The Dumbledore household was dark and cold when Albus opened the door and walked inside the unlit hallway. He was tired, his nose was broken, and, frankly, he didn't feel like lighting a lamp. Instead, he walked a few paces and slid down the cool white-plaster wall until he found himself sitting on the floor with one leg extended in front of him. He shut his eyes and took the first real deep breath he'd taken all day, wincing slightly as the air hit his swollen appendage. Exhaling slowly, he lifted his hand to massage his temples and hopefully wipe away some of the dried blood - it had stopped flowing freely a little while ago, though he was sure he looked like he'd just had a run-in with a werewolf all the same. To his surprise, he felt wetness on his cheeks and pulled his hand away to see if it was fresh blood. As it turned out, he had been crying and hadn't even noticed. For a moment, he wasn't even sure why he was crying.

Soon enough, of course, he realized that wasn't true. He knew why, and yet he didn't know why it was happening now. The funeral had already ended and he'd been fine - at least as fine as he could be as his younger sister was being buried. The memory brought with it an unexpected wave of grief and this time he felt the tears leaving his eyes, sliding down his cheeks, and dropping onto his clothes. He made no effort to wipe them away - this was his chance to grieve alone and he would take it.

A few minutes passed like this, his sobbing sending gentle tremors throughout his body and wetting his black robes where the teardrops fell. His wand hung loosely in his hand - he'd intended to light it but had never gotten around to it. He had also intended to mend his nose, but part of him enjoyed the pain, the same part that thought he deserved it. Another part, the calm and logical piece of his mind that was usually in control, told him this was nonsense; but today was not about calm and logic. Suddenly, Albus heard a thud on the door and hastily wiped his face with the sleeves of his robes as it swung open and a familiar figure stumbled into the house. The moonlight from outside briefly illuminated the boy's pale skin and bloodshot eyes, which were the same pale shade of blue as his own, as well as his messy brown hair and - rather disheveled looking - set of black mourning robes. It was his brother, Aberforth, who seemed barely able to stand.

Quickly as he'd opened it, Aberforth slammed the door shut with a loud bang and, leaning against it, fell to the floor as he slid down the cheaply painted wood. His head hung low as he sat with both legs extended in front of him in opposite directions and Albus imagined he had drunkenly fallen asleep. Letting out an audible sigh, Albus moved to get up and help his brother but as he was about to stand, he heard Aberforth hiccup and say, "Don't bother."

Albus knew when his brother was serious, even if he was slurring his words like the town drunk at the Three Broomsticks, and so decided to stay put. They remained this way for about five minutes, neither one speaking nor looking at the other. Then, Aberforth finally broke the silence by stammering, "Why-y'd you leave?"

Albus sighed again and shut his eyes. Without opening them he said in a quiet voice, "I just couldn't be there anymore," he paused, and added quickly, "and you broke my nose."

Aberforth snorted and let out a noise somewhere between a cough and laugh, "More like you couldn't," hiccup, "face being there anymore."

Albus opened one eye and stared at his brother, who had lifted his head and was now staring intently at him. "I'd imagine the guilt is overwhelming," continued Aberforth matter-of-factly, "or at least I hope it is."

Albus responded almost instinctively, though he still kept his tone as soft and even as possible, "You know this wasn't my fault, Aberforth," he pointed at the bloody mess that was his face, "you might be angry and you may even want to take it out on me, but you still know, at the end of the day, it wasn't my fault." The older boy was almost surprised to hear himself say this with such conviction, given the dreadful guilt he had felt ever since losing his sister, and...him, he thought.

"Shut up!" Shouted Aberforth unexpectedly, yanking Albus away from his thoughts, "You don't get to sit there," hiccup, "and pretend like this was all just an accident," hiccup, "that it was out of your control!"

Albus breathed deeply, his hand whitening as he clenched his wand tighter and tighter.

