A/N: Yesterday, collegehumor posted an article called "JK Rowling's Twitter Is Out of Control." I would recommend you read it. Um. The 4th one got me for a second. *clears throat* Just go read it. Let's pretend all of them are real.
I don't know if you guys know a lot about the Holocaust, but I have immersed myself in it while writing this arc. I have watched World War II stuff every day since I started writing this arc three chapters ago. The history I weaved in here is accurate (unfortunately), except I have not the faintest idea where Hitler visited in his final couple months alive (and I'm not sure if we even know for sure). I've heard he never visited a concentration camp, but... I chose Dachau because it was the only concentration camp that stood for the entirety of the Third Reich. It was not liberated until April 1945. It was more horrible than I can put in words.
This contains the duel. I think. IDK, I'm still writing it. This is already twice as long as I thought it would be. If it's not this one, it's the next one. I feel like you guys would rather read about Dumbledore and Harry v. Dumbledore and Grindelwald. I may, may, may be doing a Harry and Dumbledore fic after this that breaks off of canon. Don't know. In this story, nothing contradicts canon at all - a lot of it may seem very unlikely to lots of you, but JK Rowling has never said it didn't happen this way. The new fic would be different.
Are you guys bored with Albus/Gellert? I feel like I didn't get as many reviews this time around...
You probably won't have seen this coming.
mangoarcher1802 - Ah, I thought you gave up on this fic a long time ago! Sorry it's taken me so long to update this one. It's been very difficult to write.
Muggzy - Thank you! My interpretation is about to go off the deep end here, but JK Rowling never said it didn't happen this way... *mad cackling*
Red Furry Demon - Oh, it took Albus days to write that letter. He went through many drafts. I'm glad you like my characterization of Gellert because I think my interpretation of Gellert is the most deranged character I've ever written. He is funny yet so evil. And no, it's not bad you found that bit funny... it's not real, so it's cool. :P There's probably stuff in this chapter you might find funny too... at least Gellert thinks he's hilarious here.
BrigidSparks - Let me tell you, I've never understood why the Wizarding world still uses quills... To me, it just kind of shows that they are so unbelievably prejudiced that they won't admit to or use better Muggle inventions. I think Gellert's different than that. He still thinks they're inferior, but when they do produce something good, I think he would say so.
"Blessed be God's name? Why, but why would I bless Him? Every fiber in me rebelled. Because He caused thousands of children to burn in His mass graves? Because He kept six crematoria working day and night, including Sabbath and the Holy Days? Because in His great might, He had created Auschwitz, Birkenau, Buna, and so many other factories of death? ... I was the accuser, God the accused."
- Night, Elie Wiesel
"Some people believe that the reports of what happened there have been exaggerated. No words could exaggerate what we saw and what we know. The reality was indescribably worse than these pictures. You cannot photograph suffering, only its results. In pictures, you have no smell of disease and death. There are eighteen of these German concentration camps. Dead and the living dead. I saw scores of these living skeletons. Let no one say these things were never real."
- Mavis Tate, Member of Parliament
1945
Albus had never felt so nervous in his entire life. Actually, 'nervous' was not the right word; he was nothing short of terrified. He was not terrified so much for himself personally as he was for the rest of the world. He knew fully that if he did not pull this off, it was unlikely anyone else would be able to stop Gellert Grindelwald.
It had been nearly forty-six years since he last saw him. They had been just teenagers. Albus still did not know which of them had cast the curse that killed Ariana, and he did not even want to find out, if Gellert knew himself.
You have to stop thinking of him as Gellert, he told himself mentally for the thousandth time. He's Grindelwald, and he's partially (at best) responsible for the deaths of thousands - millions. Grindelwald. You aren't adolescent boys anymore.
Albus hadn't really thought about God much in all his years. He was middle-aged as far as the Wizarding world goes, but not once since Ariana's death had he really stopped and thought about God and the afterlife and such. It wasn't that he did not believe; it was just that he did not know. Quite honestly, he did not even like to question it. It made him uncomfortable. If there was a God, he was quite certain God was nothing short of a monster. Life was too unjust for there to be a benevolent God. Yet now, as he faced what might be the end of his life, he could not resist the urge to think about what it would be like to have a discussion with God. What should I do? How will this end? Am I going to heaven or hell? Where have you been? Where were you? Why won't you speak?
He couldn't think about it too much. Gell- Grindelwald - was in Germany. Upper Bavaria. Albus knew this much. Ever heard of Dachau? Grindelwald had written. Albus admitted he hadn't. He then told Albus that it was a concentration camp. Of course, Albus knew about the concentration camps from the newspapers, but many dismissed what was said happened there as exaggerations - or even outright lies altogether. No one knew for sure except for the Nazis what was going on in these concentration camps. Some even said there was no proof of any Holocaust whatsoever.
