When he returned to her house, Gellert willingly engaged his great-aunt in conversation for the first time since his arrival.

"He seems quite nice, that Albus Dumbledore. Can't help but feeling sorry for him, without any parents."

"Ah yes, the poor boy" she sighed "That's not even the half of it, you know – he told you he's looking after his brother and sister? – As if it's not hard enough for a boy his age to handle, you have the matter of his sister's condition – did he mention that to you? – I shouldn't say anything really, but between you and me…she's not quite right, you know, in the head. That's why she's never gone to Hogwarts like her brothers – considered unfit to go to school."

"Why? What's wrong with her?"

"I don't rightly know – maybe it's just the strain of a broken family – I shouldn't tell you this either, but" she leaned forward conspiratorially "their father was sentenced to life in Azkaban when she was still young. Just went crazy and attacked a group of muggle boys – that's what they say, anyway. With a father like that, easy to see how the poor girl might be a bit touched."

Gellert grew to resent his aunt a little more with every word. How bad-mannered she was, to be gossiping away like this at the slightest provocation.

Well, whatever. It satisfied his curiosity, which was the only real point of the conversation anyway. Unfortunately, now she had gotten started…

.

.

Even after his aunt provided him every single fucking detail she knew or had ever heard about the Dumbledore family, Gellert still found his thoughts wandering back to Albus, as though he was a question to answer, a puzzle to solve.

Gellert did his best to shake off the sensation. He felt bad for the boy's situation, but that was no reason to involve himself. He had enough to contend with without getting tangled up in other people's problems. If he meant to be stronger, he had to associate with people of strength, and there was certainly nothing strong about Albus's position. No, no. He would only drag Gellert down.

But still the thought of him would not leave his mind.

Maybe he felt indebted? That must be it. Albus had helped him when he'd been in a particularly vulnerable condition, for no other reason than that he seemed to be a genuinely nice person.

Still, the only reason Gellert paid back favors was if he anticipated another favor in future. Callous, perhaps, but what else was he supposed to do? He had to look out for himself; no one else was going to.

Although…now that he considered it, he might benefit from some help with the plans for the summer. It was to be his first step tracking down the Hallows – the first step to changing the world. He had a lot to do; it would behoove him to have some assistance, assuming Albus was half as smart as his great-aunt said…

.

.

He sure was spending a lot of time in graveyards lately, Gellert reflected as he poked around the one in Godrick's Hollow. At least it wasn't his own grave he was looking for, this time…

Now that he considered it, it was pretty strange that people insisted on giving each corpse its own bed. Did they think it mattered to a corpse where it ended up? What would be the end of that? Where would they put bodies when they ran out of room? When there were more dead in the ground than living walking above it…

He wondered, then, what the world might look like if no one had to die. Wasn't that what his whole quest was about? Power over death? He'd been thinking of something much more specific, but…If the Hallows had the power they were reputed to, what would stop him conquering death in the most literal sense?

Of course, some people had to die; there just wasn't enough room for everyone ever born. But what if all the best people could stay alive? The ones who had devoted their lives to the good of the world and everyone in it?

How much could he change the world, if he attained the power he sought? The question made him both exhilarated and afraid. He chased the thought from his mind, for now. First things first: locate the grave of Ignotus Peverell.

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.

The incident in the kitchen set the tone for the rest of the day. Hell, that had pretty much been the tone of Albus's life for the whole summer.

He had no work that day, and only menial tasks about the household. He alternated between reading a book and, when his thoughts wandered, gazing out the window in the hopes of an owl from Elphias. Maybe he could at least take vicarious part in the travels he was no longer able to experience first hand.

But the silence from his brother, sister and Elphias, ground on and on all day, until he felt half-mad with it.

The evening found him sitting in front of his mother's grave. He spent much of his time there lately, when not busy with work or his siblings. He didn't know quite why he was there. To mourn, to think, to feel close to her? In the end, it seemed like the only place he could go.

Light footsteps on the grass were heard behind him – too light for Aberforth. He turned, almost expecting to see his sister, but instead,

"Grindlewald?" The blonde stood a few yards behind him, seeming impossibly alive and vivid in the context of the gloomy graveyard and his equally dismal state of mind.

"Care for the company of the living?"

"It would be quite welcome." After the day of crushing silence, he felt starved for companionship.

Gellert closed the few feet between them, sitting cross-legged on the grass beside Albus.

"Do you feel like telling me?"

"Telling you what?" Albus asked, slightly baffled.

"Why you are out here, with only graves and ghosts? Hardly the place of a happy man."

"You were here." He pointed out. "Are you unhappy?"

Gellert seemed to genuinely consider the question. Truthfully, no one had ever asked him such a thing.

"I don't know…" He said at length. "Discontent, I suppose. But you haven't answered me."

"Just wondering how it's possible to love someone and yet hate every moment you spend together."

"Brother and sister?"

