A/N: Final Stopping Grindelwald. Could I have split this chapter up? Yes. But that's not what I'm gonna do. I did consider breaking this up because I know it's been a while since the last update, but I decided I didn't want to lie to you about this being the final chapter and opted for a longer update instead. This is super long. There's probably going to be a lot of mistakes/typos.
My advice to all of you kids out there reading this fic is don't fall in love with somebody, but if you can't help it, at least make sure it isn't with a psychotic person looking to change the world order by mass murder. I feel so bad for Albus here. Without getting too philosophical now, I'll just say love isn't rational, you can't reason with your feelings, you can't turn it off even when logic is telling you that you have every reason to.
Red Furry Demon - The translation I originally had for "for the greater good" was off of a Google translate thing. Damn Google! I've seen like 3 different translations for "for the greater good." What the heck? So the translation I changed it to was taken straight from the German translation of Deathly Hallows, yet I've also seen that the German translation in the official book isn't right either. How difficult is it to write "for the greater good" in German! Honestly. Also, I took the name "Fabian" from a list of "popular German male names" that I found. IDK if it's a legit list, if it's not, I'm pissed... In English, we do say "last will and testament," even though it is redundant. It's even how Scrimgeour referred to Dumbledore's will in Deathly Hallows. It's often shorted to just "will," but "last will and testament" is more official somehow... But as for Albus and his, um, master plan last chapter, well... he's going to need to be honest with himself here, which you'll see. Did he think there was a small chance the "plan" might've worked? A small one, yes... but that wasn't his primary motivation for the slash moment. He's still in love with Gellert. The ANGST. I'm so mean to Albus...
fan - Aw, thank you! IMO, a flawed Albus is a perfect Albus. We know of his shortcomings since Deathly Hallows, and people seem to hate him for it! They'd rather he be the perfect super-duper good Albus that he's seen as by Harry in books 1-6, but that's boring. He's human!
MagicalWitch92 - Your English is great - and thank you! Harry/Dumbledore is definitely my favorite dynamic too.
Sue Clover - Haha, thanks! Hopefully this does not disappoint, but it probably will. Honestly, I think facing Grindelwald would have been a horrible task. Albus loved the evil little bastard. And then to pretend to still have feelings for him, but actually still having feelings for him, urgh, how awful. Poor Albus...
Guest - Thank you much! I have noticed that with fanfics - people borrow the characters, but everything is totally different. I like to stick with not contradicting JK Rowling's world. I mean, it's perfect the way she wrote it! Voldemort/Dumbledore is something I haven't even thought of. I'm not sure if I can pull that off, but I'll think about it!
Amanda - I agree totally - I have always thought that. Why would Grindelwald want to risk it?
BrigidSparks - Is that a good oh my God or a bad oh my God? Haha!
"Your journey was pointless. I never had it. ... Kill me, then, Voldemort, I welcome death! But my death will not bring you what you seek... There is so much you do not understand..."
- Grindelwald's last words, Deathly Hallows, chapter 23
"I wanted to be a better brother, better son, wanted to be a better adversary to the evil I have done..."
- Twenty One Pilots, Polarize
Were you even trying to steal the Elder Wand?
Roughly fourteen million people had been murdered in the name of the greater good, and Albus was still failing to stop it, even after seeing it firsthand.
After last night, he was certain of one thing: He was not trying hard enough. He wasn't even trying at all. What a pathetic and disastrous attempt that was... if he could call it that...
He had given up on getting a decent night's sleep. Instead, he woke up slightly after three, took a bath because he felt heavily contaminated (it did not help), and then sat up in the early morning hours, waiting for the sun to rise, second-guessing his motivations.
Were you really even trying to steal the Elder Wand at all? Or did you do that because you are still in love with him? He didn't want that question answered. Of course he had done it for the wand... No, you didn't, a tiny voice in his head said. That was just your excuse. A tear fell from his right eye. The shame Albus was feeling was overwhelming. He was supposed to be Gellert's adversary - his opponent - his polar opposite. Instead, he had let his feelings carry him away... He was still in love with someone he should not love anymore, and it had potentially cost him his wand. Try as hard as he could, he could not polarize himself from Gellert, and despite all the evil things Gellert was responsible for, he still could not see him in an exclusively negative light.
How can you be in love with someone who has supported and aided the killing of millions of innocent people? Because you aren't much better yourself. Water seeks its own level. How far would you have gone with your plans for the greater good had Ariana not died? To Albus, that was the most terrifying question of all. How far would you have gone for the greater good had Ariana's death not snapped you out of it?
He could just imagine someone saying to him, "You're trying to stop Grindelwald? If anyone's going to stop him, it's got to be you. So, how did the first day go? Have you made any progress?" To which Albus would have to reply, "Well... not exactly. I have - er - complicated feelings for him... and he took my wand. I don't know how to get it back now." Things were going so well that he had stepped backward.
Yet even if he did get his wand back, he was still quite certain he would never win the unbeatable wand by duel. Gellert was as powerful as him, perhaps Albus was a shade more skillful, but the scales were tipped enormously in Gellert's favor. Furthermore, even if he managed to somehow duel with Gellert, could he hurt him? Could he kill the man he had loved - still loved - had made love to the night previously - would always love? No mask could ever cover up this shame.
It was becoming increasingly difficult to deny that he would have to duel Gellert, and he was quite certain Gellert would kill him in the process, if he ever did get his wand back. Albus still had to die trying. However, his failure would mean that Gellert would freely go on to carry out the Greater Good after all with no serious opponent who could stop him. Maybe someone else would be born someday capable of growing up to stop Grindelwald.
Shortly after the sun had risen, the door opened, and Gellert came in looking wide awake.
"We have a lot to do today," said Gellert simply.
When Albus did not respond, he glanced over at Albus as he tried to fix Gellert with a furious glare.
"What's the matter with you?" Gellert asked.
"You took my wand," said Albus angrily. "You had no right to do that."
Gellert shrugged. "My apologies, but I didn't like the idea of an unsupervised Albus Dumbledore with a wand meandering around while I slept. It did not sit well with me. I'm sure you can understand my apprehension."
"Not particularly," said Albus coldly, "and if partnership is at all what you want from me, you won't take something like that from me. I would have been completely defenseless. You might as well have taken my right arm."
"Who's going to attack you here?"
"All right, why don't you tell me how many nights you have slept without your wand by your side here, despite the fact that you are the only wizard within a great radius?"
