The following morning, Albus was leaving Bathilda Bagshot's house yet again. He had done what he had neglected to do during dinner: discuss the possibility of obtaining a house-elf. There was no use pretending this was the only reason behind his visit: after the many unspoken emotions of the last weeks, which had ranged from frustration to hopelessness, he was loath to lie to himself. The simple truth was that he craved company outside of his home. But the witch had appeared to be alone, and Albus's hopes had been for naught. She had, however, promised to write to the Potters about the house-elf, for they were the only family in the village wealthy enough to have a servant: so wealthy, in fact, that they could afford turning their cottage into a summer residence. Naturally, they were also in contact with the other families likely to be in possession of an elfling they could spare. It was therefore up to them to grant assistance if they could. If there was one good thing about their bigoted world, Albus reflected soberly, it was the absence of house-elf breeders whereas wealth and power came hand in hand.
As he turned the corner of the street, intent on taking a short walk in the village, a giggle claimed his attention, and he paused under the guise of adjusting his tie. In the distance, there was a blonde girl in a modest pink dress and a straw bonnet, whom he recognised as Ada-Catherine Abbott, one of their young neighbours, just two years below Aberforth at Hogwarts. She was talking to Gellert, and her face was positively radiant with coquetry. Albus froze; as much as he had been hoping for an encounter with the young man, he did not wish to give Gellert the impression he was following him. But he had only just made up his mind to return to his house unobserved when the blond wizard glanced in Albus's direction. The only polite gesture that now remained to do was to touch his hat in greeting, and it was promptly reciprocated. Albus stepped forward towards the couple and gave Ada a little bow.
"Miss Abbott, Mr Grindelwald, good morning."
"Mr Dumbledore," Gellert smiled, "good morning."
"Oh, are you already acquainted?" Ada exclaimed.
"Mr Dumbledore was kind enough to accept Aunt Bathilda's invitation for a small family dinner; that is how we got to know each other," Gellert explained. "And then, this morning, Miss Abbott was kind enough to show me the way to the Apparition point."
"But you are not leaving!" Ada simpered playfully, batting her eyelashes.
"Of course not; I've only arrived, and it would be rude of me to leave this soon. I do hope it is not my direct way of speaking that has left you with such a terrible impression of me, Miss Abbott."
At this, she giggled. "A terrible impression? Not at all! I could never think anything terrible of you. The other boys around here, they are not like you..." She caught herself and turned pink, her eyes darting towards Albus. "I mean, Aberforth still throws goat manure in people's gardens when he's annoyed at them."
Gellert frowned at Albus, interested. "Aberforth?"
"Aberforth is my brother," Albus elaborated, a little amused and embarrassed at the way Ada had dismissed the entire male population of Godric's Hollow. "He couldn't join us the other day. I hope you will soon be able to make his acquaintance." He paused before asking, "Do you have siblings, Mr Grindelwald?"
"No," Gellert answered in a neutral tone, "unfortunately, I do not. I take it Aberforth is your younger brother, Mr Dumbledore? You have to forgive me—being new around here, I'm afraid my curiosity might yet become bothersome."
Ada came to Gellert's defense before Albus could muster an answer.
"But it's perfectly natural to ask! You don't know anyone yet."
Gellert rewarded her vehement advocacy with a smile, appreciating her friendliness but not letting her steer the conversation away from Albus either. Ada-Catherine was one of the most amiable girls Albus had ever met, yet she presently gave him a challenging look, as if daring him to disagree and attack the newcomer. With a gallant smile in her direction, he addressed the German wizard.
"That's correct. And fear not, everyone here will be more than happy to answer any questions you have. I believe there is a saying: if you have knowledge, let others light their candles in it." The Muggle quote left him with a feeling of formality, though, so he hastened to ask, "Is Mr Heiderfeld around today?"
"Oh, yes, Dieter is going to spend the summer at Auntie's as well," Gellert nodded, smoothing over Albus's statement, which had caused Ada to look up in confusion. To add even more levity and provide an explanation for the girl's benefit, he expanded on the topic, "Mr Dieter Heiderfeld is a friend of mine from Durmstrang. You've yet to meet him, Miss Abbott; he has the habit of sleeping in."
