AN - With the The Crimes of Grindelwald out, here's my take on the first meeting of Dumbledore and Grindelwald. I dedicate this to the amazing Broad Strokes prequel fan film - Dumbledore and Grindelwald - The Greater Good, which inspired this fic a few years ago. Their Gellert will always be my Grindelwald - I encourage you to watch it on YouTube if you haven't seen it already!

The Meeting of Two Minds

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments

Sonnet 116. Shakespeare

Albus Dumbledore stood outside the vine-laden cottage of Professor Bathilda Bagshot, his hand hovering over the oaken door. Normally a visit here provided a brief respite from the gnawing dullness of Godric's Hollow, but last time she had casually mentioned a visit from her Bavarian nephew and would he mind being introduced? Naturally Albus could not refuse on civility's grounds let alone disappoint a benefactor of such kindness, yet now he chaffed under the obligation. Yet another burden getting in the way of precious research time. What little of it Aberforth and Ariana left him…

Which was awful and unkind and all too common a thought infecting his head of late.

I suppose he'll be from Durmstrang too so I should prepare myself for some coarseness…

He sighed, biting his lip and looked back down the cheery ramshackled path to the front gate. If I can't manage a better grace I should come back another time. Professor Bagshot deserves that much courtesy at least…

The door opened and his heart sank.

"Albus, there you are!" Bathilda answered the door in a deep garnet dress, her blonde hair pinned in a knot on top of her head. "How nice of you to pop round. I was just talking about you."

"What a coincidence, Professor." Albus said, turning and forcing his face into the best approximation of a smile. "I- I can't stay for long, but I thought I would stop by just to introduce myself at least."

There, I've given myself an excuse if I require one.

"Well at least stay for a cup of tea. I'm sure Aberforth can manage till then." Bathilda's eyes twinkled and Albus had the uncomfortable impression she could read him far better than he would have liked. She waved him in, passed shelves weighed down with books and took his coat and hat.

As always the cosy cottage smelt of baking, woodsmoke and dried vellum. He wished that smell didn't seem more like home compared to the house next to it. Aberforth did try his best…

"Into the sitting room, Albus. I'll call Gellert down. He's been looking forward to meeting you."

"Has he?" Albus tried to inject enthusiasm into his voice as he edged around a tower of tomes that had grown since his last visit.

He could see it now - yet another dull exchange where he would have to pretend to be interested in the mediocre achievements of someone everyone assumed he would get on with because they were vaguely the same age.

Come on Albus, at least try not to be so stuck up! He chided himself, selecting his favourite chintz armchair and removing a selection of papers from it. If he's related to Professor Bagshot then he should at least be intelligent.

"Or perhaps not…" He smirked as he caught sight of notes on Uric the Oddball scrawled across the page he was holding.

"Oh I am sorry Albus, I meant to clear the living room before you came." Bathilda said as she took the notes from him. She stacked them neatly on a writing desk in front of the bay window that already teamed with scrolls, books and dried inkwells.

"Embarking on your great endeavour at last?" He smiled as he took a seat. "Although forgive me for my presumption Professor, but critics might not take the book too seriously if Uric the Oddball has a starring role."

"Nonsense, Albus." Bathilda said, taking his teasing in good humour. "Why, if I've learnt anything about Magical History, it's that the eccentrics are the ones that push us to new heights."

"My sentiments exactly, Aunt."

Albus stood up, intending to make a quip about jellyfish hats, but the joke died on his lips as Bathilda's hand swept towards a tall youth in black with blond, curling hair and an intense, evaluating gaze.

"Albus, this is my great nephew. Gellert, come in."

Blue eyes met grey and Albus felt a lurch in his chest.

"Albus Dumbledore."

"Gellert Grindelwald."

His outstretched hand was met with a firm grip and he struggled not to flush. He nodded, keeping up his polite veneer as any proper British wizard would, only to see a flash of merriment on Gellert's face.

Albus took back his hand, feeling mildly irritated. According to Professor Bagshot he was slightly older than her nephew so why then did he feel like the naughty schoolboy?

"Albus is exceeding bright, Gellert, I'm sure you will have lots in common."

"Yes I've heard the name. Even in Durmstrang you are famous, Master Dumbledore."

Albus had been expecting a veiled insult given Gellert's previous smirk so was instantly wrong-footed. "Oh, it's just Albus, please. And it's nothing really."

"Nothing?" The glittering eyes were back. "I'd hardly say 'Most promising contribution to Alchemy in Cairo' is nothing, Albus."

