A/N: It's been a while since my last update, but I'm back :) Hope you enjoy the chapter!

• THREE •

Masters of Death

Albus entered his family's tiny kitchen to find Aberforth and Ariana curled up in a corner of the floor, a sack of marbles spread out around them. The warm smell of onion soup lingered in the air and Albus approached his siblings cautiously.

"Ab?"

The grubby teenager looked up. So did Arianna, her blonde hair spilling over her shoulders. "What?" grunted Aberforth, while Ariana resumed rolling the little glass balls around the floor.

Albus sat down in one of the hard-backed, wooden chairs. "I've just come from Mrs Bagshot's house."

"And what does the batty old woman want now?"

Albus glared at his younger brother. "Don't call her a 'batty old woman'."

"Batty young woman, then," Aberforth muttered, his arm still around Ariana. But his expression faltered slightly as he caught sight of Albus' wand, which he was fumbling with in his lap. "All right, I won't call her that. What does she want?"

Glancing down at his wand himself, Albus' grip on it tightened. "Nothing. She just wanted to invite you around for dinner."

There was a silence, broken only by Ariana's soft humming and the clink of glass on stone.

Aberforth turned away. "Remembered us, has she? Feeling sorry for the brother and half-mad sister of the brilliant Albus Dumbledore?"

"No," said Albus, his eyes still on his wand. The smell of the soup made his head spin and his stomach growl, even though he'd already eaten several of Bathilda's cakes. "She just wanted you to be fed. She said it was a shame that you had to make dinner."

Aberforth gave a small grunt. "Don't worry. I'm used to it."

"Well, you don't have to be used to it. Come and have dinner with us."

The grunt turned to a snort of disgust. "And why should I? When has it ever been 'us'? I've never given a damn about your stupid dinner parties and as for Ariana-" He broke off as she wriggled under his arm, her child-like hands shifting to cover her ears.

The humming had stopped.

"Ariana?" asked Albus quietly, scraping back his chair. He half-rose from it, his heart pounding, terrified that they'd set her off with their raised voices. It always took so little to startle her these days.

Aberforth turned on his brother as Ariana writhed again. "Now look what you've done!" he hissed, his eyes flashing. "You've gone and upset her like you always do!"

"It wasn't-" Albus stopped talking as the fear became too much to bear. "What's she doing?" he breathed instead, sliding out of his chair and dropping to his knees beside them both.

Ariana uttered a soft little scream, her whole body tensing in Abeforth's arms. The two brothers watched with growing horror as their sister began to thrash harder than ever, her teeth grinding, her eyes wide and scared.

"Ariana?" whispered Aberfoth, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder. Albus noticed he was shaking. "Ariana? Ari, it's okay. It's okay."

"Let me see her," said Albus firmly, starting forwards. But Aberforth shook his head.

"No. Don't touch her. You've done enough," he hissed and Albus fell backwards, curling his knees to his chest as the cold from the hard stone seeped through his skin.

He watched as Aberforth leaned forwards, his breath tickling his little sister's ear, murmuring words of comfort that meant nothing to Albus. Slowly, Ariana sat up, her fists unclenching, her shoulders relaxing. She curled into a ball among the marbles, her head resting against Aberforth's chin, mumbling to herself and moaning.

Albus' grip relaxed on the handle of his wand. "She's okay."

Aberforth snorted. "This time. You're lucky she didn't explode anything." He leant down again to wrap his arms around Ariana's narrow body and she squeezed him back, burrowing her face into his chest, her blonde hair falling everywhere.

"I'm sorry," breathed Albus, his voice cracking.

"You should be. You're always setting her off with your know-it-all talk. It's not fair."

"I don't-"

"You do. When have I ever hurt her?"

Albus winced. "I'd never do anything to Ariana, Ab, you know I wouldn't."

"Not on purpose, maybe," replied Aberforth, "but you don't always know you're doing it. That's the worst type of hurting of all."

As pain twinged in Albus' chest, his hand fell limply at his side. The wand slipped from between his fingers and clattered to the floor, rolling to a halt somewhere beneath his chair. Aberforth was right. Aberforth was always right. Albus had never been good with love. Everyone he cared about ended up hurt - his father, his mother, his brother, his sister. Even Elphias had been abandoned to go off on his own around the world.

A bitter smile twisted Albus' lips.

"What is going on?" The light, lilting voice came from directly behind the two brothers, startling them both. Even Ariana pulled away from Aberforth's chest to stare.

Albus bent to pick up his wand, then straightened up, his cheeks flushed, coming face-to-face with azure-blue eyes and familiar golden curls. "Gellert!"

"You've been an awfully long time." Gellert folded his arms in the doorway, his eyes roaming the tiny, cluttered kitchen that so resembled Bathilda's. "Old Batty sent me to fetch you."