It is actually a very fine camp - compared to others. Come and see it, Grindelwald wrote. Not today. Tomorrow morning. Seven in the morning, my time. Then you can decide whether or not you want to join me. If you so much as try anything, or even make any sudden movements that I find threatening, I will not hesitate to kill you.
So, trembling with fear, Albus vowed to Apparate to Dachau, Bavaria, Germany at seven o'clock in the morning. He could not sleep that night because he could not get Gellert Grindelwald out of his head. He dozed at best, not truly asleep, his thoughts racing in a twilight state.
The first thing Albus noticed was the scent. It was unlike anything he had ever smelled before. It smelled like something was burning, but it was not wood. There were white buildings with brown tiles around him. What appeared to be the entrance was a white building with red tiles. At the center of the entrance, framed within the cement, was a metal gate. Some words in German were framed on the metal gate, but he did not look closely enough to make them out. There were small trees planted in rows. All around him was electric wiring and strange tall buildings with triangles at the top. Whatever this place was, it was massive. He was so busy trying to explain this strange scent that he did not immediately notice the medium-blue eyes that were surveying him closely along the left of the building.
Subconsciously, he looked behind him at the triangular buildings, which happened to be the watchtowers, though he did not yet know that. His grip tightened around his wand, his palms sweaty. He knew he looked extraordinarily out of place but still, no one seemed to care. When no one made any move to stop him, he proceeded toward the metal gate.
Arbeit Macht Frei, were the words on the metal door. Work Brings Freedom was the translation. But just as Albus got closer to it, the metal frame changed. Transfixed, he watched as the metal rearranged itself into für das größere Wohl. For the Greater Good. Then the metal gate sprang open so fast for him that it made him jump.
"It's impressive, isn't it?" said a voice he recognized to his left.
Albus snapped his neck in direction of the voice. Gellert Grindelwald was looking right at him from ten feet away, his expression passive. Two other men stood by his side. Time had done nothing but good for Gellert. He was undoubtedly older than the last time Albus had seen him, but he still had the same handsome face and cool demeanor. Some men aged in an attractive way, and he was definitely one of them, and Albus hated him for it. He still talked to Albus in that same flawless British accent that was not truly his. He looked more mature, maybe a little tired. He was also smoking a cigarette, something that looked completely odd, as only Muggles smoked. He was also, just as bizarrely, wearing not a swastika around his arm, but the sign of the Deathly Hallows. He looked absolutely ridiculous, yet still attractive.
"You're the only other person in the world who knows it does that," Gellert continued. "You're the only other wizard ever to see it, that I know of, anyway, just as you are the only one who sees the Deathly Hallows and not a swastika. As if I'm going to wear the sign of another man's campaign on me. Don't worry, the men standing beside me are idiots who only speak one language: their native tongue. They have no idea what I'm saying. Yet even if they did, it wouldn't matter. They're going to know about the Wizarding world eventually anyway. Maybe six months. Maybe a year."
Albus continued to stare at him, feeling lightheaded. He resisted the urge to raise his wand and try to take Gellert's straightaway. Gellert's posture was casual, but Albus knew he would be able to draw his Elder Wand in an instant. What was the Muggle expression? Don't bring a knife to a gun fight or something? Well, all Albus had was a knife, and if Gellert really had the Elder Wand, he was the only one with a gun here.
"I kept up on your speeches throughout the years," Gellert said with a scowl. "I am not impressed. You were always a bleeding heart for the damn Muggles. Do you want to try to kill me? I'll let you try now, if you want."
"I don't want to kill you," said Albus thickly.
"We'll see. Anyway, if you want to join me -"
"I do," said Albus immediately.
"Save your verdict for now," said Gellert smoothly. "You haven't been inside yet. I'll give you a bit of a tour, shall I? Tell you all about Hitler and the Holocaust and what truly happens in Nazi Germany." He dropped the cigarette and stamped on it before turning to the gate.
"Die Züge werden bald hier sein," said one of the other men suddenly.
Gellert looked at him in disdain. "Well, go then," he said in German. "You know what to do. Go get ready for the train, then. You do not need me holding your hand, do you?"
The two other men exchanged a glance before walking through the gate and setting off to the left.
"Why were you smoking a cigarette like a Muggle?" asked Albus.
"Because it makes me look good, of course," Gellert replied in that same cool tone. Albus knew him well enough to pick up on the slight humor in his voice. "Now, come on. This is your official tour."
Albus would have thought it would have been awkward to set off on foot with Gellert Grindelwald around a concentration camp, but in reality, it was not, for Gellert, ever the extrovert, talked the entire time as if there was not forty-six years of silence separating them. Awkward was not at all the right word to describe it. That would would have to be horrifying.
"So this is Dachau. It's the oldest concentration camp. All other of our concentration camps have been recreated under this one's model. Over sixty-five thousand are currently here. What do you think happens in concentration camps, anyway?"
