Chapter 143 – Behind the Myth
We were in the center of a muggle metropolis, as for which one I did not ask Grindelwald yet. From what I gathered, we were most likely back in Germany, inferring it from listening to the language around us. We didn't linger on the streets for long after apparating and instead headed to a hotel where we rented out the penthouse, using the funds that my Father left for us. Once we were up in our multi-bedroom suite, Quincy finally asked the question that was making me itch.
"What's in the suitcase?"
"Are you familiar with the term grimoire?" He asked, sitting down on the leather couch and placing the suitcase on the mahogany coffee table in front of it.
"You mean our textbooks at Hogwarts?" Quincy asked, tilting her head and making Grindelwald smile.
"Yes and no. You see, grimoires are more complex than simple magic books teaching you spells. A true grimoire contains the full knowledge and essence of a wizard. Most ancient wizards and witches wrote their grimoires at the end of their lives, pouring their magic into it when creating one. A true grimoire has all of the knowledge and personality of its creator. It is the ultimate legacy of any wizard."
"Are you familiar with the talking paintings?"
"Of course." We answered, making him smile.
"It is the same concept. The difference is that the grimoire is more complex and will be able to answer much deeper and more profound questions than a painting."
"So... there is a grimoire in there?" I asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "Is it yours?"
"No, not mine." He nodded, opening it, making both of us stretch our necks, trying to see. Inside were multiple knick-knacks, amulets, rings, pairs of gloves, wizarding robes, and cloaks, but the most exciting part was the leather-bound, black book resting in the middle. It was not as thick as some of our school books and was more akin to a diary than anything. It was... unassuming. But I already learned that means nothing. We have tents that look small but have a whole house inside, so this had to hide something important...
"Who wrote it?" Quincy asked softly, looking at Grindelwald again.