DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters. That honour is held by J.K. Rowling, who made this pairing official - not that we wouldn't all have shipped it anyway - and thereby gave the world yet more conclusive evidence that she is a truly marvellous human being. Let us raise our glasses in her name.

Angels

Albus sat with his pen in hand and his tea in the other, thinking deeply over what to write to the person who had left only ten minutes previously. He knew that Aberforth in particular thought that the letters between Albus and Gellert were ridiculous and unnecessary – "You've been together all day and you'll likely do the same tomorrow!" – but Aberforth couldn't comprehend how wrong that was. Yes, they had spent hours together, planning and laying out their ideas for the future, but minds as brilliant as theirs never ceased to work on expanding and elaborating on such ideas, linking them together until they formed a glorious map of golden links and illuminating wholeness.

Ariana's sweet voice rose from beside Albus' chair where she sat on a large cushion manipulating her dolls into scenes of childish play.

"It's raining, Albus! Your angel will be soaked!" she trilled, sounding utterly delighted at the idea, and Albus made a concentrated effort to smile at her and reply kindly. Her childishness tore at him at times, the knowledge that she would never recover, never grow any older mentally than she had been when she was attacked, was painful beyond what he thought reasonable, and he sometimes had difficulty ignoring it when he was faced with her. He loved her dearly, and she adored him and Aberforth, but it wasn't always easy to even look at her. Their sweet little girl.

"My angel? What are you talking about, precious? Aberforth is in the barn, and you're in here. What other angels do I have?" he played along, and she laughed to herself and reached up to clasp his hand with both her slender white ones and sang,

"The angel, the angel, his wings never show,

The angel, the angel, Ari she knows!"

Albus smiled at her through the sharp pain in his heart, and tried not to let her see that he was upset. She couldn't help being damaged, it wasn't her fault. He had to be the adult here and keep her safe from hereon in. It didn't do to let her see that he wasn't happy, it upset her and that was the last thing they needed.

"Alright, darling, if you say so," he placated her, and she tugged at his hand insistently.

"Soaked!" she repeated, and he sighed quietly. Yes, it was raining outside and yes, anyone out there would be soaked, but other than that he had no idea what she was on about.

"Yes, precious, I know," he said sweetly, and she shook her head and let go of his hand, addressing one of her dolls.

"Albus is silly, but Ari she knows. The angel is coming..."

Albus looked at her with concern. She seemed relatively happy, if a little disappointed that he was apparently being silly, but some of her episodes did begin with her taking a superior line about something she knew, and if Albus and Aberforth didn't understand she could get quite upset with them. He really didn't want to deal with anything like that right now. It was a lovely summer evening, the storm was beating down upon the house, and he just wanted to sit here safe and dry with his little sister by his side while he composed a letter to Gellert outlining the laws missing in society.

The door opening abruptly seemed a death knell over Albus' plans for a quiet evening in, but when Gellert came through it, looking like someone had tried to drown him, and slammed it behind him in what was clearly a bit of a temper, Albus couldn't help the sensation of mixed gratitude that he was here again, and worry that it might set Ariana off in the strange mood she was in.

"Gell, what brings you here? You just left," Albus said carefully, trying to convey to his friend that it was likely best they tread softly just now, but Gellert was divesting himself of his dripping cloak and didn't notice Albus' look.

"Urgh, I don't know how you stand it, all this rain," the blonde boy complained, clearly in a funk over how wet he'd gotten on the short trip over from Bathilda's, and Ariana laughed loudly and flung herself across the room to wrap her thin little arms around Gellert, impeding his actions while he was only halfway out of his jacket.

"The angel, the angel, the angel came!" she sang, the words muffled by Gellert's chest, and he looked torn between his bad mood and Ariana's infectious childish joy. Albus couldn't decide what was better – that Gellert was soaking wet and his shirt was sticking to him in ways Albus devoted serious time to thinking about (usually late at night when he couldn't sleep anyway, or between missives from Gellert himself), or that Ariana's brewing tantrum had been so easily averted for the moment. He took in the fact that every one of Gellert's tightly wound golden curls was heavy and darkened with rain, and that Ariana had him pinned in a likely uncomfortable position halfway out of his jacket that meant that Albus could clearly see his upper torso through the soaked white shirt he was wearing. Hints of pink and beads of water...

