Written for the International Wizarding School Championship
School: Ilvermorny
Year: 1
Theme: Royal AU
Prompt: Main, Red [color], Second, Snowing [weather]
Word Count: 1517
I own nothing you recognize.
Albus stood at the foot of the large gates surrounding the castle-turned-prison. It was snowing heavily around him, as his encourage attempted to liberate the gate hinges from a thick coating of ice. He hadn't see Gellert since the last battle of the war, and even then, only from the hills above the battlefield. His father had deemed him too valuable to actually fight in the battles as he had led the charge. Albus supposed that it had been a smart choice. The king was killed during the final battle, leaving his oldest son the throne.
"Your highness," said one of the men, "We can move forward." The guards had finished clearing the gates, and they dragged them open with a loud screech of the hinges. He shivered as they started to walk up the winding path to the front doors. Everything was covered in at least several feet of snow, and while the path had been recently cleared, there was already a decent inch from the snow that was currently falling.
The falling snow damped all sound from around him, and the voices of the people surrounding him pressed into murmurs. He regretted this all so much. His father had died because he had trusted Gellert. His sister had died because he had invited the monster to their home. Aberforth no longer spoke to him, and now he had a country relying on him and admiring him for a lie. They should hate him for what he has done.
The small party reached the imposing front doors where a set of weary-looking guards stood bundled up in layers of clothing, looking rather ridiculous with their official uniforms on top. Albus didn't understand why the Grindelwald royals had their summer home in the freezing mountains. Just thinking about it made him pull his cloak tighter to his body.
The guards let Albus and two of his personal guards through the small guard door within the larger door. His pace quickened, forcing the men to speed up as well. They crossed the large foyer, not bothering to look around. He had had his fill of the rooms extraordinary opulence the one time he had visited Gellert here.
The memories stirred in his head of the summer spent here with the man. It had not been snowing, as it was now, but it had still been cold. But that was not what he remembered the most. It had been incredible being with Gellert here, away from judging eyes. It hurt, thinking how much Albus had trusted that man, knowing now what he had planned to do not so long from then.
They had climbed the large staircase to the second floor when a question occurred to Albus. "Captain?" he asked, "Why are we heading to the second floor? Shouldn't the dungeons be below ground?"
The man turned towards him and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, when we converted the castle into a prison, we found a variety of passageways that lead out, making it easy to escape and we thought that it would be safer to find a room without other exits and secure it instead."
Albus nodded. It seemed reasonable and so very like Gellert to keep secret passages out of the dungeon in case he ever ended up there. He sighed.
He stopped at the threshold of the new hallway. It was bright red. Nearly the color of blood. The blood that had dripped down Ariana's chest onto his lap as she took her last breath. The blood that had splattered the walls of his fathers tent as the medics tried to stem the flow of a deep cut that would soon take the old man's life. The blood that had covered Albus' face when he had captured Gellert the night the war had ended. He hated red.
Albus was startled out of his tirade by the squirming of the guards, trying very hard not to stare at him while he was lost in thought. They continued down the hallway, more slowly this time, passing bricked-up doorways and shivering guards. The cold of the snowstorm had permeated the building and it seemed the guards stationed on the inside had taken the advice of the door guards, as every single one of them was wearing several layers of clothing under their uniforms.
He stumbled on the single step up onto the raised part of the hallway. In front of them was a set of new iron bars stretching from floor to ceiling. Beyond them was a room. Albus tried very hard to ignore the shining red color of the room in favor of inspecting its other features. It had obviously once been beautiful, with heavy decoration and more excessive opulence, but now bore a distinct lack of furniture. The only things in the room were a cot placed in clear view of the guards, and a chair, which had a familiar occupant.
Albus turned slightly towards the men. "Leave us," the men guarding the cell left, but his personal guards stayed. "All of you." They left rather unwillingly and Albus watched them go all the way to the end of the scarlet hall. He turned back to the room. "Gellert."
The man's eyes flashed open. He could not see them from where he was standing, but Albus knew that one eye was brown while one was a very light blue. "Albus," The man stood and walked over to the bars, gripping them vigorously. "You've come to see me." Gellert smiled.
Albus took a step back. He took a deep breath. He would not fall for Gellert's tricks this time. Not when so many people were under his care. Not when he needed answers. Even though a short year ago he would have given his whole kingdom just to return to Gellert's arms and forget about all that had come to pass. He had been so wrong. "Why?" he asked, "Why did you do it?"
"Do what Albus?" the man continued to smile, "I tried to make our dreams a reality, but you want that, right?"
Albus' heart was already to beat faster. "No! You killed my sister, I watched her die. I never wanted that! I trusted you!" he trailed off, "You killed her..." Albus' hand fell against the dark bars and his forehead followed resting on the barrier. Gellert moved one of his hands to cover Albus' and that other to rub his temple. "Why?"
The other man closed his eyes. "I'm sorry," he sighed, "I don't know why. They thought I should and I believed them. I ruined everything and I deserve this."
Albus was nearly shaking now. "I still don't know what drove you to do this," he muttered, "You never let anyone tell you what to do. You've never taken anyone's advice before, let alone kill and go to war because someone told you to."
"I wanted to then. I really believed that the only way I could ever achieve what we wanted was to do it that way." He shook his head. "How would you have done it? I messed it up terribly, nothing you could come up with would be worse."
"I would have gone about it in the same way I suppose, without killing my family."
"She saw us! She would have told your father and we'd both have ended up here!"
Albus drew away, but left his hand in Gellert's grasp. "We could have convinced her…" Even that sounded like a feeble excuse to Albus' ears. She truly had been in the way at the time. He felt guilty even thinking about his sister in that way. As an obstacle to be overcome, rather than a loved member of his family. But he had also thought that same thing about his father. He had needed the man dead so he could claim the crown and put their plans into motion. There had even been a time when he seriously considered arranging an 'accident' for Aberforth. He was more guilty than Gellert in that respect.
Albus pulled his hand away from Gellert's and turned to the red hallway behind him. He couldn't bear to think about the part he had played in all of this, why he was now king, why he no longer had much of a family, and why Gellert was in a prison made out of his own home. He felt so guilty.
Albus rushed down the bloody hallway not stopping for his guards. They tried to follow him but he lost them easily, running as he was.
He stopped when he reached a large window that had not yet been boarded up. It gave a perfect view of the grand mountains surrounding the castle, however, the snow caused a veil-like illusion of the world being wrapped in a shroud. Everything reminded Albus of death, now that he had been reminded of the death he had caused. He felt guilty. Gellert may be the one imprisoned, but Albus knew that a single action would have caused their places and actions to be switched. He was guilty.