The Bell Jar

by noga999

"It was the happiest moment in my life, and also the last." Oneshot. AD/GG.

Name: The Bell Jar.

Fandom: HP.

Ship: Albus Dumbledore/ Gellert Grindelwlad.

Rating: T (R).

Summery: "It was the happiest moment in my life, and also the last."

Disclaimer: Don't own.

AN: As I'm not a native English speaker, I would be glad to get tips to help me improve my syntax and such in English :)

Enjoy ^^

I was the one to find him. Yes, I let the devil in this house, like an abandoned puppy I picked on the street. And to think I was proud of it at first.

I'm fine. Really, I'm fine. Mother and father always insisted otherwise; they used to say I wasn't stable. That I'm traumatic. Maybe there's some truth in these words, because somehow, I was never able to explain to them that they were wrong.
It's a bitter fate. Sometimes I'd rather truly be a disturbed child, an exception, rather than live with the knowledge that I'm fine, but no one understands it. It's a little like living with a bell jar on your shoulders; you can see the world painfully clear, but the glass is covered with steam every time you try to make someone realize it.

I'm sorry about what happened, for I truly liked Albus. He didn't speak to me as if I suffered from some mental illness when I was young, like mother and father used to. In fact, he never really spoke to me at all; maybe that's what I loved about him so much. In his quiet, calm, presence I was left in peace, yet I wasn't lonely.
No one dared to interfere with Albus while he was immersed in his books. He was the family's shining jewel, its hope, the great eagle's wings that would bear the name of the House of Dumbledore out of the trash bin of the wizarding families in Britain. I myself had high hopes for him, so I always made sure to stay close to him when he returned home on vacations from school, so he would have to bury his nose in a book to escape my eyes, and maybe would learn a thing or two on the way.

Aberforth never got along with Albus. I don't think it was because of me - they were fighting as long as I could remember. That was until Albus reached the age where he decided to ignore his brother and invest himself entirely to his schoolwork. Even then, Aberforth continued to tease him for a while – he used to mock him on mealtimes, always tried to make fun of him.

One day he was throwing stones at the window while Albus was studying, until mother left the house, dressed in a dirty kitchen apron that did not match her noble appearance, and hit him so hard that I could hear his brain ringing like a bell between his ears.

Since then he has ceased to disturb Albus in his studies, but only for fear of our mother, and he has never forgiven her for that slap.
Oh, I know he never did. I can read Abi as an open book. He's my brother after all, just a year older than me, actually looks like my twin brother, and he's my best friend. He is hot-tempered, impetuous, brave, but full of bitterness toward the world. I'm the only person he speaks to about his troubles since we were very young. Sometimes I can close my eyes and imagine I'm in his head- I know what he thinks and what he feels. I could have been born as him and him as me, as far as any of us is concerned. But I'm not sure how well he would have handled it.

Therefore, I know the grief he felt when mother died was so deep and shocking it surpassed the shame of all the cheek slaps she could have given him. I could still hear his brain ringing between his ears with shock a month after he found me curled up in her cold bed under her arm.
He was recoiled by me for a few days after that incident. He couldn't understand why I did it, and it bothered him. I was sorry I could not tell him that I knew that perhaps the soul leaves, but the body remains. In fact, I think people make a mistake when they bury their dead to wither underground; they're just happy the old tiresome aunt or grandmother passed away, and they don't want to deal with them anymore. But that was my mother who was lying dead, and I loved her. I wanted to hug her for the last time - for if the soul carries on, what is the body for?

Albus came straight from school, wearing a beautiful robe and a scholar's hat, carrying a backpack full of textbooks, to bury his mother.
Abi told me, "He came to bury his mother", so I was a little disappointed when I realized he wasn't going to bury her himself. He only watched as Godric Hallow's gravedigger measured the coffin in the dieing twilight, then marked the grave and started digging into the night. I thought it would be nice to see him do something nice for mother, even if it was only to find her a cheap Parents' House deep beneath his feet.

After mother has been laid to rest under the earth, Albus tried to cook us dinner. Mother always said he was talented at potions, but when it came to cooking, he was a complete failure; half-burnt pots and pans bubbled about him, while he tried to control all of them at the same time. His combed auburn hair curled around his flushed face, and flour and gravy stained his beautiful robe and his glasses. He was not much older than me and Abi, but he looked much more mature; he was an educated wizard, tall and serious, while we were a pair of ignorant village children with small brushed knees and manes of fair hair.
I thought his efforts were quite amusing, but Aberforth was not amused; He gave his brother a serious look, crossing his arms on the table stubbornly, criticizing his every move. Suddenly, he reminded me of father.
Finally, Albus gave up. Looking at us carefully, making sure we won't notice, he waved his wand in a small motion. I don't think Abi noticed - nothing has changed in the rushing pots and pans - but I felt the spark of magic in the air, and it made me start scratching.

