- July 1899 -

Albus woke early again the next morning. Cool morning air drifted through his window and he lay in bed and let it wash over his skin. It was the only barrable time of the day. The sun slowly crept back to reclaim the sky and soon the morning rays reached the window that looked over the back garden and then his eyes. Staying in bed was futile. He went to his desk and wrote back to Elphias. It was short and of little consequence but it took a long time to write. It was hard to see what had become of his life written out in ink. Every sentence committed the circumstance to reality. Ariana had calmed down by the time he returned from the funeral but she was still fragile. Everything upset her. He couldn't charm a scrub brush properly. The most exciting aspect of his new life was Gellert, the delinquent that had moved next door. In school he had never given troublemakers the time of day. School seemed so far away now, a lifetime ago, a dream. He signed off and asked Elphias to write back soon. He pulled some twine from his desk drawer and tied it around the scrolled-up letter and fastened it to the owl's talon. The owl continued to pluck his feathers without any acknowledgment.

"I really am that inconsequential, aren't I?" As he resorted to briber and fetched the bird a treat, he spotted Gellert from the window next to his desk that faced Mrs. Bagshot's house. He was sat in his own bedroom window. His leg was pulled up on the windowsill and he rested a book against it. He wore trousers but only an undershirt and his suspenders hung loose from his hips. Albus watched. A breeze blew through the corridor between the two houses and ruffled Gellert's blond hair which glowed in the morning sunlight. How much of a delinquent could he be if he read in the early morning hours?

The bird nipped the treat from his fingers and took flight out the window. Gellert looked up at the bird as it flew past and then over to Albus. He smiled and tilted his hand, a small wave, then brushed his fingers through the hair that had fallen over his eyes. Albus had been caught looking. Again. He nodded back and then ducked out of sight. Arthur hooted at him from his open cage. "You want a treat too, I suppose." Albus fetched him one and then went downstairs to start breakfast.

He started with a pot of tea and then threw the rest of eggs in a pan and scrambled them. He fried up the stale bread next and divided everything onto three plates. Aberforth barreled down the stairs at the first sizzle of food on the stove. Ariana was slower to follow. They ate in silence.

There was a knock on the back kitchen door. Albus looked over but it was pushed open before he could get up. "Good morning," Gellert said as he let himself in and took a seat at the table. To Albus' relief and disappointment, he had put on a proper shirt and pulled his suspenders up over his shoulders. "How's everyone's day going?"

"An owl made me question my self worth," Albus said.

"Great start. What's next?"

"I have to go to the grocers. We're out of everything. I'm sure the locals will put the owl to shame."

Aberforth stood and took their plates to the sink. Gellert twisted in his seat after Aberforth. "Sure, I'd love a cup of tea." Aberforth rolled his eyes but brought a mug to the table. "Well, I'm in. What about you, Ariana?" Gellert leaned forwards towards her, his arms crossed on the table.

There was something sweet about the attention Gellert gave his sister but Albus was wary of her reaction. "She doesn't like leaving the house much."

"Why not?" Gellert directed the question to Ariana.

"Strangers and crowds frighten her."

"Well that's silly. They're just muggles. You should come."

Ariana shook her head.

"The more you go out, the more you'll get used to it and the less scary it will be."

"I don't think it's a good idea, Gellert," Albus said.

"Come on, you're holding her back. Don't you want to come? Get out of the house for a bit?" Gellert reached out and touched her arm. Ariana jerked away from him.

"Hey," Aberforth yelled. "Leave her alone. She said she doesn't want to go."

Tears welled in her eyes. The table vibrated. Albus stood. "Ok, we should go. We'll go and Ariana can stay here and everything will be fine."

Gellert held his hands up in surrender and pushed his chair back from the table. "I never meant any harm."

They walked down the road towards the village center. "I truly did mean no harm," Gellert said.

