Photograph
By Montley
"Have a nice night, Albus," Minerva said with a sad smile on her normally stern features.
"And you as well, Minerva," Albus reciprocated solemnly. Then Minerva left the Headmaster's office without a second glance and with one final sweep of her emerald cloak, the door opening and then closing shut behind her.
Albus sighed deeply in his seat as he leaned back in his chair and gave a final pet to Fawkes, who gave him a small, chilling coo in return. He knew that Minerva was distraught and angry at him for being so foolish yet again. He smiled slightly at his blackened hand knowing that Minerva was always right.
Yet the foolishness had sprung from his days as a teenager; it was even hard for him nowadays to imagine himself young and without a beard gracing him. He let out a small chuckle, remembering the long years growing the beard to get it to its perfect length.
At the thought of his years as a young man, the old man dug through his belongings in his desk drawer, feeling around for it, an item he had held onto for so long, close to a century.
The years he kept it with him had done slight damage to it; it was bent and torn slightly at its dingy corners, which used to be a pure white. The photo was a clean black and white with dirt specs across the image. Yet, it did not take away from the beauty that Albus knew it possessed for the long years it had existed. He smiled at it as his beard brushed its bottom. He held it for a moment against his ever-beating heart, yearning for those days to return, even for just a small moment, before he had turned on him, before he had left him behind. Young Gellert Grindelwald.
He stared at it; the photograph showed him as a young man with his shoulder length auburn hair, and it was a time when no beard had been growing on his chin, just a few untamed whiskers. Gellert Grindelwald was next to him, his blonde hair styled perfectly upon his head, magnifying his sharp features, his bright eyes shining out of the picture, as they always did. Albus swore he could stare at Gellert's eyes for hours and still be amazed by the alluring, iridescent blue they were, taking him far away from responsibility and Godric's Hallow. Their arms were around each other's shoulders, smiling and laughing like the friends they had used to be.
How Albus wished they still were.
Not long after they had met, or rather, it did not feel long, his sister died tragically within the chaos of his fight with his brother, Aberforth. along with Gellert. Poor Ariana, so young and fragile, and here Albus was, at the ripe old age of one-hundred and fourteen. He had lived for far too long, and she had lived for far too little.
Yet he knew that his time was coming to an end, for his hand was cursed, blackened and broken. It was strange how he was reminded of Gellert at this time, for his time with Gellert was full of regrets, regrets of not starting anything and losing him to the darkness, even though at that point he was headed there himself.
His eyes drifted back to the picture, and he smiled, simply thankful for the time he had had with Gellert. Thankful for the boy who brought him back alive even though that same boy was now rotting in Nurmenguard at Albus' hand.
Albus was simply thankful for experiencing love, a pure type of magic.
A/N: This was for:
HP Potions Competition: Developing Solution
Wand Wood Competition: Pear