Miraculously, the food wasn't burnt at all, but it had a metallic taste. A taste of magic. I gave it an uncertain look.
"Eat, Arianna," Albus said softly. "Is there something wrong?"
Aberforth looked at me, expecting me to be repulsed by Albus' cooking. Apparently, he didn't really know me after all.
I shook my head and began to eat.
We ate in silence. I finished all the food on my plate in obedience, but later I threw it all up behind the goat pen.

Summer days rolled into one another, sunrise and sunset mixed up into dusk.

Albus decided that the house needs cleaning. Aberforth immediately objected. Nobody asked my opinion, but I was glad when Albus gained the upper hand; I always wanted to explore the contents of the cupboards and drawers mother always hid from us.

It was nice to clean the house. It was a bit like when we moved into Godric's Hallow, only this time, instead of pushing the photos and the letters into cabinets and locking them in there like a dangerous monster, we took them out, like a new baby coming into the world. I felt the tension between my brothers reducing, and that pleased me. I felt like I could almost open my mouth to speak - to tell them exactly what I think and feel, and how much I love them both. But then the cold East Winds broke the sequence of summer, and with that wind, arrived at Godric's Hallow a strange alien from a distant land.

I found him. Literally, because it seemed like he was hiding there, sitting on the bench behind the bushes in the dark. I ran through them and fell straight into his lap. Aberforth, who had been chasing me trough the park, came a minute after, pulling me close to him in protectively.
I smiled at the stranger. He was a wizard, I was sure; a gentle halo of magic surrounded him, and I could almost feel its static electricity running down his precious silk robes and in his hair of linen.
He returned me a mischievous, boyish grin. I liked him immediately. It did not bother him that he was in a muggle village, and was dressed in the height of wizarding fashion without any shame or fear. I loved it right away.
"Hello, little girl," he said softly in fluent English, but with a strange, catlike, accent. He looked at us both. "It is a little bit late for two children to play outside, no? I do not know how things are here, but in the land I come from, monsters prey small children who leave their beds after sunset."
"I wouldn't be surprised if you were a monster," said Aberforth in insolence, still holding me against his body.
The stranger laughed. "A very sharp tongue for such a little boy."
Aberforth frowned. "For your information, I'm fifteen."
The golden stranger raised an eyebrow. "Fifteen? Well, it seems that children here grow very slowly indeed. I am sixteen."
Aberforth looked at the stranger in disbelief. He was dressed neatly and in abundance that was foreign to a country boy like him, and his face was sharp, handsome. "I don't believe you."
The stranger shrugged his shoulders and studied his well- kept nails. "Not a big loss for me."
A shudder that passed trough the bushes and a scared owl that fled through the trees signed the arrival of Albus.
"There you are!" He exclaimed when he noticed his siblings. "What were you thinking, going out to play in the bushes at night? Aberforth, you know Arianna is not to be seen - This park is swarming with muggles -" his rebuke was interrupted when he noticed the stranger, still sitting in a relaxed, catlike grace on the bench in the shadows.

Albus blushed in the darkness and cleared his throat. "I was not aware that you had company..." He said in his most diplomatic tone and adjusted his coat.
"It is fine," the stranger said sweetly. "I was just talking with this charming boy about the age differences between us."
Albus looked even more awkward. "I apologize if he was bothering you, sir -"
The stranger let out a clear, rolling laugh. It certainly was a laugh of a sixteen year old boy, I thought.

