Grave Matters and Mating Patterns

by Agrafie

What ever happened to the real Percival Graves? Dumbledore intends to find out.

6. Endgame

Chapter 6

Endgame

Dumbledore stood back as Newt knelt down to say goodbye to the young Qilin. They were in a clearing on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest in front of a herd of unicorns- a rare and beautiful sight indeed. Newt was holding back tears. "I'll come see you again soon, I promise." The Qilin nuzzled Newt's palm and made its distinctive trilling sound. After a moment, Newt reluctantly stood up and backed away.

Dumbledore inclined his head towards the fawn and said, "Goodbye, little friend." The Qilin bowed deeply to Dumbledore and then turned around to face the magnificent beasts.

She boldly stepped forward and the unicorns created a half circle around her so they could take stock of this curious creature. Almost instantly, they regarded her with reverence and approval. In the midst of so many pure beings, the Qilin looked like a bobblehead, bowing to each and every one. The herd parted, welcoming the Qilin into their ranks- an unheard of feat for any non-unicorn. She joined the pack and before they departed she turned around to face her human companions once more.

Dumbledore held up a hand and Newt dipped his head slightly while staring meaningfully into the Qilin's eyes. The Qilin stared back and with one last trill she turned to join her new tribe as they disappeared into the forest. Newt started waving frantically at their retreating figures like a parent sending his child off to school for the first time. "Goodbye! Take care of her won't you!"

Newt kept waving even after they had gone. Dumbledore placed his hand on Newt's arm. "They will."

"I know." Newt put his hand down and they headed back towards the castle, but not before taking a detour to the edge of the lake. "You were right, leaving her with them." The frantic waving transferred to neurotic nodding as he tried to console himself. "It wasn't safe for her to return to the wild and they'll protect her." He took a stone and skipped it over the surface of the water until it unfurled midair, revealing itself to be Newt's Swooping Evil. "As much as I would love to, it's not fair to keep her when she has a chance at a normal existence." The Swooping Evil made its way back to Newt like a boomerang, curling itself up in a ball to be thrown again.

"You did what was best for her. I know that was difficult for you and you were incredibly strong." Dumbledore put his hands in his pockets and stared out towards the lake.

Newt got that dreamy look on his face that meant he was thinking about magical beasts. "You know, the Qilin is actually the Asian cousin of the unicorn. It is believed that when their common ancestors were separated the Qilins developed their unique ability to perceive a being's purity in order to find their estranged brethren."

Dumbledore knew this of course, since he was the one who suggested leaving the Qilin with them in the first place, but he tactfully refrained from pointing that out. He knew talking about Magizoology always made Newt feel better. "An extraordinary evolutionary trait, isn't it?"

Newt chucked the Swooping Evil at a harder angle than he meant, causing it to hit the water with a loud plonk and emerge screaming, wings fully spread. This time it didn't return, flying out over the lake, a fact that Newt didn't seem too concerned about. With a huff he said, "Can I just say, and I know this is petty- I know - but I sat there and watched her bow to every last creature in the clearing except me. Can I not get a bow?! I saved her life for Merlin's sake!"

"D'you know, I always thought the same thing." Dumbledore agreed affably.

"I mean, I get the unicorns- they're the most pure beings on the planet- but that's two bows for you now. And the most you ever did for her was stuff her in a suitcase. No offense."

"None taken." Dumbledore patted his friend on the back. "And not for nothing, I know exactly how you feel." Dumbledore finished the rest of his statement under his breath. "As if it's some monumental task getting a wand permit."

Newt didn't quite understand what Dumbledore was referring to but he knew they weren't talking about the Qilin anymore and he was glad of the distraction. "So, I heard you found Percival Graves."

"Yes, fortunately I was able to work it out. Who else knows about that?"

"Well, Theseus was the one who told me." He looked sideways at Dumbledore. "Not to mention Jacob and Queenie… and Tina. Oh, and Professor Hicks, too."

"So the whole gang, huh?"

"It was pretty big news in the papers for a while. Not your involvement necessarily but once Theseus told me about how you left the morning after the wedding it became fairly obvious."

"I suppose it's not much of a secret."

"I heard you've been spending a lot of time together."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "Does the whole world know about that as well?"

"No, just us."