Ada's eyes widened; the prospect of having not one but two newcomers in their quiet little village left her beyond excited.
"Oh, you have to tell me all about Durmstrang, Mr Grindelwald," she gushed. "Is it true they admit half-breeds and Dark wizards?" It took her a few seconds to become aware of her blunder, at which point she blushed. "I mean to say… we don't really receive any visitors at Hogwarts."
She did not need to worry, though; Gellert must have understood the girl was merely echoing a popular belief she had never thought to question.
"It will be my pleasure to tell you more about my school. Fear not, Miss Abbott, the rumours are greatly exaggerated: we do not aim to rival Herpo the Foul upon our graduation," he assured her sincerely. "But let us leave this conversation for another day. Right now, I'm afraid Mr Dumbledore and I ought to make sure we don't get you in trouble."
"Oh, yes… I should have headed home a while ago; I didn't tell papa where I was going," she admitted, growing worried. "I saw Mr Grindelwald all by himself, trying to find his way back, and… well, Mr Grindelwald is such a smooth talker, the time just vanished."
"Should we escort you?" Gellert offered, looking between her and Albus. "It would be only polite."
It was clear Ada was not going to refuse spending another moment in Gellert's company; on the contrary, she smiled in gratitude, adjusting her basket rather flirtatiously. While they walked towards her house, which lay a mere block away, Albus spoke up.
"I hope you and Mr Heiderfeld will have a chance to see London—there is nothing quite like Diagon Alley in the rest of Britain. Hogsmeade is also most definitely worth visiting." He halted, musing. "In fact, should you be interested in discovering Hogwarts, I can put in a word for you, though I'm sure Madam Bagshot corresponds with Headmaster Dippet a well."
"Oh, yes, yes, Mr Grindelwald, you absolutely must—it is the best magical school in the world!" Ada beamed.
Gellert took her enthusiasm in a good spirit, even though the girl had just unconsciously slighted Durmstrang yet again.
"I would absolutely love to visit all of these places. We discussed Hogwarts yesterday, and from everything you and Aunt Bathilda have told me, it is incredibly different from Durmstrang. If there is a chance I could go there, I wouldn't miss it for the world."
For the first time, a large smile lit Albus's face, obliterating all traces of grief. He looked forward to contacting Professor Dippet again, and he could imagine how enjoyable a tour of Hogwarts would be to a mind as curious and active as Gellert's.
"I will send an owl tonight," he assured the German wizard. "I'm certain Headmaster will be delighted to show you and Mr Heiderfeld the castle and the grounds. Miss Abbott will confirm, I'm sure, that you won't forget those sights for a long time. Perhaps you will even be allowed to get Sorted. "Have you heard of the Sorting Hat, one of the heirlooms of Godric Gryffindor? Probably the wisest hat in history, one that sees to the bottom of every person's soul and finds their dominant traits?"
"Ah, so it is according to a personality assessment that the Hat makes its decisions?" Gellert asked curiously. "I have heard of the Sorting Hat, but I never knew it once belonged to one of the Founders. I wonder how they enchanted it… Sometimes it feels as though the wizards before us possessed knowledge that we have gradually lost. Don't you ever feel that way, Mr Dumbledore?"
They had now approached the Abbott house, and it was time to say goodbye to the girl.
"Albus has a gift for making any conversation dead serious, and now he's affected you with the bug!" she complained, not without flashing one last playful glance towards Gellert. "You should be careful, Mr Grindelwald."
Gellert smiled in return. "Well, Miss Abbott, it is then our task to help him be less serious at times. In all earnestness, I would be absolutely delighted to visit Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—and the Hogsmeade village, for that matter. In Durmstrang, the nearest village is miles away, at the very coastline. While the numerous ships docked around it offer quite a picturesque view, it is very tricky to Apparate there, especially if you've had too much Cauldron Spirit."
"Cauldron Spirit?" Ada repeated with a giggle.
"A local drink," Gellert clarified. "Not entirely innocent."
