"Where is he? Where is he?" a squeaky voice cries.
"Last bed to your left," the matron replies. "And please—this is a hospital wing, Mr. Doge. Keep your enthusiasm to a dull roar, if you please."
As the footsteps near, Albus drops his head onto his pillow and closes his eyes. Maybe if Elphias thinks he's sleeping… A hand jabs at his leg. "Albus! I know you're awake! Get up! Get up, come on!"
Albus opens one eye and peers over at his best friend. "I'm supposed to be on bedrest, Elphias. Can't you let me—"
"No." Elphias sits at the end of the bed and folds his arms. "Not after what's happened. What's wrong with you? What has he done to you?"
"I'm not as damaged as I seem, I swear—I just need rest, that's a—"
"Don't lie—everyone in the school is talking about how much you were bleeding when you came in. You are hurt. Now, what has he done to you?"
"What has who—"
"Don't pretend! You know who."
Albus knows exactly who he's speaking of: Gellert Grindelwald.
"Ready for another duel, Albus?"
From where Albus is sitting, leaned up against a tree with a book propped open, Gellert Grindelwald is the most beautiful person he's ever seen. He's dressed in a jade-colored blouse and beige pants, vest unbuttoned, medium-length blonde hair parted just slightly to the left, both eyes glinting in the sunlight. His hands are in his pockets as he saunters towards Albus with a half-smile. "I'm studying, Gellert," Albus counters, raising his copy of Hogwarts, A History. There's a stack of books beside him as well—spellbooks and textbooks and even an untranslated text in Ancient Runes. "Shouldn't you be as well? Our exams are in two weeks."
Gellert's lips part, and his smile widens. "Our exams are about spells, if you haven't forgotten, and dueling involves spells, so dueling is studying." He snatches the book from Albus' hands, and his sunlit skin glows like gold. "Just a couple rounds. It'll help you practice."
"I'm studying for history, so dueling won't help me—"
"No one likes a coward, Albus." Gellert smirks. "Pick up your wand."
He's never been good at expressing his opinions to Gellert; the other boy always seems to know the right thing to say. "Fine. But one round only, yeah? I do have to study." Albus drops his arms out of the sleeves of his robes and rolls up the coral sleeves of his blouse; picking up his wand from the ground, he dusts himself off and faces his friend.
"Fantastic!" He twirls his wand in his hand and motions for Albus to move. "We don't want anything in our way, do we? There. Perfect. Now, let's bow."
Gellert takes a deep, extravagant bow, and Albus copies him, smiling. He'll have to make up for the lost time studying another day, but he supposes he doesn't mind. He loves spending time with Gellert—the other boy is intoxicating in a way he can't quite explain. Not just in the way he looks, but the way he speaks, the way he moves, the way his lips feel against his own...
"Wand at the ready… Three, two…"
"It wasn't him," Albus lies.
Elphias scowls. "Really? So after Gellert went out to the Black Lake to find you and was the only one to see you prior to Professor Marchbanks finding you unconscious, he wasn't the one who harmed you?"
Albus touches a hand to the bandages wound around his lower torso. "Elphias…"
"She found you bleeding to death by the lake, Albus! You could've died—"
"No, I wouldn't have."
"He hurt you!"
"No, he didn't!"
Elphias' nostrils flare. "Why do you keep lying to me, Albus? I always tell you the truth."
Because I can't, Albus wants to say. "You must understand—I'm not that injured, Elphias. The other students were simply exaggerating about the state of my health. I'll be back in the dormitory in no time. Quite honestly, you're making a mountain out of a molehill."
Elphias looks positively outraged. "If everyone was exaggerating, Albus, then why are there three empty bottles of Blood-Replenishing Potions at the matron's work-station?"
Albus shrugs.
"One."
Both teens send bursts of light from their wands, attacking and shielding and attacking more. Albus counters spell after spell, until he finds a hole in Gellert's defensives and sends a Stinging Hex to a side that makes the other teen laugh. "You'll have to do better than that!" he cries, as his wand continues to flourish back and forth. "C'mon, Albus, a little harder!"
Sweat pours down Albus' forehead as his concentration grows, every flick of his wrist a spell, every flash of light a new attack. They go back and forth, most of their spells hitting shields or whizzing past the other—one singes Albus' cheek, and the heat of it startles him. He didn't realize the spells Gellert was using were so...potent. He keeps dueling anyway, and lets out a victorious laugh as one of his spells shatters Gellert's shield charm, but the teen simply conjures another one.