"Who are you?" snapped Aberforth, climbing to his feet and glaring over Albus' shoulder at Gellert.

Albus stood up between them, his fingers shaking. "Ab, don't be rude-"

But Aberforth's wand had been withdrawn from his cloak, pointing straight at the intruder. "I said, who are you? What do you want? What are you doing here?"

"Aberforth-" said Albus, a little more loudly this time, looking desperately at Gellert. He half-expected the blue eyes to be cold, to be angry, but to his surprise, Gellert was still smiling.

"I am Gellert Grindelwald. You do not know me. Now lower your wand."

Aberfroth didn't move.

Gellert's fingers twitched towards his pocket, his expression unwavering. "Lower it. Now."

Slowly, still glaring at the older boy, Aberforth's wand arm dropped several inches.

The smile grew wider. "Good. Albus, Batty told me to come and get you. She said she understands if you'd rather eat with your brother and sister, but-"

Behind Albus, Aberforth snorted. "He sure as hell ain't eating here. He can stay at your place, keep out of the way for once."

Gellert's eyes hardened. He turned to Aberforth, and Albus momentarily lost sight of his face. "Do not interrupt me," he said, his voice resounding off the kitchen walls. Ariana cowered against the dresser and Aberforth fell silent. "As I was telling Albus, my aunt is happy to end the visit if you would like it, but she wants to know that you are all right."

Albus bit his lip, looking from his brother to Gellert and back again. "I'm fine. Aberforth and Ariana will come with me for dinner."

"No, we ruddy well won't!" snapped Aberforth, dropping down beside Ariana. "I'm not sitting through one of your stupid dinners and I'll thank you not to make my decisions for me."

Albus ignored this. "Ariana is delicate so we might need to be careful."

"Haven't I already told you, we're not going!"

Gellert looked from Albus' serene face to Aberforth's tense one, his smirk widening. "We have a difference of opinion? Well, this is a problem."

"It wouldn't be a problem if he'd just listen!" snarled Aberforth, his face inches from Albus'. "But he never does, even though he's supposed to be so brilliant."

Albus turned away. "Ab, stop talking. You'll upset Ariana."

"Upset Ariana? Me? You were the one setting her off with your high-and-mighty talk earlier!" But Aberforth stopped shouting, breathing heavily, his nostrils flared and his wand raised.

Albus saw him throw a frightened half-glance at Ariana, who mercifully didn't seem to have noticed the scene. But Gellert followed the two brothers' gaze, staring down at the crumpled little figure on the floor as though putting two and two together.

"What happened to your sister?" he asked quietly.

"None of your business," snapped Aberforth, but Albus bit his lip.

"She's ill," he murmured. "I told you back at your aunt's house. She's too ill to go to school." Beside him, he felt Aberforth stir.

"Why the hell are you telling him? He doesn't even know you."

Gellert glared. "I happen to be Albus' friend. Now stop being child-like and leave us to talk about something useful."

Aberfroth raised an eyebrow but didn't move. "Like what?"

"I have told you to leave."

"Gellert," said Albus softly, sensing danger. "Gellert, don't talk to Aberforth like that. It's not his fault, he's just-"

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me," said Aberfroth loudly. "But I wouldn't stay here if you paid me a thousand Galleons. I'm going and you can have dinner without me. Come on, Ari." He bent to help Ariana up and, eyes wide, she followed him from the room, the hem of her blue skirt drifting out of sight.

Gellert's eyes followed its motion as the door closed behind them.

Albus began to grow uneasy, but Gellert still seemed to be smiling and, at last, he broke the silence.

"Do you have a bedroom?"

"Yes. Of course."

"Is it a private place to talk?"

"Yes."

"Then we shall go to it. I want to tell you something."

Wondering what on Earth could be so important, Albus followed his new friend out of the kitchen and into the hallway. They climbed the stairs together, listening for Aberforth and Ariana. As they reached the faded door that led to his small, old-fashioned bedroom, Albus caught the sound of voices drifting through from the room next door. He hesitated.

"My siblings might be able to hear us," he told Gellert, one hand on the doorknob. "If what you have to say is dangerous-"

"It doesn't matter," said Gellert carelessly and Albus pushed the door open, leading the way inside. True to his word, Aberforth had left the window open and the light scent of roses drifted through on the warm summer air.

Albus sat down on the bed, feeling awkward. He had a feeling his cheeks were turning pink.

Gellert peered around at the soft wallpaper, the worn oak furniture and the bookcases on the walls. "This is a pleasant room."

Albus stared at a spot on the bare floorboards. "Thank you."

"You have a lot of books," said Gellert, turning to run his hand over some of their spines. "Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling... Jinxes for the Jinxed... A History of Magic... You are a fan of my great-aunt's work, then? And what's this?" He had stopped at the very end of the bookshelf, where a peeling book of runes had been tucked behind a copy of Confronting the Faceless.

