Now the body not for fornication, but for the Lord; and the Lord for the body.
... he that commiteth fornication sinneth against his own body.
- 1 Corinthians
About three miles west of the clearing where they'd set up their picnic, the woods opened up into another glade watered by a gently flowing stream. Here the grass grew soft and lush, and deer were drawn from all over the hills to feast on the tender flowering plants that appeared in abundance, and slake their thirst with the fresh, icy waters of the river. Often when he was feeling low, Albus had shrouded himself with a Disillusionment Charm and sat in the shadow of the trees at the clearing's edge, watching the deer go about their daily business. It had filled him with a sense of peace to observe the grand saga of nature unfolding around him, unknowing and uncaring of the petty dramas of human civilisation.
Today, however, he was preoccupied with thoughts of Gellert. It had been almost fifteen minutes since he'd left Gellert alone in the forest. As he'd walked through the woods, he'd tried not to think about what had happened, tried to recapture the feeling of contentment usually inspired in him by the sight of the trees stretching out their slender limbs in the wind, their vivid green leaves quivering. Yet his mind kept replaying the same thoughts again and again, agitating itself without respite.
Gellert had been furious with him, and now Albus understood why. "Make up your fucking mind, Albus," Gellert had said. Albus did feel a powerful attraction to Gellert, unlike anything he had ever felt before in his life. Yet every time Gellert tried to be intimate with him, Albus pulled away. What was wrong with him?
Whenever Gellert touched him, it filled him with sensations both alien and achingly familiar. He had never been touched like that before, never known the gentle caress of another's hands. Yet it resonated with him on the deepest level, this wonderful magic of Gellert's, every cell of his body singing in response to the blond boy's touch, as though this passion was something he had always known but had simply forgotten, like a childhood nursery rhyme lost for years until memory was rekindled by a chance encounter.
Albus had spent nearly his entire life in small country villages, first Mould-on-the-Wold, and later Godric's Hollow. As a result, he had never received much in the way of sex education before going to school at the age of eleven. There were no dirty magazines in Godric's Hollow, no erotic novels, no seedy nightclubs, no means of learning about the mysterious, alluring, adult world of carnal relations.
True, there were a large number of farms in the village, and it was obvious to any observant child that each year's fresh crop of squealing piglets, big-eyed calves and gambolling lambs was the direct result of the energetic activities of the preceding breeding season. But how little insight the frenzied rutting of bulls and cows offered into the complex entanglements of human love and sexuality!
All Albus had learnt on this subject as a child, he had pieced together from fragments gleaned from his parents, other children and reading materials. Other children, in particular, were rich seams of information, but the things they said were so bizarre that he wouldn't believe them until he could confirm them by other sources. His parents, learned and literate, were only too happy to answer his questions on most topics, but when it came to this particular subject they averted their eyes and gave him half-formed answers, until he realised that they were too embarrassed to be of any help.
It was generally known to the children of the village that boys had willies and girls didn't, that boys liked flying around, duelling and playing Quidditch, while girls liked enchanted dolls and playing dress-up, that boys and girls hated each other until they reached a terrifying age called puberty, at which they transformed into love-struck monsters who couldn't get enough of each other, and who went on mysterious outings called "dates", and did pointless things like walking around while holding each other's hands, giggling, and giving each other flowers and chocolates.
Soon after, their parents or the parish priest would give them a talk involving cryptic phrases such as "being careful", "the birds and the bees", "the miracle of life" and "the family way". One thing would lead to another, and sooner or later the young men and women would find themselves married to each other, and that was that. Sometimes the talk would fail to have the desired effect, and a young couple would find themselves rushed into a wedding, or else a girl would be sent off to stay with a distant aunt, and the adults of the village would mutter darkly and shake their heads at the things young people got up to these days, conveniently forgetting that they'd gotten up to the same things in their own youth.
That was the scope of most children's sex education in Godric's Hollow. It was a small, simple village with practical people who were quite content with their lot in life, and who didn't ask too many questions, knowing instinctively that questions led to unnecessary complications. The boys in Godric's Hollow would grow up to be farmers, woodcutters or merchants like their fathers. The girls would grow up to be seamstresses, nannies or washerwomen like their mothers. The average villager was capable of only very simple magic, enough to enchant an axe to chop wood, or to levitate a basket of laundry.