Albus sighed and buried his hands in his pockets. "I know. Ariana's just… different. She's ill." He wished she wasn't. He tried to pretend that it was a wish for her, so that her life could be easier and happier. But it was a selfish wish. It was a wish that his life could be easier and happier. It was a wish that she wouldn't scare Gellert away.

The village was busy. Everyone was catching up on errands after the weekend. Kids ran through the street making the most of their summer holidays as their mother's tried to coral them from shop to shop. Several horses and buggies tied up on the side of the road made it feel even more crowded. Ariana would have hated it.

They went to the baker's first. Albus held the door open for two ladies on his way in. They kept their heads down as they shuffled quickly past. The woman behind the till did not speak to him as she rang up his two loafs of bread. No one queued behind him. They pretended to browse.

"What was that about?" Gellert said as they walked to the butcher.

"We're social pariahs. There was no man of the house. Mum kept to herself. Didn't go to church. And Ab and I don't go to the local school."

At the butcher's he bought sausages and stewing meat and then potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, and eggs at the farmer's market. At the general store he picked up more caned beans. "This should be it," he said as he queued for the till. Gellert didn't say anything. Albus looked around but Gellert was gone. On a shelf in the back of the store he spotted sweets. He ducked out of the queue and filled up a brown paper bag with sherbet lemons. The ones from Honeydukes were better but these would do. He paid and stepped out of the store. Gellert was patting one of the horses, a lollipop stick poked out of his mouth and a bottle of whiskey weighed down his hand.

"Where'd you get those?"

Gellert nodded back towards the general store. "Let's go to the monument."

Albus agreed and they continued down the road. "Did you steal them?"

Gellert shrugged. "The muggles are so dumb I didn't even need magic."

"I think they're more trusting than dumb."

"Same thing."

As they approached the monument it appeared to be a plague cross, a tall black iron cross stood on a stone base. The base was approximately chest height and had two small steps at the bottom. Small, round divots dotted the top surface of the base. Back when plague had ravaged the town, merchants would sell their goods at the plague cross. The plague-ridden villagers would deposit their coins into the divots which were filled with vinegar in the hopes that the acidity would kill any disease they may carry. Without the plague crosses entire villages would have been left to starve. It was a symbol of resilience and unity, of humanity.

Beneath the cross lay another monument that morphed into view once they reached the small steps. It was a burning stake carved out of stone. A long post reached up from the center of a bundle of wood sticks that weaved in an out of each other. A plaque read:

The Statute of Secrecy - 1692 – Never Again.

Before the statute witches and wizards were hunted and burned alive. It was a symbol of hatred and fear, of death.

Albus took the bottle of whisky from Gellert. He twisted off the cap and took a gulp. It burned the back of his throat like hot, acrid, smoke. That's how they died, by smoke inhalation, before the flames could melt their flesh from their bone. A small mercy. Gellert took out his wand and Albus stepped behind him to block him from view of any passers by. When Gellert re-pocketed his wand, the triangular mark was left carved into the post. Gellert took the whisky bottle back, took a swig himself and poured out a shot at the base of the monument.

"What is it?" Albus asked.

"Let's go home."

Albus dropped the groceries in the kitchen and took the sherbet lemons up to Ariana. She sat in bed surrounded by pink yarn and held two kitting needles in her fists. By the looks of it, he was going to have cold feet this winter. In the current heat wave, the prospect of cold toes appealed to him.

"Look what I got," Albus said as he handed her the bag.

She smiled brightly when she opened it and quickly popped two in her mouth. "Thank-you."

"Of course. Sorry if we upset you this morning."

She went back to her knitting and Albus fished a sweet from the bag and watched her. Her eyes were focused but her hands moved with hesitation.

"There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight." Both Albus and Ariana turned to the door. Gellert had followed him upstairs. He had picked The Tales of Beedle the Bard off the shelf and had begun to read. He stepped into the room and sat down in the rocking chair and continued. "In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too deep to swim across."

