According to Night, the Earth's magical field is strongest at the Earth's core and decreases with rising altitude. This is corroborated by Yoreham's law, which states that the strength of a magical field at any given point is inversely proportional to the distance of the point from the source of the field. For this reason, spells cast at higher altitudes require a greater expenditure of magic than spells cast at lower altitudes (the Apfel-Strudel effect).
For small spells, the effect is negligible. However, when casting a large number of highly complex, energy intensive spells, the effect becomes very significant. For this reason, the proposed Magical Particle Collider to be built in Geneva, Switzerland, will have to be constructed deep underground.
As Albus scratched the last few words on the parchment with his quill, there was a knock at the door of his bedroom. He ignored it, dipped the quill in ink and wrote on.
If we assume that the average intensity of the Earth's magical field at sea level is -
"Albus."
The quill jerked, splattering ink across the parchment.
"Albus. It is I, Gellert. Open this door."
Taking deep breaths, his heart pounding in his chest, Albus sat with the quill clenched in his hand, squeezing his fist so hard that his nails dug into his palm. Gellert? Here, now? Right outside his door? No. It couldn't be. He wasn't ready to face Gellert, not now, not ever. He wanted to run, to hide, to be anywhere but here. He couldn't bear to see the contempt in Gellert's eyes again, contrasting cruelly with the beauty in Gellert's face and body. It only made Albus confused and hurt.
The knocking became louder, more insistent. "Albus. Open this door now."
"No! Go away. Leave me alone."
"Open, I said. I want to see you."
"I don't want to see you!" Albus shouted. "Never again! Just go away and leave me alone."
There was a pause. Then -
Bang!
The bedroom door burst open in a shower of red sparks and grey smoke. Gellert emerged from the haze, took two steps into the room and paused, his wand held loosely by his right side. Somehow he appeared much taller and fiercer than usual.
"I am not accustomed to being kept waiting," he said.
Anger took hold of Albus. All the feelings of hurt and shame seething inside him rose to the surface and bubbled over into fury. The sheer arrogance of Gellert Grindelwald, the idea that he could do whatever he pleased, go wherever he wished, treat life as some sort of game, with no respect for other people...who on Earth did he think he was?
"Are you deaf?" Albus shouted, drawing his own wand. "I told you to go away!"
"Before you say anything further, catch this," Gellert said. A small ball appeared in his right hand, which he hurled at Albus in the blink of an eye. Instinctively, Albus reached out with his hand, and as the ball struck his palm, he felt the sensation of a hook jerking behind his navel, pulling him off his feet. The ground fell away beneath him as the room dissolved into a whirlwind of shapes and colours. He was flying forward, speeding through a vortex of sound and motion.
A Portkey.
Thump.
Albus hit the soil hard, the breath being driven out of him with a grunt. He rolled a few times before coming to rest on his back and opening his eyes, dazed and disoriented. The sky was black and star-flecked. It was cold. He had no idea where he was. Slowly, he rolled over, picked up his wand and clambered to his feet.
He was standing in the centre of a forest clearing. Tall, dark trees stretched away in every direction and the scent of pine or some other tree sap was sharp and strong in the air. There was something unsettling about the trees. Apart from the whispering of their leaves (why were the leaves rustling when there was no wind?), the forest was dead still and silent.
"Caw. Caw. Caw."
On the branch of a tree at the clearing's edge, a big, black crow perched, staring at Albus with its huge yellow eyes.
"Caw. Caw, caw," it insisted, hunching its back and ruffling its wing feathers.
The sight of the bird stirred something unpleasant in Albus' memory. Crows. They had many meanings, none of them happy. Was it a messenger from Father Woden? A servant of Cronus, Grandfather Time? Was it...
"Death," said Gellert.
Albus spun around. Gellert was standing a few feet behind him. He must have Apparated so softly that Albus hadn't heard him.
"Do you know what a crow does when it finds a living animal?" Gellert asked. Slowly, he began to pace around Albus. "It makes no difference how big the animal is. If a crow is hungry, it will follow. Because they know."
Albus shuddered. Was this real, or was this a scene from one of his nightmares? He hated this place, hated the whispering trees and the dead silence hanging over the forest and the staring crow, perched like a grim harbinger overhead. This whole wood made him sick to his stomach. He wanted to leave right now.
"Know what?" he asked, despite himself.
Gellert stopped pacing, turned and fixed Albus with a piercing stare.
"That all things die," he said.
Albus shivered again. The way Gellert said those words, with such iron certainty, they were more than a statement of fact. They were a death sentence, a condemnation of everything that lived.