And into this small, sleepy village had come the Dumbledores, a family blessed (or perhaps cursed) by whatever gods existed with too much magical power, and not enough wisdom to restrain it. They were not the first, of course. Godric's Hollow had a long tradition of producing exceptional wizards. It had been home to Godric Gryffindor and at least one Peverell brother, among others, but that hadn't made life for the new arrivals any easier, especially given Kendra Dumbledore's pride and her daughter Ariana's unfortunate illness.
Albus had known from a very young age that he was not like the other children in his village. He was more interested in sitting quietly with his books and learning about the fabric of the universe than in playing Quidditch or milking cows. And when he started manifesting his prodigious magical powers, it stood to reason that he would have to be sent to Hogwarts, the premiere school of magic in the country. Of course, Kendra Dumbledore had planned for Albus to attend Hogwarts from the very beginning, for she was determined that her firstborn and most promising son should have every opportunity to distinguish himself and uphold the family honour, a fact that only confirmed in the minds of the villagers that the Dumbledores were snobs who put on airs and refused to associate with anyone they considered beneath their station.
How miserable Albus had been as a child in Godric's Hollow. A few of the villagers, being superstitious country folk, had looked on him askance and called him a queer child. Sometimes they would even blame a poor harvest or a bad winter on his newly developing powers. It was well known that his father was in Azkaban, but who knew if that was even his real father? They said the boy's mother was strange, and it was known that there were dark eldritch things in the forest that mated with human women and produced changelings or halflings. Perhaps that was why the boy wasn't like other children his age. Perhaps that was why he had such powerful magic and spent all his time reading books, speaking to animals and running in the forest. Perhaps that was why he spent his nights gazing up at the stars, and knew more words than people thrice his age.
"Look at that Dumbledore boy," they would say, whenever Albus walked by. "He always has his head buried in some book or another. He thinks he's too high and mighty to be playin' with the other children. That's his mother's doin', fillin' his head with notions of how grand his family is. It ain't healthy for a child to be readin' so much. It fills their head with funny ideas, turns them queer. Great big books he reads, too, with odd titles (like The Alchemical Properties of Dragonnes Bloode; A Guide to Plants and Animals of the English Countryside; British Architecture, Modern and Ancient; Fundamentals of Magickale Philosophie: Theoretical and Experimental; and Transactions of the Royal Academy of Magickale Philosophie: Lectures, of the Year Eighteen Hundred and Ninety Two).You can't tell me it's good for a child, readin' all them big words. It's not natural. It'll send him mad, so it will. His mother says he's a genius, but genius is right next to madness."
In fact, Albus wasn't a changeling, nor was he mentally disturbed. He was just a lonely young lad with a fierce intellect, a wonderful imagination, a sensitive personality and a talent for magic. Perhaps if he'd grown up in a more nurturing environment, perhaps if there had been someone to support him and advise him, perhaps if his father had been in his life, things would have turned out differently. As it happened, his only family members were a heartbroken and preoccupied mother, an angry brother and an ill sister. His brilliance only served to isolate him from others. Instead of blossoming into a vibrant, passionate wizard, he became withdrawn and reserved, his intense feelings turning inwards and burying themselves deep within his psyche.
Albus betrayed no hint of the loneliness inside him to anyone else. It would have been selfish of him to trouble his mother with something so silly. She had enough to worry about with Ariana's illness and trying to make ends meet. Albus was the eldest. It was his responsibility to deal with things on his own.
When he finally arrived at Hogwarts, it seemed that his life had taken a turn for the better. His quick wit and pleasant personality made him popular with teachers and students alike, while his natural aptitude for schoolwork gave him a sense of pride and accomplishment that had been lacking in his earlier years. In a short span of time he had won a number of prestigious academic prizes and established himself as the top of the form, and most importantly of all, he had acquired friends and admirers. "Good old Albus," people would say, patting him on the back. "He knows more than half the teachers here!" It seemed to the young Albus that he had finally found a place where he belonged, and it was with a certain amount of regret that he left Hogwarts to return to Godric's Hollow whenever the holidays came around.
Even in Godric's Hollow, things were improving. Albus' newfound confidence and pride in his abilities made him friendlier and more outgoing, which brought out the best in his personality and eventually won over the people of the village.
"Ah, there goes Albus. I hear he won some big prize for spellcastin' this year. Not too bad for a boy from Godric's Hollow. He's the top student at Hogwarts, and not a bit conceited, too. Always has time to stop and chat to me, polite as you like. Mind you, I always knew he'd go far. Even as a wee lad he always had his head buried in some fancy book or the other."