Gellert frowned at him for a moment before saying, "Fine, I see your point." He then sighed before sitting down on the bed beside Albus, pulling him close, and kissing him softly. Albus felt amazed, for the thousandth time, at how soft Gellert's lips were, and he felt himself losing his battle to not feel again. Then Gellert pulled him into an embrace, just like he used to do whenever Albus was upset about his brother, his sister, his parents... He tensed but Gellert did not seem to notice.
"I love you," Gellert murmured. Albus felt his heart fluttering against his will, and he closed his eyes in defeat.
He didn't understand what Gellert's feelings for him were. One minute he was completely convinced Gellert had no feelings for him whatsoever and the next he was convinced that there was something there buried deep within, but he also knew full-well that Gellert was a master manipulator. But it doesn't matter, he reminded himself fiercely. He was here to stop Gellert's campaign. Love or no love was irrelevant. It was a distraction from his real purpose, and it should not matter.
Gellert pulled Albus back with him until Gellert's back hit the bed board. They sat in silence. Albus wanted to demand upon getting his wand back, but something told him to be silent and wait. He knew his wand had to be on his person, but Gellert had so many deep pockets...
"It's a damn shame you spent all those years teaching those idiot schoolchildren," Gellert said suddenly. "I have to stop and think where we would be had we stayed together. The Statute of Secrecy would have already been overthrown, I think. I never would have teamed up with Hitler. I never would have let Hitler's little revolution happen. We never would've had to mass execute Muggles because we would have had them under our control from early on."
Oh, great. So now the entire Holocaust and World War II was Albus Dumbledore's fault. Of course. Whose fault would it be if not his?
"But no matter. It will all be over soon. The suffering will be over soon; the killing will be over soon."
"We don't have to kill any Muggles at all," muttered Albus thickly.
"Yes, we do. There are just too many."
Albus did not dare say more for fear of letting his true feelings show for a long while. Then he heard himself say, "Ariana always liked you for some reason. She liked you more than she liked me."
"Al, you have to stop thinking about Ariana. Let the past go."
Then Gellert straightened up, Albus following suit.
"This is my last day here at Dachau, I fear," said Gellert, his tone serious.
"Why do you say this?" asked Albus.
"It will be liberated soon, which is a damn shame, but it will be." Gellert sighed and stood up slowly. "Let's go have breakfast. Come on."
"I have no appetite."
Gellert rolled his eyes. "Yes, you do. You have to eat. Now get up and follow me."
Reluctantly, Albus did so. They left and went down the hallway to yet another place Albus had not seen before.
"Dachau," Gellert said carefully, "is going to die out. The Nazis are frantically trying to destroy evidence. The war is lost. They want to erase all the paperwork of concentration camps so that they world does not see their doings. Nazi Germany is being invaded - taken over - by the Allies. It is obvious to me, though the Nazis refuse to admit it outright, that the end of Dachau is near. What is going to happen is all of our remaining prisoners are going to to go on a march - a very long one, at that. A death march. They will be forced to walk for days. Anyone who cannot keep up or who falls down will be shot. They want to make the prisoners march to the coasts to be drowned. Weird solution, isn't it?"
Albus muttered a yes.
"Yes, these people do not have much longer. Like always, the weak will die first. We have Nurmengard, but Albus, we do have a problem. I do not know what the Allies will do with all of these eighteen concentration camps. I do not know if they will be flattened or bombed or torn down or left to stand. Nurmengard isn't very large. We will need somewhere to kill off the inferior Muggles. Even with all eighteen concentration camps running non-stop... it would take a long time to kill off the inferior life forms... So many worthless Muggles and only so much prussic acid. What do you propose we do with them?"
Pretend. Pretend, pretend, pretend -
"I would like to see Nurmengard," said Albus finally. "What kind of a place is it and what happens there? Is it in Nuremberg or...?"
"No, but there is a connection between the two. And you will get to see it. We're going to visit it tomorrow morning. It is like a Wizarding concentration camp," said Gellert softly. "My Wizarding enemies go there to slowly die. People in the Wizarding community that I needed to silence. People who have threatened the Greater Good. The vast majority of them are German."
"Couldn't... I know the inferior Muggles are an expense because they require food and water. Couldn't we just round them up and let them starve to death?" said Albus, hating his response.
"That makes sense," said Gellert, "but it does actually take a long time for people to starve. In addition, if we left them unattended, they would probably resort to cannibalism and an anarchy or something. It has happened in some concentration camps. These walls have seen many things, not all of which you will find in the documents the Nazis are attempting to destroy... I was actually thinking that perhaps wizards and witches could all take turns killing them off with Avada Kedavra. It would be like a civic duty. Everyone would have to do it in brief rotations as a service to the rest of the world. Honestly though, nothing seems like a good solution. We never should have let the Muggles overpopulate with inferior beings like this. It is such a mess to clean up. I can understand why Hitler said he faced such a difficult task - how do we get rid of the ones we do not want permanently? I can't stand the disabled Muggles."
"How many should we have killed off?" Albus asked calmly as a flurry of exhausted-looking Nazis passed them going in the opposite direction.
"There are 2.35 billion people in the world today," replied Gellert. "Over two billion. The Wizarding population makes up less than 1% of that total. It's only about 0.5% actually, on a good day. Now, since wizards are superior, I do not think it would be difficult for us to control the Muggles, but 2.35 billion people is simply far too many for us to handle. Do you know what 0.5% of 2.35 billion is?"
Albus had to think for only a second. "Eleven million, seven-hundred and fifty thousand."
"Quite right. There are too many of them for us. We need to get rid of the ones that will cost society too much and keep the ones that can pull their own weight. I want to cut the Muggle population by 15-20%."
"There aren't that many disabled Muggles -"
"The disabled ones are a good start," Gellert interrupted, "but that does not mean other lesser ones will not be good enough to make the cut. I hope all the Muggles here die on the death march. They would be too difficult to nurse back to health anyway. It would not be worth it. They have nothing to offer. Fourteen million Muggles dead. That is not enough. The population used to be kept in check better in the past. Have you heard about antibiotics? The Muggles aren't dying as much as they need to..."
Albus bit back his words and walked in silence.
A total of eight train cars arrived that afternoon.
"All dead," Gellert said, sounding disgusted as he and the Nazis peered inside of each boxcar. "Ah well."