"What about the gods?" Albus asked.
"They die too," Gellert said.
"But how? They're immortal."
Gellert shook his head. "Do you know who Asherah is?" he asked. "Or Molech? Hubal? Ba'al? Or a million others?"
"Asherah," Albus answered. "A goddess worshipped throughout the Middle East, the wife of El. Molech and Ba'al, gods of the Canaanites. Hubal, a Arabic moon god worshipped in the Ka'aba."
"No longer. Once these gods, and a million others like them, had mighty temples with thousands of followers sacrificing and praying in their names. They controlled entire nations. But as time went by, new religions came and replaced the old. Foreign armies invaded and slaughtered the followers of the old ways and introduced the new. Today, no one remembers the names of these old gods. Their temples stand empty and abandoned, buried under mountains of sand. Such is the fate of the gods. Even they also must die. One day our Magian religion will be wiped out by our enemies. Woden, Thor, Freya, Zeus, Athena, Osiris, Ra, Heracles... all of our gods are fading into the shadows of time. One day they will be gone, replaced by the Christian god Jesus or the Muslim god Allah. And in time, even the Christian and Muslim gods will die and be forgotten, and replaced by a new religion. All things must die. Even gods."
Gellert crouched and, using the tip of his wand, began to trace in the soil of the clearing. "All things must die. This is a fundamental law of the universe. So fundamental that animals know it. This magical law is so powerful that nothing, not even gods, can break it." He dragged the wandtip down, drawing a straight line in the soil.
Albus was silent. He didn't like all this talk of death, this obsession with their inevitable destruction. Maybe it was true that everything had to die, but the two of them were alive right now, weren't they? Even if their lives lasted just a short while, why waste the time they had on bemoaning their fate? Shouldn't they be treating every minute as a precious and rare gift?
"But," Gellert continued, "the study of magic teaches us not only that laws exist, but also that if the wizard is skilled enough, if the will is strong enough, the laws of magic can be manipulated, counteracted… or even broken." He drew a circle over the lower half of the line. "There always is a way. The greater the law, the greater the amount of magic needed to work against it. And if "all things must die" is the greatest law of all... then only a magic of equal strength can work against it. This magic, the old, true magic, would require wizards of exceptional skill. And the most powerful magical objects." Around the circle and the line he drew a triangle.
Can it be? Albus wondered. Is death really the greatest magic of all? Just because it's the most final, does that mean it's the most powerful? Life lasts for the blink of an eye. Love lasts for even less time than that. And death is forever. But does that make death the greatest?
What if Gellert were right? What if there really were a magic powerful enough to overcome death? Myths of immortality and resurrection abounded, but no wizard living or dead had actually managed to create such a spell. Supposing it were possible, Albus could bring back his mother and father. They would be a family again… and Albus could be a child, with a proper childhood. He wouldn't have to be a parent to Aberforth and Ariana. He wouldn't be stuck in Godric's Hollow, he would have the freedom to go wherever he wanted, do whatever he pleased, just as Gellert did. In his mind's eye, he saw his family together, his parents and his brother and sister. Death had marked his family since he was a little boy. How different things could have been.
As Gellert stood upright, Albus saw the symbol etched in the ground at Gellert's feet. It was the sign he had seen in his dreams.
"Caw. Caw. Caw," the crow croaked from its perch, flapping its wings.
Gellert smiled. "My little messenger of death. Come here. I have a message for your master." He held out his right arm, and the crow left the branch, fluttering towards Gellert on its shining black wings. With much flapping, it came to halt, perched on Gellert's outstretched arm.
Gellert stroked the crow's glossy plumage with his left hand. Then, without warning, he grabbed the bird tight around the neck. It croaked, flapping its wings and lashing out with its talons in desperation, but Gellert only took hold of its neck with his right hand as well, squeezing and choking the life out of it. With a sudden twisting motion, he broke the crow's neck, leaving its body dangling limp and lifeless from his hands.
Sickened, Albus covered his eyes. "Why did you do that?"
"Why not? It was going to die in any case. It was only a question of when. I was in fact doing it a favour. It had a long life of cold, starvation and fear in front of it, and I have saved it from all of that."
"That's ridiculous. With that kind of logic, you could justify killing anything. What's to stop you from… " Albus hesitated. "Killing people," he finished eventually.
Gellert only smirked.
Albus' stomach churned. "Why did you bring me here, Gellert? Are you – are you going to kill me?" Albus' voice broke as he asked the question.
