The hands that used to touch, caress, move over my skin with a slow-burning and beautiful sexual torture—that used to bring forth the most low-lying and amazed moans and screams of pleasure—only bring up blood now.
I know this must be true as I stare down at the paper over my coffee, thumb running over the ink of the headlines in thought. 'GRINDELWALD'S ONGOING ASSAULT ON MUGGLE EUROPE' it screams at me, mocking my memories. But, then again, they have long been run through the mud. Ever since the day Ariana died. Ever since he ran.
He apparently has never stopped running. Has apparently run all across the European continent. I frown more severely yet and finally fold the paper in an aggravated gesture. It snaps closed and I set it in the middle of the table. The cry was getting louder, even here in Britain. I rest my head on one hand and look down into the cold coffee. Almost fifty years.
I had let this go on for almost fifty years. It was a slaughter. I may not have been actively present in it, but I was as good as responsible for it. I sigh and put my cup in the sink, the untouched coffee swirling down. I know I should do something. Have known, and I finally must do something. I need to move against Gellert now, and end this bloodbath. But just as well as I know that, I know how difficult it will be. I question even my ability to do it. How do you stand against…dethrone…imprison… maybe even kill…the man you love?
I sigh and sit back at the table. I lay my head on the table. I can't help but find it funny. Shouldn't it hurt? But it doesn't. It merely feels empty. I breathe in through my nose. I would start refining plans this evening. I raise my head and look at the folded paper. My eyes lower. A sad smirk.
"And my toast's gone bad too."
This was meant to have a lot more reminiscing about their summer together, but the end just…happened. I find it fittingly Dumbledore, however, and leave it so. I was going to have more about how hard it would have been for him to try and fight Grindelwald and such. I might do another piece just because I want to write more of their memories. I usually just read HP, not write it, but…that may change.