Beyond the bronze doors of the temple was a long hall bounded by high stone walls, filled with rows of wooden benches. The walls were set with stained glass images of gods, saints and martyrs, and reached all the way up to the vaulted ceiling. At the far end of the hall stood the altar, and behind it, a circular bronze portal engraved with Woden's two crows, leading to the inner sanctum of the temple.
The smell of incense lingered in the air, and the sound of muted voices raised in hymn seemed to come from the walls themselves. As it was Monday morning, the place was empty but for a few especially devout villagers and the priestess, Sister Claennis.
Being inside the temple usually gave Albus a deep sense of peace. In here, the sights and sounds of the outside world were locked away. All that remained were the gentle hymns, rolling over the mind like a soothing tide, washing away all cares and worries, the beautiful artwork shining from the walls, the musky smell of incense. The temple was its own little world of light and wonder, sealed off from the ugly and harsh realities outside. But although he felt calmer on the surface, Albus did not feel very peaceful today. He could not stop thinking about Gellert, kicking himself for falling for him. There was a sick churning in his gut.
Gellert walked past Albus and looked around, taking in the sights.
"A beautiful building," Gellert said. "May we enter the grove?"
"Yes," said Albus softly.
With Sister Claennis' permission, they passed through the the circular bronze door engraved with ravens. Inside was a small grove of huge, gnarled old trees, stretching their limbs high into the open sky. From their branches hung long strings tied with mysterious objects: round stones, discs of metal and little dolls. It was oddly hushed, no sound except for the whispering of the wind through the leaves and the faint murmur of hymns.
The two boys knelt before the trees, drawing out their wands and laying them on the soil.
"The sacred trees," Gellert said. "Ash, holly, oak, pine, fir and many others besides. Inside their veins flows the magic, a gift from the gods. Inside our veins there is magic also. From the wood we make our wands, a gift from the trees. The power inside the wand joins the power inside the wizard. Together, forever. As one."
Albus was silent. Then he said, "Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field the Lord God had made. And he said to the woman, 'For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.' And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof and did eat, and gave also to her husband with her. And he did eat. And both of their eyes were opened."
Sllowly, Albus reached out and laid the tips of his fingers on his wand. As his skin made contact with the wood, he felt a jolt of some powerful energy flowing up the wand into his fingers, like lightning. In a flash the room spun around him and disappeared...
"Gellert! Gellert!" Annabel danced around the room, on the tips of her toes like a ballerina. "Bet you don't know what I've got."
"Go away," Albus growled. "I'm busy." His voice came out in some foreign language, strange and harsh, yet somehow he understood it.
"Play with me. Play with me or I'll tell Papa that you hit me."
At the mention of Papa, his heart began pounding in fear. Fear quickly turned to rage at the sight of the stupid little girl in front of him. He couldn't hurt Papa, but he could hurt Annabel. How dare she threaten him? He ought to curse her into oblivion right now.
"I'm warning you, you little shit," he said. "If you bother me, I'll kill you."
"You wouldn't dare." She stuck out her tongue at him. "If you do anything to me, Papa will beat you."
"He's not here now, is he? Crucio!"
Annabel screamed at the top of her lungs, collapsing to the ground and writhing in pain.
Albus watched her with intense delight. The sight of her stupid little body, which had always been a source of irritation to him, flopping and jerking around on the floor like a rag doll, gave him great satisfaction. He wanted to go even further, increase the flow of magic until her little body broke under the pressure, and she died. The thought excited him.
Albus lay under the covers, whimpering and trembling, his body aching all over. He was covered in cuts and bruises from the physical and magical blows his father had dealt him. The worst part had been the Cruciatus Curse, but the others had been nearly as bad. At least the Cruciatus Curse didn't break the skin...
He hated Papa. His blood boiled with rage at the thought of the big man with the terrible temper. He wanted to kill the bastard. He wanted to torture him, see the pain in his eyes, make him crawl and beg for mercy before the finishing blow. Let him know what it felt like to be afraid and powerless. Albus could do it, he was almost as strong as his father now. One day he would just snap, pull out his wand and kill the mad fucker, and the little bitch too. He would leave his mother alive. She was the only one who had ever been kind to him.
Gellert...
Albus stiffened. A voice? How did it know his name? This must be one of Papa's tricks. Albus would ignore it, and it would go away.
Gellert... come to me...
The voice was coming from the case where Papa kept his wand. Albus wasn't allowed to touch that case. He had taken Papa's wand out and played with it once, which had earned him the worst beating of his life. He wouldn't do it again.
I can help you... use me...
Slowly, he slid out of the bed and walked towards the glass case, as if in a dream.