"Say what you like about Kendra Dumbledore, but she can't be as bad as all that, if she managed to bring up a boy like that Albus. My broomstick's been on the blink for years, but he took one look at it and patched up the Brakin' Charm, quick as anythin'. Never asked for any payment, neither. If I'd taken it down to the garage in Diagon Alley, they would have charged me ten Galleons just to look at it, and wouldn't have fixed it, the thievin' buggers."
The happiest moments of young Albus' life were coming home to his mother with the awards he had won in school. She would hold them reverently, examining them from every angle, before putting them up on the mantelpiece, where they would proclaim to the few visitors who came into their lounge room what Kendra Dumbledore had always known: her son Albus was destined for great things. In those moments of pride, Albus' mother looked almost like her old self again. Her dark eyes sparkled with warmth, and as she smiled, the lines of grief and premature age were smoothed from her face, making her seem years younger. It pleased Albus to know that he could bring a little pleasure to his mother's life after everything had been taken from her.
But these happy days were not to last, for Albus was now at the age of puberty, and with it came more than the usual share of turmoil and confusion. Albus was soon to discover that he was different to other boys his age, and this difference would rob him of his newfound confidence and make him more isolated than ever.
For Albus was a homosexual.
The realisation was a slow one, in part because the whole subject of sexuality made Albus deeply uncomfortable. His conservative upbringing in a country village made him even more repressed than the average person of his social class, and as a result he had a strong conviction that sex was something dirty, sordid and shameful.
He still remembered the first time he had learnt about the sex act. Not trusting the outlandish tales of his peers, he had done as he usually did and consulted a book, in this case The Encyclopaedia of the Human Body. This dusty volume had sat on a bookshelf in the Hogwarts library, untouched by generations of students who, foolishly judging it by its plain cover, remained unaware of the wicked obscenities it contained. Picking up the book one day out of curiosity, Albus had idly glanced through the table of contents and noted a section entitled The Reproductive System. Upon turning to the first page of that chapter, he had been confronted by a two page full colour spread of the male and female reproductive organs, complete with meticulous labels and enchanted moving parts.
Blushing furiously, Albus had slammed the book shut and quickly looked around to make sure that no one had caught him reading this perverted material. Immediately, he returned the book to its place on the shelf and determined not to touch it again. Somehow, however, the images he had seen had impressed themselves quite firmly on his mind, and as the days went by he found himself possessed of a strong desire to read the rest of the chapter. Eventually the urge grew too strong, and he began making furtive trips to the library, in which he would pick up The Encyclopaedia of the Human Body, conceal it within a pile of several innocuous books on Potions and Charms, and sneak it into a quiet corner of the library for some private study. In this manner, Albus learnt about the wonders of the human reproductive system for the first time. (He would never dream of actually taking the book out of the library, because he was terrified of the librarian asking him questions, or someone finding the book in his dormitory and exposing him as a nasty, dirty little boy. What if someone told his mother? It didn't bear thinking about.)
The book's author, one Professor Reginald Winthrop, was an enlightened and modern-thinking man who had little time for old-fashioned pruderies surrounding the human body. He seemed to consider the body a fascinating object of study rather than a source of shame and embarrassment, an attitude which Albus found strange, yet remarkably refreshing. Professor Winthrop had compiled and presented a great quantity of information on human reproduction in a factual way, illustrated with diagrams and copious notes, with a view to educating young people about parts of their bodies which would no doubt be of great interest and importance to them for many years to come.
Thus Albus learnt that during puberty, male and female bodies began to change and develop in different ways. In males, the testes descended from the body into the scrotum and began to secrete large quantities of androgens such as testosterone, which caused physical changes known as secondary sexual characteristics, including increased musculature, broader shoulders, a thickened larynx resulting in a deeper voice, growth of facial hair and increased abundance of overall body hair. In females, the ovaries began to secrete hormones such as oestrogen, which triggered the development of breast tissue, broader hips in preparation for childbirth, menstruation, and increased body hair (particularly in the axillary and pubic regions, but overall less than males).
Albus read, too, about the specialised structure and functions of each reproductive organ. He learnt that the testes produced sperm, which travelled through the vas deferens and mingled with other fluids produced by the prostate gland and seminal vesicles to create a liquid known as semen. When the male was sexually aroused, the erectile tissues in the penis became engorged with blood, allowing the semen to flow through the urethra and be ejaculated from the penis at the moment of orgasm.
