A/N Ms. Rowling owns these wonderful characters.
Gellert Grindelwald wasn't a man for sentiment.
He was however quite shaken to see the so very familiar blue eyes twinkling up at him once more.
It was as if someone had taken his memory and traced it, but the artist's hand had been shaky, leaving a few imperfections behind. The nose was more crooked than Gilbert could remember, perhaps broken a second time. The hair which was once an stunning auburn had faded into a weathered grey. Even though his smile was open and cheerful, the man looked like he had aged thrice his years. But the eyes, twinkling cerulean pools, hadn't changed a bit.
And they were once again x-raying Gellert, gazing at him with hope, pity, and oh dear Merlin, forgiveness.
Gellert sunk further into the wall, tightly wrapping his ragged blanket around him as if to shield himself from the intensity of Albus Dumbledore's stare. Even though thousands of miles separated Hogwarts and Numengard, he could not shake the feeling that Albus was reading his mind once more. And any moment now he would offer his own thoughts, that both provoked and inspired Gellert at the same time.
But alas, that was many years ago. A new generation of witches and wizards had come and gone and the Most Feared Dark Wizard of all time was nothing more than a silhouette of man, forgotten even by the wizard who stood by him for so long.
If he had listened, if he had just stopped when Albus told him to...
His fists clenched and unclenched, fighting the tears that were threatening to spill. The regrets that gnawed on him occasionally had turned into a terrible many fanged monster.
And just like that, the piercing eyes were gone. Dumbledore's visage had left the little rectangular card he was holding; the frog made of chocolate lay croaking and forgotten in a corner.
Gellert turned the card over in desperation. With a voice hoarse from age and lack of use, he uttered, "Come back."