"Are you Papa's wand?" he said.
Take me! Oh, take me, touch me, join your power to mine...
"But you belong to Papa..."
I did. But you are much stronger than him, more worthy of holding me. Take my power, and let me take yours in turn. We will feed on each other, grow stronger. Take me now. Kill your father and I will be yours. Together we can do whatever you want. I will kill your enemies, make your dreams come true, release the power sleeping inside you. Take me!
Albus reached out, fingers trembling. He slipped open the glass case and gingerly lowered his fingers inside. He touched the wand...
"Albus?"
He was back in the grove beside Gellert, kneeling with his fingers pressed to the wand. Sweat beaded his face, his heart was pounding in his chest and he was breathing heavily.
"Albus? Are you all right?" Gellert repeated, looking concerned. He had moved closer to Albus."You seemed disturbed. I thought the ghosts were showing you a vision."
"I - I'm fine," Albus said. He didn't know what had happened. His mind was still reeling from the things he had seen and heard. His mouth was dry. He swallowed.
"What was that you said earlier? About the tree and the knowledge of good and evil. It was very beautiful."
"Oh, that," said Albus, still coming to grips with his surroundings. "It was just a verse from the Bible."
"Which Bible?"
"The Christian one."
There was a pause. Then -
Crack! Gellert's fist crashed into the side of Albus' head, sending him sprawling into the ground, his face pressing into the musty soil.
"You dare... how do you dare... in this holy place... where our ancestors were killed by Christian dogs!"
Slowly, Albus sat up, rubbing the side of his head. When he opened his eyes, he saw Gellert staring back at him with a look of pure madness. Gone was the cheerful, handsome face of Gellert Grindelwald, twisted beyond recognition. Something else was looking at Albus, some demon possessing Gellert's features, a creature of pure malice and hatred.
Shocked and frightened, Albus leapt to his feet and stumbled backwards.
"Albus, wait." Gellert rose and grabbed Albus' wrists, pulling Albus back towards him.
"Let me go," Albus said, twisting and trying to pull away. Tears had sprung to his eyes when Gellert had punched him, and now they escaped and trickled down his cheeks. It was too much, all of it. He had been so looking forward to seeing Gellert this morning, he'd been in love with him, but then he'd found out that Gellert wasn't interested in him, and now he had been struck in the face by the man of his dreams. It was too much to take in at once.
"I am sorry," Gellert said. "I am so, very sorry. So much. Please, Albus. I didn't mean this." Still gripping Albus' hands despite his best efforts to twist away, Gellert walked forward, pushing Albus back, sending him stumbling backwards until he was pressed up against a tree trunk.
"Albus, listen to me! I wasn't thinking. I didn't mean this. You must forgive me," Gellert insisted, his face barely two inches from Albus', his breath hot on Albus' mouth.
Albus turned his face away. Most of his mind was still numb from shock, but a new feeling was stirring inside him now. He felt himself growing hard at the closeness of Gellert's body, the touch of Gellert's hands on his wrists, Gellert's beautiful face so close to his own, Gellert's eyes burning with emotion. Albus wanted to be kissed right then and there, more than anything. He wanted Gellert so badly, his mind was going blank. All he could think of was the taste of Gellert's lips on his, Gellert's tongue inside his mouth. What would Gellert's body feel like, pressed against his... oh, gods, it would be so good...
"Albus?" Gellert shook him slightly, moving his face closer. "Albus, speak to me."
Albus didn't know what came over him. In a moment of madness, he turned his head and kissed Gellert directly on the mouth. For one blissful instant, Albus knew nothing except the sensation of soft lips and the taste of Gellert Grindelwald. It was perfect, the happiest thing that had ever happened to him. If he died at that moment, he would die in peace.
Gellert broke away and stared at Albus with revulsion and contempt in his eyes.
"Mein Gott," he said incredulously. "You are a queer."
Albus couldn't take it. He couldn't bear to see the disappointment and disgust in Gellert's face. He couldn't handle the hatred in the word Gellert used, the word that had been spat in Albus' direction since he was a child. He thought his heart would break. He turned and ran out of the grove, out of the temple, his feet pounding against the ground. He kept on running with his head down, trying to leave behind the shame and hopelessness and pain of all that had happened to him. He didn't stop until he had run out of breath, and found himself deep in the graveyard beside the temple.
In the temple grove, Gellert stood for a few moments, deep in thought. Then a broad smile spread across his face and he began to laugh.
"So the Dumbledore boy is a queer! Perhaps the gods are watching me after all. I wanted a way to control him, and he just now gave himself to me. Could anything be more perfect than this? Maybe it was meant to be."