"We have one survivor," said a Nazi. A boy was standing before him. He looked like was around ten or eleven years old. Roughly first-year age. He had red hair, a pale face, and he was trembling as Gellert looked him up and down.
"No," Gellert said, "he is too young. He is an expense."
"He could work," Albus interrupted in German, thinking of his own first-years.
Gellert fixed him with a glare.
"No, there are no survivors," said Gellert in finality.
As Gellert led a torn Albus away, Gellert said, "You have to stop being so emotional and sentimental. It's no different than if you were a Muggle hunting animals to survive. Could you ever even shoot a deer, Albus, or would you have too much sympathy for it? You'll starve if you don't kill it. It's all about survival and logic. I don't want to pay for a useless ten-year-old to live, and I don't want the German people to either. Sometimes life has unpleasant realities. Sometimes, some have to die for the betterment of the rest of us."
Albus did not trust himself to speak.
"Maybe children are the solution," Gellert continued, sounding as if he was speaking more to himself than to Albus. "Perhaps we should just cut the children's population severely and wait for the population number to drop. Less Muggles breeding, less babies, less Muggles. Or maybe we should limit each Muggle to having only one child. But that would take a long time to finally make a difference - too long - and reinforcing it would be a massive task. Or maybe we should do both. I'm not sure, Albus. How are we going to kill all these people?"
"If it weren't for Muggles, we would have died out."
"Yes, I know that, Albus. The Muggles are necessary, but there is something called 'too much.' You think I like sending Muggle children to their deaths? I don't. Especially the German ones. My allegiance is first to German wizards and witches, then to all magical blood, and last to Muggles. I love Wizarding children, actually. The ones on our side love me."
It was three hours past noon when Gellert actually looked at him for the first time in hours.
"Come on, Albus. Come talk to me."
So Albus followed him back to the small quarters where Gellert lived. Even with all the window drapes open, it was still dark inside. The sun had not shone all day. Albus hated to hear the door click closed behind him again, feeling that his life was going to end whenever he was alone with Gellert.
"Gellert," Albus said in a little voice before Gellert could speak first.
Gellert's eyes locked with his.
"I would like my wand back," said Albus softly.
The other man did not respond at first. Instead, he walked over to the sofa and sat down heavily. Albus eventually followed suit, and he sat there in silence, counting the minutes passing. It was clear Gellert was not going to reply just yet.
"You gave up on finding the Cloak and the Stone," said Albus eventually.
Gellert raised his head to meet Albus' gaze. His eyes looked haunted, and Albus had to wonder what on earth could be troubling such a heartless human being.
"No, I haven't," Gellert denied. "It's just that the Cloak and the Stone aren't as valuable. I would like to have them all someday, but I don't believe possessing all three makes you immortal anymore. 'Master of Death' is just a metaphor... I'm not seventeen anymore; I don't believe in such things... Do you still want the Resurrection Stone?"
Albus closed his eyes. "Yes, but not like I wanted it back then... I would still like to see my parents and apologize..."
"You feel too much, Al, that's the problem. You don't want the Stone for its power, you want it to help you with your guilt. I don't want you to feel. I want you to think. You aren't the brilliant young man you used to be."
"And I want you to respect me," Albus shot back. "Before Ariana's death, I was your equal, remember? That slogan of yours that you have etched on Dachau's gate - 'For the Greater Good' - who thought of it? I did. Who told you that the Elder Wand was with Gregorovitch? I did. And who ran away after Ariana was killed by accident? You did. You ran away and left me in the dust without a clue of what I was thinking. It is your damn fault it has come to this - this Muggle war that you've made your own that is now losing - not mine. I was always your equal, and that's all I'm looking for from you. In case you've forgotten the score, so far you have used me last night, left me, and stolen my wand. That is where we are. If you want me to be your equal, you have to treat me like one."
"Your heart isn't in for the greater good anymore."
"My heart is wherever yours is."
Gellert narrowed his eyes and looked away. He was silent for a long time. Then he reached into one of his many pockets and pulled out Albus' wand. He looked back at Albus and said, "I want this back when you go to sleep. I won't be able to sleep without it."
"Fine," Albus muttered angrily, "though I think you already don't really sleep at night."
Gellert handed the wand over and said, "Somewhat true, yes. But here you are, equal. Just remember I'm still the one with the unbeatable wand here."
Albus took his wand back, looking determined. "Where are we exactly going tomorrow after we leave Dachau? Nurmengard, you said"
"Just outside Nurmengard," replied Gellert quietly. "Ever heard of Windsbach? Just along the main river. Only wizards can see it, of course. It is quite secluded - almost as if there is war going on at all. Enough with these Muggles, don't you think?"
"Quite. I still really do not understand why you are so involved with the Nazi Party in the first place, to be honest."
"They are good manufacturers of weeding out the unnecessary people."
Albus studied his fingernails for a moment before saying, "Are you very upset that the Nazis are losing the war?"
"Yes, but I will live. I do feel very bad for the German people though."
Albus made a face. "The Nazis are killing off their own people. Surely you don't think the Nazis actually care for the German civilians. It is all for world domination, no matter who is killed in the process."
"I see. You only have heard the story from the Allies, haven't you?" said Gellert, his voice cold, expression hard. "Yes, I can see that on your face. Your knowledge of World War II has been told to you by the Allies and the Allies alone. You think the Axis is evil while the Allies are good. It is the Allies' newspapers you cling dear to your heart, not the ones who disagree. I'm disappointed, Albus. You should be old and wise enough to know that history is always written by the victors. Do you know what the Allies have done to innocent men, women, and children? No, you don't. You have no idea. You only know what the Allies have told you. You should know that the Allies are not exactly angelic. Do you know what the Red Army has done? They rape. They kill. They bomb. They torture. They show no mercy for any German. I wish I lived in your world, Albus, where there is only good and bad, white and black, no gray areas, nothing in between..."
Albus swallowed with difficulty and did not know what to say.
"You think I'm completely wrong about everything, don't you?"
Albus looked up to find Gellert smiling knowingly.
"No, I don't," denied Albus, "I just think you and I might have to debate, negotiate, and compromise our positions in order to work together, that is all."
"Sure," said Gellert dismissively. "By the way, what is it with the beard? Because that's something I refuse to compromise over. It's got to go. Scratches my face."
"I'm sorry," Albus said, bizarrely finding that he was truly apologizing.
