Written for: The Houses Competition, Round 3
Summary: Albus Dumbledore says goodbye to two people he loves on the day of Ariana's funeral.
Ariana was buried on a cloudy day. Her funeral was short and bittersweet, attended by the few people who knew she existed. The tiny chapel in Godric's Hollow was a witness to the small number of Ariana's mourners. Kendra Dumbledore had attended the chapel as a child, before finding out she was a witch. As an homage to her and their Muggle heritage, the Dumbledore brothers decided to hold their sister's funeral in the same place as their mother's.
Midway through the funeral, Aberforth punched Albus in the nose. It would forever stay crooked.
Albus did nothing to prevent the punch. He felt he deserved it - and then some - for his role in Ariana's death. The blood from his nose trickled onto his chin and collarbone, staining his white shirt. It didn't matter to him: no amount of his spilled blood would bring his sister to life.
After the short funeral, they moved out of the chapel to its cemetery, finding the plot where Kendra had been buried only two months prior. The grass was barely growing; the headstone had only just been placed. In death, mother and daughter were reunited.
"Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."
Albus himself had chosen the epitaph for his mother and sister's headstone. Aberforth, in his grief and rage at all that had come to pass in the summer of 1899, said there were no words to describe how precious Ariana had been to him.
Albus tried his best.
The petite, white casket was lowered into the ground. There were no further words, no laments, and no more tears as Ariana was laid to rest at her mother's side. Albus tasted the bitter, salty tears and the metallic, tangy taste of his own blood on his lips. He couldn't help but think that he belonged under the earth rather than his innocent sister.
One by one, the mourners left the gravesite, leaving only Albus and Aberforth to stare at the fresh pile of dirt. Aberforth grunted, glaring at Albus, and walked toward the direction of their home.
Albus's chest rose and fell in the heat and humidity of the August afternoon. It had been only a week since Gellert had fled, following Ariana's sudden death. Gellert hadn't left a letter; he hadn't said goodbye. He'd fled with the blood pact phial, leaving Albus to wonder if he had been loved, after all.
A long shadow appeared on Albus's right. At first, he thought it was one of the clouds overhead, casting its gloom over his misery.
"You are free now."
Albus closed his eyes. His heart ached and raced all at once, hearing the voice of his beloved.
"I will never be free again."
"She is gone, Albus."
"I know." His words came out in barely more than a whisper. The shadow grew taller as Gellert came closer. He stood behind Albus now, close enough for him to feel Gellert's soft exhalation on his neck.
"Come with me," he said softly, putting his hand on Albus's waist. "You have nothing holding you back now." He placed a soft kiss on his neck, nuzzling his nose under Albus's earlobe.
"I can't," Albus replied, pained. "Not anymore. It's over."
Gellert removed his hand and took a step back. Albus turned around, and Gellert gazed at him, breathing hard. He murmured a charm, and Albus no longer felt the drying blood on his face.
Gellert moved his hand to cup Albus's cheek, tipping his head up slightly to brush their lips together. Albus could feel his warm, familiar breath on his lips; he inhaled the delicate scent of lavender that Gellert always seemed to carry with him.
"If you say it's over," Gellert murmured, "then we are over."
Albus swallowed the lump in his throat, afraid to agree.
"Your silence tells me all I need to know." Their lips brushed slightly again, and Albus wanted to sink into him, unwilling to leave on such bitter terms.
"I have our phial…I will carry it with me always. We could have been great, you know?"
"You don't have to leave me," Albus pleaded. "We can work through this."
"Have your intentions changed? You will not change the world with me, as you once promised?" Gellert challenged.
Albus's eyes filled with tears again.
"You have made your decision. Goodbye, Albus." Gellert moved back to him, bringing his face close to Albus's once more.
Albus felt the barest brush of lips against his. He leaned forward, hoping for more, but Gellert disappeared, leaving him alone in the cemetery, next to Ariana's freshly buried remains.
He turned back to look at the pile of dirt, face stinging. A crack of thunder rent the air; the humidity grew ever more oppressing in his lungs.
"Goodbye, Ariana," he whispered, as tears ran down his face. "I will never stop being sorry."
And that was when the rain began to pour down.