Sunlit Days
First / Last
Albus Dumbledore had lived a life so full, it often felt as though he had lived several lives over, all pressed into one.
In those last few minutes of his life - he realised just how fitting it was, that his final night under those vast, twinkling stars, was served towards the greater good.
While his plans that night had gone awry, and there was so much more that needed to be said and done - Albus was perfectly at peace.
Lingering effects of that terrible potion were still fogging his usually impeccable mind, and as he quietly accepted the fate of his impending death; floods of memories began to bleed into view.
His life had been a long, wonderful, and frankly- exhausting journey. A harmonious string of tragedies and sorrow, carefully dancing around the warmth in his heart that was guided by all of those little, wonderful things that had made life worth living at all.
From dedicating his life to the very thing he loved most in the world; down to the pleasures and pain of simply living; he remembered it all fondly.
Though none of those parts of him could ever rival the most wonderful, and precious treasure of them all - love.
In all of its modesty and beauty, even despite the great sorrow and pain that accompanied it; love was the greatest adventure he ever had the pleasure to experience.
In those final moments, fractured images of sunlit days bled through the blinding green light of death - and as he fell into it, he departed this world with open arms and that famous twinkle in his eye, knowing that love would carry him to his next great adventure.
Though his body would decay, and his impeccable mind would perish - Albus was sure that he had left his mark on the world.
For love - that many layered, fickle thing that many sought, but few actually encountered; was the very thing that saved him in the first place.
-oOxOo-
Friday June 30th, 1899
It began one miserable, foggy morning.
How fitting that a day so seemingly ordinary, would become anything but.
The insistent drizzle persisted for hours, pressing on the rattling windows along the rows of cottages; and soaking into the parched earth beneath Albus's feet. He trudged along the winding roads of Godric's Hollow, lost in his own buzzing thoughts.
The wind nipping at his cheeks was slick with rain, cold and welcoming after an unprecedented heat wave, then a lengthy drought - which was terrible business, indeed. Killed all of the family's tomato plants, just as they were reaching the optimal ripeness, too. It seemed as such was all but Albus's luck.
It had been a careless mistake, something that was exceedingly uncommon for Albus - but the trend only seemed to be occurring more and more since the tragic loss of his mother.
Only days ago, Albus had been the happiest he had ever been in his life, as he packed up all of his belongings (which he meticulously packed, and unpacked several times to ensure he wasn't missing anything of importance) and bid goodbye to his family, and the very village he was now trapped in.
Albus should have been across the continent right now, adventuring roads less traveled, reveling in his freedom to explore, learn and teach. Now, it was only a passing dream; one that he came so close to achieving, that he could nearly taste the dry Cairo air, or the salty mists of far off seas.
Instead, he was here, enjoying one of his rare, but much needed breaks from the grief and responsibilities that followed him around like an unwanted shadow - strolling around the quiet village with nothing more than his own bitterness for company. All in all, the journey through the village only took about five minutes one way or the other, and rather aptly; Albus was walking in circles.
Summer hadn't been anything to shake your nose at; because nothing more than the dreary, miserable, and disappointing days laid ahead, as far as the eye can see - or at least as far as Albus could see.
All hopes and dreams for his future had died with his mother, and now Albus was forced to waste his days in the confines of a small, unremarkable village.
The history, sure, was remarkable, but the village itself was no longer held in the same regard. It no longer felt like the delightful place that Albus had once loved to call home, and missed all year round when he was at school. Now, it had become Albus's own personal hell - and a reminder of all that he had lost.
As the rain joined him for his much needed, contemplative stroll, he felt a deep rattling anger for his newfound responsibilities, and his own subsequent frustration. Everything about his life had gone wrong in a matter of days, and Albus could do nothing more than brave it out as best he could - but he felt so selfish for resenting the burdens thrust on him.
Their small cottage was now his own - and his mother had left them with the burden of her debts. The animals and plants in their back garden were now his responsibility, and needed to be tended to daily. The funeral had been planned by him, and dried up the last of their gold. It seemed his tasks were never ending.
The heaviest burden of them all, was the fact that his two siblings now wholly depended on him to be their guardian - and it was a very heavy burden to bear indeed.