Gellert's eyes were narrow and cold as they regarded Albus. "Do not be silly. I would never hurt you. In the first place, you are my friend. Secondly, you are useful to me. I need you more than I have ever needed anyone."
That reply failed to put Albus at ease. There was so much about Gellert that was strange and unpredictable. It seemed to Albus that being friends with Gellert was like being friends with a wild beast, a wolf or a bear. He was impossible to tame, and there was no knowing when he would turn on you. And what did Gellert mean by saying Albus was useful to him? Did that mean Albus was safe until he stopped being useful?
"Tell me, Albus. You have studied magical philosophy. You are learned in the laws of nature, physical and magical. In your opinion, is it possible to break even the most fundamental laws of the universe? If death is final, can there be a magical spell, a power to work against it? Is it possible?"
A quotation rose in Albus' mind, summoned from his distant memory. He said, "If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth."
"Yes," said Gellert. "I agree. Come, follow me." He began to walk, the dead crow swinging from his right hand. After a moment's hesitation, Albus followed him.
I wonder what Gellert believes in? Albus thought. I don't think he's conventionally religious, not with all his talk of gods dying. I don't think he believes in other people. He doesn't have enough respect for them to believe in them. I think he believes mostly in himself. He seems to think he's capable of doing anything he puts his mind to. If I were as powerful and as confident as Gellert, I would have great faith in myself as well. I've never believed in myself… I wish I did. It must be nice, never having to doubt yourself, never having to think of yourself as worthless.
They left the clearing and began to pass through the trees, lighting their wand tips to see by. The trees reared on either side, their trunks twisted and writhing, their branches rising and spreading, blocking out the moonlight, gnarling into claw-like shapes, their leaves rustling. Albus didn't like them. He didn't like the way the wind hissed through their leaves, the way their boughs reached towards him and raked at him with their tips, the way their roots rose out of the ground and caught his feet, causing him to trip and stumble. A couple of times he found himself lagging further and further behind Gellert, and he had to hurry to catch up, racing towards the light of Gellert's wand in the darkness. He didn't want to be left alone in this godforsaken place, and he had a creepy, irrational feeling that the trees were trying to separate him from Gellert. He couldn't stand the silence, so he spoke to hear the sound of his own voice.
"This is rather silly," he said, "but this wood is making me quite uncomfortable. It's strange. I'm not sure about German Magians, but we English Magians believe that forests are safe, holy places."
"No," said Gellert. "They also can be dangerous places. You are right to be on guard."
"But… we believe that good spirits live inside the trees."
"Not only good spirits."
Now that Gellert had said it, Albus knew that it was true. In British folklore and mythology, the forest was not just the home of the gods. It was the home of other things, the dark hidden things that lived outside the human world: the Fair Folk, the Elven King, the Big Bad Wolf, the Wicked Witch, the trolls, ogres and giants, the merfolk, kelpies and selkies… and worse things.
The dark woods were the opposite of civilisation. The village represented home, safety, humanity, law and order, light, the known and familiar. The wood was wilderness, danger, spirit, chaos and discord, darkness, the unknown and strange. Every British child heard the stories warning them to stay out of the woods at night. Deep in the forest lived the Wicked Witch and the Big Bad Wolf, and worse things. Don't leave the village after dark, don't go into the forest at night, my dear one, my little one, my precious. Stay here with me. There are bad things…
Who's afraid of the Big, Bad Wolf?
I'm not afraid. I love him. He won't hurt me, he said so himself.
Shivering, Albus quickened his pace and drew closer to Gellert. As he did so, he realised that, ironically, Gellert was probably more dangerous than anything else in this forest. But at least Gellert was human and friendly, and familiar, and beautiful.
"Why are we here, Gellert?" Albus whispered. "I don't like this place. I want to go home. Let's Disapparate."
"If you leave now, you will always be wondering what you missed out," Gellert said. "There is something here you should see. You were bored in Godric's Hollow with nothing to do except write papers. You are a great wizard. You should be exploring the world, using your powers, pushing the study of magic to its limit, no? You were not made for paper spells or for babysitting children. I can see that you are a caged tiger. They have tamed you, taken away your fangs and your claws, taught you to behave well and be obedient. But inside you sleeps raw power, waiting to come out. You were made for the true magic, old and raw and dangerous. Well, in this forest you will see some things that will open your eyes."
Open your eyes. 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. A holy tree, standing in a grove. From its branches, a corpse hanging by a rope, its throat opened, its blood spilling out. No. No, I don't want that.
"You are the serpent," Albus whispered. "And I am your Eve."
"Why do you call me that?"