"Yes, it seems we've become fast friends." Dumbledore smiled to himself. "At least, when he's not mad at me for beating him at chess. Which is most of the time."

"So it's just friendly then?"

Dumbledore's head turned sharply in Newt's direction. "What else would it be?"

"Oh, I don't know, something more?" Newt wasn't trying to overstep but he wasn't going to let Dumbledore off the hook. He suspected a swift kick in the butt may be what his friend needed.

"I'm afraid that's all behind me now. I've chosen to dedicate my life to Hogwarts and more noble pursuits."

Newt flared up at this. "All you do is preach about love and yet you deny it for yourself!"

"I'm trying to save people from the same fate I've relegated myself to." Dumbledore had the look of a long-suffering man.

"It doesn't have to be a life sentence, Dumbledore! You have the ability to free yourself from this self-imposed prison." Newt entreated.

"You don't understand. Terrible things happen when I let my guard down." The mere idea seemed to haunt him.

"When you put your heart in the right place, wonderful things can happen. You can rise to such heights that even someone as clever as you couldn't imagine."

"It's just…" Dumbledore stared into the lake, its dark depths reflecting in his eyes. Fear, Newt recognized. He had never seen it on Dumbledore before. "Absolutely terrifying."

"I know." It was Newt's turn to place a comforting hand on Dumbledore's shoulder. Without taking his eyes off the water, Newt said something he had never said out loud before. "I'm in love with the Head of the American Auror Office, of all people."

Dumbledore let out a sympathetic chuckle. "They do have a way about them, don't they?"

"I never thought I'd say this- and I'd die before I admitted it to Theseus- but yes, they really do." Newt agreed.

"We'll just tell him it doesn't extend to the British Auror Office."

They both laughed and then sighed and stared off into the sunset.

oOo

Graves was sitting at the bar of the Hog's Head Inn staring at the bowl of chunky sludge in front of him. Aberforth was standing across from him polishing glasses. A more striking contrast you could not find between two men. Graves, well-groomed as always, cut an attractive figure in his expensive, custom-made suit (dark grey this time with a maroon shirt) and Aberforth… well, Aberforth looked like a homeless scamp. He eyed Graves suspiciously.

With a sniff he asked, "You're my brother's friend?"

"Yes, Percival Graves."

This is where a civilized person would've responded with their own name. "How'd you meet?"

Graves paused a beat, debating how to answer. "He dug me out of the ground." He decided to go with the truth. As unbelievable as it sounded, it may be taken as a joke anyway.

"Pfft. He's always doing stuff like that. Bloody obnoxious, isn't it?"

Graves raised a quizzical brow. "He saved me from an eternity of torture so no, not really." He replied dryly.

"Yeah, that's what they all say." With another disinterested sniff, Aberforth went back to wiping his glass until a more intriguing topic of conversation came to mind. "Listen, if you ever want some good spells against him, I know all of his least favorites." He finished with a wink.

Graves had no idea how to take this. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Don't listen to Aberforth, he's got a peculiar sense of humor." Dumbledore came up from behind Graves and grabbed his hand pulling him away from the bar and heading up the stairs.

Aberforth yelled after them. "Who's gonna pay for this soup?!"

Dumbledore shouted back down. "Put it on my tab!"

Grumbling came from below but there was no other follow-up.

"I can't believe you two are related."

"I assure you, neither can we." Once they reached the hallway, Dumbledore looked around. "Which room are you in?"

"Last door on the right." Graves nodded in that direction and was immediately dragged down the hall. Dumbledore pressed Graves' palm against the door knob so they could gain entry. The door popped open instantly and Dumbledore ushered Graves into his own room.

"Be my guest." Graves muttered as he entered, Dumbledore following behind and shutting the door. "What's gotten into you?"

"I have something I want to say to you." Dumbledore said, looking anxious and eager.

"I do too, actually." Graves took advantage of the opening before Dumbledore could continue. "I want to apologize for my behavior during our last few visits. I was being childish. I know it's just a game and I was overreacting." Dumbledore looked like he wanted to argue but Graves held up his hand. "It's just that, silly as it may sound, chess means a lot to me. I've played it my whole life and when I was stuck in that box, thinking about chess was the only thing that kept me from going completely insane. I would see the moves in my head as clear as if the board were right in front of me. It was the only thing that distracted me from the mind-numbing agony of being stuck in there. It let me forget for a second and feel halfway normal."