Shaking his head, he retrieved his wand from the ground, said a brief prayer of thanks, and walked out of the grove.
Albus lay face down on a stone slab, resting his head on his arms. His tears had run out, and he felt hollow and empty now, like the inside of him had been scoured clean by the salt of his tears. It was a good feeling, not caring about anything, just lying there and being silent. It was strange. This morning, all the colours had seemed brighter and fresher than ever, but now everything was grey and misty. It was good, though. He didn't want to feel anything ever again.
"Albus." Someone touched him on the shoulder. Albus rolled over and sat up, and Gellert sat down beside him on the stone slab.
"I have treated you very badly, Albus. You must be angry at me."
Albus was silent, his head bowed.
How could anyone be angry with you? How could anyone be angry with perfection? You're like an angel that fell from heaven. This world isn't good enough for you.
Can a swallow be angry with the sky? Sometimes the sky is calm, sometimes it storms, but either way, without it the swallow is nothing.
Can a boat be angry with the ocean? Can a flower be angry with the sun? Can a worshipper be angry with his God?
Could I ever be angry with you?
"Gellert..." said Albus. "That word you called me. I don't like it. It hurts."
"It was wrong for me to say that about you. I am sorry." Gellert moved closer to Albus, slipped an arm around his shoulders. He murmured in Albus' ear, his voice sending shivers down Albus' back, "Do you remember what I told you last night? About how you are a rare and precious soul, and I need you to help me? Together we can do some amazing things, I said. This is still true. This is how I feel about you, Albus. Do you accept my apology?"
More tears came unbidden to Albus' eyes. "Gellert," he whispered, "you don't have to apologise to me. Never... I... before I met you, I... my life was empty... I..."
"You are such a gentleman, Albus." Gellert kissed him, gently at first, on the side of his cheek, on his eye, his lips catching Albus' tears, then lower down, trailing kisses all the way along Albus' jawline. He lifted a hand to Albus' face and turned it, kissing him deeply on the mouth, pressing his lips onto Albus', forcing them apart with his tongue. Both his hands were on Albus' face now, and he slid his fingers through Albus' hair...
Albus was lost. He felt himself dissolving, melting away. But suddenly, he remembered the look on Gellert's face, the tone of his voice as he'd said queer, and he pulled back.
"I'm sorry," he said. Sliding off the marble tomb, he ran out of the graveyard as fast as his legs could carry him.
A soft tapping on the door startled Mrs Gilsham as she wiped flour and crumbs off the counter.
"We're closed," she called. Who could be knocking at this time? She turned to make sure that the ovens were switched off, and when she turned back, the boy was in the room.
"Oh!" she said. "How did you get in? It's Gellert, isn't it?"
He was so tall and handsome. His golden hair gleamed in the firelight as he stepped closer towards her.
"I need something from the back room," he said.
"Ah. You see, we're closed at the moment. Could it wait 'til tomorrow?"
"I need something from the back room," he repeated.
Slowly, Mrs Gilsham undid her apron and hung it beside the oven. She hesitated for a second before she walked slowly and deliberately, like a sleepwalker, into the back room. After a moment she heard the door close behind her and lock with a click.
"My husband is upstairs," she said, as she turned to face him.
"I do not care." He unbuttoned his coat and allowed it to fall to the floor. He stripped off his scarf, robe, socks and underwear and threw them, one after another, to the ground. Standing there naked, he was magnificent, flawless. Mrs Gilsham stared at him hungrily, drinking in the sight of every inch of his body. She had never seen such perfection. He almost looked more divine than human.
His mane of golden hair was tousled and rumpled, hanging down around his face in long wisps. His face was long and intelligent, almost wolfish looking, with hard blue eyes, a long, straight nose and a strong chin. His shoulders were broad, his arms well-muscled and his chest sculpted. His stomach was flat, his thighs and calves bulging. When he moved, muscles swelled and contracted in his arms and legs, rippled in graceful paths under the skin of his stomach, tightened in the smooth curves of his buttocks.
A light, creamy golden tan suffused his whole skin, as though he was accustomed to sunbathing. Also covering his body was a fine down of golden hairs, so light they were invisible except when they caught the firelight, or where they gathered into thicker growths: around his nipples, under his armpits, on his legs, in the narrow trail descending from his chest, through his navel, right down to the mat of golden pubic hair. His cock was erect and longer and thicker than her husband's.
He strode towards her, reaching her in three strides. "Kneel," he said.
"Pardon?"
"Kneel. On the floor." He placed a hand on her shoulder and pushed down, forcing her to her knees...
[A/N: The following few paragraphs were sexually explicit. I decided to remove them in case they violated guidelines. I will probably upload them elsewhere.]