With a quiet resolve that reverbed through his disheartened - excuse the pun - heart; Albus had accepted his duty and bid farewell to his former life. What other choice did he have? There was nobody else in their family; nobody to lift the soul-crushing weight of his obligations, and nothing that could remedy the loss that had blanketed what remained of their small, broken family.
After several rounds through the drizzling village, far too many to count, Albus happened upon his own small street corner and decided, bitterly, to go back home and relieve his brother, Aberforth, from the care of their unwell sister.
As his mind snapped back into reality, and he drifted past the wooden gate of their little cottage, Albus came to a sudden halt as he took in the sight before him.
There, amongst his late mother's prized rose bushes and thorned clover - was none other than Bathilda Bagshot; and she was accompanied by a handsome stranger.
How strange.
-oOxOo-
Lately, Albus felt compressed. As though he was trapped in a tight place, with a meaningless existence, and the mounting pressure all around him that he felt helpless to escape.
In short, Albus felt pickled. Jar and all.
That was his life, as of late.
While his morning had been filled with nothing more than the usual stress and unbearably mundane tasks of his daily life - Albus had been faced with something new and terribly exciting: a visitor.
Strictly speaking, they had never been allowed to have guests in their home since moving to Godric's Hollow several years prior, but since Albus was now head of the household… He no longer had to obey that rule.
A jolt of excitement - and panic - came tearing through his chest when his kindly neighbour had explained that she was giving her great-nephew the grand tour of Godric's Hollow. She suggested that Albus invite him inside, without so much as a formal introduction, and left both boys to their own devices. Though Albus managed to catch the devious little smirk that graced Bathilda's lips as she strolled back through the rain under her conjured umbrella; evidently pleased with her meddling.
After an awkward moment of silence, Albus cleared his throat and offered a weak smile to the boy.
"Forgive me, I just need a moment to straighten up the house - we don't usually have guests…" Albus said apologetically. His heart was hammering in excitement, and a broad grin had stretched across his face - despite the boy's stiff, tight-lipped appearance.
Without a backwards glance, Albus then rushed into the cottage and slammed the door behind him.
Immediately two pairs of eyes looked up at him from the absurdly tiny circular table in the center of the kitchen, and the grin dropped from his face.
Breathlessly, Albus could hardly believe what he was saying as he announced to the room at large, "We have a visitor."
Aberforth blinked at him stupidly for several seconds, then wiggled his finger around his ear as though he hadn't heard correctly.
"A… What? No, Albus we-"
"Well, Bathilda didn't leave me much choice in the matter!" Albus said impatiently, "I've just left him outside…"
"Who?" Aberforth demanded. He sat forward to peer curiously through the small window next to the door, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious guest, but slumped back in his seat in irritation when he couldn't make anything out. He stole a worried glance over to Ariana, who was watching the scene as calmly and blank-faced as ever from her seat next to him.
"I… He-" Albus broke off suddenly, having just realized that he didn't even know the boys name, "Look, we don't have time for this Aberforth-"
"Fine." Aberforth growled, scraping his chair back, "I can tell when we're unwanted. Come on, Ariana, let's leave our darling, precious brother to his guest."
Ariana regarded both of her brothers silently for a moment, before quietly padding the length of the room and disappearing through the cellar door without a second thought.
"No!" Albus said desperately, "It's just-"
"I get it." Aberforth spat as he stormed through the kitchen, and slammed the cellar door behind him.
Still leaning heavily against the front door, Albus stole a brief moment of silence which served nothing more than to calm his racing heart.
What did one even do with a guest? It had been so many years since anyone new had been invited into their home, that Albus wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. Since moving to Godric's Hollow, he'd never been able to invite friends to stay, and therefore had no experience playing host for anyone before...
Drinks! Hosts offered drinks, and usually invited their guests to sit…
...and not make them wait outside in the rain.
Albus wordlessly conjured a goblet of water, took a steadying breath, and finally opened the door.
The boy stared at him in bemusement from under his dripping umbrella for several seconds, until Albus had enough sense to move out of the doorway and let him in.
"Sorry." Albus said with a smile as he thrust the drink in his hands. After a moment of thought, he cast the dripping umbrella to the coat rack in the corner of the room with a wave of his hand as well.
Bathilda's nephew stared down at the goblet in confusion, and Albus then realized it was usually customary to offer a drink to a guest, not shove it in their hands.