Dumbledore- moved by Graves' admission- could contain himself no longer. "When I was a boy, I was involved in an intimate relationship with Gellert Grindelwald. We were as close as two people could be; it was as if our very souls were one. Then it all came crashing down. That's how I was able to find you. I'm infinitely acquainted with the inner workings of his mind."

Whatever Graves was expecting, it certainly wasn't that. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees and propping his chin up on clasped hands. His eyes were distant, caught up in their own calculation.

Dumbledore was experiencing his own kind of agony, waiting for what seemed like an eternity for Graves to react. "Won't you say something?"

"That's why you couldn't fight him. Let me guess, an unbreakable vow?"

"Blood oath."

"Of course, how romantic. And you, what? Shared a passion for Ancient Egyptian burial rituals?"

"I came across a book in the forbidden section of the library during my seventh year at Hogwarts. A kind of pseudoscientific historical reimagining of how magic was used in Ancient Egypt. It was posited that wizards and muggles worked in harmony to create extremely advanced spells that would be nearly impossible to reproduce in this day and age. Using the muggles' knowledge of astronomy and trigonometry, every witch and wizard in the area would've pooled their ability together at precisely the right moment in space and time to create massively powerful spells. The preservation spell used on the burial tombs being just one of them."

"You were the one who told him about it."

"You have to understand I had no thought that he ever would or could use it himself. The magic was long gone. It was one small example amongst many in what, to me, was nothing more than an intellectual discussion."

Graves' eye twitched at the word small. "But something must've given you that idea, otherwise you never would've come looking for me."

"He made a passing comment once that stood out in my mind. He wondered what would happen if you put a living being in such a tomb."

"Well, you're looking at it." Graves said with one of his humorless smiles. "What made you think I would be the unfortunate victim? Wouldn't it have made more sense for him to just kill me rather than risk my return?"

"After he had taken some time to study you, disposing of you probably would've been the ultimate outcome but I suppose it was a matter of being in the right place at the right time. Or the wrong place at the wrong time, depending on how you look at it. With the arrival of the Egyptian tomb around the time of your disappearance, I think it would've been too tempting of an opportunity for him to pass up. As I said before, it was just a hunch."

"I guess I should consider myself lucky that you knew him so well. You know what's funny?" Graves asked, rubbing his chest like he was in pain. "I suspected you two were together back when he first started to make waves. Why else would the great Albus Dumbledore not face down the biggest threat to the wizarding world in centuries? Sure, it was common knowledge you two were friends when you were young but no one could make the leap that there could be anything beyond that, they were too close-minded. But I could. And then I went and got myself captured and thrown in a coffin and I forgot my old theories and I met you and I let my own feelings cloud my judgment. Sloppy for a former head of security and law enforcement, I know, but you must excuse me, I'm a bit rusty. After seeing you operate, up close and personal- as frustrating as it can be at times- I thought this man could never be fooled by the likes of Grindelwald. Maybe the rest of us- he certainly got the best of me- but not you. You're too formidable, too all-knowing, too untouchable."

"I'm still just a man." Dumbledore put his hands out before dropping them at his sides.

"There's something I'm having trouble reconciling." Graves, though still pained, was a man on a mission. His old instincts were kicking in. He stood up and began to pace the room. "I had thought the timing was a bit strange. Why come looking for me after six years? Considering how easily you were able to figure it out once you set your mind to it, it's something that should've either happened right away or not at all. So what was the significance of six years?"

"There was a lot going on and I honestly didn't think about the real Percival Graves until I saw that newspaper article." It may sound harsh but it was true and Dumbledore didn't want to sugar-coat it.

"Ah, but there was something else, I believe, of much greater significance than that article. Front-page worthy, in fact. Something happened in Bhutan that changed everything. Sure, the American papers downplayed your role in the whole thing but I spoke to a few people who were present at the event. It seems there was a moment when you crossed wands with Grindelwald and you two disappeared for a fraction of a second. Am I correct in thinking you were somehow able to break the pact and no longer be tied to him?"

Dumbledore's voice was just above a whisper. "Yes."

"So what finally did it?"