He got up and stood in front of Albus. He was shorter then my brother, but the graceful and confident way held himself made him look higher than he was. He studied the other man from head to toe, and grinned. "I have heard many a- praise about the famous manners of the people of Britain, but I did not believe until this very moment." He reached for a handshake. "Do not let that worry you, my friend. My name is Gellert Grindelwald."
Albus shook his hand in hesitation, staring at his face.
"And you?" said Mr. Grindelwald.
"I…?" Albus mumbled stupidly.
"What is your name? If you have one, of course," said Mr. Grindelwald mischievously.
Albus blushed in a deep shade of crimson. "I have. Albus. I mean... My name is Albus Dumbledore."
"A pleasure to meet you, Albus," said Mr. Grindelwald. I noticed that he continued to hold Albus' hand despite the handshake was over.
Albus cleared his throat and introduced us. "These are my brother, Aberforth, and my sister, Arianna ..."
Aberforth did not respond. I smiled and waved. Mr. Grindelwald smiled back.
"A lovely name for a young lady," he said.
"You're new around here?" Albus asked, pushing his glasses up his nose as he did when he was embarrassed. "I mean, I've never seen you here before ..."
"You could say," said Mr. Grindelwald with a boyish shrug. "I am on a visit to my aunt, good Bathilda. She lives not far from here-"
"Yes, I know where she lives," Albus said excitedly. "I'm a very big fan of her writings. Her thorough review of the history of the expansion of wizards in Britain is extremely fascinating."
Aberforth made a rough sound of decry. He didn't like to read. Albus gave him a reprimanding look.
"Enough, enough," said Mr. Grindelwald. "Albus, you can not expect everyone to be interested in my aunt Bathilda's works – one must have much curiosity and a great understanding of the development of the inhabitants of Britain through the ages to understand them. I can testify that I was among the few in the school I used to attend, Durmstrange, which were able find interest in her fascinating writings. And I assure you that they are not missing bright students."
Albus looked excited, not knowing what question to ask the stranger first. "I'm sure we have much in common," he said excitedly. "Can I invite you for a cup of tea?"
"Gladly," said Mr. Grindelwald. Aberforth tried to resist, but gave up when he saw how excited I was to bring a guest into our home.
I clucked around him all the way to our house. I have never felt such a strong need to talk, to express my excitement, but I'm afraid that even if I could've done that I wouldn't have been able to get a word into the passionate conversation my brother had with Mr. Grindelwald.
I was so enthralled that I was allowed to stay in the company of a stranger that I didn't mind to let my place be taken. Therefore, the stray puppy soon became the Master, and the enthusiastic Lady became the faithful pet.

Once I found a book about vampires among Albus' textbooks. I didn't read a lot of it, because it had illustrations that frightened me, but I understood that a vampire was a dark creature that survives by sucking the blood from other human beings, and it can enter your home only if you invite it in.
Alas, Gellert Grindelwald was a vampire in our family that summer. We had let him in willingly, but instead of sucking blood, he sucked the love and brotherhood that existed between us, feeding off our quarrels, breaking the connections created between Albus and us with vicious bites. The friendship that was created between him and Mr. Grindelwald was so deep, and was made so quickly, that it was frightening.

In the first days after the meeting at the park I used to see him arriving at our house in the morning, when I was helping Abi in the goat pen. In the evening his pleasant voice would cradle me in incomprehensible words through the bedroom wall as I lay in bed. Thus, after a few weeks he had become one of the inhabitants of the house.
Soon enough Albus stopped cooking his half burnt meals and the housework was imposed entirely on Aberforth and on me, his loyal assistant. Our brother locked himself in his room all day and all night with Mr. Grindelwald, and didn't even allow us to come in to clean. Occasionally one of them would leave the books and newspapers to eat something or get some air, but if they both found themselves in our company, they seemed not to notice us; they were always talking in hushed tones about things we didn't understand.
But I didn't blame Albus. I wasn't angry with him. I, imprisoned in my bell jar, knew better than anyone how he felt; a bright young man that his achievements were out of reach, because he had to stay at home and take care of his bitter brother and mad sister.

My affection towards the stranger continued into the summer. At first, he and Albus allowed me sit with them when they were talking so I could look trough books; Mr. Grindelwald brought along all sorts of interesting books from his homeland, and I loved looking at the beautiful images they presented, even if I couldn't understand the language in which most of them were written.
One day, as I was slowly reading a confusing but attractive book that was written in Old English, Mr. Grindelwald asked my brother why I was staring so long at pages with no images. Albus told him that I was reading. Mr. Grindelwald was surprised that I could read, and that evening he went to his aunt's house and returned with a stack of books, which he put in my lap and ordered me to read.
I swallowed these books avidly. Aberforth was angry that I stopped helping him at home, but I didn't care. I didn't even care that I wasn't permitted to sit in Albus' room anymore. My desire to know about the world outside Godric's Hallow has never been so strong, and the desire to please Mr. Grindelwald (which probably thought I was simply dumb) was almost as strong.

Aberforth hated Mr. Grindelwald- This was apparent. He also hated Albus for ignoring him, and being entirely absorbed in his study with his new exotic friend. But I realized my dear brother hated everything in the world - until he lost it.

August has arrived, hot and sweet. I found myself more and more interested in my brother and his close friend's businesses.
In the corner of the wall that separated Albus' room from my and Abi's was a small hole. When I lay on my belly and peeked through, I could clearly see the two men sitting around a table piled with books, their robes resting on the backs of their chairs and their shirts sleeves rolled up. They filled parchment sheets with small neat handwrite, giving each other remarks, mentioning concepts and ideas I didn't understand, sending to each other smiles across the table... Soon I lost interest in their discussions, concentrating only in those smiles; in the mysterious exchanges of looks, in the random exchange of touches, that were passed intentionally or unintentionally, as they went past each other, or as one bent next to the other's chair. Albus often apologized and blushed, even when Mr. Grindelwald was the one to touch him. However, Mr. Grindelwald just gave him mischievous smiles. I knew he was doing it on purpose.

