A/N: Here is my new story at last. It explores what would have happened if Ariana hadn't died so tragically, and Dumbledore and Grindelwald had been able to go ahead with their plans for world domination. This whole thing is AU, even the way the argument goes down (in the book, they duel in the house; in this fic the slight bit of arguing that goes on is outside in the yard). And to the best of my knowledge, this plotline hasn't yet been done on this site. So I hope you enjoy! And please review to let me know what you thought.
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"Revolutionize Me"
by A Darker Angle
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There is a voice inside my head
It is my conscience;
It is the voice of truth
It tells me what to do and what to do not,
Where to end and where to begin;
When to vanquish and when to submit;
When to quit while I am ahead
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"What a Difference the Lack of Anger Makes"
August 20th, 1899
The wind was cold that morning. The leaves of the tall trees overhead were already showing tints of red, blown as they were by the strong breeze. They were visible from the young man's window, and he sighed with mixed emotions as he realized, Wow. It's already August 20th. Almost autumn; almost time to return to school.
Only, he wouldn't be going to school this year. He was sure of it. It was far too dangerous, and there were too many things to get done. He couldn't leave this place – not when his brother and that infuriating friend of his were obviously out of their minds, not to mention far over their heads with their dreams of world domination. He couldn't go away and leave behind an unbalanced sister who needed him, now more than ever.
Albus Dumbledore may have been too overwhelmed with his thoughts of power and his new world order with Gellert Grindelwald to see the light of day, but Aberforth had his own ideas. If he left now, someone would have to take care of Ariana. She could not be left alone for a moment, let alone a month or a year. Albus, he decided, needed to clear his mind of all the nonsense Grindelwald was feeding his mind before Ariana was forced to suffer the consequences. And without the prospect of Albus actually being responsible, Aberforth would not set foot out of this house.
He decided not to make this clear to Albus until absolutely necessary, though. He was sure Albus would have a fit upon learning that his younger brother was not planning on returning to school. Aberforth was, after all, to be beginning his fifth year already – and Albus, authoritative as he always was, would not be impressed with his brother's "unruly" decision.
All of these thoughts, and many others, surfaced within Aberforth's mind as he left his room, turned the corner and headed lef to the end of the hall. He walked downstairs, steps creaking loudly under him, and into the kitchen, stomach already grumbling with morning hunger. What's for breakfast? He wondered, and seeing as he was alone in the cold-feeling kitchen, he headed to the left-hand cabinet to find out.
Upon heavy inspection of the Dumbledores' single provisions cabinet, and upon finding virtually nothing, Aberforth finally extracted a stale loaf of bread (exactly how old it was, he did not know – Albus had been neglecting doing groceries in the neighboring city lately) and a half-empty pot of strawberry jam. He got up from a kneeling position, set his things onto the counter, and hastily spread the jam onto two slices of bread. He reckoned he would heat the bread over the fire afterwards, just to give it a bit of a fresher taste.
Content with this idea, and concentrating on the idea of breakfast, Aberforth almost did not hear the front door open and close quietly shut. And only vaguely did his mind decipher the footsteps he heard across the hardwood floor, heading toward the stairs…
'Where have you been?' Aberforth asked stiffly, turning around to face his older brother, who froze in his tracks inches from the staircase entry. Aberforth realized, in disdain, that he was undoubtedly able to answer his own question.
Albus Dumbledore looked rather haughtily back at Aberforth, examining him through half-moon glasses. The expression on his face sickened the younger boy – it confirmed his suspicions that his older brother had always held him (his illiterate, goat-breeding, nutter, irrelevant younger sibling) in contempt.
'It's none of your concern where I've been,' Albus said, but softly. 'What's for breakfast?'
Aberforth sighed, exasperated. 'Honestly, Albus, I'm not that stupid. You needn't give me any of that "What's for breakfast?" bull, all right? Stop changing the bloody subject like that every time, it gets old.'
'You needn't concern yourself with my business,' replied Albus coolly.