"My brother and I intercepted one of his killing curses. I was seeking to protect and he was seeking to destroy. Incidentally, it was a similar scenario that ended us the first time."

"That's just it, the first time." Graves said, finding something key in those words. "Maybe you haven't been together since you were kids, but you only just now broke up. Even with all the destruction he was causing- killing all those people, amassing a huge following, gaining more and more power, even something as small as kidnapping me and throwing me in a tomb- you still belonged to him. And some part of you must not have wanted to let him go. Otherwise, I find it hard to believe that with the right incentive you, Albus, couldn't figure out how to break a blood oath."

Dumbledore looked tired now and it was his turn to sit on the bed. He took off his jacket and laid it next to him. "Ah yes, one of the drawbacks of being able to achieve the impossible is that everyone expects you to do it all the time. As if it's so simple." Dumbledore shook his head, laughing solemnly. "I've had that same debate in my head. I must not be trying hard enough, must not be looking in the right places. The answer is out there waiting for me to find, I just have to persist. Unlike unbreakable vows there is some precedence for blood oaths being broken but one of the problems with blood oaths is that they're all different. The circumstances under which they're made are unique to each case and therefore, so are the conditions under which they can be broken. Even if you have some idea, fate is not something you can engineer so easily. Believe me, I've tried."

Graves pulled a chair over from the corner and set it across from Dumbledore so he could listen more intently. He sat down and Dumbledore continued.

"I wish it had been an unbreakable vow. An unbreakable vow doesn't care what your intentions are, it only cares that the job gets done. For a blood oath, you use your own blood to create the vow so it's a part of you. It knows what's in your heart and even the slightest deviation from the oath sets it off. How do you move against someone when even the mere notion could kill you? I haven't been allowed to think my own thoughts for the last 30 years. And my feelings? I had to shut them off."

"So how do you think about taking down Grindelwald without thinking about taking down Grindelwald?"

"In very small increments. I had to take the long road since I couldn't act directly, and I had to play very complicated mind games with myself where I had to remain in a state of selective delusion that I wasn't up to anything while at the same time putting the pieces in place to bring about his ultimate defeat. I think the one thing that saved me was the sliver of doubt that was present in my heart when we made the oath in the first place. It allowed me the thinnest margin to be able to spawn these thoughts before I had to immediately sever the intention from the action and send it on its way. I had to do it before I was even aware I was doing it or else all was lost."

Graves could only shake his head at the sheer mental gymnastics that must've entailed. He was not without compassion for the man's plight but he had to keep going. "So then Grindelwald must've had the same problem. How do you suppose he dealt with it?"

"I don't think deluding himself has ever been much of a problem for him. He was probably able to compartmentalize the Obscurial plot fairly easily." There was the barest hint of sadness in Dumbeldore's eyes.

"And when you two disappeared for that instant, what happened there?"

"We fought."

"And how did that go?"

"We reached a stalemate and it seemed imprudent to continue in light of the Qilin ceremony."

"And you just let him go?"

"I didn't have it in me to fight after that. It was a goodbye of sorts."

Graves' voice found its edge again. "Well, I hope Grindelwald's future victims understand that you didn't get rid of him when you had the chance because you were too busy caught up in a tearful goodbye."

"Neither one of us was gaining any ground and it would've been a wasted effort to keep going. Not to mention dangerous if it escalated with so many people in such close proximity on a mountaintop. Sometimes the best decision is to retreat and regroup, even if it's not the most popular one. I have to live with all the choices I make and this one is no different."

"You have to live with it while other people have to die with it."

"Now you're starting to sound like my brother." Dumbledore said with a rueful smile, not able to resist sharing his observation.

"Then I didn't give him enough credit." Graves wasn't done being angry. "So why rescue me? Were you atoning for the fact that you introduced him to the tombs in the first place?"

Dumbledore reared back with self-righteous indignation. "Am I supposed to feel bad about that?" He scoffed. "I won't apologize for introducing him to those tombs because that's what kept you alive!"

"Oh, well then let me be doubly in your debt." He said with a sarcastic bow of the head. "Then what was I? Some charity case you picked up because you felt guilty that your lover hijacked my life? Or were you just trying to get back at him?!"