"Manual labor."
"Correct," said Gellert. "Labor. Hard labor, but don't feel bad for them. Dachau served as a model for all the other concentration camps. There's more than just labor happening here though. Hitler uses them to kill off the Muggles he wants dead. According to the Nazis though, it's only purpose is to weed out the weak and use the strong for work. That is complete nonsense though. It's to kill them off. The lucky ones are killed right away. Those that can be used for work are, in short, worked to death. Make no mistake, the Nazis are a bunch of sadistic bastards. I think they like seeing them in pain, but they will swear up and down these concentration camps are for work, not death. They also don't ever take personal responsibility for what goes on here. It's all about taking orders to them. They'll tell you they're just following orders. They would all jump off a cliff in a moment if Hitler tells them to. I think it is honestly because they are not intellectually capable of doing otherwise."
He was trying to both hear Gellert and take in his surroundings, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. He saw barracks ahead - many, many buildings, and he could see people milling around, but these people did not look like ordinary people.
"Don't mind the Muggles," continued Gellert. "They'll stay far away from us. They're afraid of me. You're in luck though - there's going to be a train coming in in forty minutes, like you heard. It brings fresh blood in here. There's always some dead in the train cars, but most of them will be alive, usually. We'll sort them out and divide them into their proper categories. There might be some executions. I don't really know. This place is run by the Nazis. I'm just here for the show. Hitler is effective at lightening the Muggle load."
They were getting closer. Albus felt the blood drain from his face. His feet were marching on numbly, and he was aware that Gellert was still talking, but he did not know what was being said anymore.
The people were walking skeletons - all skin and bone. They skirted away from Gellert when they saw him. Some of them were lying motionless on the ground. It was unclear which were dead and which were still alive.
"They work hard at first," Gellert was saying. "Maybe they believe the words on the gate. They learn pretty quickly though. Hard work brings you nothing but a faster death here. They aren't fed nearly enough to keep up the energy needed to work."
Albus found himself actually shaking after one woman - he thought it was a woman - made eye contact with him before scuttling away.
Nothing could have prepared him for this. He had to pretend...
"Do you -" said Albus as calmly as he could (he had to stay calm), "do you have those - those crematoria here?"
"We do," replied Gellert. "We don't put them in there alive though here or anything, only dead. Or, at least, the last time I checked. Ashes take up a lot less space than bodies." He jerked his thumb to the right, and Albus saw a column of black smoke. "Didn't you notice the strange burning smell? You get used to it quickly, but it is a peculiar scent at first."
"I - I did... but you said in the interviews that you didn't have a single crematorium."
Gellert shrugged. "Hitler wants it hushed. The whole world probably knows now though. Auschwitz was liberated a little over a month ago, as you have probably heard."
Albus tried to remember everything else he had heard about concentration camps. "And do you have the gas chambers?"
"Oh, certainly," said Gellert. "The vast majority of the time, the new arrivals don't know about the gas chambers though. They think they are going in to take a shower. Clean them up to minimize disease, you can imagine the ruse. We even have fake shower heads to throw them off. Hitler uses something called hydrogen cyanide or prussic acid that they use to kill them. It isn't pretty, but I'm sure you can imagine why we kill them that way."
Albus thought of the most horrible response he could think of. "Because they aren't worth the bullets to kill them."
"Oh, that's a very good answer," said Gellert, nodding. "I asked Hitler once, but I like your answer better than his. He said that the men killing people by using guns were complaining about mental stress. No one wants to have to shoot people all day long, I guess; it's very wearing. Better to just throw them in a room, gas them, and wait. Then send in the next batch. We do shoot some at times though. They like the gas chambers however- they call it euthanasia. As many as six thousand were gassed every day in Auschwitz. But like I said, the lucky ones go to the gas chambers. It is quite barbaric though."
"Are there... those gas chambers here?"
"Oh, they're here," said Gellert. "We don't use them often though, only very sparingly. Like I said, this is a fine camp."
A little sound escaped Albus' throat. Gellert looked sideways at him.
"You don't feel bad for them, do you?" asked Gellert. "I mean, you are someone who six months ago was fighting for equal rights for Muggles."
"I thought that by treating them as equals, they would rise to the occasion," he replied in a small voice.
"Not possible," said Gellert brusquely. "You can try to teach a dog manners, but he'll never learn. Not intellectually capable. All they think about is themselves."
"I know you're right. I just wish you weren't."
"This is about final solutions," continued Gellert. "Hitler wants the inferior Muggles gone so he won't have to deal with them anymore - not now, not ever. I know it doesn't look pretty, but it really will be the best thing in the end. Believe me, I am not supportive of everything Hitler and the Nazis do, but it is all about the greater good, in the end. The world will be a better place when all is said and done. But trust me, the end of the Muggle war is near. I don't think it will be long before Hitler realizes it's all over. As for me - maybe us - we have Nurmengard."