'Your business?' Aberforth laughed sardonically. 'Right. Honestly, I don't give a rat's arse where you've been, but at least have the courtesy to tell us before you leave for an entire night. Ariana was scared, she knew not where you were…'
Albus said nothing for a long moment – he looked down at the ground, and Aberforth knew he was ashamed. He'd never been very good at hiding his feelings, his older brother, especially not from his family. Aberforth felt, despite himself, a surge of pity for the young man standing awkwardly in the doorway to the staircase.
'I'm sorry. I should have told you,' whispered Albus, looking up at Aberforth again. 'Gellert came to fetch me, and I forgot. I didn't mean to scare you and Ariana, Aberforth, you know that.'
'Yes, I know,' Aberforth said, and smiled half-heartedly. And berated himself for smiling and forgiving too easily. 'All is forgiven, brother.'
They settled themselves at the kitchen table, talking and laughing as two brothers should. Since Grindelwald arrived their relationship had suffered, but each time Albus made a mistake concerning his family, Aberforth hoped he would learn.
He never did. But perhaps, Aberforth thought in a fleeting hope, their relationship as brothers still had a chance to somehow improve.
No less than ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Aberforth did not have to even momentarily wonder who was calling so early in the morning – he groaned interiorly. But before he could, as he usually did to torment Albus, sarcastically inquire, 'Oh! Why, I wonder who that could be!', Albus had leapt from his chair, hurried across the floor, and opened the door to reveal an uncanningly handsome young fellow, smiling somewhat lazily, and holding a book. Upon the book was inscribed – and Aberforth rolled his eyes – that stupid, stupid, stupid symbol Albus was always drawing everywhere. He'd yet to learn what it meant, and was not entirely sure he wanted to know.
'Here,' said the blond boy on the doorstep. His slightly large, intelligent hazel eyes swept the kitchen, settled on Aberforth for a moment with barely concealed despise (a look which Aberforth eagerly mirrored), and returned to Albus. 'You left your book. Batty almost spilled tea all over it again, silly Batty… I do believe she's losing her sense a little.'
Albus laughed. 'I've had my doubts about her sanity on many occasions. Thanks for bringing my book – shall you stay for breakfast?'
Aberforth rolled his eyes again. 'No, he shan't stay for breakfast,' he snapped to Albus. Turning with a look of hatred to Gellert, he added, 'Away with you! Haven't yet gotten the hint your presence here is not appreciated, or what? You don't have to be here every second, I'm sure Albus can survive without your constant -'
'Aberforth!' Albus shouted, spinning around to face his younger brother. There was no contempt in his face now, only anger… and perhaps a bit of momentary hatred. 'Take back those dreadful words! Gellert is always welcome here -'
'By you, maybe,' interjected Aberforth. 'The rest of us, in case you haven't noticed, cannot stand the sight of him.'
'That's a lie!' Albus yelled. 'You, Aberforth, are the only one for whom Gellert is a problem! Ariana likes him all right, so you'd do well to get over your jealousy. Just because you haven't any friends gives you no excuse to shun others'!'
He turned back to Gellert, still standing on the doorstep, silent and unmoving. The look on his face was indecipherable… Aberforth detected maybe a bit of hurt, maybe a lot of anger.
'Gellert, my brother knows not of what he speaks,' Albus told him, softly defiant. 'You may stay if you wish to do so.'
'It's all right, Albus,' said Gellert coldly. 'I know when I'm not wanted.'
Without another word he turned on his heel and set off across the dewy lawn, heading back toward Bathilda Bagshot's house – just next door. His golden locks seemed to glow in the sunlight.
Albus stood in the doorway for a moment, clearly torn between racing after Gellert and staying put to leave well enough alone. Eventually, when Gellert had disappeared into his own home, Albus stepped back inside the house, slamming the door behind him. With a foul, outraged glare at his younger brother he stomped across the kitchen floor and tore loudly up the stairs. Aberforth winced as he heard another door slam shut a few moments later.