"No." Dumbledore answered simply. "When I saw that picture of you in the paper I saw a piece of myself and I felt an incomprehensible connection to you. He had taken something from both of us and we had each suffered at his hands. I thought you may be the one person who understands. Maybe it was selfish but I think when I looked at you, I saw my own salvation."

"Sadly, the list of people who understand what it is to suffer at his hands is a long one. Or it would be if he hadn't had most of them killed." A shadow fell over Graves' face. "So how do you feel now that we've actually met?"

"That I was right."

They stared at each other for a brief moment, Dumbledore as sure as ever and Graves looking dubious. He couldn't stand Dumbledore's gaze any longer and broke the contact, looking down at the floor. He struggled internally for a long time, shaking his head periodically before he finally spoke. "Well, I hate to disappoint you but I'm not fit to save anyone."

"That's bollocks." Dumbledore curled up his lip in disgust. "Complete and utter bollocks."

Dumbledore's words cut through Graves' angst like a knife, inciting him to anger once more. "Is it? Do you feel saved?!"

"If you would pull your head out of your arse for long enough then maybe you could see how much you've helped me!" Dumbledore was brought to his feet by the force of his emotions.

Graves stood up to get in Dumbledore's face. "Forgive me if I'm still reeling from my return to the land of the living. We can't all bounce back so easily!" In what must've been a moment of insanity, he actually shoved Dumbledore.

Dumbledore eyed him like a bear who had just been poked. "Oh, are we school children now?"

"What's the matter, old man? You forget what it's like to be young?"

"We're practically the same age and you know it!" Despite his earlier censure, Dumbledore shoved him back, with considerably more force than Graves had used on him. Graves toppled over the chair and went crashing to the floor. He got up on one elbow and glared at Dumbledore with a crazed satisfaction.

"Struck a nerve, have we? It's nice to see a chink in the armor!" Graves shot up, disappearing in a flash and reappearing right in front of Dumbledore, tackling him over the bed.

Dumbledore, who had initially felt sorry for knocking Graves over, lost all sense of guilt when his back hit the floor, followed closely by Graves' full weight on top of him. A wrestling match ensued with both men trying to get the upper hand, eliciting a series of grunts and growls.

"You are being absolutely ridiculous." Dumbledore said through gritted teeth, as Graves' shoulder was smashing his jaw into the floor.

"Well then go ahead and stop me!" Graves said as he tightened his hold around Dumbledore's head, pushing off the ground to send more pressure downward.

"I could stop this in an instant if I wanted to." He was palming Graves' face now, pushing it away with his outstretched hand.

"Then do it!" Came Graves' muffled reply. When the webbing of Dumbledore's hand crossed in front of his mouth he saw his chance.

"You bit me!" Dumbledore cried out, not so much in pain as disbelief.

"What's wrong, Dumbledore? You don't like it when people play dirty?!" His voice was clear now that Dumbledore had removed the offending appendage.

In a burst of rage, Dumbledore bench-pressed Graves off and pounced on him. He was broader and beefier than Graves so he knew he had the weight advantage, enough to hold him down without expending too much effort.

"I'll have you know, the Qilin selected me for my pureness of heart." Dumbledore replied, adjusting his jaw back in place now that it had been liberated.

Graves kept his arms outstretched to prevent Dumbledore from completely closing the distance and crushing him. "Then it's never seen you play chess!"

"You're just a sore loser!" Dumbledore flopped forward, buckling Graves' arms and collapsing on top of him.

"And you're the most insufferable winner I've ever met!"

Dumbledore was breathing hard and took this opportunity to sprawl out and rest. "Oh believe me, I have to hold a lot back. It could be so much worse."

Dumbledore's break was short-lived, as Graves immediately started squirming and bucking underneath him. "If I had to resort to cheating to win I wouldn't gloat about it!"

"It's called thinking outside the box!" Dumbledore said, holding on like he was riding a wild animal. "And if I was a cheater, you think I'd be above gloating?!"

"Obviously not!"

"You're just being a baby!"

"Sorry if I'm not as mature as you!"

"I don't want you to be like me, you peenarse! I want you to be like you!" Somehow, Graves had managed to jam his knee in between them and used it to lift Dumbledore off of him so he could hold him at arm's length once again. With the new space that created, Dumbledore was able to look down at him and say, "I want you."