Albus said nothing and Gellert slid the book from the shelf, his expression curious.

"The Tales of Beedle the Bard. The original?"

Albus nodded.

"Ah. Well, now this will make everything much easier." Gellert turned, still tracing the faded letters on the front cover of the book, pouring over them as though there was some great treasure concealed inside, and Albus watched him, shivering slightly in the summer air. "You know the tales?"

"Naturally. My mother told them to me when I was a child. The Tale of the Three Brothers has always been my favourite."

A flicker of triumph danced in Gellert's azure eyes. "It has? Then I am glad, for I wish to tell you something and your knowledge of the book will be very valuable to me. Stay sitting."

Albus crossed his legs, curiosity flickering through his chest along with the pain - memories of his mother reading the book to him when he was young, arguments with Aberforth over who's turn it was to pick the story, their father's mellow laugh resounding off the walls...

Gellert remained standing, now flicking through the stiff, yellowing pages. "Let me read the story to you again."

"I already know it by heart," replied Albus. He closed his eyes. "There were once three brothers who were travelling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across-"

"Very good," Gellert smiled. "But do you know the true meaning behind the tale?"

"I-" Albus looked up into the bright eyes and felt his head spinning. He shifted his attention back to his hands, swallowing. "Yes, I've heard the legend."

"Masters of Death, Albus. Masters of Death."

Albus shook his head. "It's not possible," he murmured. "Tamper with the deepest mysteries - the source of life, the essence of self - only if prepared for consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind. You must know what Adalbert Waffling says about meddling with the lines between life and death. The story is a myth. A fascinating myth but a myth nonetheless."

Gellert smiled. "Myths are born from legends. And legends are the children of fact."

Albus said nothing to this. He knew that already, but the idea that there was some sort of truth to the tale terrified as much as it thrilled him. An unbeatable wand, a stone of resurrection and the most powerful invisibility cloak the world had ever known. The idea that they were real sent tremors running through him, a desperate wish to dive into the deepest, most murky realms of magic and never return.

"You know they are real as much as I do," whispered Gellert, bending down so his breath tickled the top of Albus' head. His voice was laced with hunger, but Albus kept his eyes on his lap, afraid to see his own thirst reflected in the other boy's face. "The three brothers - you must know who they are, you must have heard of their power. The Peverell brothers-"

"I know who they are," said Albus flatly. "Antioch, Cadmus, Ignotus... My mother told me. They were the three brothers described in the tale-"

"The ones who took those gifts from Death." Gellert dropped down beside him and Albus felt the mattress creak as it sunk. "Albus, if the brothers are real, the Hallows must be too. Think of their power, the strength they could bring us! Tell me you feel the same pull that I do, that same curiosity."

"Gellert-" Albus glanced up, searching the other boy's face. The hunger he had dreaded seeing gleamed in his eyes, the craving for knowledge that he himself had repressed for years. "Gellert, it's a fairytale."

Gellert's gaze intensified. "A fairytale with centuries' worth of proof to fall back on."

Albus sighed. It would be reckless to give in to the temptation that hat haunted him for years, to throw himself into the thicket of his wildest dreams. He remembered his childhood, the nights he had spent lying in moonlight, his eyes wide awake - thinking, wondering. He remembered searching the pages of books for a deeper meaning to the tale, finally giving up and confronting his mother; is it real? he had asked her. is it real? Were there three objects that the brothers took from Death?

And she had told him the story of the Peverell brothers, the tales that stemmed from them over the centuries, the tales of their power, their cunning, and the unbeatable wand that Gellert was now asking him to believe in. It was a childish dream, a dangerous dream. But it was a dream which tempted him beyond all others.

"All right. There might be a wand. But I doubt the other two are real."

Gellert slumped backwards on the bed, laughing. "Oh, Albus Dumbledore. You are so mundane."

Albus flushed. "I beg your pardon?"

"You are." He stopped laughing and lay there, his fingers inches from Albus' leg, his golden curls falling over the sheets. "You are so mundane, it is like talking to my aunt. She could never believe in anything unless it was shoved under her nose, either."

"I confess I've never really had much patience for Divination."

Gellert's eyes sparkled. "You haven't?" He sat up again and studied Albus' face more seriously. "Broaden your mind, Albus. Believe in the unknown. The Deathly Hallows are real and we will unite them. Trust me."

For a few seconds, Albus hesitated. He'd lost everything, been forced into a life of shame and exile just because he trusted his parents when they told him everything would be fine. It had never been fine. And yet, as he looked into the other boy's face and studied the mystery of his features, he felt himself letting Gellert's words wash over him.

"All right," he said heavily. "I will."

A/N:

It's been a while since my last update, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thank you so much for reading and for letting me hear your thoughts!

~ Lacy