The sun beats down on them—the flowers abloom at their feet wither as spell after spell scorches their precious corolla. The seconds go by like minutes, each whip of their wands a blistering battle. "I'm stronger than you'll ever be!" shouts Gellert, as Albus falters and takes a step back into wet soil. "Ready to give up?"
"Never!" Albus shouts back, his body hot with exertion, and he switches his wand to his other hand then, giving reprieve to his aching, throbbing wand arm and shooting magic with his left. It's a trick Gellert taught him two months prior. Charms and hexes and spells sour the air—the Black Lake ripples with a reflected rainbow of each new colour, and sea creatures vanish from the surface in fear of the rising heat between the two boys.
Albus blasts another spell at Gellert, and the boy whips one at him in return; when the blood-red spell zips past him, he can almost taste it, the Darkness of it acidic in its magical fervor. That was the Cruciatus Curse. In his momentary disarray, another spell hits him with a bang, this one a different colour than its predecessor, a curse so turbulent that it turns the sky upside-down and his body into a deadened mass.
He lands on his back.
There's a candle at his bedside from the night before, the wick blackened and the wax deformed, and a cold cup of tea beside that. He hasn't touched either. "You wouldn't understand—it's—complicated, I suppose."
"I'm your dearest friend, Albus. And I'm not as dim-witted as the other Gryffindors would say—I am capable of understanding complicated things, just as you are capable of explaining them. Tell me what he did to you."
Albus cracks his jaw. "He didn't do anything to me. We were just dueling, that's all, and he got the upper hand."
"The upper hand?" Elphias shakes his head, his voice melancholy. Albus shifts anxiously beneath the blankets of the hospital bed. "Albus, there's dueling...and then there's slaughter."
The teen scoffs. "It's not—"
"It is! Albus, how can you be so blind? He's vain and selfish and vicious and—and cunning! What you have with Grindelwald—it isn't safe by any means. He could've killed you!"
"He's an incredibly powerful wizard," Albus insists. "He possesses the knowledge of endless spells and curses—he's the most brilliant person I know. That does not make him cruel or evil; he never meant to do me any true harm. He's just…" Elphias stares sadly at him. "He's just strong." Why won't Elphias believe him?
"Do you truly believe that?"
Albus has never been so breathtakingly mesmerized by anyone in his entire life. There's discomfort surging from his gut, but it doesn't hurt, not truly. He feels strange, like the world is tipping upside down, and he can't seem to catch his breath. Just slightly, he moves his head, and he sees the other boy. He looks like something of a god with his blonde hair and half-smile, and Albus can't remember how he got on the ground.
As Albus watches, Gellert tucks his wand back into his pocket and walks over to him with slow, purposeful steps, simply observing. "Got you that time, didn't I?" he says, and his words are warped, like a song in the wrong key. "Sorry about the blood—but you were getting sloppy, dearest Albus, and I just had to raise the stakes." He squats in the dirt beside Albus, and Albus notices with a muddled rush of confusion that he can't make himself move and that his shirt isn't supposed to be that red. "Gellert…" he tries, and the other boy presses a kiss to his cheek.
"It's an incredible spell, though, don't you think? I've actually never tried that one before. But there's a first time for everything…"
He feels tired.
"Sorry to leave you, but they'll blame me for hurting you—you won't tell, will you, Albus? It was all just fun and games…"
The last thing he sees is Gellert's legs as he walks away, with those same purposeful steps and his hands inside of his pockets.
Elphias won't stop staring at him. "You know, a lie keeps growing and growing until it's as clear as the nose on your face."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Albus grumbles.
"It means…" The other boy stands up, scratching at the back of his neck. "...if I can't convince you, I suppose this is something you'll have to learn for yourself. The hard way."
"There's nothing to learn," Albus stresses. "You're making him about to be some kind of villain, Elphias, but he's not. It was an accident. You'll see, I'll be back on my feet in no time."
Elphias sighs. "Okay," he gives in. "If you say so." As Elphias leaves his bedside, Albus doesn't feel as though he's won the argument at all; in fact, he feels sick to his stomach.
Perhaps he should ask the matron for more potion.
Written for: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) [Gryffindor]
Term 12 - Assignment #9: Potions: Blood Replenishing Potion, Task #1 [Write about someone suffering from extreme blood loss.]
Challenges: Writing Club, Insane [359: Albus Dumbledore], 366 [331: vain], Spring Seasonal, Geek Pride, Fortnightly, Murder Mystery May, Say It With Flowers
WC: [1680 words]