Ariana fell asleep while Gellert read but he continued to the end. "And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they departed this life." He closed the book. "That's the symbol," he said. He pointed his wand in the air and drew a vertical line that shimmered gold for a moment before it faded. "The elder wand." Then he drew a circle. "The resurrection stone." And finally, a triangle. "The cloak of invisibility. Together they make the Deathly Hallows. Together they make one the master of death. With these, one can change the world."

"Yeah but they're not real." Albus spun around at the voice. Aberforth was standing in the doorway. "It's a fairy tale. Death isn't a personified being."

"This," Gellert pointed to the book, "is just a fairy tale. All folklore originated in some truth though, no? Maybe Death didn't gift the brothers the Hallows."

Albus realized at what Gellert hinted. "They made them."

"They made them," Gellert repeated. "And I'm going to find them."

Albus raised an eyebrow. It was a lofty goal, to find objects of legend that were widely thought to be myth. This was the first time Albus had heard of the Hallows discussed beyond the children's fable. If Gellert was right, if they were real, they must be well hidden. Objects of such power draw attention. He was skeptical of Gellert's quest but the idea simmered in his mind over the next days. There was little else to think about in Godric's Hollow.

The rattle of rough iron cartwheels on the uneven country road disrupted the stagnant air. The donkey harnessed to the cart bayed and the bell suspended from the back chimed as the symphony clattered closer. It was impossible to ignore – a salesman's dream. "Ice blocks!" the man called out. Fresh off the boat from Norway.

Ice blocks, a relatively new muggle discovery. The blocks were cut year-round from glaciers in the arctic circle and shipped around the world. Muggles purchased blocks on a weekly basis and placed them in insulated boxes with their food which could now be kept cold. It was a new way of life made possible by improved ship building ingenuity and increased international trade.

It was one more thing wizards had to conform to.

Albus stood from the from the sofa and retrieved the muggle money from the envelop in the writing desk drawer and a tea towel from the kitchen. He stepped outside to the front gate and rested his forearms on the stone wall. Next-door, Gellert nodded a hello to him. His face screwed into wince when the salesman's assistant dropped a ten-pound block into his arms. Albus huffed a laugh to himself. His fingers absently traced the Deathly Hallows symbol Gellert had carved into the gate post while Mrs. Bagshot counted out coins. She brought a couple of them close to her face and flipped them over to scrutinize the other side before she handed them over. The salesman tipped his hat and coaxed the donkey forward.

"Ice block, sir?" he asked Albus.

"Yes, just one."

Albus paid laid the teat towel across his forearms and braced for the weight. The assistant dug under the large quilt that covered the wagon to protect the ice from the sun. He pulled out a block and dropped it in Albus' arms with a thud that threatened to leave a bruise. At least it was cold. The salesman tipped his hat and the cart rattled on to the next house. Clouds of dust swirled up from under the donkey's hooves as it walked but were quickly supressed by the water that trickled steadily from the cracks in the wooden slats. The quilt only provided so much insulation. Water pooled in a stream on the surface of the pact dirt road. The ground had sealed its pores to protect its last droplets of moisture from the sun and now couldn't drink despite its desperate thirst. The sun would burn off the stream within the hour.

"Aunt Bathilda said to give you ours," Gellert said. Mrs. Bagshot had gone back inside and Gellert had walked over to Albus. "Do you use them? Aunt Bathilda uses magic."

"Found a different use. Come on." Albus lead them back into the Dumbeldore house.

"You could just not buy them."

"And be the talk of the town?" Albus shook his head. "That would draw too much attention."

Ariana ran down the stairs as they walked in. Her white stockings were slippery on the wood and her feet flew out from under her. She gripped the rail with both hands and caught herself. Albus watched, wide-eyed and stunned She looked up from her feet with an unconcerned grin "Snow cones?"

Albus smiled back. "Yes. But only if you don't fall down the stairs and break your neck."