Afterwards she lay spent and exhausted on the floor, aching all over, but it was a good ache. Without a word, Gellert turned and walked over to pick up his clothes from where he'd dropped them. She admired the play of the firelight on his body as he walked, the choreography of muscles in his buttocks and legs and the way his manhood swung as he squatted to reach for his clothes.
"Gellert?"
He ignored her, pulled on his underwear and wriggled into his robe.
"Gellert?"
He pulled on one sock after the other.
"Gellert? Will you come back?"
He turned and smirked at her.
"What, come back? To a saggy old cow like you?" He scoffed as he wrapped the scarf around his neck. "You are lucky. Usually I don't fuck any girl more than once. I only came to you because you must have been nice looking when you were young. To tell the truth, your pussy was so loose and dry, it was like fucking an old sock."
He turned and walked away. Before he left, he grabbed a pastry from a tray by the door.
"I am taking this," he said. "These are the only muffins in this shop worth having. At least you can still cook. And you owe me some food, since I fed you so much. You will be coughing up my sperm for weeks."
He left, shutting the door behind him.
Mrs Gilsham lay on the floor on the verge of tears. She had never felt so cheap, used and humiliated in her life. She should have known a man like that was too good to be true. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
But as she remembered the sight of Gellert's naked body, how mouthwatering he had looked in the firelight, how he had filled her up from the inside, the sweet taste and the musky scent of him, the pleasure he had given her besides the pain, she realised that she didn't regret what she had done. She would treasure the memory for the rest of her life.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Sharon Bannister stirred and sat up, the covers falling from her as she rose from her bed. She had been having the strangest dream. Something was tapping at her window.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
It was no dream. Something really was tapping at her window. She slid out of bed and made her way over. Opening the window softly, she gazed out into the street.
Someone was standing right beneath the window. With a shock of pleasure, she realised it was that wonderful boy she had met that morning in the post office, Bathilda's great-nephew. What was his name? Gareth? No, something foreign. Gellert.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered down to him. Suddenly she realised how awful she must look, having just gotten out of bed. Her hair was a mess! She couldn't let him see her like this. She backed away a little, hoping that her hair was in shadow.
"Is anyone else in your room?" Gellert whispered.
"No."
Swiftly and silently, Gellert leapt from the street, seeming to walk straight up the wall, slid through her window and entered the room.
"What are you doing here?" she repeated.
"Oh, Sharon," Gellert whispered. He looked so handsome in the moonlight. It was incredible, he looked like a fairy prince from one of those adventure stories. And his accent was so interesting and foreign.
"I had to see you again. Ever since I saw you in this morning, I have not been able to stop thinking about you. You are the most beautiful, wonderful girl I have ever seen. I brought these for you." He produced a bunch of roses, glowing purest silver and so delicate they looked as though they had been spun from moonshine.
Sharon gasped. "Where did you get those? I've never seen flowers like that before."
"I made them. Especially for you."
"Oh, Gellert. They're wonderful! But I don't know if you should be here. I, I'm not dressed or anything. My hair's a mess..."
"Nonsense," Gellert whispered, brushing a stray curl from her face. "You are lovely. So lovely..."
A/N:
Hi everyone. A few things I want to say.
Firstly, you probably notice that this chapter seems to be heading in a different direction. It contains a sex scene, which I'm nervous about because I'm bad at writing them. But as with all kinds of writing, you can only get better with practice. I'm not sure I'm happy with the tone of the chapter. If it works, there will be a few more future chapters like it, more mature and graphic. But the majority of the story will explore Albus and Gellert's emotional relationship and friendship, although sex is of course important. For example, you can't understand (my AU) Gellert without understanding his sexuality. That doesn't mean I have to show all the scenes graphically, but I think the sex scene here sheds light on Gellert's character rather than being gratuitous.
Secondly, thanks to the most recent reviews: Kathy, Arpie and anonymous. I disapprove of writers bribing or begging for reviews, but I have to say they do make me update more quickly. I'm in a pretty bad situation at the moment, with exam stress, and I've had problems with chronic depression, so writing this story is a release for me to stop me from going mad. It's hard to feel inspired to write when studies and health problems are sapping your energy, so people reviewing and letting me know they're enjoying the story and looking forward to an update is a good motivator for me. Thanks everyone. Kathy, your review was especially kind and encouraging, so an extra special thank you.
The Bad News: My semester has been extended for two or three more weeks. I can't promise regular updates, or even any updates, until that time is over. I will try and write as much as I can, but if I can't, I might just have to leave you guys on a cliffhanger. Sorry. The good news is I'll definitely update more frequently after my exams are over. Until then, take care.