The girl giggled even louder, as though he had said something funny. "I'll see you around, Mr Grindelwald. Thank you for walking me home. And Albus… um, my condolences once again. Yesterday must have been so hard for you."
The two boys bowed to her before bidding her a good day. Not even her less than delicate chatter about his family could dampen Albus's spirits, which had been soaring higher and higher throughout their conversation. It had been ages since he had encountered such enthusiasm in a fellow wizard: the desire to learn and to share stories of magic or simple old knowledge. Indeed, it was on a much lighter tone that he resumed their conversation when they turned around to walk towards their own houses.
"It's true about the Hat. You see, the Founders chose to sort students to their respective Houses by testing their personalities. But they wished the system to endure after they were gone, and for this purpose, they gave Gryffindor's old hat the power of Legilimency. Since then, it has been able to see through the brain of any person who puts it on, and that's how it makes its choice. And that leads me to agree with what you said about the old magical ways and the lost wisdom. Even Legilimency is an art that only few wizards are truly good at nowadays—for a good reason too, of course. But the Founders... not only were they accomplished at it, they could actually grant such a gift to an object."
Albus drew a breath and chuckled, the sound of which nearly startled him. "I'm sorry. Miss Abbott has a point: I mustn't bore you. And I'm positively rambling."
"To be honest, it's one of the most enjoyable rambles I've heard in a while," Gellert admitted. "I've been meaning to apologise: Auntie ended our fun rather abruptly yesterday. Perhaps I shouldn't have teased her that much after all. She must have expected a more solid answer than singing with witches."
"If I may say so, it was well worth it." Albus was enjoying Gellert's humour more and more with every new statement. "I had an excellent time, and the song was beautiful. Madam Bagshot always has the best intentions at heart, I'm sure."
"Well, in all fairness, my dear Aunt Bathilda can take herself a tad too seriously at times," Gellert smiled. "But I'm glad you enjoyed the dinner. Also, just in case you hoped to hear the truth yesterday, it's Conjuring—my favourite subject, that is."
"Conjuring." Albus sighed wistfully. He thought about it and found he was not truly surprised; the subject somehow suited Gellert. "Another branch of magic that's not covered at Hogwarts but which I would have loved to study. Which just proves what you said yesterday about magical cooperation. So much knowledge is wasted."
"Not wasted," Gellert objected with a minute shake of his head, "just not shared. Which, of course, is but a mere symptom of the real problem. People fear what they do not know or understand." A second later, his expression cleared, and he gave Albus a friendly smile. "My apologies, Mr Dumbledore, I didn't mean to start your morning with deep philosophy. Miss Abbott might indeed be right about the two of us; we are far too serious."
"Philosophy is no poor way of starting one's day," Albus replied, "but perhaps we should listen to her. After all, the summer holidays have only started. If it's not too much curiosity on my part, why have you chosen England for your travel? You see, I also considered a short journey after my graduation; only, the events unfolded differently."
Gellert met Albus's gaze at these words.
"I am very sorry for your loss, Mr Dumbledore." And he sounded every bit as though he meant it, unlike most villagers, who had known him for years. "I know that you are in a very difficult situation; but for what it is worth, it will get easier. Auntie tells me you are a wizard of many talents—and before you object, I know Auntie well enough to be certain she is not one to bestow praise lightly—as such, there will always be people willing to help you. Worthy people get help. I should know, I've seen it happen… Speaking of, was Auntie able to heed your request? I can only assume there was something specific you wanted to talk to her about. Why else would you have chosen such an early hour? Am I correct?"
"You are," Albus confessed, impressed. It had not escaped his notice that Gellert had not answered his question on travelling. Not that he was going to press it. "Madam Bagshot has kindly promised to contact the Potters—our neighbours, they come here in summer—as they might be able to help. And... thank you for the compliment. I can tell you have even more talents, Mr Grindelwald. Also, nothing escapes you."
The last part was meant to express admiration, not reproach.
The blond wizard brushed it off like a trifle. "You pick up a thing or two when you study at the Institute. There is nothing more to it, Mr Dumbledore, I promise. And just for the record, should you ever feel you could use my help, don't hesitate for a moment, not even if it means we would have to tweak Auntie's wand a little."