Albus's heart gave another lurch at the praise and the way the other boy said his name.

What is this?

Pushing the thought aside he smiled and at a nod from Bathilda sat back down. "Well, I like to apply myself."

Gellert took the opposite chair and leaned back, stretching out his legs with a careless grace Albus envied. "And yet you are here. Forgive my curiosity but I thought a man as promising as you would be on the Grand Tour by now."

Albus's smile dropped and he fought back the resentment that burst up in his chest.

"Albus is very devoted to his family, Gellert." Bathilda cut in quickly. He didn't miss the significant look the witch gave her great nephew.

Wonderful, so he knows I'm the newly appointed head of the family. Would that they all knew just how truly devoted I am…

Pushing down the sense of shame that perpetually dogged him, he accepted a cup of tea from Bathilda's floating tray.

"A noble sentiment - family." Albus couldn't work out if the tone was genuine or sarcastic. "And something I'm sure my great aunt thinks I could learn from." The blond boy took the other cup but his gaze was still fixed on Albus. "But you can't say this place isn't full of history itself. If you know where to look, of course."

Is he referring to the Hallows? No…most wizards think they are just a legend…

"Well you both know my feelings on the subject." Professor Bagshot chuckled and suddenly all Albus wanted was for her to leave the two of them alone.

"It's true, I suppose." He replied carefully. "Although with all due respect to the professor, it can feel like something of a backwater at times." He couldn't quite keep the bitterness from his voice.

"Then I hope you won't think me presumptuous to say I'm glad to have met you." Gellert's smile was infectious. "I was looking forward to exploring, but nothing beats meeting someone with the same interests."

"You've also studied alchemy?"

"Yes and I actually found your contribution very interesting along with your theories about dragon's blood. You know you had our Potions master at Durmstrang almost spitting fire himself saying that dragon's blood didn't work that way."

Albus found himself on the edge of his seat. "You wouldn't believe the amount of times I get that reaction! It's like-"

I can't say it. How arrogant would it sound? That I know better than-

"- like they refuse to see the truth because of your youth?" Gellert's lips were pursed and he set his untouched tea down with a clank. "When the reality is, it is they who are blind?"

Albus's mouth opened. "…Yes."

Is he a Legilimens too? He felt uncomfortable at the thought.

Gellert leaned forward, lazy ease replaced by seriousness. "Actually I would believe it. They are blind, Albus. What is worse - they are jealous."

"Jealous?" Albus laughed, hiding his shock. How many times have I thought that? How many times have I railed against the Establishment, feeling that they were holding me back? "Conservative, maybe…"

"I've heard the British are famous for their modesty. It's charming, Albus, but let's be honest, there are many who feel threatened by innovation, especially if it comes in the form of someone young, someone who might actually deserve the titles and accolades they have only gained through decades of toil."

Albus looked down. "Experience is to be respected." He mumbled and looked up sharply at the roar of laughter from the other chair.

"The archetypal gentleman wizard." Gellert grinned and warm giddiness spread through Albus's body.

He's laughing at me! Albus tried to force his face into stern affront but the teasing light in those grey eyes was impossible to hate.

"Experience is to be respected but what of talent, Albus? What of true imagination? In Durmstrang we believed that only the strongest, the ones that proved themselves constantly, had the right to stand at the top."

Albus had a sudden vision of a cold, dark landscape, of mountains, vast skies and powerful, brutal wizards standing on soaring pinnacles with their foes lying crushed beneath them. Gellert's face was foremost amongst them, staring down at him as he did now with that haughty cockiness.

"Are you suggesting I should have duelled them into submission?" He replied coolly.

Gellert laughed again. "Maybe. Perhaps it would get them to try something new at least, rather than just passing judgement on the rest of us."

"It sounds like you had a trying time at Durmstrang."

Gellert waved a dismissive hand. "I'm beyond that now, on to better things. Speaking of which I tried your dragon's blood solution in a compound of my own."

"And?"

"It worked as you said it would."

"You see! There are far more uses that can be made of it, I'm sure of that!"

The two boys didn't notice Bathilda smile as she was quite forgotten. She slipped silently up to her study, happy that her wayward but brilliant great nephew seemed to have finally met his match.

"I knew it would be good for Albus to talk to someone his own age." She said softly to herself as she took out an elegant old quill. And if anyone can keep Gellert on the straight and narrow it's Kendra Dumbledore's son.

Dipping the ancient quill in ink, she sat down to write a long letter to Gellert's mother.

Such good beginnings…

Albus's throat was dry. Periodically he tried to take a sip from his tea cup and then remembered it was stone cold.