Indeed, Albus Dumbledore had never been very good at hiding his feelings. Never very good at all.
August 21st, 1899
'Gellert, pass me that…?' asked Albus distractedly, poring over the pages of an open book. Gellert passed him a notepad lying on the ground, and, quill in hand, Albus began to scribble frantically.
They were sitting at the edge of the forest bordering Godric Hollow's small graveyard. Being the location of the grave of Ignotus Peverell, the initial owner of one of the Hallows, it was a rather symbolic location for Albus and Gellert. They often came here, day after day, to finalize and perfect the plans they'd spent countless hours putting into place: plans to revolutionize the wizarding society as they knew it.
Would they be able to? There was no doubt in either Albus's or Gellert's minds that they'd be able to. However, at the present time they had many factors working against them. For one, they had no idea where to begin, or even where to go from here. It was the only missing piece of the puzzle they'd created, but sadly one of the most essential. For another, Aberforth refused to cooperate in any which way with their plans, and hated Gellert on top of that… in fact, Albus was beginning to seriously anticipate a household revolution of it's own on his younger brother's part. He'd never been the more sensible of boys, really, but Albus hoped he would have enough sense not to destroy the house in the midst of his blatant moping.
'Are you all right?' inquired Gellert, snapping Albus abruptly from his thoughts.
'What? Oh, of course,' replied Albus. 'I was only thinking.'
'Having second thoughts?'
Albus frowned. 'Of course I'm not! I only think of the mess Aberforth is going to make of my life when he decides he's had enough of all our planning.'
It was Gellert's turn to frown. He looked Albus straight in the eye, almost defiantly.
'It isn't of his concern what you decide to do with your life,' he said. 'He is bitter only because never will he be as brilliant as you are.'
'Gel, you've got to admit I have been ignoring them a little…'
'No, I haven't got to admit,' Gellert spat. 'Your brother's selfishness makes me so angry. You've a need to live just like he has, he should stop placing so much burden on you.'
'You're only saying that because he had a complete fit against you yesterday,' Albus joked half-heartedly, putting his book down on the ground by his knees. He looked at Gellert, who didn't seem very impressed.
'Albus, I'm serious.'
Albus sighed. After two months of knowing Gellert, Albus had finally gotten used to the idea that when his friend was in one of those moods, there was not much sense in arguing with him. It was by far more productive to simply let him rant and have it done with.
'Your brother sees not what we see, Albus,' Gellert continued, excitement slowly seeping into his voice. 'That there is a better world only waiting to be discovered. God, Albus, the world practically screams, "revolutionize me!" – can't you hear it? These are the cries of the wizarding world, my friend, and we were destined to hear them. You and I, we can do something, make this world a better place for all wizards and Muggles and magical creatures alike, with you and I as leaders of the fantastic revolution. It will be a change for the greater good, you'll see. You shouldn't worry only about your brother in a time of such urgency… can't you hear the world call out to us? All our plans are ready – we've spent a long time. Now all we need to do is watch them come to life.'
August 22nd, 1899
Sunshine existed not in the skies as Gellert Grindelwald wandered away from the home of Bathilda Bagshot, heading, as usual, to the neighboring house. Gellert felt a nervous premonition… it appeared, from his point of view, that his best friend's home looked a hint more glum than usual. He shrugged it off – after all, it was probably only the rare rain clouds looming above him, casting a shadow on the somewhat shabby household.
He climbed the three stone steps and rapped on the door. And just as he did, he thought he heard the sound of a voice from within. Dangerously curious as always, he unceremoniously pressed his ear against the wood of the door… and sure enough, the sound of raised voices greeted him.
Gellert sighed in frustration. Aberforth, the worthless git, was undoubtedly once again on Albus's back about something or other.
If only he wasn't Albus's brother, thought Gellert vengefully. I'd make well sure he learned his lesson…
He knocked again, for it was rather unlikely Albus had heard his previous attempt over all the noise.