Gellert smiled softly before coming toward Albus. He touched Albus' wrist gently. They stood close to one another, and Albus felt the same horrible sensation he was becoming fast familiar to of feeling when not wanting to feel any emotion, only wanting to think...
"I'm sorry I hurt you, back then," Gellert said softly, and Albus could feel his warm breath on his lips. "With Ariana and all. I know I shouldn't have run away like that."
Stop talking, Albus thought.
"I shouldn't have run away. You wouldn't have hurt me, would you? I don't think you would have. I mean, you are pathetic. Hopelessly pathetic. You haven't been with anyone else since then, have you?"
"No," he breathed, and Gellert shook his head sadly.
"Well, we will have the rest of our lives to make up for that time."
Albus nodded blindly, wanting it to be true, even though he knew it wasn't. That was how it always went. Gellert would come close to him and say something, and Albus would nod like an idiot, no matter what he had said.
He wanted to lock the door behind him, but he knew better than to do so. The click would have sent off just paranoia inside of Gellert. Hands trembling, he looked around the tiny space surrounding him. He was still surprised that Gellert was even allowing him to go to the restroom without supervision. This time, he was not hiding in one to cry.
There was no window in the restroom, but that did not matter. Gellert had watched him like he was constantly waiting for an attack all day, but Albus had still managed to steal a napkin at breakfast and a cap-less, half-chewed pen shortly after the train had arrived with all the bodies. If it had not been for their correspondence earlier, Albus would have believed that Gellert owned no owl. Wherever Gellert's owl was, he was being hidden. Albus, however, had something better than an owl.
He frantically jotted down a disjointed sentence onto the napkin, straightened up, turned on the water faucet, and whispered, "Fawkes."
The phoenix knew better than to make a grand entrance. He knew there was a reason why Albus had whispered, why he had been missing for days without taking Fawkes with him. There was a tiny burst of flame and Fawkes appeared in near silence. The sound of the flame was drowned out by the running water. Fawkes landed lightly on the edge of the sink and looked at Albus expectantly.
Albus handed the napkin over to the bird, who took it in his beak. Albus pet him on the head out of courtesy and whispered, "Take it to the Auror Department. Straightaway. Make a fuss if you have to. Get their attention. I don't care if they've gone home for the day, find McDaniel, make her take this seriously."
Fawkes looked at him for a few seconds before disappearing with a flash of light, taking the napkin with him. He was gone.
Albus wasn't quite sure what he was feeling. It was done now.
He rearranged his expression into a bored, relaxed one before going back to Gellert.
"Gellert, where is your owl anyway?" he asked casually when he had found him before sitting down.
Gellert gave him a sharp look from across the table. "None of your business. Why, do you want to contact someone in the Wizarding world?"
"No," said Albus. "I was just curious. I merely realized that I hadn't seen him since I arrived. Am I not allowed to have any correspondence with anyone?"
"No, you aren't."
"You are far too paranoid, Gellert. Possessive."
"I ought to be," Gellert shot back. "I have the Elder Wand."
"I thought it was 'we' have the Elder Wand."
"No. It's 'me.'"
"Fine," said Albus in a far lighter tone than he truly felt, "though it seems you are possessive of me as well, not just the Elder Wand."
"You're another Deathly Hallow," Gellert muttered. "Same difference."
When he did not reply, Gellert looked back up at him to find him staring.
Tomorrow would be the end, whether it be a victory or a defeat. He would, of course, continue to watch for an opportunity to steal the wand, but he already knew Gellert would never let his guard down. Albus was going to make his move tomorrow at Nurmengard. The date was set, the note sent. Either he will win or he will die. There were no other options. Logic was telling Albus there was no way he could ever win, but yet...
When you are the Head of the Auror Department, sometimes you live "off the grid." It isn't always easy for someone to find Suzanne McDaniel. Sometimes, she was even so disconnected, owls could not find her. Therefore, it was a great surprise when a phoenix burst into her living room in a flash of fire.
Suzanne's children had long retired for the night, but she was sitting up late with her husband, Gene, despite how tired they both were. Suzanne drew her wand instinctively and jumped to her feet before the phoenix had even landed on her coffee table. In its beak was what appeared to be a dingy napkin. The bird dropped the napkin on the table in front of her and looked up at her expectantly.
She thought she knew whose phoenix this was. Albus Dumbledore had a phoenix, but she had never seen it up close, or even knew its name. Slowly, Suzanne reached out and retrieved the napkin. On one side of it was a collection of words written in a hurried and disjointed fashion - not by a quill, but by a Muggle pen, which was extremely rare in the Wizarding World. The words were engorged deeply on its surface.
Grindelwald - tomorrow morning - Nurmengard - Windsbach - "along the main river" - do not attack until I disarm him
She stared hard at these words. She thought she knew whose handwriting this was, though it was not as neat as Albus Dumbledore's handwriting normally was.
"What is it?" Gene asked impatiently.
"My God," she muttered, hardly noticing when the phoenix disappeared with another flash of flame.
"What?" her husband repeated with a greater sense of urgency.
She straightened herself. "Grindelwald. It appears no one in the Auror Department will be getting any sleep tonight."
Gene's eyes widened. "Someone's found him?"
"Yes. Yes, I think so."
On display for the entire Auror Department to see were several large maps of Germany - some written in English, others in German. The Aurors were arguing. Some had shown up to the Ministry in their pajamas, apparently thinking they were only be at work for an hour or so. They were swiftly turned to change and get ready for a long night.
"How do we know this really is from Dumbledore? I mean, he isn't the only person in the world that has a phoenix, is he?"
"I recognize that handwriting - that's definitely from Dumbledore."
"But Dumbledore's cracked up - he disappeared without a trace. He left Hogwarts and hasn't shown up for anything."
"Obviously, that's because he went after Grindelwald, and he's found him. Or at least he's found out where he'll be tomorrow. This is definitely genuine."
"Maybe it's a trap. Maybe it isn't because he wants us to stop Grindelwald. Maybe this is a trap to kill us all off so Grindelwald can take control of Britain at last."
"That's ridiculous. Dumbledore was my teacher when I was a kid; there's no way he would ever do something like join Gellert Grindelwald."
"Whether it's real or not, we can't ignore this. If Grindelwald really is going to be in Windsbach tomorrow, we have to be there."
Silence fell.