Gellert himself snapped Albus out of this moment of weakness by giving in to Ariana's smiles and laughing at the whole thing.

"Of course I came, darling, how right you are," he acknowledged in the tone of voice Albus had noted he only ever used with Ariana, and she laughed and let go of him – he seized the opportunity to free his arms from the jacket and threw it on top of the cloak – only to reach up and grab two handfuls of his dripping curls and pull at them. Not hard, but enough to 'unravel' them slightly, and then she let them go and giggled when they sprang back to their original positions.

Weirdly, Gellert didn't seem to mind at all, and Albus knew his friend wasn't much of a one for physical contact. He didn't know why this was, but Gellert apparently didn't like closeness, and to Albus, who had a sister like Ariana who thrived on it, demanded it even, and had had a happy childhood with affectionate parents, it seemed a bit odd. Then again, perhaps Gellert's childhood had been stricter than Albus' own. That could be an explanation for it. While he mused, Ariana gave Gellert another hug, but this time she stepped back almost at once, looking down at her now slightly damp dress and exclaiming,

"It rained on me, too!" in a sharp, dismayed voice that had all of Albus' alarm bells ringing. He quickly crossed the room to them to avert disaster, but Gellert pulled his wand out of thin air and waved it over the sulking girl, drying her clothes for her.

"There you are, darling, no more rain for you," he said soothingly, and she patted herself and beamed at him.

"Why no rain for me?" she asked sweetly, and Gellert knelt down in front of her and with a little flick of his wand conjured her a tiny shining sun.

"Because you're made of sunshine, precious, and rain can't touch sunshine for long," he told her, and she ran her fingers over and through the little sphere of light and then looked at Gellert with large, sorrowful eyes.

"Sometimes, I am made of rain," she whispered, and Gellert nodded and whispered something back to her that Albus didn't hear, and Ariana's good spirits were restored to her in a heartbeat, the girl whirling around and going back to her dolls, singing,

"I told you Albus, the angel would come for us!"

Albus didn't reply, he just waved his own wand over Gellert and did him the service of drying his clothes and hair for him. He didn't really want to – Gellert looked ravishing soaked to the bone like that – but chivalry dictated he should and he couldn't argue against it by using the fact that he wanted desperately to just look at Gellert for a while longer.

"Why are you here, Gell?" he asked, trying to will away the thought of the blonde boy with droplets of water clinging to his eyelashes and skin.

"Aunty left me to my own devices – she has gone up to London to speak with her publishers. I thought I might as well waste my time here as there," Gellert replied offhandedly, drying his discarded garments casually, but Albus was spared a moment of insecurity at the 'waste my time' part of his answer by the twinkling in Gellert's eyes that said he meant it only in jest.

"I was just writing to you," Albus said instead, and Gellert walked over to the table Albus had been sitting by and glanced at the as yet fairly bare parchment that lay there with the oozing quill next to it.

"Now you can speak to me instead. Isn't that better?" Gellert asked, looking back up at Albus from under those eyelashes Albus spent so much time thinking about, and Albus took a deep breath and wished he wasn't so prone to blushing.

"Yes of course," he said shortly, and Gellert smiled that teasing, inviting smile at him and settled into a chair in that odd way of his that made him look at once incredibly relaxed and at home, and uncomfortably vigilant. It was something in his eyes that did it. Albus sat down as well, pushed such thoughts from his mind, and began to explain why he had wanted to write to Gellert and why he wanted his opinion. It was always easier to ignore Gellert's unfair perfection when they were engaged in one of their discussions. Albus' scholar's mind simultaneously raced, wept for joy that he could speak freely and without having to simplify things, and rejoiced that it was being honed by interaction with a mind just as complex and sharp as his own. The intellectual sparring meant he had to devote his mental resources to keeping up and contributing, and that left little room for fantasies he wasn't comfortable with having in the first place.

