This is Edinburgh. It was once a finer city. It was once the great muggle capital of Scotland. It was even greater, some Scottish muggles still think, before the fucking Treaty of Union that made Scotland and England the same country...along with Wales...and then Northern Ireland, too, sometime later...
Alas, muggle corpses now litter the streets. They lack murder wounds. Alas, they're as pale as death gets. The muggle world in Britain has taken a lot of hits from wizardry, in the past few decades. And there's been no Ministry of Magic to prevent this.
A new flag flies over the city. It's not Scotland's. Rather, it's the Alliance's. Hence, Grindelwald's been here. He didn't come alone. He never does, but... It seems that in this timeline, he has a partner of sorts. And it's not one of his acolytes. He is, but he wasn't...
As one nears the Firth of Forth, alas, something changes. There are no corpses. And these banks were NOT uninhabited, before the Alliance got here...
There are goat tracks. They lead towards the coast...and vanish. They vanish before they get to the water line.
Offshore, there are caves. Every now and then, the ocean's waves crash against the huge rocks that contain them. North Atlantic seas, after all, can get very rough...
Inside one cave, there's a great pool...with a little island in its center. All over the cave floor, scallop shells are strewn. Serpents' heads have been sculpted into some of the walls.
A message has been scratched into a wall, by a fairly-recent visitor. The message reads, MARVOLO GAUNT WAS HERE. An even more recent message has been scratched just beneath that one. This one says, ORION BLACK WAS HERE, TOO.
In another one of these caves, there's a pit. It was once a subterranean lake. Now, there's a heap of muggle corpses in it. The Alliance slaughtered them. And yet, there's not a single Alliance acolyte in this cave.
Atop a rock in the cave wall, a goat sits. He seems a bit apathetic about what's going on. He shouldn't be. His master, after all, is about to commit an act of dark magic that'll almost be enough to rival some of Grindelwald's darkest ones...
Meet Aberforth. He's lived a long time and seen a lot. And yet, for the most part, he still doesn't look a day over thirty.
Against the cave wall, a painting leans. It's of his late sister, Ariana. She has a skeptical look on her face. For some reason, she always seems to...
At last, all of the muggle corpses are in place. Aberforth ascends from the pit, via a levitation spell, and sets himself down on the side.
Into his hand, he conjures his wand. It's no Elder wand...but it's no broken stick, either. What's more, the wand prefers him. Mr. Ollivander once made sure of that, back when Aberforth was eleven...
He points his wand into the pit and recites a few enchantments. As he recites them, he can feel the darkness consuming his soul, as his wand puts it there...
Before him, the corpses transfigure...into a liquid substance. The liquid is harlequin, and glows. It's necromancy potion. It's what necromancers, in British wizardry, use to create inferi (i.e. zombies).
Not all of the muggle corpses were what they seemed. One of them...might or might not have been an Hebridean Black (i.e. a dragon) transfigured to look like a muggle corpse. The muggle had claws on his hands and feet, and very sharp teeth...as well as a long forked tongue. Parts of his skin were also black...and they weren't black from necrosis.
Nonetheless, the potion has been brewed. Now, it's time for Aberforth to address the hard part of what he's come here for...
Far away, in the Hebrides, there's an island. Fog surrounds it. The Alliance patrols the outside of it. A ring of boulders stands in its center.
Within this Stonehenge-esque ring of boulders, a wedding tent has been conjured...and custom-enchanted. An imperial wedding is about to happen here. Merlin knows that one of the grooms has waited FOR-FUCKING-EVER for this wedding to commence...
That's right; this is a gay men's wedding. The two co-heads of the Alliance, it turns out, are gay men, as well as only the greatest sorcerers who've ever lived.
Inside, the altar stands.
The chapel area of the tent doesn't fill up much. A few gay wizard couples come, and are seated by Acolyte ushers.
Very few of the gay male wedding guests are ex-Gryffindor. Most of them are Slytherin. If they're not homogenously Slytherin male or homogenously Ravenclaw male, they're of a Slytherin gay male and a Ravenclaw gay male.
There are a few Hufflepuffs, too. Alas, almost none of the gay Hufflepuff couples are homogenously Hufflepuff. The either have a Ravenclaw husband or a Slytherin husband. The Hufflepuff/Slytherin gay duos do not get on well. As a married couple, they're more likely to fight than everyone else who's come to the wedding.
On the other groom's side of the chapel, just as many wedding guests are gay male Durmstrang students. If they're not Scandinavian, they're Slavic. A few of them are Uralic. One is a Karkaroff. Another is a Dolohov.