Although less interested in the female reproductive system, Albus studied it for the sake of completeness. He learnt that each month, the ovaries released an egg, which travelled along a Fallopian tube to implant itself in the lining of the uterus, which had become thickened in anticipation. At this point, the female might engage in sexual intercourse. If semen were introduced to her vagina (generally via a penis), the sperm would travel to the egg and fertilise it, resulting in the conception of a zygote. If the egg remained unfertilised, it would eventually be flushed from the uterus along with its lining, resulting in periodic monthly bleeding.
Despite his initial strong feelings that this was not the sort of material that good boys should be reading, Albus found it deeply interesting to learn of these things. He'd always had a powerful intellectual curiosity, and on this subject his questions had never been answered satisfactorily. Professor Winthrop treated the whole matter of sex as just another area of learning like Herbology or Charms, and for the first time, Albus realised that the mysterious, exotic world of fornication could be reduced to academic terms that he could easily understand and be comfortable with.
There were two things, however, that Professor Winthrop could not help Albus with.
The first was the sex act itself. It didn't take long for Albus to grasp the mechanics of it, but the full implications took him longer to appreciate. To be honest, he couldn't see why any man and woman would want to do that in the first place, because it seemed unhygienic and a serious invasion of personal space, but he supposed that they had to do it if they wanted children. Yet, why did the act of sexual intercourse have to be something so… so… primitive and uncivilised? When the gods were designing the human body, why did they decide that Man, the only creature to be made in the image of Heaven, lofty in intellect, noble and virtuous in character, like the angels in word and deed… that this work of art, this grand species called the human being should, in the act of lovemaking, be reduced to the filthy, brutish lusts of the lower animals, becoming like the yowling tomcat, the bitch in heat, the grunting, lecherous hog? What a disgrace!
And to think… oh, gods! That his own parents must have engaged in this activity! His gentle, kind father and his proper, stern mother must have actually… no. No, he wouldn't think of it, he couldn't. Hold on, there were three children in his family… Albus, Aberforth and Ariana… which meant that his parents must have committed such acts not once, not twice… but three times! Gods have mercy!
Albus' memories of his father included a vague impression of twinkling blue eyes, large, rough hands and a deep voice carefully explaining something or the other. Memories of his mother were much clearer and included the smell of soap and perfume, the tinkle of her jewellery, her dark expressive eyes, and her controlled, precise voice as she reminded him to mind his manners. He briefly tried to reconcile the image of his two parents with the garish anatomical illustrations in the book before him, but it just wouldn't fit, and he had to stop before his brain exploded.
Not only his parents, but everyone who had children, or was married… all the adults in his village, his aunts and uncles, even the teachers at Hogwarts, they all knew about this! Beneath their prim and proper exteriors, their polished manners and their innocent ways, they had been hiding this bestial truth from him the whole time. What else was there that he didn't know about?
That was Albus' first problem. The second was that Professor Winthrop made it clear that sex was something that took place between men and women. But Albus didn't like girls, not in that way. He liked boys instead.
As he'd grown up at Hogwarts, many of his friends had begun dating each other. He'd witnessed firsthand the excitement his male friends felt in female company. Yet Albus himself felt no special thrill at the thought of romance with the girls in his school. Several of them had expressed interest in him, but Albus had buried himself in his studies and used them to deflect suspicion from his unusual lack of interest in the opposite sex. "Albus likes books more than girls," was the consensus of his peers. "Albus likes books and boys more than girls," would have been more accurate.
It quickly became clear to Albus that he was not like most other boys, and this difference was something that he would have to keep secret. People like him were spoken of only in whispers, if at all, and nothing good was ever said. Many a time Albus had wished to be normal, to be just like the other boys in his school. How much easier his life could have been, if he had been just like them. He had often wondered why the gods had made him this way, marking him out for a life of pain and loneliness, only to conclude that they held a special grudge against him, perhaps because of something he or one of his ancestors had done.
In order to distract himself from his budding desires, Albus threw himself into his academic endeavours. He would not allow himself to feel anything contrary to what was decent and proper. He would deny himself the pleasures of the flesh and subdue all his feelings of attraction. Each day, when he was tempted to wayward thoughts, he would remind himself that the whole affair of sex was something dirty, unsavoury and unpleasant, and he would lie to himself that he was better off without romance or love at all. It was a credit to the young Albus' willpower that he would take such a decision and go through with it, all of his own accord. Although he kept up a happy demeanour, on the inside Albus was torn, lonely and tormented by his own sadness and frustration. Yet he had resigned himself to being alone.