GGGGGGG

At some point during their conversation, Ariana grew interested in their interaction and crawled into Gellert's lap to watch her clever brother and his friend from the thick of it. Of course she didn't understand what they were talking about, it was much too complicated and fast for her to follow, but she enjoyed the energy between the two boys and liked that her serious older brother was so pleased. Albus didn't talk much at home, he spent most of his time managing the family and caring for her and Aberforth, or else researching things and submitting articles to various places which kept food on the table. Seeing Albus so animated and happy pleased Ariana, although her delicate sensibilities didn't allow for her to think on it as actively as all that.

After a while, she got tired, her earlier dinner and all the excitement setting in and causing her to fall asleep while still perched on Gellert's lap, the older boy having rearranged himself early on with an arm around her so she was lying on his chest and wouldn't topple off if he moved. The continued conversation between he and her brother did not disturb her, and she slept on until the two boys realised she was no longer awake.

"She fell asleep like that?" Albus asked in wonder, and Gellert shifted her slightly and pushed her hair out of her face.

"She did," he confirmed.

"It's late, she should have been in bed an hour ago," Albus said guiltily, and Gellert smiled at him and shrugged.

"She was happy," he said simply. Albus felt himself falling into Gellert's open, smiling gaze, and would likely have done something rash or uttered something foolish had Gellert's expression not changed suddenly to a frown that snapped him out of his reverie.

"What's wrong?" he asked quickly, a thousand options flying through his head – Gellert felt put-upon, Ariana was too heavy, he'd somehow managed to give his feelings away – but Gellert just nodded in the direction of the open door to the hall, and Albus turned to see Aberforth standing there, scowling darkly at the golden-haired youth who was cradling his slumbering sister.

"Aberforth," Albus said quietly, hoping his brother would be sensible and not shout or do something equally stupid in a fit of temper that might wake Ariana and upset her. Aberforth took a few steps into the room, pointedly ignoring Gellert, who didn't move at all except for his eyes which were focused on the younger boys approach.

"You kept her up," Aberforth accused Albus, and Albus spread his hands in a gesture of peace.

"We didn't – she was playing and she fell asleep. We didn't move her because she looked so happy," he explained, trying to placate Aberforth, who deigned to shoot another venomous glare at Gellert.

"Why'd she fall asleep on him? She's meant to be in bed – should have been in bed an hour ago! You said you'd take care of her," he snarled at Albus, who rose and put himself between his brother and Gellert, who put his other arm around Ariana and shushed her as a tiny frown appeared on her otherwise smooth forehead. He said something quietly under his breath to her in another language and it disappeared, a little smile replacing it instead. Aberforth's hand went to the pocket in which he undoubtedly concealed his wand. Albus took a step towards his brother, his hand latching on to Aberforth's wrist hard and muttering under his breath,

"Do not make a scene. She's asleep. We're taking her up now. If you want to argue about this we can do so in the morning – I will not have her woken for the sake of your petty jealousy."

Aberforth glared at his brother, who frankly loomed over him and was wearing a most uncharacteristic look of anger on his face, but ultimately he relaxed his arm and let it fall to his side.

"Fine," he snapped, turning on his heel and striding out – likely back to the barn. Albus took a deep, cleansing breath and turned back to Gellert and Ariana.

"My apologies – when it comes to Ariana, he takes leave of his sense of propriety," he said formally, and Gellert rose carefully, still holding Ariana, who didn't stir at all, and smiled at him, a tight, controlled look that belied his true feelings on the subject. Albus understood that Gellert was keeping a rein on his emotions so as not to upset Ariana, and his heart beat painfully at the effort he knew Gell must be making. The blonde boy was not the calmest of people and he was prone to reacting badly to provocation. That he was controlling himself for Ariana's sake made Albus weak at the knees. If Gellert had been impossibly attractive to him before, he was tenfold so now.

