald looked at him displeased.
"You tell me an answer now, if Lord Voldemort will return. Do you want him to die? If you have such power, do you dare to pay for it, to contribute?!"
"I…" Neville stammered, suddenly feeling that aggressive aura again.
"Yes or no, one answer." Grindelwald casually sat on a chair, uncaring.
Then, he saw Neville's lips move.
"Louder, speak until I hear you."
"Yes!!" Neville mustered all his breath, as if roaring it out.
"Very good, very spirited." Grindelwald slapped the table: "Now say the name Lord Voldemort ten times. If you're still scared after ten times, say it a hundred times, until you're not afraid anymore!!"
Howl, standing by, had a vein throbbing on his forehead.
He already knew about Neville's situation. This answer was somewhat expected, but…
Why did he feel a sense of playfulness?
Like calls to like?
"Neville, you need to understand, this isn't a teacher-student relationship in school," Howl reminded him.
"Between an apprentice and a master, there are no professional responsibilities to uphold. The only thing is the moral responsibility of a master.
Once you make this decision, everything you have comes from your master. Effort is no longer a commendable act, but merely the most basic expectation.
You must give your all to be qualified for someone who has no relation to you to impart knowledge to you. As for what you gain, and how high your master's tolerance for you is. It all depends on the master, not on you!
Everything is in a state of mutual consent. What is given to you is yours; what is not given to you…"
"Heh heh…" Grindelwald chuckled.
"You can say it directly." Howl looked at Grindelwald and said with a smile: "Neville might not quite understand the difference between an apprentice and a student."
Grindelwald was silent for a moment, then looked at Neville: "You make your own choice.
After all, I don't want certain people crying later, saying they couldn't do it.
That would only make all my efforts seem like they were fed to stray dogs.
Of course, you can also refuse."
As his voice fell, both their gazes landed on Neville.
…
"Sir… You mean… you want to teach me…" Neville barely grasped this answer from their fragmented words.
"If you don't meet my requirements, I will kick you out at any time," Grindelwald said.
And Neville's mind was a tangled mess.
His first thought was… to write to his grandmother and let her decide.
However, he also knew that his grandmother would never allow it.
But…
Grindelwald's words were so tempting.
And Grindelwald was a bad guy—at least, the previous rumors and perceptions were like that.
But during the class just now, what Neville saw was an old man who was aging, sometimes irritable and cold, but overall benevolent.
"You can follow your heart." Howl nodded: "Dumbledore allowing him to come here means a lot. If you refuse out of fear, there's no need."
Howl thought of the scene long ago when he and Hal were taken in as apprentices by Teacher Sallyman.
Hal was because he sacrificed his heart to Calcifer, which made that guy forever like an overgrown little brat, easily taken under Teacher Sallyman's wing with just a few words.
He himself, however, deliberated for a long time.
But in the end, even knowing that Sallyman was extremely controlling, immensely powerful, and tolerated no nonsense, he still made the same decision as Hal.
There were pros and cons.
But at least he believed that giving up an opportunity out of fear of the future was not a wise choice.
"But… I can't do it…"
Neville's head was suddenly slapped.
"Others can say you can't, that's fine! But you yourself cannot think you can't!" Grindelwald said faintly.
"This is the last time."
"…Okay… I'm willing…" Neville quickly lowered his head and said.
"Heh heh." Grindelwald chuckled: "Come to this classroom on Saturday, and be mentally prepared."
"Yes… Teacher." Neville nodded quickly.
"Alright, go. Don't mention this to anyone…"
Neville scurried out of the classroom as if fleeing.
Howl shook his head helplessly: "He can't do it… At least, he can't get first place in the competition."
"I don't need him to do it," Grindelwald said: "Aim high and you'll get medium; aim medium and you'll get low. Someone whose vision isn't even high will surely have hands lower than the lowest!"
"I hope so." Howl sighed. At least Neville getting Grindelwald's guidance was something many people longed for but couldn't get.
"Where are you going now?"
"Back to Nurmengard."
Howl was a little surprised: "Not staying longer?"
"No." Grindelwald shook his head: "It's best if he and I don't meet. This is enough…"
Howl was stunned for a moment: "I thought we'd arrange dinner or something."
"Heh heh."
…
After Grindelwald left, Howl also returned to his office.
Suddenly, an idea popped into his head.
Everyone knew that Snape's two most disliked students, the two he most liked to target, were Neville and Harry.
If Neville and Harry were both children born at the end of July…
Then why would Snape target Neville?
The suffering of these two children was so similar, yet Snape at least had a contradictory concern for Harry.
But for Neville Longbottom, it was undisguised, pure dislike.
The difference causing this was…
One was Slytherin? One was Gryffindor?
One performed excellently in school, one was relatively mediocre?
No… Definitely not, Howl knew Severus a little. Harry's so-called excellence, Neville's so-called mediocrity.
In his eyes, they were nothing special.
Suddenly, a notebook flashed in Howl's mind.
It was Christmas, the Potion Class notebook of Lily's that Snape had given to Harry.
The real difference was…
Lord Voldemort chose to go to… Potter Manor…
No, no, no.
Howl shook his head, shaking these thoughts out of his mind.
Any more speculation would be impolite.
"Mr. Cat, what happened?" Sindel noticed Howl's somewhat strange expression and asked curiously.
"No, nothing…" Howl shook his head.
"Let's plan the competition schedule first."
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