"You all know I have my children," Suzanne said finally. "I know most of you have your families that are counting on you too. But I am going to visit Windsbach tomorrow. I think the cost of my life is worth it if I have a chance to bring Grindelwald into custody. I am going. However, I will not command nor demand any of you join me. You are an Auror at your own choosing. If you do not come with me, I will not hold any of you at fault. The choice is yours alone."
No one spoke. Everyone turned over these words. No one moved to leave. Then -
"So where is Windsbach exactly?" asked a balding silver-haired man named Dwight.
It was clear everyone would be accompanying Suzanne.
"It's here," a woman named Allison said, pointing to a map. "That's not too far from Nuremburg. Which is exactly -"
"Where we thought it would be. Yes," agreed Dwight. "And Ansbach - that is much smaller than Nuremburg, and Windsbach is even smaller than that -"
"So it would be a way from an obvious target," another man named David said. "The Muggles are bombing the shit out of Nuremburg. Not so with somewhere small like Windsbach. What is the population anyway? Can't be more than a few thousand, right? Definitely less than ten thousand..."
"Grindelwald always said that Nurmengard would never be bombed," Allison said. "Granted, he said that in 1944, but still -"
"A small town along a little river does seem like an odd location, yes," agreed Suzanne. "But it would also be a very safe location, as safe as Nazi Germany can be at the time, at least. I am sure the Muggles cannot see it."
"But the river," said another man, "what river is it along? There are countless numbers of rivers in Germany -"
"This map isn't detailed enough to show the rivers in Windsbach," Suzanne said. "We need to find a more detailed map - I am sure we have one somewhere -"
"I think it's the Danube," someone said. "I think that river runs through there, but I'm not completely sure."
"We need as many maps as we can find -"
The door to the Auror meeting room opened. A young man closed it silently behind him. The Aurors immediately tried to conceal the maps, looking like children hiding something they were not supposed to have. It did not matter that this young man worked for the Daily Prophet; he was not an Auror, so he was an outsider who should have known better than to waltz into an Auror Department meeting uninvented.
"Can I help you?" Suzanne said sternly.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, but -"
"This is a restricted zone -"
"I know, but... well, I know that the Auror Department would only be here this late if it related to Grindelwald, and... I think there's something you might want to know."
The young man put a rough draft of the front page of the Daily Prophet along with a German newspaper. The English title read, 'Dumbledore Joins Grindelwald: The Wizarding German Newspaper Reports.'
"I thought you should know," the young man continued uncertainly, "that the... the - Die Bessere Menschen - I think it is - will be reporting Albus Dumbledore joined Grindelwald days before. As to its validity of such a claim, we can make none, but given Dumbledore's rather mysterious disappearance... we are going to print the story. It is from a reliable source. That is why we are here so late, like you... It should be out this morning, just two or three hours behind the German one."
There was a lengthy pause in which the Aurors stared at the young worker of the press while the young man looked back at them as if hoping the Aurors would tell him it was all a lie. The Aurors did no such thing.
"Thank you," Suzanne said. "Thank you, sir - er - could you perhaps leave the English rough draft or the German one or both? Thank you."
The young man left rather reluctantly, leaving behind both newspapers.
"Do we ask the Daily Prophet to not print the story?" Dwight asked finally.
"No," Suzanne said, her mouth dry. "It is freedom of the press, and if it is already going to be out there in The Better People, it won't be long until the rest of the Wizarding world knows too. As for whether it is true or not, we will find out tomorrow. What time is it there, in Windsbach, right now? Is it really only one hour ahead of us? We need to find that river, find Nurmengard, and prepare for whatever is in store for us there."
The thing that was on Albus Dumbledore's mind last night was not what he thought it would be.
He had been on the border of falling asleep in Gellert's arms, hoping that Gellert would fall asleep, but he, of course, did not. Gellert slowly got up, and Albus let him go without protest. He saw Gellert take his wand and leave wordlessly, but Albus found that he did not even care. He knew it would happen this way anyway. Now, there were two things that were going through his head; two abstract things that he realized he did not understand at all. Those things were forgiveness and hope.
Albus realized he had never truly known what hope was. He had once heard that hope was something that could be found in only the darkest places. People whose lives were only happy, and full, and successful... these people did not know hope because they never have had to cling to hope before. It was the people who had lived in despair, in doubt, in pain, in fear - they knew hope more than a happy person. Hope belongs in the dark places. It resides only along the darkest crevices of the world. No logical person would ever believe that Albus had a single shred of a chance of beating Gellert tomorrow. Yet Albus was clinging to hope.
Forgiveness, however, was the thing that was most on his mind. He didn't know why, but just the word forgiveness made tears fall. He thought about Ariana, his father, his mother, his brother... would they ever forgive him? Could they? Should they? Did he even deserve it? The things he had done. You were ten years old, Albus. You were a child. It wasn't your fault those mothers attacked her. It wasn't your fault your father went after them. It wasn't your fault he died two years later in Azkaban. It wasn't your fault Ariana killed your mother. It wasn't your fault you fell in love with an attractive and manipulative boy. It isn't your fault you're homosexual. You are an imperfect person, but that isn't your fault. They would forgive you. God would forgive you. And you would be forgiven if you fail to stop him tomorrow.
This was the twist in what Albus' greatest desire was - he not only wanted his family together, happy and whole - he wanted them to forgive him more than anything, for the rest of his life, up until the year 1995.
The sun rose like it always did that day. He couldn't see it, as his window only viewed the southwest, but he watched as the sky changed color.
Gellert came in to retrieve him like he had the day before. He gave him his wand back without him having to ask. Albus watched what pocket he took it out of.
"We're having breakfast and then going straight there," said Gellert. "I am done with the Muggle side of the war. Hitler had a nice run, but there is much more to be done. How many British wizards and witches do you think you could convince to support our cause? Or is the Ministry full of Muggle-lovers?"
Albus stood up slowly and brought himself close to Gellert. Wordlessly, he put a hand on Gellert's chest and leaned in and kissed him. Then he slowly brushed his hand downward, to Gellert's left, and the effect was immediate. Gellert grabbed his hand and pushed him away roughly. Albus arranged his face into what he hoped was a hurt expression. Quickly, Gellert seemed to try to cover his tracks.
"Don't do that," he snapped. "You know I can't - and what's the matter with you, anyway? I'm trying to have a discussion with you, and you're still acting like a pathetic, love-struck teenager. Does your brilliant mind ever think of anything else?"