Together, they silently ascended the stairs and Gellert handed Ariana over to Albus, who quickly got her into her bed and tucked her in before closing the door, resetting the various charms he kept around the house and her in particular to alert him to any distress of hers, and relocated to the kitchen where Gellert was leaning against the table, running his fingers absently through his curls. If Albus hadn't been feeling emotionally drained in the extreme he would have taken a moment to appreciate the languid gesture, but as it was he collapsed ungracefully into a chair and put his head in his hands. When he felt Gellert's own hands on his shoulders, he almost jumped.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out, feeling humiliated at Aberforth's behaviour, upset that he couldn't do anything at all without considering his sister and brother, anger at Aberforth's jealousy and dislike of Gellert, and hurt and frustrated that he wanted Gellert to touch him so badly but couldn't let himself have even what Gellert seemed prepared to give. He kept his face hidden out of fear that he might actually cry if he had to look at his friend.

Gellert didn't respond to his apology except to dig his fingers into the tense muscles of Albus' shoulders, and despite himself Albus melted under the attention. This was the stuff that dreams were made of... He didn't realise he'd uttered a little whimpering noise that was completely unbecoming until it was hanging there between them and he couldn't think of how to cover it up.

"It isn't your fault," Gellert said softly, apparently suddenly right beside Albus' ear, his fingers continuing to work out the knots that Albus knew were caused by Aberforth's earlier behaviour. Albus felt, weirdly, completely surrounded by Gellert all of a sudden. He could smell him, he could feel his every breath, one silken curl brushed his cheek like a caress, and he was touching him as though he'd never done anything else, assured steady pressure that had Albus wishing he could just abandon reason and let his mouth run with all the things he wanted to say to his friend.

"It isn't your fault. You do everything for them. You can't help his ignorance, his jealousy – they are his burden to bear. Not yours. You should not have to feel they are." In some distant corner of his mind which wasn't a mess of hormones and want, Albus registered that he was actually being comforted by the one person in the world he didn't expect anything of the sort from. Gellert, who was so self-contained and brisk, who was brilliant and alive with thought, crackling with energy and never settled for a second into any one place, who relaxed this pattern only for Ariana. Gellert who might be his friend but who didn't have any kind of obligation towards Albus – who didn't need to comfort him however upset he might be – but was doing it anyway where Albus' own brother seemed to resent him on principal, who wouldn't give Albus a hug if he begged for one. Albus' family wasn't there for him, he had to be there for them all the time, instead, but Gellert was giving him the support he should have had from his family when he needed it most...

"Thank you," he managed, hoping he didn't sound as emotional as he felt, and Gellert put his arms loosely around Albus' neck and said,

"Someone has to tell you. It might as well be me..."

Filled with an overwhelming affection for this shining individual, Albus removed his hands from his face and turned in his seat to reaffirm his gratitude to Gellert just for being there, but he failed to calculate how close they actually were, and ended up about half a breath away from his friend, staring into his eyes in sudden shock. Gellert looked so completely unaffected by their unaccustomed proximity, apart from the concern that lingered in his eyes from Albus' melancholy, and Albus himself almost wished that the blonde would look just a little shocked or surprised or – or anything – that they were close enough to –

"What the hell are you doing?"

Aberforth's angry words rent the air and cut Albus to the quick. His constant guilt surfaced and choked him as he whipped his head around to stare at this brother and he would have torn himself away from Gellert immediately if the blonde's arms around him hadn't suddenly become impossible to break free of. Instead, Gellert kept them there and just turned his head towards Aberforth with a long-suffering look of irritation on his face.

"What does it look like we are doing?" he asked in a hard tone that Albus himself would never have taken with his younger brother. He couldn't help but feel gratified that Gellert didn't care that he was embracing Albus in front of another person, but at the same time that was just a depressing assurance that Gellert didn't have any reason to feel guilty over embracing a friend.