Albus didn't dare ask what Nurmengard was. He didn't think he wanted to know.
"Unfortunately, Hitler isn't having disabled people killed as much as he did at the start of the war," continued Gellert. "The disabled are worthless to the rest of humanity. That's why I originally wanted to join him in the first place. I mean really, what am I going to do with thousands or millions of disabled people? How am I going to fit them into a functional society? They are an expense. Hitler authorized the euthanasia in 1939, but people protested. The Nazi party received a lot of criticism for it. In the summer of 1941, Hitler called for the official end of the program, but they still kill disabled people today, merely not as many. I want to restart the program eventually, once Hitler is no longer useful. Do you know how many disabled people we've killed so far?"
"No," replied Albus, his jaw tense with anger.
"Around 200,000," said Gellert. "Impressive number, but not nearly enough."
"Ariana was disabled." He had said it without meaning to. He couldn't keep it in.
Gellert glanced at him very seriously.
"Albus, Ariana was not disabled through birth," he explained calmly. "She was disabled because of what those Muggles did to her. It's different. She was not born inferior - she was made inferior by a imperfect social system. If I was in charge, there would have been no Muggles attacking a Witch or Wizard - ever. It would not have happened..."
He heard a train's whistle in the background. Gellert lifted his head.
"Sounds like the new arrivals are here," said Gellert. "All filthy Muggles that haven't eaten in days. Let's go see them, shall we?"
But he did not want to go see them. He did not want to see their eyes looking into his, pleading with him silently.
Three hours later, he found himself shaking and crying in a Nazi restroom that was (bizarrely) clean and cheery for the location. There was even a painting of the ocean hanging on the wall. An ocean painting in the middle of a concentration camp. It seemed so ironic that people were dying in starvation on the ground just outside - one would never believe how barbaric this place was.
Albus knew he had to be quick. He knew the longer he took to pull himself together, the more Gellert would suspect he had broken down and was crying which, of course, was true.
I can't do this. I can't do this. I can't do this.
He had to do it. Gell- Grindelwald - had the Elder Wand. Hitler's war may or may not be coming to an end, but Grindelwald's would never be stopped until that wand was taken away from him. The only person in the world who could ever take it from him was Albus. He just had to do it correctly, and crying and shaking in front of a mirror was not the correct way to do it.
He fully understood what doing it correctly entailed.
After taking several deep breaths and checking to make sure his eyes were not too red, he ejected himself from the restroom and back into hell.
The Nazis did not look at him with curiosity anymore. They had all seen him with Grindelwald. He was one of them now. He sped down the hallways, got lost once, but eventually found his way back to Grindelwald.
"What did you do, get lost?" Gellert asked him. (Albus completely forgot he was supposed to be Grindelwald as soon as their eyes met.)
"Once," Albus said in irritation, thankful his response was completely truthful. "Gellert, I need to talk to you."
"Can it wait?" asked Gellert, looking faintly amused. "You probably didn't notice, but I'm already speaking with other people."
Albus noticed three other men watching the exchange. Apparently he had interrupted them.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Fine," Albus muttered, looking embarrassed. He took a few steps back and leaned against the wall, waiting.
"What the hell is wrong with your friend?" said one of the Nazis in German. Apparently, he did not know Albus knew what he was saying.
"Please do not mind him," replied Gellert blandly in German. "He just gets jealous when he sees me talking to other men, that's all."
There was a long pause after this in which Albus turned red, but he did not want to let on that he understood German, so he did not so much as twitch.
"You might want to keep something like that quiet if you want him to live," said one Nazi with dark hair and hazel eyes. Even though this was said in a language other than his own, Albus could decipher his tone was deadly serious. "You do know the Führer is due to stop by this afternoon, correct?"
"Worry about yourself, Fabian," snapped Gellert. "You never know what kind of information others might be digging up about you."
The dark-haired man looked angry, but he did not retort. The subject was dropped.
Some ten minutes later, the Nazis walked away, leaving Albus and Gellert by themselves. Gellert looked over at him inquisitively, and Albus became uncomfortably aware that this was the first time he was alone with Gellert in a tiny room since he was eighteen.
"Looks like someone let slip that you're a fucking queer," said Gellert in English once again. "I'm betting it was Aberforth though."
Albus' mouth twitched into a genuine smile before he remembered where what was going on around him. He hated himself for feeling any shred of happiness or amusement when there were people starving to death all around him.
"So what are you needing to talk to me about?" said Gellert finally.
"Hitler," said Albus simply, acting as if his temper was short.
"That idiot. What about him?"
"The headline article was 'Grindelwald Joins Hitler,'" said Albus firmly. "Please tell me you're not actually considering him to be an equal to us, are you?"