A gay dog couple is also in attendance. One is a Scottish deerhound. The other is a west highland white terrier. They both wear pink collars...complete with pink streaming ribbons. Their wedding tags are rainbow-colored.
Down the aisle, Gellert comes. He doesn't look a day over thirty, either. Behind him, his cloak levitates, like a flying carpet. Under his rule, flying carpets are legal in British wizardry...as are dragons.
On either side of the aisle, the wedding guests stand. They revere him; sometimes too much.
Gellert sighs. "As you were," he demands. "I can't always be your Imperator, you know."
Shyly, they all re-seat themselves. As a result, the Hufflepuff-and-Slytherin gay male spouse duos start repeatedly slapping each other in the face...like in a Three Stooges short.
Speaking of what, some Acolytes watch an old black-and-white short film in another wing of the wedding tent. It's titled, the Three Yaxleys. Every now and then, they burst out with laughter.
A few of the Yaxley-affiliated Acolytes don't, of course. Lucky for Gellert, though, there aren't very many on the Alliance's roster these days... But then, several of them did fail him, during a few anti-muggle battles back on the British mainland...
Back at the altar, Gellert stands at the altar, and awaits his groom. His cloak levitates nearby, in a handy location...
Ever since becoming one of two living Masters of Death, Gellert has had the three Deathly Hallows duplicated. Now, he and his groom both have an Elder Wand, a Stone of Resurrection, and a Cloak of Invisibility of their own. They can now both command Death without needing to take turns with the Hallows.
Gellert looks around. Something about this wedding bores him... He smiles, and with the hand on which he wears his Resurrection ring, he reaches into his cloak. For that time, his hand remains invisible.
Within the cloak, he waves his hand around, and casts a spell. All around, a swarm of extradimensional fireflies appears. They glow pink. They distribute themselves evenly all around the wedding tent, adding decor to the pre-nuptials.
These fireflies aren't just extradimensional; they're extinct. Their world was destroyed, in a wizarding war, a long time ago. In their time, and in their world, they were a popular sight at gay weddings. And they don't stay pink; they evolve, and soon glow every color of the rainbow. (Each one glows a different such color at a time.)
On one side of the altar, the ushers assemble in a rank. On the other, the groomspages do. (A groomspage is like a bridesmaid; only at a gay man's wedding.)
Elphias Doge is the page of honor. Poor boy; he still doesn't know whether to receive this as an honor or an excuse to barf. He shouldn't sneeze, though; he might sprout an elephant trunk, and take the entire wedding tent down with him. Or worse, he might banish those pink fireflies back to the past.
Near the altar, a harp plays some soft pre-nuptial music. It's been bewitched to play itself. It's golden. It was once a gift, to Gellert, from the Rosier pureblood wizarding family. It has also since been enchanted with some of Queenie Goldstein's heavenly charms.
As Gellert stands at the altar, awaiting his groom, one of his more feminine-looking...if not feminine-being...acolytes swaggers up to him. It's Vinda Rosier. She's worn black for the wedding...and she will sit among the Durmstang alumni on Gellert's side of the chapel.
Gellert bends towards her, without looking at her. "Where," he mutters, "is Aberforth?"
She leans towards him. "We don't know...my Lord."
Prolonged silence follows...
"That might not be good enough," Gellert mutters. "Have security tripled around the perimeter. If so much as an anti-gay supremacist rows a boat up to the shore..." The fourth wall zooms in on his and Vinda's faces. "Terminate with extreme prejudice."
Vinda nods slightly. "Aye, sir." With that, she teleports away in a thin black cloud.
All around the wedding tent, a magical dome has been sewn. Every now and then, a comet of smoke strikes against it. The bolt of this comet soon materializes into a wizard or witch. In nine times out of ten, this wizard or witch wears old Ministry of Magic robes. Either that, or they're a rival pureblood. Once they materialize, they get electrocuted to death. Once well-done, they fall through the dome, land on the tent roof, roll down the side like an oaken log down a hill, and topple off the end. At this rate, they inadvertently build a wall of corpses around the wedding tent.
Elphias keeps making frightened expressions, each time this happens. "Uh, Gellert," he stammers, "what's going on up there?"
Gellert smiles, and shields his eyes, while looking up through the wedding tent's roof fabric. "THAT, my dear little baby elephant...is a spell of my own making."
"Figured." Elphias's voice is reminiscent of that of John Fiedler. "But what does it do?"