They took the blocks to the kitchen and thudded them onto the counter. "Honey please," Ariana said.

"Honey? Not raspberry jam?" Albus teased. She pouted and shook her head. Albus slipped his fingers around her waist and tickled her. She giggled and then shrieked when he lifted her onto the counter. Albus nodded to the cupboard behind her and winked. "Second self."

"I want chocolate," Aberforth said. He entered the kitchen with two chocolate frogs from his summer stash. "Godric Gryffindor and Egbert the Egregious," Aberforth read off the back of the packs. Albus and Ariana joined in. "Egbert the Egregious lived in the middle ages and is best known for slaughtering Emeric the Evil in a ferocious duel."

Gellert stood by the ice, his eyes flicked between the three of them, his eyebrow raised.

"Chocolate frogs." Abus said. He grabbed the Egbert pack from Aberforth and tossed it to Gellert.

Gellert smiled and turned it in his hands.

Albus placed a small pot on the stove and lit a low flame. He grabbed the milk from the iceless ice box and the jar of homemade raspberry jam, courtesy of Mrs. Bagshot, for himself. He poured some milk into the pot and Aberforth added the Godric Gryffindor frog. Albus nudged Gellert whose focus was on the back card. "These are neat," Gellert said. He stepped up to the stove and shook out the frog. He slipped the card into his pocket. "Melt over low heat to keep them from hopping out?"

"No. To keep him from burning them," Aberfoth said.

"That was once," Albus said.

"Twice," Ariana said.

"Hey!" Albus whipped around to face her. "I'm your favourite."

"Not when you burn the chocolate."

"You wanted honey."

"I want both," she smiled.

"People who want chocolate should deal with the chocolate." Albus said. He pulled a wooden spoon from a drawer and held it for Aberforth. Aberforth took it with a flourish that matched the roll of his eyes. He moved past Albus to the stove and dipped it into the pot to stir along with the slow melt of the chocolate.

Albus dug the big soup pot out of the back of the cupboard and heaved the ice blocks inside. He put the lid on, tipped it up, and slipped his wand in the crack. "Ready?"

Ariana brought her knees up to her chest as a shield and covered her ears. Aberforth stepped back, his arm stretched out in full to continue his slow stir. Gellert stepped closer and peered over Albus' shoulder.

"Diffindo." Albus shot the spell over and over. The ice cracked and popped inside the pot as if it were filled with firecrackers. The lid jumped against his hold. He stopped when the loud cracks settled to a soft crunch.

They lined up every mug in the house and scooped them full of crushed ice. They poured the toppings over top and each took two. Gellert took the extra mug with raspberry jam next door for Mrs. Bagshot and met them in the back garden. The four of them laid in the grass. Ariana's hair splayed around her like the rays of the sun. A breeze that could not find Albus' skin managed to find the unbuttoned collar of Gellert's shirt and it billowed open. They spooned the flavoured ice to their lips, a sweet relief from the afternoon heat. Albus held each spoonful on his tongue and let the melt trickled down his throat. He savoured every drop.

Ariana set down her empty mug and plucked a blade of long dead grass. Mrs Bagshot was good with herbology and happily leant her green thumb. Shade from the elm tree provided some protection from the sun too. But still, the yellow patches grew. Maybe watering the lawn would have been a better use for the ice blocks.

Ariana plucked a second and third blade and braided them together. She made herself a crown. Gellert pulled a yellow dandelion from a weed patch and handed it to her. She threaded the green stem between the dead blades and placed the brittle crown on her head so the flower was tucked by her left ear. Her hair curled around the crown, a delicate weave of life and death and the golden poison bloom that bridged them.

She was ethereal and Albus smiled. Gellert snickered.

"What?"

"Your mouth is all red with raspberry jam."

Albus sucked in his lips and threw a blade of grass at Gellert. He turned away and wiped the back of his arm across his mouth.