Feeling rather put on the spot, he hastened to tidy his surroundings as a distraction.
The boy - who still had not introduced himself, stood comfortably by the door with his water as he curiously looked about Albus's small family home, and his various knickknacks.
"I feel the need to apologize, we never have guests and I was terribly unprepared... it's been a long time,you see, and... Oh, I nearly forgot; I'm Albus - would you like a cup of tea?" Albus said all this very quickly, and hoped that he didn't seem as socially inept as he probably appeared.
The boy stared at him with a strange expression for several seconds, then to Albus's utter relief, broke into a wide smirk.
"Just as well." he said, placing his goblet on the table, "You didn't put any water in."
The colour drained from Albus's face.
"Oh."
After a daunting moment of silence in which Bathilda's nephew continued to smirk at him, Albus turned to busy himself with the kettle. He kept his face impassive as he heard the scraping of the chair behind him - but inwardly; he was positively beaming.
Finally, company. Hopefully as enjoyable as Bathilda's - though even she had never been welcomed into the house. Albus's thoughts were positively tittering in excitement by now.
Tittering, indeed.
It wasn't uncommon for Albus to think out loud - much to Aberforth's irritation, and; his own misfortune.
This was one of those times.
"Sorry?" Bathilda's nephew asked in confusion.
Albus wordlessly sent the two mugs of steaming tea to the circular table, choosing not to focus on his own blundering thoughts that couldn't seem to keep him out of trouble for more than a few minutes at a time. He turned away from the shabby cupboards, supporting a small tray of biscuits and set them gently in the center of the table, offering only a small smile as he deposited himself in his rickety seat.
"What's tittering, then?" The boy asked quietly, though a small gleam of amusement shone through his eyes as he clasped his tea firmly in two hands. He blew at a trail of steam.
"I am." Albus replied with a small sigh, fidgeting lightly with his embarrassingly aged biscuits, before dunking one whole into his drink. "My apologies, I do have a few tendencies that I can't help but maintain."
The boy raised an inquiring brow. "Such as?"
"Fruitful conversation."
"Not loud inner monologues?" The boy was smiling properly now, a soft little curve poking at the edges of his lips. Albus thought it rather suited him, and smiled back.
"Good biscuits." he supplied lightly - though they really weren't.
"Good tea." The boy countered.
They stared at one another for a long moment; almost as though they were trying to size the other one up, or measure out their respective inner workings. The boy had very striking eyes, ones that gave Albus the distinct impression of being wholly and utterly scrutinized.
"I'm Gellert." he said finally, and sipped his tea. "So, Albus. Tell me more of your ineffable tendencies, then. You've intrigued me."
Albus surveyed him for a brief moment, as he finished dunking his delightfully soggy biscuit into his tea, and replied. "Well. For one, I have an unfortunate ability to impart half strung - but entirely enthralling - musings as they come to me, whether in conversation or a silent room."
Smirking slightly, Gellert replied, "I've noticed."
"It drives my brother mad." After a few beats of silence, he inquired, "So, what brings you to our little village?"
Gellert's gaze dropped down as he replied. "My Aunt - or Great-Aunt rather, extended an invitation to visit her over the summer."
Albus hummed in reply. "That was very kind of her. Forgive me, but I never knew Bathilda even had a Great-Nephew."
"Our families have been estranged for quite some time." Gellert replied, then fixed Albus with a charming smile. "Though I'm much more curious about your story."
Albus laughed loudly, in spite of himself.
"I get that a lot." he said in response to Gellert's raised brow.
"Do tell." Gellert replied lightly. He tilted his head with the air of pondering something rather important for several moments, then smiled again.
Albus grinned back. "What would you like to know?"
"Everything." Gellert replied with a bright gleam in his stormy blue eyes.
Taking his time to carefully choose another biscuit, Albus decided that he still didn't know what to make of the boy. He was rather bold and curious, and Albus couldn't help but feel a tad overwhelmed by him.
He chewed thoughtfully, and looked up to Gellert who was still watching him quietly.
"Why?" asked Albus.
Gellert merely shrugged. "I'm intrigued. I can't help my curiosity."
"Fair point." Albus replied, surveying the fascinating boy seated across from him.
