"You see, Albus, if we overthrow the Muggles, the economy WILL flourish, as The Ministries all over the world won't be spending as much money on Obliviators and such." Gellert grinned at Albus. "Every wizard and witch's life will improve!"
Albus tickled his own chin with his quill. His clipped auburn hair was neat and clean, and his skin was smooth and acne-free. His cheekbones were high, and his jaw strong. Beneath his shirt he bore toned, strong muscles.
"But won't the Obliviators suddenly go jobless?" he queried, forehead burrowed in concentration.
"Good point. But, with the blundering fools gone, jobs shall open up! At worst, the Obliviators can retrain-perhaps at Durmstrang?"
Albus sighed and shook his head. "You and Durmstrang. Why don't you just go and marry the old school?"
"Albus, I can think of many things more worth marrying." Gellert's flirtacious looks at Albus made clear exactly what he meant. It pulled his mocha skin taut over his cheeks, making Albus want to run his lips over that fine, dark jaw.
"Oh, Gellert. One day, perhaps. One day..."
Gellert leaned in close, and the lovers shared a passionate kiss. Gellert slowly grabbed Albus' hips and pulled them closer to his own.
Albus pulled away.
"No, Gellert! I can hear something!"
There was a yelp, and a scuffling of floorboards.
"Aberforth! The little peasant!" whispered Albus angrily.
"It's alright, Albus. There's no-one he can tell. You'll be fine. No one need ever know."
"But what about your great aunt? Won't she mind?"
"Oh, Albus. My reputation can no longer be any more tarnished. But yours can." Gellert leaned closer to Albus' ear, making Albus break out in goosebumps. "I love you too much to let that happen though."
"Oh, Gellert. I wish we could show the world what we have. I don't want to hide it anymore!" murmured Albus.
"No, Albus. It can never be. We are forbidden, and not just because of who we love. You are a great wizard, and I can feel you are destined for great things. Me? I-I am a shipwreck. I shall probably die young, and forgotten. We should never have met." Gellert curled into a ball on the bed, and silent tears began to roll down his cheeks.
"Oh, Gellert..." whispered Albus, drawing close. "I don't care what destiny wants for us. I don't care about my reputation. I just care about us."
"Albus, we never should have met. You know it. I regret coming to England. For now we are in love, and there's nothing we can do..." Gellert's accent became more pronounced with each sob.
Albus stroked Gellert's back, and suddenly stilled. He softly padded to the door, and threw it open. Albus' gangly brother, Aberforth stood in the doorway, looking shocked.
"Y-you! A-and him! How could you? It's unnatural, disgusting! What would mother think?"
"I don't know, Aberforth. I don't. But, what would she say if she knew about your goats?"
Albus immediately wished he could take back the words. Aberforth stood completely still on the doorway, glaring at his brother.
As if lightning had struck him, he let out a yell.
" MY OWN BROTHER! IT'S A CRIME AGAINST NATURE! A-AND THEN YOU BETRAY ME! JUST LIKE THAT! IT'S NOT TRUE, IT'S NOT, YOU KNOW IT!"
"Aberforth, calm down. You don't understand."
"YES I DO!" A thin wail sounded from the living room.
"Oh no!" Aberforth gasped, consumed with a mix of rage and guilt. Without another word, he rushed down to Ariana.
"I'm so sorry, Albus. I've torn your family apart. Your brother is right. It's unnatural. But-but I'm so sure it's love..."
"He isn't right. What we have may not be natural, but it's so good. It must be love, Gellert, it must be."
The boys embraced, hard and long.
"I shall return to Great-aunt's now. Come with me. Stay the night. Let your brother sort out his head."
Albus smiled sadly.
"Sounds fine."
The two sauntered out the door, enjoying the sun and breeze on the short walk. Hand in hand, they let themselves into Gellert's Aunt Bathilda's. They wandered up to her spare room, where Gellert slept, and let the conversation meander until Gellert leaned in to Albus, and began to run his lips over the nape of his neck.
Albus moaned, as Gellert began to stroke his waist, his hips, closer and closer to where Albus needed him.

Chapter 2
Next morning, Albus walked home under the cover of darkness-there was no need to, Bathilda thought the world of him, and Aberforth would still be asleep, but Albus loved the night. The velvety dark that pushed at your eyes, the cool, slightly damp feeling that quietened all worries, and made you live in the here and now.

He pushed open the door to the Dumbledore house gently, making sure not to make a squeak. If Aberforth woke up...well, that would not end well. But there was no need. Aberforth sat by the hearth, close. Ariana was nowhere to be seen. Albus walked up beside Aberforth, looking him over. There were tear stains on his cheeks and chin.
"Aberforth?"
Aberforth looked up, his face clouded with grief and pain.
"What's wrong?"
A sob wracked Aberforth's chest.
"Ariana-she could feel I was unhappy. I went to buy some bread, and I came back, and the house was-it was awful. She was sitting in the corner, scared as anything, and she was holding mother's pipe-her meerschaum. And then i reached for her, but she ran away, and wasn't looking, and crashed into the cupboard."
Aberforth let out a cry.
Albus held his brother tight. Aberforth let him.
"Was she alright?"
"Yeah, b-but mother's pipe was...destroyed."
Albus stifled a cry. The pipe was the only thing of Kendra's that remained. And now...it was gone.
The two huddled like penguins by the fireplace, until Aberforth's sobs subsided and he curled in foetal ball on the sofa.
Albus fought a sigh. Kendra's death hadn't seemed real when it happened. But now...now it was like a kick in the face. Albus thought to himself for a minute. He should go and visit Ariana, make sure she was alright.
Albus hated talking to Ariana. It wasn't who she was, it was the fact they had so little in common...but now, she would feel just as bad as he would. The gaping chasm between them was nowhere near as big as the one that Kendra had left inside them both at her death. Carefully, Albus advanced the stairs to Ariana's room. He knocked lightly, and her quiet, cliped voice replied "Come in."
Albus slowly pushed open the door, where Ariana sat at the edge of the bed, overtaken by grief.
"Hey, Ari..." Albus hadn't called Ariana 'Ari' since she was about 6, but it felt immature and sweet and good to say, and immature and sweet and good to hear.
"Albus..." she whispered, and trailed off. "I'm sorry-I'm just so sorry."
"Oh, Ari, it's alright. I know..." Albus pulled out too late. Although he hadn't said the words, they hung in the air between them, the words that were as painful to hear as they were to say-'you can't help it.'
She looked to him, pale and gaunt. Albus knew, in that second, she didn't want to talk about it now. She didn't want to talk about it ever. He stood to leave.
"Albus?"
"Yes, Ariana."
"I know-I've known-about you and Gellert. For a while now, too."
"I'm sorry, Ariana. You wouldn-"
"I do, Albus. I don't care who it is you love. I know-I know my opinion doesn't mean much to you, but, as long as you love him, and he loves you, I support you." she finished quietly.
Albus wordlessly walked over, and held her shoulder.
"Thank you, Ariana. Thank you."
He exited the room.