And then Gellert had come, and everything had changed.
Now Albus was struggling with feelings he thought had been buried years ago. Even admitting to himself that he was attracted to Gellert went against years of self-imposed conditioning. And always Gellert was rushing him, pushing him, trying to make him go further. Couldn't Gellert see that Albus was trying to go as fast and as far as he could?
Perhaps Gellert assumed that because Albus was his equal in magic, therefore Albus must be his equal in other areas as well. Perhaps if Gellert knew that in matters of the heart, Albus had no experience and was practically a child, Gellert would be a little more patient and gentle with him. Or perhaps not, because there didn't seem to be much patience or gentleness in Gellert's nature from what Albus had seen so far.
It was true Albus wanted Gellert, more than anything. There was a deep hunger within him than only Gellert could fill. But another part of Albus was afraid. What exactly he was afraid of, Albus could not say. It was partly that he was frightened of being close to another person, of intimacy, of being vulnerable. He had spent his whole life hiding and lying to himself in order to protect himself from being hurt. Now, Gellert was asking him to put an end to all that. The thought of being naked with Gellert terrified Albus. Albus didn't like being in situations where he had no sense of control. Gellert had all the power, all the experience in their relationship. Albus would have to surrender himself totally, and he wasn't sure he trusted anyone enough to do that. Especially not Gellert.
What was the alternative? A life of bitter regret and loneliness? Perhaps it was better to be wounded in love than to live behind a wall of solitude. Perhaps, perhaps… Albus didn't know. But it was time he made up his fucking mind, as Gellert said.
Albus would do it. He would do it slowly, and in his own time, but he wouldn't run away from Gellert again. He wanted to know what love was, and he wanted Gellert to be the one to show him. He would tell Gellert the next time he saw him.
He slowed his pace and quieted his footsteps as he drew close to the deer spotting grounds, not wanting to startle them. As he stood in the shadow of the trees, he heard someone walking some distance behind him.
He turned and waited for Gellert to appear.
Author's Note:
Happy New Year!
Sorry for the late update and the short chapter with no action. I've been very busy lately, with hardly any time to write. Also writer's block.
Next update: I almost don't want to give a date, because I hate to disappoint, but I'll say Wed 11 Jan. Caveat: it may be a few days late.
ThisLittlePiggyStayedHome: If I met Gellert in real life, I would punch him too. But then he would kill me slowly and painfully. Thanks for commenting.
KnightKat: Aww, thanks. I try to update as frequently as possible, but life keeps getting in the way of writing. I think Albus is cute too, but repressed. Which is bad news for smut-loving readers like you.
Mystic Eye Girl: Thank you for the compliment. I'm sure there must be some good fics out there, but I haven't actually read any other Gel/Alb fics, partly because I wanted to write my own idea without being influenced by others.
Em: Thank you for caring! I think my family problems are settling down a bit. You're most welcome, I'm just glad you're enjoying the story so much. And I was very happy to know that you weren't bored for one moment while reading it.
MikkaAmaya: I appreciate the kind comments. I'll say a couple of things in reply to the concrit you gave.
Regarding Gellert, I may have overpowered him a bit for his age, but I do think it's mostly justified. Harry was only 17 when he fought Death Eaters and killed Voldemort, while Griselda Marchbanks said that Albus "Did things with a wand I'd never seen before," in his NEWT exams, when he was 17. I think that proves that wizards who are prodigies are capable of great feats of magic at young ages. I agree with you that Grindelwald was less powerful than Albus, but I believe he was in the same exceptional league. He was described as the Dark wizard second only to Voldemort, and it's hinted that he took over much of Europe and might have succeeded in his plans if Albus hadn't personally defeated him.
Regarding Albus' character, I will watch him, but this isn't one of my strong points. I tend to put a lot of AU, and sometimes OOC in my stories, but in this particular fic I've stuck pretty close to canon. Personally I don't think that canon gives us a strong sense of what Albus was like at 17. We mostly know him as wise old Dumbledore, when he's had a hundred years of growth and experience to mould him. When I think of how much I've changed in the last five or ten years, I think young Albus could have been very different, so I'm treating him as a bit of a blank canvas, but I'll try not to go overboard.
Thanks again, and I hope you keep reading.