Just then, Albus felt like he had missed something important, some little fact or detail that had managed to slip right past his (usually) keen observations. There was just something about Gellert; something strange and pressing that Albus couldn't quite put his finger on.
Gellert continued to watch him, quietly sipping at his tea. After a few moments, Albus inclined his head slightly, signifying to Gellert to ask away.
"What's so special about Godric's Hollow?" Gellert asked, without missing a beat.
"That depends on who you ask." Albus replied, thoughtfully. It became quite clear to him then, that the boy had an agenda.
Gellert folded his hands together and sat forwards in his seat, with a brilliant, winning smile spreading slowly to his lips.
"I'm asking you."
"Then, I'm afraid, there isn't much to tell."
Gellert looked only faintly inquisitive, his eyes set on Albus's, as though challenging him to continue.
"It is the birthplace of Godric Gryffindor." Albus said, "A rather small community, almost entirely magical - though there are lots of Muggle farms on the outskirts."
Scoffing, Gellert replied, "These are the basic facts that anyone would know. I want to know what's special about it."
Albus frowned. He felt the distinct impression that the other boy might already know what exactly was so special about Godric's Hollow.
"The seldom known parts are just that." Albus replied slowly.
"Until you ask the right person." Gellert countered.
After eyeing his guest for several moments, Albus continued, "If I were to ask you, personally, about the most hidden parts of Godric's Hollow - It would be advisable to reply quietly." he declared softly, and confidently.
Gellert's expression did not change, though his eyes flickered across Albus's face in a moment of searching. Though what he was searching for exactly, Albus could only guess. Obviously, Gellert knew of the Hallows. That much had become apparent.
Albus, as usual, was too clever for his own good.
Gellert smirked. "Perhaps the volume in which I speak should directly correlate to whom I am speaking."
Albus leaned forwards in his seat. "Agreed."
"Perhaps they should be kept between just us, then."
"I think that would be wise."
A satisfied smirk presented itself on Gellert's lips, and Albus went back to observing him. He himself was rather enjoying their easy banter, and the level of intellect Gellert brought to his absurdly tiny table.
Gellert leaned even closer, hands still tented together. "You intrigue me."
"You've mentioned."
"You seem like the sort of person who knows things."
"I am."
They descended into comfortable silence, as they picked at the aging biscuits and sipped at their tea. The rain, it seemed, wasn't finished announcing it's unrelenting downpour, as the droplets continued to pound against the rattling panes.
Albus did not want to reveal his elation of their newfound dynamic. It was rare for him to encounter someone who rivaled in his own higher levels of intelligence. It seemed, the same could be said for Gellert, who was regarding him with a quiet sort of interest, and as he'd previously said - was intrigued by Albus.
"Perhaps I will return tomorrow, then. I'm sure it won't be difficult finding a suitable topic for discussion."
"Of course." Albus said with a soft smile.
After finishing the last dregs of his tea, Gellert returned his smile and stood. Politely, Albus showed him to the door and held it open.
"I'll have to thank my Aunt for introducing us."
"Of course. Please send my regards." Albus replied.
Gellert extended his hand cordially. Without hesitation, Albus accepted it.
They stared at each other for an indiscernible amount of time, hands clasped in a strictly longer than necessary shake.
Albus loosened his grip, but for a moment - Gellert's lingered.
Then he was gone.
-oOxOo-
AN:/ I struggled immensely with this first chapter, changed it several times because I couldn't quite capture the tone of the story… I still feel like I didn't, but decided to go ahead and publish anyway. Perfectionism will be the death of me.
Anyways, I don't want to be one of those authors that feels the need to write a note every chapter, so I'm getting it all out now. It's a bit of a slow pace in the beginning, but the story will pick up immensely along the journey. I can't decide if it's a slow burn, or a longfic, but I think it might be both?
I chose to go with a slower tone of building their relationship, and weaving in the stories of the whole family as well. I was in absolutely no rush to get to the end (which is indeed half-written).
This story has approximately 30 chapters, though it isn't complete. It also spawned a sequel, rather aptly named The Sun's Demise - both titles are a little metaphorical, and explains the general tone of both stories.
While I can't guarantee a solid upload schedule, I can tell you that there are already 100k words to this series that somehow managed to take hold of my heart, and I will try to do it justice. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.