While Dumbledore had his guard down, Graves swept him to the side and got on top. Straddling him, he pinned Dumbledore's hands over his head. Dumbledore was no longer putting up a fight. Whatever victory Graves felt was quickly washed away by the look of surrender on Dumbledore's face. Graves had been so caught up in the heat of the exchange that he was only just now processing what Dumbledore had said.

Both men were panting and dripping in sweat. Graves sat up and wiped his face with the back of his hand. "I didn't think you accepted defeat."

"If accepting defeat gets me what I want then I'll do it."

Graves grabbed the knot on Dumbledore's tie and pulled him up so they were face to face, Graves hovering slightly above due to his position in Dumbledore's lap. "And you want me?"

"Yes."

They stared at each other, Dumbledore's answer hanging thickly in the air between them, no chance of denying it now. Just as the tension was becoming too much for him to bear, the moment was interrupted by a transparent goat coming through the closed door. Both men turned to look at it.

"Is that a goat?" Graves asked, confused.

"It's Aberforth. He must have a message for me."

Graves got up and held a hand out to help Dumbledore to his feet, which the other man accepted. They both dusted themselves off and adjusted their clothing before Dumbledore opened the door. He looked down to find a note with the initials AD on it. He opened it and read Aberforth's messy scrawl. 'Gone to see to my boy. Lock the bar when you leave.'

"Is everything ok?" Graves asked.

"He went to see his son. He wants me to lock up when I leave." Dumbledore sighed, seeming a bit dejected. "I guess I better get going anyway." He turned slightly to grab his jacket when Graves slammed the door in his face, barring the exit with his arm.

"He said when you leave." Dumbledore turned to Graves, taken aback by the sudden action. "You're not leaving yet." Graves looked almost upset with him as his lips came crashing into Dumbledore's. Dumbledore quickly got over his shock and returned the gesture with all the energy of a dam bursting.

It became a tangled frenzy as their hands competed to cover as much surface area as possible, bodies pressing together to eliminate any space between them. As they jockeyed for position, Dumbledore backed Graves up against the wall. Graves' eyes flashed open for a second and he apparated them to the opposite wall, eliciting an 'oomph' from Dumbledore.

"Sorry, I have a thing about being trapped now."

"Oh, of course. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." Graves said before reclaiming Dumbledore's lips with his own.

Graves grabbed both of Dumbledore's wrists and pinned them behind his back before transferring them to one hand so he could use his other one to unbutton Dumbledore's vest. His movements were deft and efficient. Dumbledore tried flexing his wrists to see how secure they were and was surprised to find he couldn't immediately move them. Recalling the way Graves had banged on his door during their last visit, Dumbledore said, "For a wizard, you sure know a lot of muggle police techniques."

Graves smiled as he finished the vest. "When I was an Auror I worked undercover as a cop for a while."

"That explains a lot about you."

"Like what?" Graves asked as he loosened the knot on Dumbledore's tie.

"You don't solely rely on magic like so many of us do."

Graves considered this. "I suppose I like to feel the effort of certain things." With the knot undone, he pulled Dumbledore's tie off.

"It's admirable. You're not completely helpless without magic."

The corners of Graves' mouth turned up slightly before his expression became unreadable. He flipped Dumbledore around and shoved him up against the wall. "You been up to any suspicious activities tonight, sir?" Graves asked with an authoritative air as he untucked Dumbeldore's shirt rather aggressively.

"No, Officer, just some good wholesome fun." Dumbledore's response was a bit strained as Graves flipped him around again and slammed him into a hard surface for the umpteenth time that night.

"Too rough?" His voice held a mixture of apology, amusement and desire to know the truth. He kept his hold on Dumbledore's wrists and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Nothing that a little Skel-Gro couldn't fix."

Graves chuckled, finishing the last button and opening Dumbledore's shirt. He gave a low whistle. "Well hello, Professor. You've been hiding that under your sweater vests all this time?"

Dumbledore grinned at him mischievously. "One can never be too careful around a man in a cardigan."

"This is going to change the way I profile people."

Graves ran his hand over Dumbledore's exposed torso, eyeing it hungrily. He bent his head to bite the flesh there, causing Dumbledore to shudder under his touch. With an impatient groan Graves brought his lips back up to Dumbledore's, placing his hand on the front of Dumbledore's pants. Dumbledore inhaled sharply and pulled his mouth away.