"Yes. Sometime between childhood and now, they seem to have become worse than strangers."

"I'm not the best one to give advice about love or family, but…it seems like they both must have a lot of sadness about the death of their mother. It's not your fault if they take it out on you."

"It's true. I should be more patient I suppose. They're only children who've lost their parents."

"As are you."

Somehow no one sees that but you. He wanted to say. I have to be the one to fix everything, there is no room for me to be a child.

"I'll have to be more than that, if I mean to help them."

"You're brave."

"…No I'm not."

"You are if I say you are. Don't talk back to me."

Albus smiled in spite of himself. "You're very kind."

"No I'm not."

"You seem so."

"I'm just honest. If you were a piece of sheisse not fit to lick my boots, I would be the first person to tell you so."

"You must make a lot of friends."

He shrugged. "Better to be an honest enemy than a lying friend, no?"

"I'd rather have false friends than honest enemies."

Gellert laughed; a high, bright sound. "Touché. But knowing this, how can I hope to befriend you, never knowing whether you're sincere?"

It was Albus's turn to be brought up short. "You would have to take my word for it, I suppose."

"What are words worth? No more than air."

Honest indeed, and it was hard for Albus not to be stung by it. At the same time, he felt like rising to the challenge.

"If words aren't enough, you would have to stick around long enough to observe my actions. See if I behaved as the friend I said I was."

"Do you say you're my friend?"

"I'd like to be."

"I'd like that too." He held out his hand, and Albus shook it. Strange, how he could have been so sad a moment ago and now feel so happy.

"Do you have any siblings?" Albus asked, trying to keep the conversation going.

"I used to."

"Used to? You mean…are they…?"

"Dead. Mother is too, in fact. We're very familiar with death, where I come from."

"Your situation makes mine seem downright cheerful."

"I'd take dead siblings over one's I was on my own to look after." He cocked his head. "Perhaps you think me a terrible person for that?"

"No. Hell, you've more or less summed up my own thoughts on the situation. Not that I'd wish them dead…just wish them away, if that makes sense? Perhaps I'm the terrible person."

"Ja, we're both awful." Gellert said, melodramatically. "But at least, we have each other for company." He laughed, allowing himself to fall backwards on the grass.

Again, Albus was uncomfortably aware of how close they were. It would be…easy to reach out and touch him, lean over and press his lips to…

"I should go." He said, standing. His situation was bad enough, without unrequited infatuation. Best to nip this thing in the bud.

"What?" Gellert sat up. "You know I was kidding about calling you awful – you just don't want to be their parent. And rightly so, as you never even had the fun of conceiving them."

"No, you didn't offend me. It's just…getting late. My brother will be mad if I disappear for too long." This was selling Aberforth a bit short; he generally didn't care what Albus did with his time as long as he took care of his share of chores and meal preparations.

"Alright then. Oh, one more thing, before you go?"

"Yes?"

"You ever think about conquering death?"

That was one he'd never heard before.

"…As much as any other mortal, I imagine. Particularly one who's just lost someone close."

"Wonderful. I have a feeling we're going to get along quite well." He smiled. "Sleep well, Albus."

.

.

He slept terribly though, plagued by nightmares. He stared at his mother's body in her casket, pale and waxen…then it was him in the casket, buried underground to suffocate…Ariana had fallen into deep, cold water, and it froze over her before he could reach her. He could only stare down at her body, entombed in crystal…his father was there too, trapped in the ice cold prison with Ariana. Then Albus was again trapped; frantic, suffocating…

He woke with such a jolt it seemed as though a giant hand had hurled him forcefully into his bed at the exact moment of his waking.

All he could do was lay there, stunned, motionless in body while a maelstrom raged in his heart and mind. Though he had awoken from the dream, all the feelings were still there, just as real as they had been in the dream. The horror, despair, loneliness…it all rose up out of the dark to suffocate him.

And there was no one for him to go to. Elphias was gone. Mother was dead. He had graduated school, where there was always a kindly professor who would lend an ear if need be. The thought of trying to confide in Aberforth was just plain laughable, and Ariana…

The poor wounded soul had enough troubles, without him adding to them.

In his mind, the thought of Grindelwald appeared, suddenly and brightly as if a flame had been struck in the darkness. With that, came a longing so sharp it brought tears to his eyes.

You're brave. Grindelwald had said.

No I'm not. No I'm not noI'mnotnoI'mnot…

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(A/N Nightmares and angst all around! :D And I'm on the fence about whether I should portray Elphias simply as Albus's friend or something more. I'm leaning towards the platonic right now; seems like anything else would be adding needless drama. Of course, in a certain sense all stories are needless drama, unless it's the story that goes "Everyone was reasonable, did all they should and nothing they should not, and lived a decently happy life. The end." I don't know. Thanks to Flying Tunamonger for all the reviews; you make me so happy^^ As always thanks for reading!)