There was something mischievous about the warm smile Gellert cast towards Albus, who could not resist smiling back. It was simply contagious.
"Thank you," he said earnestly. "I will be glad to help you as well, should you ever be in need. Let me start by negotiating a trip to Hogwarts; it's the least I can do."
"Speaking of outings," Gellert remarked, "I am aware it is not entirely appropriate, given the circumstances, but Dieter and I would like to visit Diagon Alley, like you suggested. In fact, we have been planning on taking a little trip there one of these evenings, and I meant to bring it up at dinner yesterday, but alas, better late than never. I wonder if you could join us, Mr Dumbledore."
Uncomfortably aware of the mourning band around his arm, Albus nevertheless hesitated, his heart pounding in his chest. Next to the prospect of being cloistered inside the house for Merlin knew how long, spending an evening in London with this German wizard and his kind-hearted companion sounded like a dream come true.
"I would be honoured," he heard himself declare before his brain was even done processing it.
"It is an open invitation, Mr Dumbledore; if you feel you are not able to come after all, neither Dieter nor I will take it personally," Gellert affirmed, observing him carefully before smiling again. "Though Auntie would secretly be delighted if someone finally taught me some proper English manners and helped me rein in my terrible continental savagery."
This last joke did it, and Albus laughed, now fully aware that he was not going to miss this outing for anything. His smile did not fade away even when they reached their street and met the sight of Aberforth fussing over a goat.
"I would not dream of spoiling your pleasant disposition with the dull English poise," he assured Gellert, "but it will be my pleasure to join you." He paused. "This is my brother, Aberforth. May I introduce you?"
He turned towards the younger boy. "Aberforth, this is Gellert Grindelwald, Madam Bagshot's great-nephew. He attends Durmstrang and will hopefully be spending a while in Godric's Hollow."
Gellert smiled, waiting for Aberforth to acknowledge him so that they could shake hands. All too soon, it became clear this was not going to happen. Despite his somewhat stronger jaw, shorter hair and less intelligence in the eyes, Aberforth looked similar to Albus. And yet, they could not be more different. What he lacked in cordiality, he decidedly made up for in confidence. He was also remarkably undisturbed by the fact that the boys had walked in on him inspecting a goat's backside. After a momentary glare at Gellert, Aberforth threw his brother a dark look and went into the house without a word, his posture furious.
"Aberforth!" Albus called after him, but there was no response of any kind.
Instead, the boy slammed the front door, and they could hear him stomping inside. It took Albus some effort to stop himself from closing his eyes in sheer shame.
"I'm very sorry," he uttered to Gellert.
"No," the other wizard said confidently, "I am the intruder here, and it is a difficult time for both of you. I should have realised it. You don't owe me an apology, Mr Dumbledore."
The words brought a shadow of a smile to Albus's face, who found himself wishing Aberforth deserved such magnanimous attitude. With a sigh, he shook Gellert's hand in goodbye, already impatient to see him again.
"Thank you. Thanks very much."
Keeping his mood from deflating upon crossing the threshold of his house was no small task. He had been repressing hurt at his brother's uncompromising obstinacy for so long that his self-control was at its limit. He was one thing; Gellert, on the other hand, had done nothing to deserve such aggression.
"This was not acceptable, Aberforth." His voice was calmer than he had expected.
Aberforth, he could see, was becoming equally angry, or perhaps Albus's wrath no longer intimidated him. Without the slightest acknowledgment, he headed for the kitchen, manifestly intent on performing a set of household spells. This left Albus with no other option but to speak on.
"Why did you have to insult a guest? What has he done to you? He is Madam Bagshot's relative, and I've asked her to do us all a favour. Do you want our few friends to turn away from us as well?"
"What favour?" Aberforth grunted, deliberately dismissing everything else his brother had just said.
"She promised to reach out to her contacts so that we can have a house-elf."
This did it. When Aberforth finally responded, shattering several plates with a slashing movement of his wand in the process, his voice sounded so bitter that Albus wanted to take a step back.