Odd…

He kept meaning to ask about another drink but then Gellert would say something else and he would be lost, excitedly explaining his latest theories or questioning his new friend about his own thoughts and experiments.

I can hardly believe it. He thought, the steady thrill that had been building in his body bursting again into life. I can't believe someone like him would come here of all places. Finally something good is happening to me!

There was a brief pause in conversation as both parties stopped to gather their thoughts. Gellert was standing by the fire he had conjured earlier, one hand on the high mantlepiece, the other stretched towards the flames as if to catch them. Albus curled in the comfortable chair, his head on his folded hand and found his eyes tracing the other boy's proud profile. Light danced across the handsome face, turning it molten and cast his long shadow into the cosy room. Albus dared not speak for fear of breaking the moment.

Was it just this morning I thought I would be trapped here forever? Now I never want it to end…

Gellert's face, however, had dropped its perennial smirk. He stared at the fire with a concentration that was almost severe. A small tongue of flame pulled itself from the hearth and began to dance around his fingers.

"Freeze-flame. Wordless and wandless. Very nice."

"I'm not trying to impress you, Albus." Gellert's voice was soft but firm, and more flames gathered, encircling his outstretched palm like a fiery serpent.

"What are you doing then?"

"Thinking."

Albus raised his head. "Care to share?"

Gellert snapped his fingers abruptly and the flames were extinguished. "I think I've shared enough with you for one day."

Dismay dispelled the happiness Albus had been feeling but he covered it with courtesy. "I hope you don't regret it."

White teeth flashed and the dazzling smirk was back. "Not at all. It is perhaps a little surprising. I'm not usually given to talking about myself so much."

Albus's heart turned over again but he wasn't going to loss the opportunity to tease. "Aren't you?" He replied with an innocent look.

"You see," Gellert turned towards him, "already you know me too well."

Albus chuckled, feeling like he had consumed half a barrel of his father's firewhisky. "Not that well, I still haven't asked you why someone as brilliant as you isn't on the Grand Tour himself."

The grin dropped as fast as it had appeared. "That would be because I should still be at Durmstrang."

Albus's face fell. "Should be…" The words escaped before he could lock his mouth shut.

Away from the fire and facing towards Albus, Gellert face was now wreathed in shadow. "I was expelled."

Why? The Dark Arts? But they teach them there. What could he have done that would have been bad enough for Durmstrang to expel him?

Gellert's smile was slow and secret like a siren's song. "Ah but how could they expel such talented and affable person as myself?" He spread his arms in mock hurt. "Let's just say you aren't the only one that was held back by…how did you put it earlier? 'Conservative' witches and wizards." He turned towards the stairs and looked back over his shoulder. "Goodnight, Albus."

"Night?" Albus stood up, horrified to see the window confirming word with telltale blackness.

Has it truly been that long? Oh no, Aberforth! Ariana! I said I'd only be an hour at the most!

"It was good to meet you…"

"You too…" Albus replied distractedly, then realised how rude and inadequate that sounded about the wonderful discovery of their new-found friendship. He turned back to offer a better goodbye but ex-Durmstrang boy had disappeared up the stairs.

All thoughts of his siblings melted away.

I should have said-

-But what did he mean-

-Wish I had-

Damn.

He stood there staring stupidly at the place where Gellert had been, before realising how bizarre and embarrassing it would look if his new friend came back down and found him still gawking like a lost troll.

He saw himself out, wondering idly where Professor Bagshot had gone.

Until tomorrow then…

There was barely a minute's walk between the two houses but he stretched it out with several backward glances. A light was on in the Bagshot's small guest bedroom.

That must be Gellert, what is he thinking? Is he thinking about what I said? …Is he thinking about me?

Albus paused on another doorstep, this time his own. The light that shone through this door was the complete opposite of the one he yearned for. It spoke of interrogation not illumination. Aberforth would be sat the other side, by the stairs so he wouldn't miss his errant elder brother. Oh no, Aberforth never missed an opportunity to upbraid him, even if he did deserve it. Albus sighed, leaning his head against the wood, then glanced again at the narrow upper window in the Bagshot cottage.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough…

AN - Reviews and thoughts very welcome! I'm so glad to have finally finished this piece. Such an intriguing and ultimately heartbreaking dynamic. Also if you are wondering why Bathilda didn't come down and offer them lunch or dinner etc I suspect this was one of those rare ten hour first meetings between visionaries where she wouldn't have been able to get a word in and would have gotten the Gellert Glare TM if she'd tried to interrupt, poor woman.