"Hitler? An equal?" echoed Gellert as he looked completely dumbfounded. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course not. He's a Muggle."
"Then you're not thinking of actually letting him rule with us, are you?"
Gellert laughed. He shook his head, his blond hair falling in front of his eyes. "You honestly thought I was going to let Hitler rule over the Muggles? Of course I won't do that. He is useful for now, that's all. I plan to kill him off as soon as the time is right, which is actually fast approaching, truly. No, and besides, Hitler is probably thinking the same thing about me. I tell him I'll let him rule over the Muggles. He tells me he'll let me - let me - rule over the Wizarding world. But both of us are lying to the other. He has no plans to let me rule wizards. None at all. Hitler likes to operate alone. He would not be satisfied with anyone having any real power other than him. He would never settle for a partner." Gellert smiled crookedly. "Of course, it is hilarious that he thinks he can even have me killed off, but no matter. He will die when the time is right. He is no match for you and me. Until then, it appears you'll get to meet him this afternoon."
"Do you think he suspects you are planning to kill him?" asked Albus, not really caring what the answer was.
"Most likely. Yes, he probably does. Both lying to each other, knowing we are lying, and knowing that we are planning to kill each other in the near future. Yes, I think that sums up my relationship with Adolf Hitler. Yet we respect each other so much, Albus, for right now, we both benefit the other. Hitler loves me to death, and I love him, it's just a shame we are both plotting each others' deaths, and we both know it. Unfortunately for him, he has no idea just how powerful magic is. He really doesn't stand a chance against me when the right time comes."
Albus nodded and closed his eyes, pretending to be lost in thought. Then he realized it was probably not a good idea to be standing in a tiny room with his enemy with his eyes closed, he reopened his eyes to see Gellert contemplating him in silence.
"What?" asked Albus softly, feeling self-conscious.
"Nothing," replied Gellert. "Come walk around with me. I'll tell you all about Hitler."
No. Albus did not want to go out there. He did not want to walk among the prisoners again - the dead and the living dead.
Gellert flashed a smile. "You feel bad for the Muggles, don't you?"
The lie died on his lips. He simply closed his eyes again.
Gellert clapped a hand on his shoulder and said, "You'll get used to it. It's all for the better - when it's over. Let's walk."
"Wait," Albus said suddenly.
Gellert looked at him curiously. "What is it?"
He held his gaze for a moment before saying, "How do you know that you have the Elder Wand? The real Elder Wand?" His heart was hammering so hard that he felt it was almost audible.
Gellert smiled a mischievous grin. "I was wondering when you were going to ask me." He drew the wand from his robes. It looked ordinary, with odd bumped ridges on it, but disappointingly normal nonetheless. His eyes met Albus' again. "Do you trust me?" he asked quietly.
The answer was most assuredly no, but Albus nodded.
"Give me your wand," Gellert commanded.
Very, very reluctantly, Albus handed his own wand to Gellert. He knew he could not have talked his way out of this.
Gellert then put the Elder Wand back into his robes and produced a second wand instead, which was, Albus decided, definitely a good thing for him to know that Gellert kept a spare wand on his person. Albus' curiosity soon turned to horror when Gellert snapped Albus' own wand in two.
A little gasp escaped him. He couldn't help it.
"Keep calm," said Gellert with a smile. Then he held Albus' broken wand under the palm of his hand. Using his ordinary spare wand, Gellert pointed it at Albus' broken one and said, "Reparo!"
Predictably, nothing happened. Albus' wand remained in two.
Then Gellert placed his spare wand back into his cloak and took the Elder Wand back out again. He pointed the Elder Wand and said, "Reparo!"
Albus' wand snapped back together. He felt his jaw slacken. No wand could mend another wand that had been snapped in two like that. A snapped wand is always considered an unrepairable one. Looking delighted, Gellert handed Albus back his mended wand. A few sparks flew out of it, and Albus knew it was completely functional once again. He stared numbly at his wand in his hand before snapping out of it.
"It really is," said Albus, his eyes wide. "How - I thought - I can't believe you actually -" He fell silent, his words failing him. Finally, he said, "Can I see it?"
Gellert laughed loudly. "No, I don't think so, Albus." He shook his head in amusement before saying, "Come on, walk with me; we'll talk."
And so they did.
"Hitler's not bad, for a Muggle," said Gellert as they walked around the outskirts of the camp. It was near dusk now. The smell was as worse as ever, and Albus was fairly sure he would never be able to have the stomach to eat anything ever again. "Actually, I find similarities between myself and him. It's almost as if Hitler is my inferior Muggle self."
"How do you reach such a conclusion?"
"Well, Hitler is an idealist. Mind you, some of his ideas are completely deranged, I don't really understand the Jewish hatred fully, but he really does believe in his vision. He honestly believes he was meant to change the world. He thinks of himself as a person who was destined to rule the world - chosen. He truly does believe in what he is saying. You've never seen or heard one of his speeches, have you?"