"It's my anti-gay Old Ministry official zapper. You see? A lot of wizards and witches who are loyal to the old order are also loyal to a social system where gaydom is abnormal psychology, rather than a part of nature that demands respect. A lot of them think that this wedding between me and Albus is an abomination; so they come here, expecting to arrest us for trying to get married. Well?" He smiles and points up at the dome...just as it electrocutes another arriving ex-auror. "That dome, up there, is the only thing keeping those pathetic old-timers from crashing this wedding. Thanks to me, me and my groom will actually get married today, without doing a single day in Azkaban." He beams down at Elphias. "Wicked, eh?"
Elphias only shakes his head, still paranoid. "I'm starting to understand why Aberforth didn't want this job..."
An archway separates the chapel part of the tent from the rest of it. The arch's keystone is a wizarding clock. In ways, it's reminiscent of the clock tower at Hogwarts School. But then, of course, as a Hogwarts alumnus, the other groom, at least, wouldn't have the wedding of his dreams any other way.
And now, the clock approaches that time. For that, it releases a small murder of red-winged blackbirds, as a two-minute warning. All around the chapel, the crowd stands. The other groom is about to make his grand entrance...
Less than two minutes later, the other groom appears within the archway. He's got a bouquet of flowers in one arm. He's in bridegroom robes. A Deathly Hallows pendant hangs from his neck.
Behind him, his Invisibility Cloak levitates. Like a good Master of Death, Albus remembered to wear his Resurrection ring to the wedding of his dreams.
Meet Albus Dumbledore. He doesn't look a day over thirty, either. While Gellert can't really say that Albus is his one and only...he can say that no other man, or woman, who he's ever met has ever loved him with half as much passion as Little Albus, the pride of Hogwarts's very own Gryffindor House. He's even been more passionate about Gellert than little Vinda...who might or might not have a longtime crush on Gellert.
The harp stops playing. A synthesizer, which also plays itself, improvises a little wedding march, as Albus makes his way up to the altar. It's baroque...and sounds a lot more like a funeral dirge than a wedding march... Either way, it's the only dream Gellert knows. And Albus would certainly hate to upset his groom.
From a platform near the wall of the chapel...which, in some ways, resembles a basketball goal...a head hangs mounted. The head belongs to a muggle woman...who bears the likeness of Brie Larson 2019. The engraved plate just below the poor captain marvel's head says this:
TAKEN BY YON-ROGG, CHAMPION KREE SNIPER OF STARFORCE, IN ARCHES NATIONAL PARK, IN UTAH, IN THE SUMMER OF 1995. EXCELSIOR!
Sorry; one of the names is wrong. Let's try again:
TAKEN BY ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, CO-IMPERATOR OF BRITISH WIZARDRY, IN ARCHES NATIONAL PARK, IN UTAH, VIA A TIME-TURNER, IN THE SUMMER OF 1995
Another such plaque sits next to that one. It's got a head mounted on it. The head bears the likeness of Paul Anderson 2011. Its engraved plate bears the following caption:
TAKEN BY DOCTOR JOHN WATSON, PRIDE OF THE BRITISH CROWN, IN SOUTHEAST AFGHANISTAN, IN THE WINTER OF 1879
Yep; one of the names is wrong yet again. Let's try again:
TAKEN BY ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, CO-IMPERATOR OF BRITISH WIZARDRY, IN SOUTHEAST AFGHANISTAN, VIA A TIME-TURNER, IN THE WINTER OF 1879
A third mounted head sits next to that one. The head bears the likeness of Bai Ling 2004. Unlike the two other mounted heads, this head once belonged to a gynoid (i.e. a robot that looks like a woman). The plaque that the head is mounted to bears the following engraving on the plate just beneath where she's mounted:
TAKEN BY JOSEPH SULLIVAN, THE MAGNIFICENT SKY CAPTAIN, IN SHANGRI-LA, IN THE LATE SUMMER OF 1939
Sorry; got the name wrong yet AGAIN. Let's try again:
TAKEN BY ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, CO-IMPERATOR OF BRITISH WIZARDRY, IN SHANGRI-LA, VIA A TIME-TURNER, IN THE LATE SUMMER OF 1939
With a chest full of Gryffindor pride, Albus takes his rightful place next to the groom, at the altar. His own cloak has followed him all the way.
Above their heads, their dual Invisibility Cloaks meet...and tie themselves in a rather romantic knot. Some guests on Albus's side of the chapel, at least, find this amusing.
At the altar, Gellert and Albus join hands. Both hands are equipped with one of the two Resurrection Stones. Into their other hands, they conjure the dual Elder Wands...
One self-conjuring black cloud later, and the altar finally has a reverend. She's a hot Goth model in a black bikini. (Or rather, that's what she's shapeshifted into.) She jiggles when she moves. Her hair is long, black, and straight. Her lips are big. She speaks with a creepy whisper.