Albus' mouth twitched into a smile. "Not particularly, no."
It looked like Gellert was having a difficult time not smiling now, however tense he was. "Well, you need to work on that. We're going to go eat and then we will leave. While we're in public, do try to control yourself, will you?"
"Yes, Gellert," he replied softly as he followed him out of the room. He had gotten what he was after. He knew which pocket the Elder Wand was in. "And Gellert?" he asked.
"Yes?"
"I love you, you believe me?" Albus said. He knew it was the last time he would say that, so he didn't care how awkward it was.
"Whatever," said Gellert dismissively. "And also," he continued after he had closed the door and they started down the hallway, "I know I haven't given you any newspapers since you arrived, but you might want to see this morning's edition of the Daily Prophet."
"And why is this?" asked Albus, cold dread filling him.
"The press knows you've rejoined the cause. I might've let it slip yesterday."
Albus said nothing. He could just imagine how awful the headlines were - how his students' faces would look.
Nurmengard looked absolutely nothing like he had expected. Windsbach appeared to be peaceful, like something out of a Muggle postcard. The river was stronger than Albus thought it would be, and situated right upon the river was a very tall and dark tower, with a large square building at the front. The tower, even compared to the large square building, was massive. Unlike the Muggle concentration camps, this building was not protected by electric wiring or fencing, and there were no watchtowers waiting for someone to try to escape. This fortress was protected by magic. Albus could see it. The square building at the front was obviously the entrance. It was protected by enchantments, but not as much as the tower was. Albus shivered.
"This is Nurmengard?" he finally asked.
"So it is. What, is it not big enough for you or...?"
"How many people are there imprisoned?"
"Just over two hundred," Gellert replied casually. "Nothing as massive as Dachau, I fear. But then again, I do not have a lot of Wizarding enemies in Germany anymore, so there's no need. Now, when we go for the United Kingdom, then we will need something more."
"Do you work and starve them to death here or is that simply a Muggle concentration camp concept?"
Gellert chuckled. "No, I don't make them work. They simply are thrown in a cell and left to waste away. We feed them, just not a generous amount. Enough to keep them alive, but thin. They stay in one cell until their death."
"Still more humane than Azkaban," said Albus darkly. He looked at their surroundings, hoping that he could get some sign or clue that the Aurors had gotten his message and were watching. He saw absolutely no indication of this. His blood turned cold at the possibility that no one was here. He had instructed them not to interfere, but even if he did manage to snatch the Elder Wand away, he didn't know how injured he would be in the process. And if he was going to die, at least he would not die alone if they were only here. Or would Gellert comfort him as he lay dying at the hand of the Elder Wand's doing?
"Albus, what in the hell are you looking for?"
"Nothing. Nurmengard just looks extraordinarily out of place in this context, that is all."
"That's the whole point. I don't want the Muggles to bomb it into smithereens. I don't think even your magic could make it withstand the weapons the Muggles have invented now. Come on, I'll show it to you."
Albus followed. He was trying to stand behind Gellert, to fall back as if he was simply depending on him to lead him, but it seemed Gellert knew not to have his back turned on him. Albus did not dare reach for his own wand, but he kept his gaze fixed on the pocket the Elder Wand currently resided. He wondered if the Aurors were able to break past the enchantments at the square antechamber to the tower. There was no way possible that they could have broken past that and into the tower. The magical properties, no matter how advanced the Auror department was, were outside of their capabilities. Either the Aurors would be in the antechamber building, or he would be entirely alone.
"I want you to make a speech, or at least a statement, to Britain," said Gellert as the two did an awkward dance where Albus continued to try to fall behind and Gellert refused to keep his back to him. "I don't trust you to write it yourself or anything, but I want you to come up with something and I'll examine it. You're quite popular over there, it seems."
"I used to be."
The square building was a single room with dark walls. It was, except for a large reception area seemingly manned by only two people, nearly completely empty, and Albus thought he had a feeling what it was used for.
Albus continued to walk only slightly behind Gellert. He could hear his heart beating in his ears. He was terrified, and with every step, he felt panic gripping him. He still was not ready - he was not in a good position - but he feared going past the two men at the front because he knew he would be terrifying alone, though he was not sure if the Aurors had even been here...
"Gellert, I'm not sure that we should be killing Muggle children at all," Albus said, not really caring what he was saying. "They might be beneficial to us."
"That's ridiculous," Gellert countered immediately, firing up. "Al, how many fucking times to I have to debate this with you - ?"
Gellert halted ten feet before the two men at the front. He knew something was off - he knew something was wrong - but Albus didn't know what it was - he was running out of time -
Albus drew his wand in one swift movement and thought Accio Elder Wand -
But Gellert was too quick for him. He caught it as it had just appeared flying out of his pocket, and he faced Albus with it raised like the lethal weapon it was. This was exactly what Albus had been trying to avoid this entire time: a duel against one of the most powerful wizards ever to exist brandishing the most powerful wand that had ever existed. All Albus' efforts had been for nothing. There was no undoing this. He let out a scream of frustration and sent another spell at Gellert, which the Elder Wand easily deflected.
"It's a shame," Gellert said shakily, looking very white in the face, "I almost was convinced you were mine again."
Albus sent one, two, three, four curses at him, all in vain. Everything was falling apart, and there was nothing he could do about it. It felt so odd to be the attacker, the aggressor. Albus never attacked anybody; he had never sent curses like this at anyone.
"Stop it," hissed Gellert. "Albus, you can't win, stop it. I'll let you walk away, for old time's sake."
He only responded by sending another curse at him, and this time Albus saw Gellert's arm shake with the shock of deflecting it.
"You idiot! You know you can't win! Do you honestly think I would have ever let you find me if I didn't know it might be the possibility that I will have to kill you? You aren't being noble; you're being suicidal. Don't make me murder you. Walk away!"
Why are you trying to save me? He went another curse at him, and while Gellert was able to deflect it, a deep gash still appeared on his wand arm. He simply looked at Albus for a second as if saying, How could you? Then Gellert responded with a curse of his own, and it was Albus' turn to defend himself.
Then Albus heard a noise, a bird singing, and he knew Fawkes had joined him. He saw a flash of red swoop past Gellert. Gellert's eyes widened as he watched the bird fly around the room in wait, and Albus realized that Gellert was smart enough to be afraid of a phoenix that was not on his side. Most were not.