"I've only read them."
"Well, he is a brilliant, brilliant speaker. He knows how to capture an audience, even better than me. He starts off his speeches quietly, with a deeper and calmer voice. Then as he gets more and more into it, he starts building with emotion. He's eventually shouting, his voice is higher, and it's charged with emotion. Ranting, gifted ranting. Point is, he is charismatic and passionate, an idealist... like me... He's not so good of a writer though. Have you ever read his book Mein Kampf? Complete rambling, no order. Yet according to the Nazis, it's the best thing ever published in the history of mankind... And did you know that he's a damn artist want-to-be? Did you notice the damn painting in the bathroom? The idiot was rejected from art school when he was eighteen or so. Hah!"
They were coming back to the main building. Albus was relieved to leave the prisoners behind. It hurt to look at them.
Unconsciously, the two men walked back to the room where they had been - where Gellert had shown him the Elder Wand. It was not until the door had shut behind them did Albus realize he had no idea why they had come back here. He was tense, but Gellert, like always, seemed completely relaxed. The blond leaned against a wall and crossed his arms in front of him as Albus tried to figure out how to hold himself in the least awkwardly way possible. He eventually decided to lean against the wall as well but did not cross his arms because that would be a direct copy, and he was sure there were social norms against that. He was trying to learn Gellert's body language - to watch for a sign of weakness he could use to steal the wand, but the wand was too well protected, and he was becoming increasingly dismayed at this...
"I've missed you, Albus," Gellert said after he blew some hair out of his eyes. "I've even missed Aberforth a little."
He didn't know how to reply.
"I mean, Aberforth was always insane, but still, he could be amusing... I'm sure he's settled down and he's making some goat very happy. Do you ever talk to him much?"
"I haven't spoken to my brother in nearly forty-six years," replied Albus, his voice distant. "He works and lives in Hogsmeade, but I don't dare go into the bar where he works."
"Hmm... Well, I'm sorry about what happened to Ariana. I can't remember if I already told you that or not."
Albus felt a lump in his throat and he wished Gellert would stop talking.
"Without a doubt," continued Gellert, "she did not deserve the hand she was dealt in life."
He was blinking back tears now. He couldn't remember why he was here with Gellert in the first place anymore. Her death had happened so long ago, so why did it still impact him so profoundly?
"Listen," Gellert said as he reached out and gripped Albus' shoulder, "it truly was not your fault. I don't know why you like to torture yourself and blame yourself so much. You always have been that way, and I suppose you always will be."
He closed his eyes and he could sense Gellert had left the wall. He felt Gellert come close to him, but he could not bear to open his eyes again out of fear of seeing a monster staring back at him. His last thought was it's useless before Gellert kissed him.
He hated, hated, hated the fact he still had feelings for him. Before, he was scared that he might not be able to pull off pretending to be in love with Gellert. Now he saw that he didn't have to worry about pretending. He still did, despite everything, and this disgusted him. He completely forgot about the Elder Wand in Gellert's pocket.
Albus was not brought back to his senses until the door opened loudly. The kiss was broken and he felt Gellert look over to see who it was, but Albus himself could not bear to look.
"Sir -" the intruder began in German before stopping short.
"What the hell do you want?" Gellert snapped in German impatiently. "What?"
"The Führer has arrived," the man stuttered. The stutter made it difficult for Albus to translate, but he managed. He was finally able to glance over and saw that it was the dark-haired man from earlier - Fabian. "He is waiting for you."
"I am not going," said Gellert dismissively.
"Why?" Fabian dared to ask.
"Why?" thundered Gellert. "Why? Because I am busy having homosexual sex with this man, you unbelievable idiot! Go tell the Führer that!"
Fabian disappeared as quickly as he had come.
Sounding gleeful, Gellert said, "We'll wait for five minutes and then go to the meeting."
"Gellert," Albus began wearily, "why did - ?"
"That should be obvious," said Gellert. "He'll go tell Hilter that I said I'm too preoccupied and why, and then we'll both show up and I'll ask him why he didn't tell me the meeting had begun."
"Don't you think something bad might happen to him?"
"Well, certainly! He'll probably be killed. That's the whole point. I never liked the way Fabian looked at me. This is what I do; I wreck havoc on the Nazi Party."
Albus put his face in his hands. He could not handle Gellert and all his pure insanity. Maybe it would have been humorous had Albus not believed that Fabian's life was probably in danger now, and this made him feel sick for the millionth time that day.
"Now listen," Gellert was telling him excitedly, "at this meeting, don't say anything other than hello. I know you've been pretending you don't speak German, but now you'll have to reveal that you can. Hitler won't like you if you don't know German, see. He'll view you as inferior or something. I don't really give a rat's ass what Hitler's opinions are, but remember, I'm using him for now, so I'll need him to be on board with you. Otherwise though, don't speak."