At this, a lot of the wedding guests seem crept out. Elphias looks like he feels like vomiting.
Into her long, black-nailed hands, Death conjures a book. The book opens, and the pages turn on their own. She conjures a cigarette, and lights it, as she begins the ceremony. She blows smoke, as she speaks it.
"Hotly sexified," Death hisses, "we have all gathered here, on this catastrophically and tragically foggy day," she regards her two masters, "to unite this wizard, and THIS wizard, too...in certainly SEMI-holy matrimony..."
"Excuse me," Albus interrupts, "but why are you doing the ceremony in a Dixie accent?"
She chuckles malevolently...and flaps her hair with her long finger. "I'm always plotting to kill ya, honey." She adjusts her boobs. "And BAT'S how we do it!"
Albus blinks, and nods. "Never mind. Continue."
Gellert and Albus aren't bothered by Death's obscene appearance. They can't be; they're both gay. Or rather, Albus is; every now and then, though, Gellert pulls a stunt that makes Albus wonder just how gay he really is... Even so, Albus, at least, wouldn't know Death's boobs from his own parents' refuse. And as a boy, he was no incestual. He was already queer enough, as a gay boy...
Back in the cave, the harlequin potion bubbles. Everything is just about ready. There are two things that still aren't.
Near the cave wall, a trunk sits. Its lid lies open. Its interior smells like goat rubbish.
Up a stairway inside, Aberforth ascends. He's brought another goat carcass to the surface. As he climbs out of the trunk, he rips one last tag off this goat's ears.
He throws that tag on a grown pile of tags just like it. All those tags, believe it or not, belong to dead goats that Aberforth brought to this cave in that trunk.
Atop a ledge, the first goat attempts to shield his face. He's seen too much gore for one day...
Aberforth wades into the potion, with the goat carcass in his arms. Exhausted, and with an ever-darkening soul, he drops the last goat carcass into the potion. It floats a little, out into the little lake of potion...and dives, vanishing.
Now, Aberforth wades back out. This process has made his soul darker and darker. So much so, in fact, that...
He conjures his wand and points it at the first goat. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
A flash of green light later, and the first goat falls from the ledge. One levitation charm later, and he's been dropped into the potion, too.
Make that THREE things that still weren't...
Near another cave wall, a coffin sits. Aberforth dug it up from the massive cemetery at Godric's Hollow. She was buried underneath a tombstone that was between that of a Peverell's and that of a Potter's. That of an Abbott's was right behind it.
Aberforth waves his wand and opens the coffin. Inside it, his sister Ariana lies. Via magic, she doesn't look a day over nineteen. She's as pale as death, and then some.
In her painting, she still frowns. She clearly doesn't approve of what's about to happen. And yet, her brother acts anyway. For him, it's too late to turn back.
With a spell, Aberforth levitates her corpse. He lowers her into his own arms and reverses the charm.
Once again, he wades out into the potion's pool. It feels strange, holding his dead sister in his arms... Even so, he must do this. He and his sister must do this. Their family has been wronged by a power-hungry and treacherous member. Hence, it's time for retribution...whether their big brother, Albus, would acknowledge this or not.
Now, Aberforth's more than waist-deep in the necromancy potion. He sighs and kisses his sister's cold forehead one last time. He's already branded her forehead with a goat rune.
"Do us proud, Sis," he says. "Make our brother rue the day he ever thought that power matters more than family. And get Gellert to, too, while you're at it."
With that, he releases her body. On her back, she floats into the middle of the pool...and then dives into it, headfirst and backwards. Down there, she vanishes.
All around, torches on the cave walls light themselves. In the deeper chambers, volcanic fires light. The fires of hell approach. Soon, this cave will become subject to an inferus infestation.
Wand out, Aberforth backs out of the cave. The cave's noises get louder. In the center of the potion pool, the potion starts to bubble. That only gets worse. Beneath the surface, shadows swim around. They get scarier and scarier, as the process continues...
Aberforth grabs Ariana's painting, on his way out. In it, Ariana sadly mopes, turns around, and walks farther and farther away from the painting's fourth wall...until she vanishes into a wood that's right behind her.
Beneath the surface of the potion pool, Ariana's corpse merges with that of the dead dragon's. From there, a fire burns in her belly. Ridges grow along her back. Dark and rough scales cover her body. She grows fangs. She grows a tail. The tail produces an arrowhead at its end.
She grows bat-like wings. She becomes ten times longer than she ever was tall. Like a ferocious beast, she hungers for stags...and coos. If she was never Gryffindor material in life...she sure as hell is SO much more than that now...despite being dead.
Her eyes become purple...and reptilian. They're malevolent...if not lifeless.