"It looks like you're putting your filthy hands all over my brother," Aberforth spat, and Albus felt affronted at this insult to Gellert's integrity.

"Aberforth, don't," he said firmly, detaching himself from Gellert and rising but keeping one hand on his friend's arm.

"I understand you're upset about Ariana – I know you usually tuck her in at night – but you weren't there and she was just sitting with us. You can't possibly be jealous of Gellert for being the one she fell asleep on," Albus tried to reason, but Aberforth didn't even seem to be listening.

"You're doing this on purpose – you're taking them away from me! Isn't it bad enough that we have no mother, why are you doing this?" he directed his angry question at Gellert, whose stony gaze never wavered for a second.

"Aberforth, you can't accuse Gellert of this, you know it isn't true – "

"You're so clever and you refuse to see it – he's blinded you and you don't care because you never wanted us to begin with!" Aberforth shouted at Albus, who flinched at the words, and Gellert moved in front of him slightly.

"How dare you speak to your brother like that? Have you any idea what your dissatisfaction, your eternal bile does to him? He does everything he can for you and Ariana – "

"Don't you speak her name! You're disgusting! Coming into my mother's house and seducing my brother, taking him away from us – and he won't stop you because he wants you to, don't you Albus? You like it – "

"That's enough!" Albus couldn't believe the things he was hearing from his brother's own lips, the hatred pouring out of him shaped like words, but his own voice cut through them and Aberforth shrank back. For a brief second Albus wondered how angry he must look to be able to silence Aberforth.

"I won't have you insulting a guest of this house. Take your childish envy and do with it what you will but do not display it in front of someone who is not a member of this family! Our mother taught you better and if you have lapsed so in her absence that is my failing, but you will not say such things where I can hear them, is that understood?" He realised he had stalked towards Aberforth when he was practically on top of him, and his own voice was alien to him – menacing and furious, low but no less dangerous for it. Aberforth looked to be brimming over with retaliatory remarks, but all he said, in a hateful undertone was,

"You would throw away your own family to satisfy your unnatural desires," and then he left the room at a run. Stunned and still breathing quickly from the onslaught of anger which he was so unused to, and the fear that Gellert might have heard and realised exactly what was going on, Albus was rooted to the spot for a moment until he heard the latch of the kitchen door and spun around to see Gellert escaping into the pouring rain without even having bothered to retrieve his jacket and cloak.

Terrified that Gellert knew now, and afraid that he had truly lost his only friend, Albus vaulted the table and ran after him. The downpour soaked his own unbound hair within seconds, and he ran through puddles and almost fell before he reached the other boy. He grabbed Gellert's hand and pulled him back, the blonde turning around to face him with a blank expression on his face that gave way to fury, and Albus couldn't decide whether running away or pleading was the best option.

He didn't have to make that decision, because Gellert threw his arms around him and kissed him soundly, effectively wiping Albus' mind blank. Albus registered that he had wound his own arms around Gellert's waist and was clinging to him like a drowning man clings to salvation – he surely felt like one – and he felt Gellert's heart beating through his once-again soaked shirt, the skin under his fingers warm despite the rain. Gellert pulled away slightly, that look of anger still on his face but his eyes full of sorrow, and he wiped Albus' cheeks and said,

"It wasn't your fault, I'm sorry, forgive me, it isn't true," and Albus couldn't think of anything to say except,

"I know." Gellert closed his eyes and resumed breathing, and Albus raised a hand to run a shaking finger along Gellert's perfect cheek.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me?" he asked in a single exhalation, and Gellert kissed him again, pressed up against him as though they were too far apart even while being the closest to one another that they had ever been, his hands in Albus' hair as he bruised the redhead's lips and Albus buried a hand in his curls.

"Always," he whispered in Albus' ear, and whatever little doubt or fear Albus still felt left him in that moment, drenched as he was and standing in the open in the light of a cast iron street gaslight, his arms around another boy. Not in any of his fantasies had he ever dreamt anything so perfect.