"All right," Albus said tiredly. "All right. I can speak German, but I won't say much. Fine."
Five minutes later, they were walking down for the meeting, entering the large room, and Albus found himself in the same room as the Adolf Hitler. What the Muggle "Allies" would have given to be in this position...
He had a difficult time believing that this was the Hitler. He had seen him in many pictures before, but Albus had still been expecting someone more impressive-looking. Hitler appeared to be exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and Albus noted that he looked like a man defeated. He understood why Gellert had told him the Muggle war was coming to an end. It looked like even the delusional idealist agreed. However, when Hitler's eyes fell upon Gellert, his expression changed. He looked immensely relieved and glad to see him. A spark lit his eyes as if he was holding onto the very chandeliers of hope, and Gellert was his hope...
"My apologies," Gellert said politely. Then he shot a confused look at Fabian and said, "Why didn't you tell us the meeting had started?"
Without waiting for an answer, Gellert sat down, and Albus sat down beside him like his shadow. Fabian looked horrified. Hitler shot Fabian a very suspicious look, and Albus fully knew that Fabian might as well begin writing his last will and testament. It was Gellert's word against Fabian's, and Gellert was clearly the winner.
For the rest of the meeting, Gellert would interject randomly and unhelpfully, and everyone in the room would look at him in disgust except for Hitler.
"Don't send the troops east," Gellert would interrupt. "I have connections... I have foreseen that sending them east would be a very bad idea. We will lose over five thousand men."
"Oh really?" snapped one of the Nazis. "You have connections, do you? Why don't you share them with us?"
Gellert would sigh and close his eyes before wearily saying, "You would not understand, you foolish Muggle."
Only Hitler took him seriously.
By the time the meeting was over, the sun had long since set. Hitler had clearly been a man at the end of his rope. Albus did not know much inside information about the war, but it was quite clear to him that Hitler knew he had lost it. He was obviously convinced that only magic could save him now, and Gellert and Albus happened to be able to do magic. Albus knew that Gellert would never lift a finger to help him though, and even if he wanted to, magic could not work on such a large scale as saving the losing side of a war involving millions. Hitler, ever a Muggle, did not understand this.
"That ignorant bastard," chortled Gellert as he led Albus to a part of the camp he had not yet seen. "He thinks I can say abracadabra and all the Allies' soldiers will fall over dead while simultaneously killing all the Jews all over the planet. He can't even get into art school. Oh God, how glad I am you're here to laugh with me, Al."
But Albus was not laughing. He had eaten a small dinner there and now felt sick because his stomach was not empty, whereas all the prisoners' were. He wanted to throw up and never eat again. In addition, he knew his time to act would probably be tonight. He prayed he could get the Elder Wand away from Gellert as soon as possible. He couldn't bear to do this again tomorrow. If he could just get Gellert to fall asleep...
Of course, Albus was fantasizing it to happen like this: 1) They would go to wherever it was Gellert lived; 2) Gellert would immediately tell him he was going to go to sleep; 3) Gellert actually going to sleep; 4) it would be a very deep sleep at that; 5) Albus stealing the wand from his unattended robes or nightstand or wherever he kept it; 6) him waking Gellert and saying that it was all over and to come quietly; and 7) then Gellert would come quietly with no struggle. That was what Albus desperately was hoping for. Albus knew it was not actually going to happen this way, but he had no idea just how horribly things would actually turn out.
"Right here!" said Gellert gladly, stopping at a door. He opened it not with a key, but with the wand Albus so desperately wanted. It disappeared again deep into Gellert's pocket. The door opened, they stepped inside, and Albus felt like he was going to be murdered in this room when the door shut behind them.
"This is where I stay when I'm here," explained Gellert unnecessarily.
"I like the curtains," Albus said stiffly.
"Yeah," Gellert agreed. "Yeah, I bought those for a good price."
Albus knew he was making fun of him, just like he had made fun of the entire Nazi Party all night. There was an awkward pause.
"Well," said Albus, "I'm tired. I'm ready to go to bed."
"Me too," said Gellert with a mischievous grin. "Thank God, I thought you would want to talk or something."
"No, I don't mean that," said Albus tensely. When Gellert narrowed his eyes suspiciously, Albus tried to cover his tracks, "I - I mean - it's just I'm tired, I was really nervous last night about seeing you again, and I didn't get much sleep, and I want to go to sleep, that's all."
"Odd," said Gellert coolly. "I thought you were still in love with me." He tilted his head. "Maybe you aren't anymore."
He didn't know what to say.
Then Gellert shrugged. "Well, that's all right if you don't anymore. If you just are in this for the cause, I'm perfectly fine with this... I mean, my God, Albus... the only reason I pretended to be in love with you was so I could control you. I thought you wouldn't be my partner anymore if I didn't pretend to love you back. If you want to keep it, er, official business only, that is fine."