"It's been a really long time."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Graves said with a laugh as his mouth made its way down to Dumbledore's neck. "I don't even know if this thing works anymore."

"No I mean, it's been a really, really long time." Graves stopped what he was doing and pulled his head back so he could see Dumbledore's face. The beard hid some of the effect but Graves could make out the rosy cheeks and averted gaze. He looked so vulnerable that it made Graves' chest swell.

"You're enough. I don't need anyone else here but you." His voice was unwavering and he waited for Dumbledore's eyes to meet his, pinning him with a look that was as sincere as it was brief before getting back to business. "I was only half joking anyway. My body was in survival mode for so long it kind of shut down all unnecessary human functions." Graves' tone was light but Dumbledore's mouth hung open in dismay. Graves shut it by giving him a quick, reassuring kiss. "It'll be ok." He said before shrugging out of his holster. "Now come on, this is either gonna take forever or it'll be really quick." That made them both laugh.

Dumbledore set to work unbuttoning Graves' vest, fingers fumbling as he struggled to remove the pocket watch chain attached.

Graves tilted his head at him. "What, no magic? Maybe you want to get your glove to do it?" He teased.

Dumbledore smirked but continued what he was doing. "No. I want to feel this."

Graves wasn't expecting such an earnest answer and it stirred something deep inside him.

After some more fumbling, Dumbledore surprised him again by looking back up and saying, "But next time, definitely," causing them to laugh again.

They endeavored to put an end to their mutual dry spell, something for which no other counter-spell existed (though to be fair, no one had ever tried Finite Incantatem for such an affliction). They would've been hard-pressed to answer which of Graves' prophecies came true since time had seemed to stand still at certain points and speed up at others but it made no difference to them either way. They were just enjoying the weight and feel of each other. When it was all over they collapsed on the bed in a sweaty heap.

"I never thought I'd feel that again." Graves let out a pure, unadulterated laugh, wiping a wayward tear from the corner of his eye.

"I'm just waiting for my soul to return to my body." Dumbledore exhaled in a state of debilitated contentment. Now that the more pressing matters had been dealt with, he was able to take stock of their surroundings. "I hope you weren't staying here on my account. There are much more comfortable inns in town."

"Actually Theseus was the one who recommended it to me and I'm beginning to think he was messing with me. He also strongly suggested that I get the soup and that looked like something you dig out of the sewer."

Dumbledore laughed. "That one might surprise you. It looks awful but it's actually quite delicious."

"Then maybe there's still some left. I'm starving."

"We can check downstairs if you want. I'll add it to my tab along with the other one."

"What, no family privileges?"

Dumbledore laughed again. "No. In fact, your association with me can only be a detriment to you here."

"Is it too late to pretend I don't know you?"

"Present circumstances excluded, he did send a note addressed to me to your room so I'd say the cat's pretty well out of the bag."

"So he doesn't mind then?"

This caught Dumbledore off guard but he caught Graves' meaning. "Mind? No. Not unless you're planning on inciting a global wizarding war with me."

"Now I'm beginning to think the world is praising the wrong brother."

"He's twice the man I am. Is there anyone in your life who would mind?"

"Not for a long time now." He answered before changing the subject. "Whose idea was it to use your Patronuses like that? I saw Roisin do it in the infirmary too."

"Oh, that was something I came up with a while back. It seemed faster and more reliable than sending an owl. It may not be able to convey the same amount of information but that information can't be intercepted either."

Graves looked contemplative. "It's pretty ingenious. And it would be near impossible to replicate someone else's so you know exactly who it's coming from."

"What would yours be I wonder? A zebra?" Dumbledore joked, alluding to Graves' two favorite colors.

Graves smiled. "No, but you have the right idea."

"How about on the count of three we produce our Patronuses?"

Graves sat up eagerly. "Let's do it."

They each stuck out their hands and within seconds were holding their wands. They looked at each other and counted to three. On three, they shot out their Patronuses, Dumbledore producing his phoenix and Graves revealing a crow. The men looked awestruck as the two birds flew around each other in a silvery whirlwind.

Dumbledore turned to Graves, seeing an opportunity to even the score a little. "Who's the old crow now?"