"What?" Asked Aberforth angrily, "Are you gonna curse me too?" He let out a loud snicker, "I can just see the headline now: gifted, brilliant Albus Percival Wolfric," hiccup, "Brian Dumbledore kills both of his siblings."

Albus kept his eyes closed and, as calmly as he could, said through clenched teeth, "I did not kill Ariana."

"DON'T YOU DARE SAY HER NAME YOU BASTARD! DON'T YOU BLOODY DARE!" Bellowed Aberforth from across the hall, his own wand suddenly clutched tightly in his hand and sending out small sparks into the air.

"Aberforth, calm down," said Albus, his voice gaining some strength.

"I will not calm down!" Said Aberforth inching forward to sit up straight all of a sudden, "I just buried my sister! Her body was thrown into a pit and covered with dirt and her killer is sitting right in front of me and I can't do a ruddy thing about it - how the bloody hell am I supposed to be calm?!"

Albus sat in silence, letting the tension hang in the air. Seeing his brother was not going to give him the reaction he so craved, Aberforth sank back down against the door and sighed in frustration, "I hate you."

Albus, his eyes still closed - mostly from exhaustion - said, "You're drunk."

Aberforth laughed again, "Right again, brother dear, but that just means I speak the truth, doesn't it?"

Albus said nothing.

Aberforth continued smirking at him maliciously, "Firewhisky's better than veritaserum, I reckon."

Again, Albus said nothing. Aberforth snorted. He had always found his older brother's ability to feign calm under any circumstance to be infinitely irritating. "Well if you're not gonna," hiccup, "give me an explanation as to why you didn't stop that monster from doing this, then at least tell me you're going to do something about -"

"That's enough," said Albus, his voice still soft, though he hoped his tone carried the implicit note of finality he'd intended with the words.

Aberforth chuckled, though his voice was softer than before, "You still care what happens to him, don't you? Even after all th-"

"Aberforth!" Shouted Albus, alarmed at his brother's boldness, "You don't know what you're saying, I don-"

"Oh piss off," Aberforth snapped, "We both know the truth and that's not what this is about," the brothers held each other's gaze in silence for a long time before Aberforth broke away and sighed, "not anymore." These words seemed to sober him up a bit and he regained some of his composure, bringing his legs in front of him and holding them with his arms.

Albus opened his mouth to say something but decided against it, instead looking down to inspect his wand distractedly.

"It used to bother me," said Aberforth as if speaking to the room and not to his brother, "what you...well, whatever, it used to bother me not just because it was him, but rather just because it seemed, well...wrong." He said this last word almost nervously and swore at himself, it was a lame finish to what he had hoped would be an angry tirade.

Albus stared at his brother, as if awaiting for him to continue his speech. To his surprise, Aberforth simply waved at the air in his direction, a casual gesture despite his previous anger. "I said it used to bother me," he finished.

"What do you want me to say to that, Aberforth? Thank you for not hating me for who I am?" Asked Albus, disbelief and annoyance almost comically plain on his face - in another life it would have even been amusing that this was the way he and his brother were finally going to discuss the blond elephant in the room.

Aberforth shrugged, "I just thought you should know that it's no longer the reason I hate you."

Albus actually laughed at this, a deep, rich and unexpected sound that came straight from his belly. Aberforth looked at him startled, but eventually even his lips parted into a small, sad smile. This went on for a few seconds, with the laughter slowly dying as they both remembered their circumstances.

After a few moments of silence, Aberforth spoke, his tone quiet and serious, "I want to know what you plan on doing to try and make this right, Albus."

Albus looked at his brother, it was the first time in two weeks he had used his name without intending to mock it. "You won't like it," he answered finally.

"But you are going to kill him?" Asked Aberforth. He sounded almost pleading, though his expression was blank, albeit his face made darker by the shadows from the moonlight streaming in from the small window in the hallway.

Looking down at this hands, Albus whispered, "You know I can't do that."

When Aberforth didn't answer, Albus looked up hesitantly, only to find his brother's face twisted into a terrifying snarl.

"Aberforth, I-"

"CRUCIO!"