It was a punch in the gut. He couldn't breathe anymore. He walked over to the sofa wordlessly, sat down, and put his face in his hands. Silent tears began to fall, and he began to shake. He had always known that Gellert didn't love him like Albus loved him, but to hear that the entire thing was a fabrication hurt. He had known that Gellert was using him to an extent, but that he felt absolutely nothing... Even worse, he became aware that he was crying not for the Holocaust victims who would not make it through the night, but for himself...
He felt Gellert sit down next to him, but Gellert did not speak. Finally, Albus looked up at him, tears still falling.
"Don't you understand?" Albus managed to to say finally. "I do still love you, and I hate that. I hate it!"
"Why?" asked Gellert blankly, looking at Albus as if he was out of his mind. "I'm here. You're here. We're together again. So, what's the issue?"
"I can't believe you just said that," said Albus in despair. "I can't believe you just said you were pretending - that whole time -"
"All right, all right," interrupted Gellert. "Okay, I was lying. I do love you, always have, always will. I just - you - your words just hurt me, you just rejected me, so I just tried to hurt you back. I'm sorry. I kissed you today, remember?"
Albus closed his eyes and nodded, but he knew Gellert was lying. He didn't have feelings for Albus at all - it had always been about manipulation. Sure, he might be physically attracted to him at best, maybe, but sexual attraction and love were two different things entirely. Gellert was the kind of person who was attracted to anyone that was human anyway. Gellert never loved him - ever. That was why Gellert only started to have feelings for him after Albus had told him, all those years ago, that he was not going to join Gellert in his quest for the Deathly Hallows. Albus had cut it off, so Gellert pretended to love him in order to trap him and use him. Albus had never put two and two together quite like that. He wanted to shrivel up and die.
Gellert reached out and removed his hands from his face. He muttered a quick, "I'm sorry," leaned in, and kissed him again.
Maybe pretending to believe a lie is better than admitting you know it isn't true.
Albus put his arms around him and almost forgot about the damned Elder Wand entirely.
"Where... where are you going?"
He watched numbly as Gellert put the cloak back on with both the Elder Wand and the spare wand deep within his pockets. He turned to Albus, who was still lying there, his face pale. Dully, Gellert replied, "The place is yours for the night. I'm going to go, and you know why."
No. No, no, no, no, no...
"You don't trust me."
"The owner of the Elder Wand cannot trust anyone," said Gellert solemnly. "I'm sorry. I'm sure you understand, given the fact I own the wand that others have killed for. If you really love me, if you really are here to join me, you won't have a problem with this arrangement."
"Well, I do have a problem with it!" said Albus, his voice raising several octaves with each passing word. "You don't even trust me enough to fall asleep?"
"No, I do not trust you enough to lose consciousness in front of you while the Elder Wand is sitting in my robes in plain view for you to take," said Gellert coolly. "Either you will learn to deal with this or you won't. And you should be thanking me, by the way. I just did you a favor. Good night. Don't try to find where I am. You won't be successful."
He swept from the room. Albus heard the door close behind him.
Albus did not move an inch. He just sat there in shock. He did not cry or shake. He was frozen. He had been counting on Gellert falling asleep or at least knowing where it was he slept. He tried to think of a plan - how would he get the wand now?
He had none. Not a single idea.
He looked over at the table where he had left his own wand. It was gone. Gellert had taken it when he wasn't looking. When had he taken it? This was the complete opposite of what was supposed to happen. Gellert had made a fool of him all over again.
Defeated was an understatement. He rolled over, pulled the covers over his head, and cried himself to sleep. He had nightmares of the prisoners all night. Their motionless emaciated bodies stacked high on top of one another in front of the crematoria, their eyes unseeing. Their empty eyes looked back at him as they clearly told him, "Why aren't you doing anything?"
This is what the Greater Good looked like at last.
A/N: Goddamn, this is over 8000 words long. I have to stop here. It's a 4-parter after all. Albus is in deep shit here.
You might be asking why I actually included Hitler at all. Reason is because I wanted him to look pathetic in comparison to Grindelwald. I have heard that he did not do well toward the end of the war. Hitler's fight was ending, but Gellert's was just beginning. Since JK Rowling did say that Grindelwald was connected to Hitler, you have to wonder what kind of a relationship they had. I can't picture it as an equal-to-equal relationship, honestly. And toward the end of the war, Hitler was losing it.
Two real life things you might not believe:
1. Yes, Hitler was once an aspiring artist. He was turned down by art school when his paintings/drawings were not good enough and was devastated.
2. Dachau and the gas chambers - there is no proof that the gas chambers here were used, but many have pointed out it seems unlikely that the Nazis would build them and then not use them. It is debated.