"A house-elf? Why am I not surprised? Let me guess: looking after Ariana is proving too much for you after all? It's been two days since mother's funeral, and you can't take it anymore. Missing your academic journals already?"
Albus blinked, floored by this injustice. "You're being very unfair. I've done it to help all of us, especially you. Ever since we came back from Hogwarts, you haven't sat down. I felt it would help you."
"Help me? Help me become selfish like you?" Aberforth could no longer contain his rage. "HOW MANY TIMES DID MOTHER HAVE TO ASK YOU TO HELP? BUT NO, GREAT ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, THE GREATEST WIZARD OF OUR GENERATION, CAN'T BE BOTHERED, CAN HE NOW?"
With a flick of his wand, Albus cast the Soundproof Charm around the kitchen. Ariana could not hear them shouting, not now that they had only lost their mother, not ever.
"Do you have anything else to say to me?" he retorted coolly.
"I hate you." Aberforth's voice was unyielding. "It has only been two days—two days—but you just don't care, do you? I was willing to believe you yesterday, you know—that you absolutely had to go to that ugly hag's dinner. Or what, are you going to tell me you absolutely have to lick her flashy relative's boots too?"
"You should be ashamed," Albus said quietly. "Here you are, judging people you have never exchanged two words with, not even trying to understand them. But I am the one who doesn't care, like always."
"We don't need a house elf," his brother declared. "And the sooner he gets out of here, the better. Why did he come anyway? Even that hag doesn't want him around."
"What is your problem with Gellert? You set your eyes on him seconds ago."
"He's a Dark wizard. Funny how you don't see it… being blinded by your own brilliance, I suppose."
"Attending Durmstrang doesn't make him a Dark wizard, let alone the kind that you have in mind." Albus's features had set into a no less hard expression. "It's a prejudice, Aberforth, and you should know better than to take prejudice for truth. Not when you throw manure into people's gardens, as Ada complained this morning."
Aberforth snorted. "That's what they get for annoying me."
"Then you can hardly be surprised when no one is particularly eager to please you." Moving past him at last, Albus started sorting out vegetables for lunch, grateful he could use magic for the space of a moment. "You should know this, however. An owl came from Gringotts, summarising the contents of our family vault and confirming the transfer of guardianship from mother to me. We are nearly out of money, Aberforth."
"We have goats," his brother objected soberly, "and chickens. And we can grow everything we need in the garden; we don't even need money. You just want to get out; that's all you care about because you think you're too good for us. So, sure, associate yourself with Dark wizard scum instead. Since when do you even care about us?"
Aberforth was now baiting him, Albus could tell, and he was not going to give in to such provocation.
"Yes, we do need money," he insisted, focusing on the argument itself while casting a spell to produce fire for heating the kettle. "We need clothes, we need potion ingredients, and we need to be able to afford Healers if it ever comes to that. And maybe—just maybe—some money could be set aside for Ari. There will come a time when she will want more out of life."
"And a house-elf is going to help us how, exactly?" Aberforth asked, his eyes narrowed, as though he was unsure whether to believe Albus.
"The house-elf will do the chores when I'm at work. And to get work, I have to build connections. Not to mention you ought to finish your education. After that, you are free to choose what you wish to do."
Aberforth kept watching him, still suspicious.
"Fine," he uttered at last. "Have your elf if you can get one, but leave me out of it."
Albus's sigh of relief was short-lived, though.
"But stay away from that scum of a Dark wizard—I don't want him near us."
And with this, Albus was left alone in the kitchen to ponder over that morning's exchanges, wondering if his desire for the German's wizard's company truly rendered him selfish. Yet even supposing it did, he could not stay in and mourn forever.
AN: The German wizard is sowly charming the entire village, but could Albus's antisocial little brother possibly be right about him? While the answer to that question is known, Gellert might still surprise you, so keep reading.
Most importantly, I hope you are enjoying the early 20th century atmosphere in this story. The gens used to be more gallant, gals more coquettish, and the language more romantic back then. On this note, don't hesitate to leave feedback, dear readers. Always appreciated.