At night I would lie in bed listening to their quiet conversations, that were composed entirely of sounds and voices I wasn't able to connect to words.
One fateful night, I watched Aberforth sleeping tight, his brow furrowed in concentration- he seemed very old, not at all fifteen. After a while I rolled to my side, pressing my face into the cool wall. I sank into sleep, allowing the sounds of the night to cradle me.
A short sharp voice that came from the next room woke me up. I opened my eyes, waiting to hear the curious voice again - it was so short, almost thought I imagined it. There was a long silence, but I continued to stare at the wall in concentration. Then it came again - more quiet and soft, but persistent. It woke something in me - something that began to move uneasily, looking for its place in confusion.
I stared into the darkness, not knowing what to do with my eyes, or with any other part of my body; I simply stared, completely absorbed in the mysterious voice. It was a human voice, I realized; not only because it came from a person, but also because it held within it a sweet and deadly mixture of feelings and emotions which I drank thirstily in my loneliness.
"Gellert ..." My heart skipped a beat. I knew it was Albus' voice, although it did not sound like him; its clarity and softness stunned me. Something more in his voice awoke queer feelings in me which of their existence I was never aware.
I got out of bed and went out into the dark hallway. Albus' door was open to a crack, and I glanced through it curiously.
It was a strange sight. Albus was sitting in his regular chair, without his glasses and shirtless, his body hanging limp- not upright and strict as ever. However, stranger than that was the fact that Mr. Grindelwald was sitting naked in his lap, a bit like a child sitting in his mother's lap or a kitty on the knee of his master, his arms wrapped around my brother's neck. Their mouths were open and covering each other, as if one was trying to swallow the other. They were moving slowly, and I noticed a flash of pink color between their mouths – a tongue.
I could almost feel the heat rising between their bodies radiating on my face, and I suddenly realized how cold I was. My chest swelled with a prickly, distant, pain with the desire to experience such love like the one in front of me. Even half this love was enough to thaw my frozen heart and fill it- make me happy as I never hoped to feel before.
The two parted. Albus, his bright blue eyes shining, gave Mr. Grindelwald a moist, admiring look. Mr. Grindelwald eluded his gaze and rested his head on his shoulder, smiling contentedly, like a cat that discovered the cream.
Albus stroked his curls of linen, and I felt a mixture of envy and admiration by the sight of the moment I was revealed to. My eyes filled with tears, but these were not tears of suffering - that was the steam that began to cover my bell jar.
"I love you," the soft whisper rose from Albus' lips. He was fascinated and in love, as if he found the most perfect book in the world.
Mr. Grindelwald smiled against his shoulder, and suddenly it was obvious that he was only sixteen; a beautiful and brilliant boy, but lonely and a bit scared. He did not answer to Albus' statement, but green grooves that were revealed under his long lashes were overwhelmed with emotion that caused my heart to swell, and a tear to roll down my cheek.
I let out a little squeak of longing. The bell jar was cracking…
Grindelwald's catlike eye- slots widened in alert. He noticed me.
I spent the next few minutes in the center of a vortex of sights and sounds. Mr. Grindelwald started yelling at me, but I didn't hear what he was saying; voices who spoke passionately in me told me of what I missed while I was locked inside my head, and the harmony of the cracked glass squeaks gave them chilling background vocals.
Albus tried to calm Mr. Grindelwald - he touched his shoulder, spoke to him softly, as if hypnotized. Grindelwald ignored him and pushed him aside, continuing to move around like a trapped beast.
Aberforth emerged from his room, disheveled but alert, and a fight began immediately. They began shouting at each other, hurling insults, and soon Albus gave up trying to appease between the two sides, clearly moving to his friend's side. Wands were pulled out.
Curses were flying around, blinding me and confusing me. That was the first time in years I was seeing the world around me, and I was no longer an apathetic watcher from the outside – I was part of what was happening around me, and I was able to act accordingly. For the first time in eight years, I was Arianna. And when I saw my beloved brother Aberforth struggling with the furious Grindelwald, I was filled another new emotion - anger.
My body began to tremble, draining the last of my remaining trauma. Magic that remained hidden in my years of madness also rose, mixed with wrath.
"Enough!"
A shrill, angry sound cut the air. Only when the three of them looked at me, confused, surrounded by flying curses, I realized this voice came from my throat. How easy it was. Was it so easy all these years?
Magic radiated around me. I pulled it inside and let it out slowly. I could control it, and I could speak. My eyes filled with colorful lights.
It was the happiest moment in my life, and also the last.