'Aberforth, you are going back to school!' Albus shouted, his voice full of rage, and it sounded to Gellert as though his friend was standing just on the inside of the door. 'Even if I have to tie you up and drag you there myself, you'll go!'
'Drag me if you must, dear brother,' replied Aberforth condescendingly from farther away, 'but I shall not stay until I am absolutely sure our sister is safe!'
'Nonsense, Aberforth!' yelled Albus angrily, and the volume of his voice increased exponentially as the door swung open. Albus looked at Gellert, a little embarrassed, and his expression softened instantaneously.
'My friend, is this a bad time?' asked Gellert uncomfortably. Looking into the house, he could clearly see Aberforth, red with rage, standing just behind the kitchen table.
'Not at all,' Albus replied. He added loudly and rather disdainfully, 'Aberforth and I were just finishing.'
He moved to join Gellert on the doorstep. They ventured out into the yard, leaving behind the angry figure of Albus's younger brother – but before they could take even five steps, Aberforth had dashed after them, jumping out in front with a look of stubborn defiance.
'No,' he said firmly as Albus and Gellert halted in surprise. 'All right? You'd better stop this right now, both of you. You'd better give it up. I've had enough of it, I have! You can't move her, she's in no fit state to tag along with you in whatever nonsense you plan to pursue. While you're travelling around and making your speeches and gathering a big old following, what will there be for her? Do you truly think she wants to accompany you? Do you think Ariana wants to take over the world?'
'Aberforth, Ariana is perfectly capable of -'
'SHE IS IMBALANCED, ALBUS!' Aberforth shouted. 'And I have had it up to here with him,' he pointed to Gellert, 'and with your plans, and with your Hallows! I am not returning to school while YOU are solely responsible for Ariana's safety! There IS no safety with you!'
'I beg your pardon?' Albus asked, his tone dangerous. But before Aberforth had a chance to reply, Gellert had stepped forward, looking him full in the face.
'You stupid little boy,' he said with disdain, 'trying to stand in the way of your brilliant brother – can you not see he's made for so much more than this? Do you not see, boy, that your sister needn't be hidden anymore? We will take her with us, we will take all precautions to ensure her safety, and soon she will be naturally safe in this world. We are going to lead the wizards out of hiding, show the Muggles their place! You needn't worry about Ariana!' The anger was rising in his voice now.
'Ariana is not safe anywhere!' Aberforth argued. 'Not anywhere but here in her home!'
Gellert frowned, whipping out his wand, and said scaldingly: 'I tried to reason with you.'
He raised the wand, pointed it straight at Aberforth's chest, and…
'STOP!' Albus cried, grabbing Gellert by the arms and pulling him back. Gellert dropped his wand in surprise.
Albus was not angry. And in that moment, Gellert knew that Albus would not let him act upon the greater good. Fighting his friend's brother was out of the question.
'Albus,' he said calmly, 'Your brother refuses to listen to reason. Something must be done. We cannot let him stand in the way -'
'Something will be done,' Albus said. 'But we shan't be the deliverers of such justice. Eventually… Aberforth will learn. On his own.'
'What do you mean, I will learn?' Aberforth yelled. 'YOU'RE in the wrong here, not I!'
But Albus and Gellert were already walking down the drive and heading to the road, away from him. Aberforth sighed and turned back. Ariana was standing on the doorstep, waiting for him. He walked back toward the house to join her, smiling at her as he went.
Albus and Gellert were heading to a familiar location – a place where they often went to find inspiration for their plans. And as they walked, the sun emerged from the rain clouds and shone refreshingly into their faces, making Gellert's golden hair glow.
Albus wondered where things would go from here – and guessed the answer. Aberforth would be going back to school (he would drag him there if need be, and hopefully would be able to keep Gellert from killing the younger boy until such a time), and they would be left alone with Ariana… and their futures.
This would be their final visit to the Peverell grave. It was time to move on.
