A/N: Just a drabble about a meeting between Dumbledore and Grindelwald after the Azkaban mass breakout.

Written for the IWSC Writing School Challenge Round 3

Prompt: "Oh, I may be on the side of the angels, but don't think for one second that I am one of them." - Sherlock

Theme: Making Dialogue Flow

School: Hogwarts

Position: Exchange 1

Word Count: 983(10% leeway)

Nurmengard Castle, Austria

A stone faced wizard, one of the guards of Nurmengard Prison, Austria, stiffly lifted his wand hand to wipe a bit of sweat which had gathered on his brow. He was promptly stunned by one of the other guards nearby who nodded at Dumbledore, who nodded back absentmindedly. This was standard procedure, even the slightest hint of non stipulated behaviour warranted the offender's stunning by one of the various other wardens.

They even wore reflecting shades to protect against any occlumency attacks, however unlikely. Alastor Moody would be proud.

Dumbledore was led along the black marble corridors to the single most heavily fortified prison cell in all of Europe. One flick of the old wizard's wand made the sentinel on duty overcome with an overwhelming compulsion to drink some hot black coffee.

He clicked his heels and left. Dumbledore sighed as he strode in effortlessly through the magical protections and closed the outer doors of the cell behind him.

A frail excuse of a wizard lay in front of him, propped up by the wall. His golden hair was a dirty yellow now and his blue eyes had lost the vitality in them that had shook the continent with its gaze once.

"Albus." The haggard man rasped. It was a simple emotionless word, but full of meaning nonetheless.

"Gellert."

Silence. Seconds ticked by slowly.

"Do... Do you have them?" Grindelwald said, almost pleading.

"I have two." Two of the Deathly Hallows.

A hint of light shone in the skeleton's eyes.

"Which ones?"

"The wand... and the stone." Dumbledore's voice was a bit disapproving, "Do you truly think that they are the only reason I would visit you?"

"Once upon a time you... you said-"

Dumbledore harshly cut him off, "Once upon a time we were... friends, Gellert. I have long since realised that the hallows are but a promise of power, and it does not bode well to chase empty promises and forget to live."

"But the hallows are real."

"They are as real as the tales we hear about them. But what is reality, if not the faith we have in it?" Dumbledore said with a soft smile.

"You are clearly senile, old friend." Gellert said coldly, "We were drawn towards the same goal of a better future for wizardkind. We were prepared to do what it would take. All it would take. For the Greater Good. We were powerful, Albus. We were -"

"We were young, Gellert." Dumbledore's tone had an odd sort of ringing finality to it, as if that was all he would consent to hear about this topic.

Grindelwald slowly tried to summon a veneer of his charm that had swayed millions. If he didn't convince Albus now, the future would be irreversibly destroyed.

"I still see the shining light of a better world in the distance." He forced himself to stand and met Dumbledore's twinkling blue eyes with full force, "It beckons to us. We can save the slowly crumbling world from its demise, Albus. All it would take is one more hallow to have Death firmly within our grasp." His voice broke towards the end, courtesy of years of not speaking to anyone but himself.

"Gellert... Gellert." Dumbledore shook his head sadly, as if chastising a schoolchild. "Death cannot be conquered, and it would be folly to ever try. Those who do are condemned to a lifeless existence, empty of any purpose save that of prolonging their sorrow."

It was startling how similar he had been to Voldemort. Even as Dumbledore spoke, he seemed to age a hundred more years. He had once tried to conquer death but had instead been consumed by it. Ariana's death was not an accident, it was the culmination of years of treading the wrong path, with the wrong purpose.

"It is our burden, I accept that." Said Grindelwald, "But we must endure... for the Greater Good."

For the Greater Good, the words struck like a knife to Dumbledore's heart.

"We must." Dumbledore removed his half moon spectacles to wipe a bit of moistness from his eyes, "I must. I am. I daresay I have sinned more than Voldemort. But this war must be won, no matter the cost. The suffering will not end with the war, it never does. My conscience will always weigh down my thoughts more than it did to Marty the Magicker, who drowned on dry land."

"You have changed, Albus Percival." Gellert said, "If not about the hallows, why come visit me now then? After our battle?"

Dumbledore's face darkened, "Voldemort has risen. The prisoners of Azkaban have been freed. Dementors roam the streets. I fear... I very much fear Voldemort will be coming for you soon. He will want the elder wand."

Gellert threw his head back and gave a short laugh, "I do not have it. Besides, Voldemort does not care for the hallows. He is above them."

Dumbledore frowned, "He will. He will take notice of them very soon. When he does, he will come for you."

Grindelwald gave another explosive laugh, "Let him come then. He will not get anything out of me. He cannot break my will. Death scares me no longer."

"I can help you." Said Dumbledore, "Come with me to Hogwarts. You will be safe."

Grindelwald spat a bit of bloody saliva at his feet. "Dementors would be preferable. I do not need your help anymore, Dumbledore." His voice was almost mocking in its hatred.

The old white-bearded wizard tried his best to avoid showing his hurt. For he was hurt, deeply, despite everything. He had offered to break Gellert out of prison, a crime which would send the entire Europe into a frenzy. And yet...

But in his heart he knew it would be more for himself than his old golden haired associate.

"So be it." Said Dumbledore, and left with his midnight blue robes bellowing behind him majestically.