HP: The Dropout Who Saved the World

Scamander?

Jane Yu's mind raced as she scrambled for a fake name to deceive the stranger. Her eyes lit up as she quickly settled on a reliable surname to take the blame.

Facing a completely unfamiliar wizard, brimming with magic and whose intentions were unclear—whether friend or foe—she dared not reveal her true identity in an unfamiliar European magical community.

And Scamander... The name muttered by the man, possibly referring to Newt or his son, might indicate an old friend of his.

Having a familiar name could smooth their interaction, making it harder for him to attack her outright.

After silently thanking her mentor Newt for a few seconds, she decided to become a Scamander herself.

"Yes, I'm Newtie Scamander. May I ask how I should address you?"

She adopted her most polite demeanor and placed a Niffler on him to help keep him warm.

Over the past few days, she had done a lot for this poor, lonely old man.

Based on her observations, the place he had been living was empty and barren, devoid of furniture; the man himself was dressed in rags, resembling a wandering wizard who had taken temporary refuge in an abandoned castle, so starved that he was nothing but skin and bones.

In short, he looked like someone who couldn't even afford to put food on the table.

So she had taken him away from that desolate, uninhabitable, gloomy castle and settled him in a Muggle village at the foot of the mountain.

Not only did she prepare a variety of delicious potions for him to consume, but she also personally performed surgery on him and fed him her treasured Chocolate Frogs to boost his blood sugar.

In fact, she had already planned out this leisurely vacation.

Once she nursed this lonely old man back to health, plump and rosy, she would bid him farewell—

And ride her dragon to Beauxbatons in France.

Unfortunately, her efforts seemed unappreciated by this old man.

When he woke up to find two Nifflers crawling around and heard her introduce herself, he appeared even more furious.

"A name?" He let out a cold laugh, the wrinkles on his face deepening. "Anton Vogel."

In all his life, Gellert Grindelwald had never encountered such an audacious witch!

The moment he opened his eyes, he knew that the black-haired, black-eyed Asian girl before him was definitely not a member of the Scamander family.

And the thick aura of dark magic emanating from her made it almost instantly clear to him—

She was an Obscurial! And she had survived to nearly adulthood!

A witch who refused to reveal her name, falsely claimed to be a Scamander, was possessed by an Obscurus, could control dragons to attack him, and had taken him away from Nurmengard...

And yet, none of this had appeared in his prophecies—

This raised his vigilance to the highest level!

Someone must be controlling her from behind!

Since they were testing each other, facing a witch who falsely claimed to be a Scamander, he introduced himself as the former German Minister for Magic, Anton Vogel—a past follower of his—to hint that he had seen through her scheme. He would not be outdone.

What he didn't expect was that she continued playing dumb!

"Alright, Mr. Vogel, I'm terribly sorry my dragon couldn't stop in time," the seemingly underage witch cheerfully replied. "Please feel free to stay here. I'll take care of your living expenses until you recover, and then I'll send you back."

Grindelwald immediately deciphered the subtext in her words.

She intended to imprison him here until he revealed the secrets of the Deathly Hallows!

And this house was the place where she planned to detain him!

He couldn't help but inwardly mock how primitive and outdated the methods of this generation's dark wizards were.

Did she really think that using sweet words, lavish comforts, or even imprisonment and torture could make him spill everything?

He had seen it all—every kind of hardship, every flavor of suffering.

He decided to observe his enemy's intentions slowly and eat the sugar-coated bullets while throwing the shells back at her.

Even without a wand, his wandless magic skills should suffice to handle the situation.

With a cold snort, Grindelwald clasped his hands behind his head and lay back, his face showing a mix of indifference, mockery, and nonchalance—

Only to have the fingers he had just reattached broken again, causing the color palette of his face to shift dramatically.

"Hiss—"

...

In the following days, Jane Yu, who had thought this would be a pleasant journey, found herself feeling a bit drained.

The old man she had run into was small in stature but big in temper—

He expected everything to be handed to him and constantly barked orders. Even when she was brewing potions, he would direct her around, being particularly demanding.

If it weren't for the fact that she had accidentally run into him, she would have left him here long ago!

"Is this all you've got?" 'Vogel' began his barrage of mockery. "Using such a tiny fire shield to brew potions?"

She glanced curiously at the blue interior and gold-red exterior of the Muggle gas stove beneath her...

And found it difficult to communicate with this old wizard, who had clearly been isolated in the mountains for too long and lacked basic Muggle knowledge.

"Ah, yes, yes," she gave up on explaining.

Unbeknownst to her, Grindelwald had a small flaw common among smart people—

His innate arrogance meant he only respected those he deemed powerful.

He silently observed the young witch as she lit a fire and brewed potions... She had even created a spell similar to a fire shield for protection, though the fire circle was rather small...

Such precise magical control... No... He couldn't even sense a trace of magical fluctuation...

This made him regard her with a bit more respect.

"That's not how you cast Protego Diabolica."

Unable to contain himself, he criticized her. The small fire circle was too unsightly for him to bear, and he couldn't resist the urge to teach:

"Protego Diabolica... Derived from Latin for protection against devils... Don't tell me you don't even know that?"

He received a curt "I don't know" in response, which nearly made him faint from anger.

The young witch who had run into him was small in stature but big in temper—

If she didn't agree with him, she simply ignored him.

"Don't tell me the only thing you know is the basic Incendio spell they teach at school?" He continued his mocking tone.

This time, he finally got a response, though it was a threat, and it revealed a lot of information to him.

"No, I also know Fiendfyre. If you don't shut up, I'll burn you to ashes and bury you in the mountains."

Grindelwald froze, falling silent, though not because he was intimidated.

Fiendfyre... He knew it was created by that man... And that man would never teach it lightly to anyone!

His mind raced... Scamander... An underage witch... Albus... Fiendfyre...

And he reached a conclusion—

She must have a very close relationship with Albus Dumbledore!

No wonder she coexisted so well with the Obscurus... No wonder she had such precise magical control...

But her ability to command dragons and Nifflers...

Made him silently curse in his heart once again—

Damn Scamanders!

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