Excruciating pain shot through Albus' body as he tensed up and doubled over, screaming and doing his best to not black out from the effort of not wetting himself. This went on for a minute or so, Albus' screams echoing throughout the house, before Aberforth finally broke off the curse and slumped back against the door, breathing hard.

Albus could barely move from the pain and only very slowly managed to prop himself up on his elbows, half crawling half scrambling to sit back against the wall. He tried to take in gulps of air to stay conscious but underneath it all he was the angriest he had ever been in his entire life. Still, when he could finally speak, he tried to sound level, perhaps only mildly annoyed, "Got that out of your system, then?"

"Not even close," spat his brother, clearly incensed once again by his calm.

"This won't bring her back," said Albus through gasps of air.

"Maybe not," said Aberforth poisonously, clearly regaining his senses more rapidly, "but I certainly feel a good damn better."

"Aberforth wake up!" Shouted Albus, losing his composure for this first time, "I loved Ariana with all my heart!"

Aberforth raised his wand again but Albus was quicker, "Expelliarmus!" He yelled, and Aberforth's wand flew out of his hand and fell near Albus' feet.

Furious, Aberforth yelled, "I TOLD YOU NOT TO SAY HER NAME!"

"Ariana, Ariana, ARIANA!" Yelled Albus, as Aberforth did his best to cover his ears and shut his eyes tightly. Tears now visible on his face.

"Gellert Grindelwald," said Albus shakily, his own tears threatening to overwhelm him, "that is who killed her, Aberforth."

"Oh right!" Yelled Aberforth, his face buried in his hands, "Thank you for reminding me of that complete stranger who just happened to cast a killing curse on MY sister. But wait!" He lifted his head and shouted in mock astonishment, "You seem to have forgotten!"

Albus glared at Aberforth, but the younger boy ignored him.

"You're the one who brought that monster into our lives in the first place! You're the one who said he knew what he was doing and that he would help all wizard-kind! What was that load of bollocks you used to say? For the greater good? Was Ariana dying," he winced as he said her name, only slightly, but it seemed to Albus as if the mere sound of the letters forced Aberforth to relive the moment the life left their sisters' eyes, "also for the greater good? Was it all for the advancement of our race? Tell me, Albus, what was your and dear Gellert's brilliant plan that us mortals could only possibly dream of comprehending? What was the big bloody picture that was so important your own sister had to die?!"

Albus was speechless, his mouth half-open with a retort that wouldn't come out.

"ANSWER ME!" Yelled Aberforth, sitting up on his knees but losing his balance and having to support himself with his arm against the door.

Albus looked at his brother, then at the wand at his feet and, steeling himself, made a decision. He picked up the piece of wood and handed it back to his brother. Aberforth reached out his hand and snatched it away from Albus, a suspicious look in his eye.

"What would you have me do, Aberforth?"

"Kill the bastard!" He snapped almost immediately.

"There has been enough death where Gellert is concerned," said Albus quietly, "and I will do everything I can to subdue and have him arrested. I will beat him down and have him sent to Azkaban for the rest of his life for what he did to Ariana."

Aberforth watched him, tightlipped, his eyes narrowing as he glared at him venomously.

"But I will not kill him," he finished.

Shaking with rage, and through clenched teeth, Aberforth looked at his brother and said, "Then if you won't do it just tell me where to find him and I'll go there and kill him myself."

Without missing a beat, Albus said, "He'd kill you. You'd lose. I do not mean to say you're weak, Aberforth, but you're no match for him on your own."

"I'm more of a match than you apparently!" He spat, "And yeah, he might do me in, but that doesn't mean I can't take him with me!"

"So you'd rather die than let him live?! Are you truly that stupid?! That hellbent on revenge?!"

"If it's for Ariana's sake," he said softly, almost to himself, "I'd do anything..." Aberforth was crying, despite the furious sneer on his face.

"Aberforth, she wouldn't want this for y-" he began, but his brother cut him off by pointing his wand at him again.