"Nice try, old man." Graves dismissed the comment out of hand, causing Dumbledore to wilt a little. "Of course you have a phoenix. I'm the one who came back from the dead, if anyone should have a phoenix it's me." He grumbled, though he was clearly impressed.

"My family has a deep connection with phoenixes dating back to my great-great-grandfather. We were told that a phoenix will come to a Dumbledore in need and I've seen it happen with my own eyes now."

"And Aberforth gets a goat?"

"He's taken it upon himself to forge an even greater bond with goats." Graves scrunched up his face, not wanting to know to what extent that statement was true. Dumbledore added, "And he's as stubborn as one."

Graves lifted one of Dumbledore's arms so he could lay his head on his stomach. Dumbledore reached for one of his hands and Graves clasped it against his chest."You two may not be as different as I thought then."

Dumbledore looked surprised by the comment but laughed. "This from the man who threatened to duel me from his hospital bed?"

"I was preserving my sense of dignity."

"How dignified could you be after I wiped the floor with you?"

"I'd rather go out fighting than lose my personal autonomy."

"Oh, how very American of you. Freedom with a puritanical streak a mile wide."

"Would you prefer if I were less principled? I know you like unscrupulous men."

Dumbledore froze like he had been struck. Graves immediately sat up to look at him. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Never apologize for saying what you feel." Hurt though he was, Dumbledore couldn't really refute that. "I've been guilty of looking the other way in the past."

"What did he take from you?" Graves asked. Since they were there, they may as well stay there.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows at the question. "My family. It's because of him that my sister is dead and my brother barely speaks to me. And quite possibly why we never got to know his son who is now doomed to die a violent death because he grew up around people who taught him to hate who he was."

Graves remained silent for a moment. "That's awful. I'm sorry to hear that." He said with genuine feeling.

"We Dumbledores are quite isolated, you see. We hail from a long illustrious line of exceptional witches and wizards and now it's all going to come to a screeching halt with Aberforth and me."

Of all the possible reactions, guffawing laughter did not rank high up on Dumbledore's list. Graves took one look at his face and tried to suppress it. "I'm sorry, it's just that you have no idea how much I relate to that." Having produced the only acceptable explanation, Dumbledore put his hackles down and Graves returned to his resting position. "You never know. There's still time to churn out an heir."

Dumbledore snorted. "Unless Aberforth can find a way to mate with a goat I'd say we're pretty well over."

"Too bad one of us wasn't a woman. We could've saved both our lines in one go." Graves joked offhandedly.

"Well, there's always human transfiguration."

Graves glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, looking disturbed by the whole idea. "Well I'm not great with kids so that would have to be you." Nonetheless, his curiosity got the best of him. "Has that ever been attempted before?"

"Attempted? I'm sure. Succeeded? Not as far as I know. Not only would your transfiguration skills have to be exemplary but you'd have to have a thorough understanding of the female reproductive system. And by thorough, I mean on a cellular level. You'd also have to be able to keep that up for the entire duration of the pregnancy. I imagine changing back for even a small amount of time would smother the fetus. Even the best transfigurer in the world would still have trouble maintaining that in his sleep."

This led Graves down a different train of thought. "Did he ever come to you as me?"

Dumbledore looked at the top of Graves' head in surprise before giving his honest answer. "No. I would've known it was him instantly. But…I may have let him pretend for a while."

Graves turned his head so he could see Dumbledore's face. "I'm not sure if I should be jealous or flattered."

Dumbledore took the hand he was holding and put it against his own chest, forcing Graves to move closer. "I would rather fight with you on your worst day, than glory with him on his best."

Graves gave him a kiss and then laid his head back down. "Big surprise. If there's one thing I've learned about you it's that you like a fight."

Dumbledore scoffed but was amused by this assessment. "You don't become best in the world without a fight or two. If there's one thing I've learned about you it's not to mess with your chess." His cocky smile twisted into a devilish grin. "Unless I want a fight."

Graves shook his head. "Someone needs to keep your ego in check."

"Well, we both know that won't be you. You can't keep me in check to save your life."

There was a prickly pause before Dumbledore was tackled to the floor for the second time that day.

The End

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. Please review when you have a chance, I would love to know what you think about it. I'm debating writing more for this but I can't gauge the level of interest. It was fun to write regardless.