"You don't understand. You've never read the Christian Bible."
"Why do you know so many quotes from it? Your family is Magian, I thought."
"Yes. But when I was a child, my father told me that my great-grandmother was a Christian. And when I looked through her old belongings, I found a copy of her bible, and I read the whole thing cover to cover."
Dead leaves crunched under their feet as they trekked deeper and deeper into the wood. They were enveloped in darkness now. The branches meeting overhead blotted out the light of the moon and stars. The clearing had been left far behind. Outside the circle of light cast by their wands, the night was pitch black. There could be anything lurking out there, but they wouldn't know until it was on top of them.
Fear was steadily rising in Albus' stomach, the tension stretching almost to breaking point. He wanted to flee, but he didn't want Gellert to think he was a coward. With a warm glow of pride, he remembered Gellert saying that he was a great wizard, meant for great things.
Do you actually believe him, fool? You heard the way he spoke to the girls in town. He doesn't care about people, he just says things to manipulate them. He uses people and when he's done with them, he throws them away.
Oh, Gellert, what beautiful eyes you have.
All the better to see you with, my dear.
Suddenly, Gellert came to halt. Albus was following so close behind that he collided with Gellert's back and stumbled. Gellert took hold of Albus' arm, steadying him.
"Someone is following us," said Gellert. "Or something. Stay close beside me." He slipped his hand into Albus' and began to walk again, pulling Albus along, forcing Albus to switch his wand to his left hand.
Gellert, what big hands you have.
All the better to hold you with.
"What do you mean?" Albus asked, on the verge of panic as Gellert tugged him along.
"Shh. If you must speak, whisper."
"Gellert, what's following us?"
"I do not know. But we will find out soon."
Gellert quickened the pace, and the two of them were half-running now, the foliage crunching under their feet. Wild fantasies of monsters and demons, werewolves and witches flickered in Albus' brain. His heart pounded so hard in his chest he thought it would explode.
"Let's Disapparate!" he hissed.
"No," Gellert said. "This wood is mine. And what is the worst that can happen? Do you fear death?"
"Yes! Don't you?"
"No. I fear nothing. If death wants me, let him come and try to take me."
"Gellert…"
"Have no fear. Just trust me." He flashed a grin at Albus. His teeth shone white in the wand-light.
Gellert, what big teeth you have.
All the better to eat you with, my dear.
They ran for half a minute more, before Gellert slowed and came to a stop. Albus was gasping, taking in big gulps of air, although he hated the air of this place. The thought of taking it into his body made him feel polluted, but he needed oxygen. There was a faint burning in his chest. He had never been athletic, even in school, and he'd spent the past few weeks indoors, studying for his exams or going over the arrangements for his mother's funeral…
"It's coming," Gellert said. "Keep your wand up."
They waited with wands drawn, in silence and surrounded by darkness.
"Ah," said Gellert. "I think this is a friend. But stay on guard, just in case."
More silence. Then a dim light appeared somewhere to Albus' left, brightening as it moved towards them. He heard a rustling noise, softer at first but growing steadily louder, the sound of feet crunching over dead leaves…
A girl came into view, striding through the tree trunks. She ignored Albus, heading straight for Gellert, coming to a standstill a few feet in front of him. She had straight brown hair that hung past her shoulders, a small, pretty face with large brown eyes. She stared at Gellert with a look of mad, desperate hope.
"Meister Gellert!" she breathed. She sank to her knees and crawled forward, her hands grasping at Gellert's feet. She began to speak very fast in German. Albus only knew a few German words, but he caught the girl repeatedly saying "Meister Gellert", "mein Herr" and another phrase, "Meister des Todes."
Why was the girl calling Gellert master, sir or lord? And unless Albus was mistaken, "Meister des Todes" meant "Master of Death." What could it mean? Nothing good, that was certain.
Gellert raised the girl to her feet, put his arms around her and gave her a long kiss on the mouth.
Albus lowered his eyes.
"Albus, this is Elke. She is a friend of mine from Durmstrang."
A very good friend, by the looks of it, thought Albus bitterly.
A/N:
em: Thanks! Keep reading, I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the story.
Enrika_Lovegood: Thank you for the kind words. I'll try not to disappoint.
KnightKat: You always have such lovely things to say, your reviews brighten my day. I'm touched by your words. When I was little I did think it would be cool to be an author, but when I grew older I realised that not many people can make a living from writing. So I decided to get a respectable day job and write for enjoyment on the side. Also, I can't take credit for the Magian gods because I'm mostly rewriting their myths and adding my own little twist to them in some places.