"Tell me where to find him," his voice was even and his movements were no longer clumsy and drunk. For the first time, Albus felt a small twinge of fear as he stared at his brother. He could see it now, plainly, the hurt and anger, so much anger, written all over his little brother's face.

"Aberforth, please calm down, I-"

"TELL ME!" He yelled, and Albus dropped his wand on the floor.

"What, you won't even defend yourself? Make me the villain on top of everything, you coward?!"

"No, Aberforth," said Albus gently as he stood up slowly, his arms raised in the air; Aberforth stood as well, his wand still pointed at his brother, "I just won't be responsible for your going to your death."

"I'll kill you," said Aberforth menacingly.

Albus sighed and said, "Better me than you."

"God, I hate you," said Aberforth, his words conveying all the pain and rage he was feeling in that moment. They washed over Albus like a wave of freezing cold water and he wondered briefly if there wasn't a Dementor floating around nearby...but no, there was no Dementor and Aberforth was not lowering his wand. Albus had no intention of fighting him, this was his brother's war with himself and he had to let it play out.

"I love you, Aberforth," said Albus, as sincerely as he could, tears threatening to return to his eyes, "You're not a murderer any more than I am."

"SHUT UP!" Yelled Aberforth, his own sobs making it hard to understand him, "You ARE a murderer! Tell me where he is or I swear to God I'll end you Albus! You're no family of mine any longer. I hate you," the unspoken words for what you did to Ariana hung heavily in the air, "and if you won't help me then you're only holding me back from what needs to be done. This is your last chance."

"Like I said, little brother," began Albus in a soft voice, "I love you and I want you to do what you must but I will not help you kill someone else or yourself!"

"Then you leave me no choice, Albus."

"Aberforth, please, don't make my mistakes - choose the light!"

"You already chose for me, brother," he said quietly, tears flowing freely down his cheeks, his eyes never wavering from Albus'.

His eyes widening in disbelief, Albus began to say, "Aber-"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" Yelled Aberforth.

A tiny fleck of green light escaped from the tip of his wand before it dissolved and left the two of them in the dark hallway, standing alone and both very much alive.

"Wha-?" Began Aberforth confused, his eyes still welling with tears.

"Aberforth, please stop!" Implored Albus, who was also crying freely.

"NO!" Yelled Aberforth, "It has to be this way! You have to pay! AVADA KEDAVRA!" But this time his wand didn't even let out a spark. He kept trying, frantically waving his wand and yelling "AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA! AVADA KEDAVRA!" Finally, he fell to his knees despondently, his wand still outstretched, and cried out to no one in particular, "WHY?! WHY CAN'T I KILL YOU?! I HATE YOU! I WANT YOU TO DIE!"

Albus closed his eyes as his entire body shook with a mixture of grief and anger but he knew there was only one thing to do.

"I'm leaving," he said flatly, and he picked up his wand and walked unceremoniously passed his weeping brother who was still on his knees with his arm holding his wand stretched out in front of him repeating the unforgivable curse uselessly at nothing. Albus felt so sorry for him but knew there was nothing he could do. He knew he could never speak to his brother again once he reached the door and opened it. Very quietly, tears falling in torrents down his eyes, Albus stood with his hand on the doorknob and whispered to himself, "You've got to mean it, little brother," and in one swift motion he opened and shut the door behind him.

He took a moment to slouch against the door and feel the cool night air against his skin as he cried out maddeningly into the night about everything from losing Ariana to why his brother couldn't have just killed him.

After about a quarter of an hour of this, he decided that enough was enough. Gellert Grindelwald had taken enough from him as it was. He still could never bring himself to kill another person, but he would be damned if he let what had happened to his family happen to anyone else's. With one last look at the house he had grown up in and the life he had just lost, he lifted up his sleeve to dry his eyes and said softly, in the direction of the door, "I am so sorry, for everything." Then, with a final loud crack, Albus Dumbledore was gone from Godric's Hollow.