The soft pillow feels nice against his cheek, and he's clutching the woollen duvet close to his chest, but something is wrong. Suddenly he is back in that room again. Hans is there, breathing into his ear: ''This is your warning Gellert.''
Gellert woke up with a gasp, looking wildly around the room. Wait, he is no longer there; he is at his Tante's house, lying on his new bed, in his new room. He looks out of the window; it is still light out, the sky a clear blue with no clouds. He rubs the sleep out of his eyes, slowly sitting up against the headboard, he pulls the duvet up with him, using it as a blanket. What time is it? How long has he been asleep? After looking around the room Gellert concluded that there is no clock available, but judging from the light coming through the window he guesses it is not seven yet. Will his aunt come to his room to pick him up, or is he expected to make his own way downstairs when it's time?
He decides to wait until his aunt comes and gets him, and not really knowing how to fill his time, starts unpacking his things. He pulls his clothes out first, he doesn't bother folding them, but simply shoves them into the wardrobe, only making distinction between shirts and trousers. His under things he put in the drawer at the bottom. He couldn't pack a lot of things, but with frequent washing this should suffice. After his clothes he pulls out the books he brought with him, handling them a lot more carefully than his clothing. He decides that they will fit nicely on the desk, in exception to his most treasured book: a worn-out copy of 'The Tales of Beedle The Bard''. That one he puts on his nightstand, next to his bed.
At least here, in Godric's Hollow, he can conduct his research in peace. The Deathly Hallows. They are real; he is convinced that they are real, they have to be. The evidence of their existence cannot be ignored. They may have called him a fool, but he will find them. He does not regret his little handiwork left on the wall at Durmstrang: a carved-out triangle, within it a circle and a line running down the middle. He made sure that the sign will last for years to come.; the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. Gellert, during his reverie, subconsciously started to trace the symbol onto the duvet with his fingers.
A soft knock on his door stopped his musings. ''Gellert? - Gellert, are you awake?'' Bathilda says softly through the door, her voice muffled by the wood. Gellert quickly sits up on the bed. ''Yes, Tante, I am awake.'' Bathilda opens the door slowly, sticking her head through the opening first. With a cheery smile she asks: ''How did you sleep, dear? You were out like a light!'' She shuffles further inside the room and looks around. ''I see you have already put your things away - good - that's good.'' She says. Gellert, feeling much more like his usual self, smiles and nods, ''Yes I thought I might as well start with that, giving everything a place here, seeing as I will be staying here for some time.'' Bathilda smiles back at him. ''About your stay here -'' she begins ''- I understand you will need a few things that a young man as yourself needs, therefore I thought you might like to go shopping today, pick out things you'll need.''
Gellert blinks at her. Shopping? Bathilda takes a seat on the edge of the bed and looks at him expectantly. He voices his confusion out loud after Bathilda stays quiet. ''Well, yes, why not today. I thought it would be nice to show you some of England!'' she answers cheerily. ''Is it not a bit late for that?'' Gellert answeres carefully. Bathilda looks at him confused for a second, and then burst into laughter. ''Oh Gellert! It is ten in the morning, my dear; you've slept through the night, missed dinner and all. I tried to wake you, but you were looking so tired, so decided to let you sleep, until you would wake up on your own accord.'' Gellert gapes at her. ''It's the next day?'' he asks incredulously. ''Yes, dear it is.'' She confirms for him chuckling.
''I guess you will be hungry, so I made you some breakfast'' Bathilda says while waving her hand, making a tray float over to the bed. ''This is a traditional English breakfast'' Bathilda explained, pointing at the different things on the plate. ''This - '' She says ''- is toast, and those are beans. The meat is a simple sausage, and that - well that is just a regular egg.'' Gellert nods as she explains the various components. It smells really goods though. ''Thank you, Tante.'' He says in earnest. The food looks delicious, and she is right: he does feel particularly peckish. Bathilda nods at him and gets up from the bed. ''Well dig in, after you are done I though we could get you your things in the city.'' Gellert smiles and nods. ''Yes, that sounds nice, thank you.'' He then lifts the fork to his mouth and takes an experimental mouthful of beans, toast, and sausage. Yes, he decides, yes this is really good. He tells Bathilda as much, and she accepts the compliment with a smile before leaving him to finish the rest of it.
