"Gellert," Albus said, one day in the summer, "have you tried other Seer methods outside of waiting for prophetic visions or dreams?"

Gellert set down the book he was reading and looked at Albus thoughtfully. "I haven't. Durmstrang curriculum doesn't put much stock in the art of Divination. Divination is highly tainted by ridiculous Muggle-influenced beliefs, after all. There isn't much one can do to control or trigger predictions even if I do have a talent for it."

"Divination is still taught at Hogwarts."

"But that's Hogwarts," Gellert said pointedly. Even if he had been expelled from Durmstrang, he never failed to extol his school's virtues over Hogwarts every time and it usually irritated Albus.

It was irritating him right now, in fact.

Albus narrowed his eyes. He said, "Then we should test if certain Divination techniques are fallible or not. They could aid us in our search for the Hallows, you know."

Gellert's eyes flashed, merry bright blue. "Let's try it, Albus."


1.

"Again, Gellert?"

"Yes," Gellert said, looking at the tarot card in his hand. "The Tower."

It was the ninth time Gellert had drawn the card. Focusing on either Albus or himself had the same result.

"This is quite repetitive and absurd," Albus said. His earlier confidence had dwindled with Gellert's every draw. "The meaning is extremely vague, too."

Gellert checked the book open in his lap. "It's intended to symbolize change. An unorthodox or unexpected revelation. How one's ego can destroy a person. A new beginning."

"Which can mean anything," Albus said, with a sigh. "That sounds like a mix of positive or negative events and nothing specific. And why the same card over and over again for both of us?"

Gellert studied the book further. "The text also says to not make any risky investments. Ah, be careful with your galleons."

"I'll keep that in mind," Albus said dryly.

The flickering illustration on the card showed two men falling downward from a tower. Lightning flashed in the dark sky and the tower burst into flames.

"Perhaps we're both going to die tragic deaths in towers," Gellert said.

"This has to be a faulty deck."


2.

When Gellert went up to Albus' room the next morning, he found Albus surrounded by steaming cups of tea.

"Tessomancy today," Albus said, with a determined nod of his head. "I borrowed tea varieties from the neighbors and asked several of my Hogwarts acquaintances to owl their favorites."

"I see we're still persisting in these experiments, then."

"Of course."

Gellert began to banish the tea from several cups with a wave of his wand, so the leaves could be exposed. Then he noticed Albus sipping from a cup.

"Lemon tea," Albus said, smiling slightly. "Sweet with a tinge of sourness."

Albus tried another cup and made a face. "Black tea. Quite strong."

"This one smells like oranges," Gellert said. He gestured to a cup near him. "Maybe it's one of the sweeter ones you like."

Albus wandlessly summoned it, drank, and he nodded. "It is."

They cycled through the various flavors: oolong tea, white tea, camomile tea, green tea, earl grey tea.

Gellert watched as Albus alternatively winced or beamed, his expression warm and cheerful when he found a tea that he liked. It was…endearing, Albus' cheeks lightly flushed from the teas' heat and his blue eyes sparkling.

Gellert started to sample the teas as well.

They never did get around to reading tea leaves that afternoon, but neither of them minded.


3.

Gellert ran a tentative finger down Albus' palm, and Albus let out a muffled cough-like noise. Gellert repeated the motion, and Albus coughed again.

"—Are you ticklish, Albus?"

"A little," Albus admitted. "What do you see, Gellert?"

"Lines."

"Come now."

"Your life line looks fairly long," Gellert said. "And there's a curve branching out of your—" he peered at the nearby book "—head line?"

Finally, Gellert said, "I don't understand. It looks like a muddle of lines." He smiled in exasperation, pressed a kiss against Albus' palm, and said, "So, is this the last Divination experiment?"

He kissed Albus' hand again.

"You're supposed to be reading it," Albus said, affronted.

"Mm," Gellert agreed, kissing the side of Albus' wrist. He thought he could feel Albus' pulse against his mouth.

"Gellert Grindelwald—"

"Shh," Gellert said. He smiled mischievously, and he tilted his head up to bring their mouths together, and Albus was kissing him back.

They didn't get any palm reading done that day, either.


4.

They stared out of Albus' window, gazing intently at the blue of the sky. Frustratingly, they had yet to spot a single bird.

Finally-"Albus, look!"

"That's Elphias' owl."

Indeed, the tawny owl landed gracefully on Albus' windowsill, bearing a letter in its talons.

"Do postal owls count?" Gellert asked.

Albus shrugged. Skimming the book next to him, he said, "The Romans regarded all owls as ill omens. Meanwhile, the Greeks thought owls could be favorable signs if they came from the east and let out a call."

"I don't think he hooted," Gellert said doubtfully. "Which direction is east?"

Albus let out an abrupt cry. The tawny owl had impatiently raked at Albus' arm, trying to get him to accept the letter.

"That looks like an ill omen to me," Gellert said, and Albus sent out a wandless stinging hex at Gellert, making him yelp.


5.

"I've always wanted to have a unique magical bird as a familiar," Albus said, his voice wistful. "Parrot astrology is a form of fortune-telling practiced by Tamils. The birds pick up tarot cards."

"No," Gellert said firmly.

He was not going to bring a parrot home. Tante Bathilda would throw a fit, and where in Mordred's name would he get a parrot, anyway? British magical menageries usually sold owls, cats, and toads, and searching for the right magically-inclined parrot in Muggle shops sounded incredibly tedious.

And imagine a parrot that learned speech around Albus. It would never shut up. Gellert could only affectionately tolerate one of him.

"We could—"

"No."


+1

The dream was a never-ending series of flashes: spell fire, a long gnarled wand, a ring, a black mottled hand, a child's cry, a tower.

Gellert woke up, breathless, a scream caught in his throat, and he saw Albus lying beside him, looking concerned.

Albus had Apparated over to his bedroom that night, and they had fallen asleep, curled against each other.

"Are you all right, Gellert?" Albus murmured. He touched the strands of blond hair on Gellert's forehead.

It took several moments for Gellert to sort his thoughts, to remind himself to speak in English, to breathe.

"I had a vision," he said. "I can't quite remember it, but I believe it was about future possibilities for the both of us."

"I hope," Albus said, "there was a parrot involved."

Gellert laughed. "I don't think so. No, Albus, I saw the Hallows."

Albus blinked, then grinned. "That's brilliant."

"Isn't it?" he said softly. "I don't think the path to the Hallows will be easy—there seemed to be implications of misfortune and danger along the way—but it's attainable. It's not impossible."

"It seems I should have trusted your original Divination abilities from the very beginning," Albus said.

"You see?" Gellert said, smiling. "Come on. Let's go back to sleep. The future can wait for tomorrow."


Omake

"Aberforth, haruspicy is divination performed by examining the entrails of animals. For example, the liver-"

"You are not. Cutting up. My goat."

"You know, Albus, for once, I agree with your brother. The whole process sounds very messy."