Gellert turned his attention back to Albus in time to defend himself from the next blow. Then he sent another spell at Albus, and even though Albus knew what nonverbal curse it was, he had never encountered that curse dealing such a serious threat. Albus realized that it was pointless, it was futile, everything Albus tried was not going to work, and now Gellert was not holding back.
"Where did you get the parrot?" asked Gellert as he watched Albus trying to stay upright.
He did not respond. He was throwing more spells at Gellert than he could be cognizant of, but it was pointless - Gellert was able to put each one aside while throwing a few spells at Albus in between. Albus was trying to overwhelm his opponent, but Gellert was not tiring. Fawkes seemed to understand that Albus needed to get that wand out of Gellert's hands, because he soon swooped down and attempted to take it straight from Gellert. That made Gellert very angry, so he then began to send a curse at Fawkes, but the bird disappeared with a flash of flames and then reappeared behind him. Now Gellert had two things he had to try to stop. Finally, Gellert was able to hit Fawkes. The phoenix fell to the ground, a newborn.
Albus knew he was going to die like this.
He was becoming exhausted. Nothing, nothing in all his knowledge of magic was enough for the Elder Wand. He was going to die like this. He wondered if his students would ever know that he had not really joined Grindelwald. He wondered if the Aurors would regret not being here. He wondered how many people were going to die for the greater good with no Albus Dumbledore to stop it.
A curse slipped through Albus' shield - Gellert had just been too fast. Albus knew he didn't recognize what curse this was, but it really would not matter in the end. He felt it hit him in his left arm, and he knew he was already dead. He began to fall to the ground, tremors racking his body. He saw the triumph light Gellert's face, but Albus had one last spell. It was not really a curse - it was only slightly more than a child's jinx. But it was enough. Before Albus lost consciousness, he was dimly aware that Gellert had just fallen to the ground. Figures started to move - the Aurors had come forward. This was how it would be: Dumbledore would die, but Grindelwald had fallen with him. Equals in every regard.
"I don't know this magic," a Healer at St. Mungo's was saying. "Stun him, he's shaking too much -"
"Not even the Aurors know what this is," another said. "No one in the entire Ministry of Magic knows what this is. Odds are, Grindelwald invented it himself."
"It's..." a younger Healer began tentatively, "this is... this is a spell that's attacking his nervous system. That's what the Muggles call it. I - wanted to be a doctor - as a child, before I knew that I was a witch. It's his nervous system. Can't we explore any Muggle medicine that would treat it?"
"Don't be ridiculous -"
"She's not being ridiculous," the first Healer said firmly. "We have no antidote. He is going to die anyway. We might as well try something, in conjunction with what we can do."
"Fine. Fine. We will try."
Albus woke with a start, as if someone had just drenched him in cold water. He did not know where he was, the time, month, or even the year, but he noticed right away that he felt very weak and sick. His distress must have shown, because he then heard a man's voice say, "Calm down. You're fine."
He struggled to sit up high enough to look to his right, where the voice came from. Though he had not seen him in many years, this man at his bedside was clearly his brother. Albus blinked at him, and then he suddenly remembered.
"Where's Grindelwald?" he said suddenly. "What happened - ?"
"It's over," Aberforth said with a familiar scowl. "You're in St. Mungo's. You've really done it this time. All of Britain is currently hero-worshipping you. They're even putting your stupid face on Chocolate Frog cards. You defeated Grindelwald and almost paid with your life. Do you remember at all?"
"Is he - he's not - I didn't kill him, right?"
Aberforth grumbled to himself but managed to not roll his eyes. "No, he's not dead. He's in custody. You both nearly killed one another, from what I've heard anyway."
Aberforth then reached under his chair and snatched a copy of the Daily Prophet. He threw it roughly onto Albus' lap. The header had the largest print Albus had ever seen the newspaper use. The headline read DUMBLEDORE DEFEATS GRINDELWALD in bolded, italicized, and all capital letters. Albus found himself not knowing what to say.
"I reckon you could say you're pretty famous as of late," Aberforth said finally.
Albus swallowed as his brain tried to catch up. "How long have I been out?"
Aberforth's mouth twitched into a smile before saying, "Nearly three weeks."
"Three weeks?"
"Yeah. I told you that you both nearly killed each other, didn't I? Grindelwald hit you with a spell that the Healers have never seen before. It attacked your nervous system, they said. They thought you were going to die. They were so desperate they even gave you some Muggle medicine... I guess something, either magic or Muggle remedy, worked. Or a combination of the two. Notice that twitch in your left hand?"
Albus looked down on his hands that were resting on the newspaper. There was a small but visible tremor in his left hand.
"That's where the spell hit you," Aberforth went on. "It was worse, far worse, when they first brought you in. After you were hit, you somehow hit Grindelwald back, from the ground almost, they say. You both went down together, and that's when the Aurors took over. I guess you were an even match."
Albus swallowed again and said, "Why are you talking to me?"
"Don't know," Aberforth said, sounding indifferent. "When's the last time we talked?"
Albus knew fully that his brother remembered the last time they had "spoken" to one another.
"It was Ariana's funeral," Albus said, "when you yelled at me and then punched me in the face."
Aberforth shrugged. "Thought so. Four decades then."
Albus did not know what to say. He didn't know if he should apologize for Ariana's death or if that would just create additional tension; he didn't know if he should thank his brother for being here with him or if that would make Aberforth uncomfortable, so he opted for silence instead.
"The war's over," Aberforth said as he shuffled through more newspapers. "Wizarding and Muggle ones. Well, the Muggle one is still going a bit, but everyone's saying the fighting's just about over - they're saying it'll come to a close this year. The Allies just have to beat the Japanese. Hitler's dead, so."
"How did - ?"
"He killed himself. I don't know the details of how or why. I guess he just knew he'd lost and he checked out. I have the Muggle papers here," he said as he threw more newspapers on Albus' lap. "I tried reading them, but you know I'm rubbish at it. Maybe you'll understand them, you probably will, you're the brilliant one…. Yep, Hitler lost. And with his mate Grindelwald gone, I guess the bastard just gave up."
Albus sat in silence for several minutes. He then noticed that Aberforth was watching him very intently.
"So, how did you find him – corner him?" Aberforth said finally. "Nobody could find him."
Albus cringed and closed his eyes. "I wrote him a couple of letters."
"Letters," Aberforth echoed.