Gellert takes another mouthful and closes his eyes in pleasure. Now this is some good fucking food. His mother is a terrible cook, and meals were always prepared by the house elves. Molly, who acted as the head of the house elves, relayed all messages to the other house elves etc. always made him the best banana ice cream. He swore to himself that Molly's culinary skills could never be compared, but this - this seemingly random mash of ingredients - is up to par, he decides.
After finishing all the food, he pulled on some fresh robes; normally he wouldn't, since he only slept in them, but as he doesn't want his great-aunt to think he is unclean, he changes into new ones anyway. Bathilda is sitting at the kitchen table when he gets down-stairs. ''Cup of tea, dear?'' she asks.
They sip their tea, while Bathilda asks Gellert about his interests. He tells her about his love for practicing spells, not touching on the fact that is it mostly dark magic spells that attract his attention, and his love for magical lore among other things. She tells him in turn that she is a historian, and that she writes novels, one of which is being used at Hogwarts. She used to teach at Hogwarts, but stopped last year to have more time to focus on her writing.
''Gellert, why have you been expelled from Durmstrang?'' Bathilda asks gently after a pause in the conversation. Gellert knows she was bound to ask him one time or another. He is curious as to how much his mother has told her already. If Bathilda were to know, she would probably be appalled. ''Your mother did not really say as to why you have been expelled you see.'' Bathilda says. Okay, so she does not know anything. Gellert wonders if he could get away by lying to her, but then again, she will probably find out... he can bend the truth; or he will just omit some of the more gory things.
Bathilda is still looking at him expectantly. Gellert takes another slow sip of his tea to collect his thoughts. ''Well-'' He starts. ''- I am interested in magic, and practicing new spells, was something I did a lot. And - I - not all of them always went the way I wanted to... So they expelled me after one of my experiments backfired on me.'' That's a lie. He thinks to himself, while staring into his cup. He was expelled because it actually did work this time.
''I see, so you were expelled because of a failed experiment?'' Bathilda summarized. She knows that the boy is withholding a few facts here and there, simply because students don't get expelled because of an experiment that 'backfired' on them. She is not a fool, she knows that Durmstrang is well known for its tolerance of the Dark Arts. For Merlin's sake, the children have classes on it from there first year on. She decides to drop the topic as to why Gellert got expelled and, instead, wants to ask him about Durmstrang itself.
As a witch born on the British Isles, Bathilda received her letter at the age of eleven, and went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Communication between the other schools is scarce, a part from the Triwizards tournament, she has never seen any other students from other schools, except for maybe that girl she met while on holiday in France; she was from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. She looks back Gellert; maybe she ought to wait a bit with asking about Durmstrang. She does not want the boy breaking down in tears again. He certainty seems to be feeling a lot better, and she hasn't seen any tears since last afternoon.
After they both finished their tea, Bathilda claps her hands together in a cheery gesture, ''Well, dear, feeling ready to go to London?'' she asks with a smile. She has seen the clothing Gellert has brought along with him, or rather lack there off; a nice good shopping spree will remedy that nicely. She wants him to feel at home, and with Godric's hollow being populated by many muggles, she will need to get him some muggle clothing to fit in.
Gellert nods his head, with a small smile, ''Yes, Tante, but how will we get there?'' He doesn't see any fireplace to use the Floo network, and going by broomstick seems out of the question because of all the bloody muggles. Bathilda pulls him along to a part of the house he has not seen. aah, there it is: an old dusty fireplace, nicely tucked away in a corner of the room.
''Well, go on dear, grab some powder'' She says excitedly. ''Have you ever done this, Gellert?'' Without waiting for his response she launches into a explanation: ''So just take the powder - yes like that, good - and say 'Diagon Alley'.''
''Diagon what?'' ''Don't woryy-'' Bathilda continues, ''- just repeat after me 'Di-a-gohnn Alleyyy'.'' She says, over enunciating the words. Gellert has used the Floo network before, in fact many more times than just once. He focuses on the strange word, and says it aloud under his breath as practice. He then stands in the fireplace ''- Diagon Alley!'' and disappears.
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