Albus sighed and reopened his eyes. "Yes, letters. I knew that Grindelwald had the advantage. I knew that if I could get him to trust me again, I might be able to get him while he was looking the other way... I didn't think I would survive a fair fight, but with the lives of millions and immeasurable human suffering resting on the outcome, I was fine with fighting an unfair fight. There would be no honor in it, but he would be imprisoned or dead just the same. I am not exactly proud of it. But it didn't work out. I had to duel him anyway, and I won. I don't know how I won."
"And why," Aberforth said slowly, "do you say Grindelwald had the advantage?"
"He just did," Albus said, not wanting to talk about the Elder Wand that had been Grindelwald's. "Where is his wand, by the way?"
"It's in the drawer of your night stand," Aberforth said, still watching him closely. "You beat him – everyone figured you should do what you want with it."
Albus looked to his left and opened the drawer quickly. There it was, the Elder Wand that he had somehow beat when he wasn't supposed to.
"Just out in the open?" Albus remarked in alarm. He grabbed it and put it in his pocket as if a random mad person would come to grab it from him.
"Don't change the subject," Aberforth said, evidently not realizing how important and dangerous Grindelwald's former wand was. "What kind of letters did you send him to find him?"
"Oh. Well, I sent him letters saying how sorry I was, and that I quit my job at Hogwarts and wanted to join him, and that…" He closed his eyes and cricked his neck. He could not bring himself to say that four letter word.
Aberforth pulled the same face he used to use on Albus whenever that topic came up (it was always Aberforth who brought it up). "That's fucking disgusting," he said, sounding exactly like the fifteen-year-old version of himself who had called Albus names and had broken his nose all those years ago. "And Grindelwald actually believed you were still totally smitten with him?"
"Not exactly," Albus said with his color rising slightly. He could not meet Aberforth's eyes. "Gellert Grindelwald is not – nor has he ever been – unintelligent. He knew there was a good chance – even that it probably was – just a trick to find him and confront him. But Gellert thought it was worth the risk to see if I really did want to join him. He always wanted me – to use me –" Albus interjected when Aberforth pulled the face again, "solely for his own benefit, so he was hoping it was true. He used to say that we would have been unstoppable together. And maybe we might have been. I shudder to think... Gellert also thought that he would win an outright fight, so at worst-case scenario, he thought he would have to kill me. But he had truly believed I would have no chance at beating him. He doesn't..." his voice trailed off and he didn't finish that thought. "In other words, he thought he had nothing to lose and possibly, though a slim chance, he could have a very large gain. I don't know how he didn't win. I should have lost. I don't know how Gellert –"
"So he's 'Gellert' again now, is he?"
"It's shorter than 'Grindelwald,'" Albus murmured.
"Right," Aberforth said, rolling his eyes this time. "But you did have to end up outright battling him anyway."
"He had his back turned and he was busy debating with me," Albus said. "He gets feverish when he's debating things, distracted. But he still caught me. There were Aurors watching us, ready for them to take him after I immobilized him. I had told the Aurors where we would be. I had worked up to this for days."
"Days?" Aberforth said in disbelief. "You had been with Grindelwald for days working up to it?"
"Well, yes. He would have been completely ready if I just showed up, whipped out my wand and tried to hex him, wouldn't he? I tried to earn his trust."
Aberforth seemed tense. "I don't even want to know what happened over those days," he said stiffly.
"I'll take it with me to the grave," Albus mumbled, looking at his left hand.
"Good. Well, I guess ultimately, you did the right thing. It's just a shame…"
That Ariana had to die first, Albus finished in his head. "I know," he said heavily. His brow furrowed and he thought in silence.
"Awake now, are we?" said a woman.
Albus jumped so badly that the newspapers fell onto the floor.
"Sorry," the Healer said as she delicately picked them up for him. She was younger than him but not by much, and she was wearing a sweet smile. "Your nervous system may be a bit – er – exaggerated in the coming months. You nearly died. I'm glad you didn't. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir."
Albus shook hands with her. "Call me Albus," he said awkwardly.
She smiled. "Well, Albus. It looks like we were correct. We thought you would be waking up today. We told your brother here this would be the case, and he came hurrying to your side. How would you like to try to eat something for the first time in three weeks?"
"That's fine with me," he said hesitantly, even though he was not thrilled at the idea. His mind was too blown away with the knowledge that Aberforth had come "hurrying" to his bedside when they had not spoken since they were teenagers.
After she walked away, Aberforth said in a low voice, "Should I tell her she doesn't have a chance with you because you're –"
"No," Albus said sharply. But then he saw that Aberforth was smiling at him for the first time in almost forty-six years. It was contagious. Albus found himself smiling too.
Albus turned his head to see a face he had not seen in many years. A woman with honey-colored hair and a kind face had entered the room. For a moment, the two simply looked at each other. Then Albus breathlessly said, "Fallon."
She hurried toward him, her eyes a bit watery. She threw her arms around him, and Albus could tell that she had completely burst into tears.
"I'm so proud of you," she whispered without letting him go, and Albus felt himself wanting to cry. "I knew that if anybody was going to stop him, it would be you."
She finally released him, but did not take her eyes off him for a long moment. Then she drew up a chair, sat down at his bedside, and clutched his hand.
"You shouldn't be proud of me," Albus finally said. "Believe me, my actions over the past week have not all exactly been heroic. I stopped him, yes, but I still... despite everything..."
"You can't control who you love, Al," she said knowingly. "It doesn't work like that. It's not supposed to work like that."
He did not know what to say, so he simply ran his thumb across her hand in silence.
"He will spend the rest of his life locked away," she said softly. "You spared him his life. Perhaps he will come to regret what he has done, in all those years he will spend in a cell."
Albus shook his head. "No, he won't."
"You never know, Albus."
That was who Fallon was. Perpetual hope. It was just a shame she would die some ten years later of a disease the Wizarding world could not yet cure... she was simply too good for this world.
A/N: Only Albus Dumbledore could have beat the unbeatable wand. You know that he was able to destroy the Horcrux in the ring, but he did not destroy the Ressurrection Stone? That's pretty amazing if you think about it. JK Rowling recently said, "Only Dumbledore could have done that." And so, only Dumbledore could have beat the Elder Wand. I did not want to cheapen the fact that he won it. Give Dumbledore credit for such an impossible feat.
Now I know what carpel tunnel is guys, omg. I'm in pain! I...must... stop. It hurts! Hope you enjoyed!