It was nice, this feeling of trust. Receiving it was nice also, Albus had always been hungry to be trusted by the people around him. Acknowledge him, accept him for what he is, understand him. And trust him, to help, to listen, to understand back. But he found that giving trust was even better. And he was glad to find that he remembered how it worked, even though the last time he had trusted someone implicitly must have been before his father's idiocy had taken place.

His mind was put at ease, he didn't have to think and doubt the other's intentions all the time. He could just kick back and relax, enjoy the situation. He never wanted it to end.

He knew it would end, of course, Nerya had told him from the first that she had to go. And he thought sometimes that he should have guessed it himself. If Elves could stay on Earth, then why did they abandon it? Or why was there no sign of them, not one theory – even conspiracy theory- about their existence? Nerya's people didn't come here often and there would have to be a reason for that. But most of all, what he had told Nerya was true; she obviously loved her home very much to be away from it for long. Even too much, Albus had thought sometimes, given how she didn't really have strong connections with the people there.

And who would prefer to live on Earth after knowing what it was like to live in such a bright, beautiful place as Aman? No, Albus didn't need an explanation for her preference; and he didn't need an explanation about why she wanted to escape it for a while, either, because he himself would love to be able to escape the same old, miserable, stupid society he grew up in.

Let alone how the topic really seemed to distress Nerya a lot.

So Albus chose to forget that Nerya would be leaving at some point in the future. The 5th of January was 4 days away from the Revelation Morn, and he knew that when term started and the students returned, things wouldn't be as easy as they were now. So they had to make the most of it, cherish the present as much as they could. The fact that Nerya would have to leave might not be a matter of immediate concern for quite some time. Not even Merlin would know what may happen until then. So Albus chose to focus on the here and now, used all his meticulousness and willpower to bury the unnerving truth as far out of reach as he could. It was a talent of his after all.

Elven folklore was ever-present any day, and Albus remembered how Nerya had said that her language was made for poetry. So Nerya introduced him to the Song of Beren and Luthien, a poem written more than 12 thousand years ago. "They're your ancestors?" Albus laughed. And Nerya obliged him with a brief description of the line of the Half-Elven.

"Beren was a human of the First Age, descendent of the noble Edain House of Bëor." She intoned dramatically.

"Edain?"

"Fathers of Men."

"You'll tell me later." Albus put it aside.

Nerya agreed with a 'that would be for the best' look.

''Now, Beren and a half Elf, half Maia, Lúthien Tinúviel, had a son, Dior. The poem will regale their story far better than I'm able to. For now just remember that Dior's daughter, Elwing, married Earendil-"

"Is that the Eӓrendil you keep appealing to?" Albus interrupted and Nerya gave him a guilty smile. "Another ancestor, honestly Nerya, nepotism is one thing but this borders on religious devotion…" Albus teased her.

Nerya laughed, Albus wasn't wrong at that. She felt the familiar bittersweet feeling envelop her, as it always did when she talked about her family. She knew the topic was very close to her reasons for returning to Aman, but she found herself wanting to speak of her family, she wanted Albus to know. About the… other matter, she had the urge to speak of it, but found she had no strength to actually get on to it. In this way at least she was setting the foundations; she knew that eventually she would have to say it. Until then though, she really didn't want to think of it, thank you very much, and the gratitude she felt for Albus respecting that was immense.

"And Eӓrendil wasn't even immortal." she deadpanned. "His mother was mostly of the Noldor, but his father was a descendent of another noble Edain House."

"I like it how you bastardize, but you keep to nobility at the same time." Albus mused with a faint smile.

Nerya smirked and raised an imposing finger to underline the importance of her words. "We prove that snobbism is congenital to Men, Elves and Maia alike." They shared a laugh. "So, Earendil and Elwing had two sons. Those two sons were Pereldar, Half-Elven, since they belonged both to men and to elves, and they were given the choice; they were free to decide in which race they would belong."

"How could they just choose?" Albus asked, perturbed.

"The Valar…" Nerya smiled ruefully.

"Gods." Albus shook his head. "I need to get used to the fact thatGodsare something real, visible, tangible, where you're from." Albus took a deep breath, while Nerya was shaking from mirth. Albus was soon aware of it and he rolled his eyes at her, but soon he was chuckling as well. "So, how were they called?"

"Elros was one; he chose the fate of Men and became the first King of Númenor, another story for another time;" she 'put it away' with a gesture of her hands, "thus beginning the line of the Númenórean, who were humans," she reconsidered, "well, humans plus some elvish traits,"

"Augmented humans?" Albus chipped in helpfully.

Nerya snorted. "Excellent! So, the Númenórean or Dúnedain or High Men was a line of men that would last until the third age, although admittedly their Elvish traits would weaken through the ages and would also develop a snobbism of their own, being more pronounced in noble houses than poor little commoners. Earendil's other son is called Elrond and he is my grandfather; he chose immortality. Elrond married Celebrian, daughter of Galadriel, I see you remember them." She smiled when Albus nodded. "Elladan and Elrohir were the last surviving children of Elrond, when the Elves retreated to the Undying Lands. Arwen, their sister, chose to abandon her Elvish nature in order to remain with her husband, Aragorn, who was one of the augmented humans. One of the last remaining Dunedain, in fact. He was actually Elros' distant descendent, so indirectly, he was related to Luthien and Beren, as well." She rolled her eyes. "How history-"

"-Repeats itself." Albus finished with a smirk. "They had elvish blood, but what did that practically mean?" Albus was about to take parchment and quill to write all this down.

Nerya smiled to herself. "From what I've read, they were usually wiser and more noble in appearance than an average man. Their bodies were stronger and taller too, for some reason;" she shrugged, as she brainstormed. "They didn't get sick easily, at least with ailments that tormented normal men. Their lifespans were a bit longer than normal, as well." Her voice trailed off when Albus stilled.

"Wizards live a bit longer than muggles as well…" Albus commented, lost in thought and wonder, the mad glee of suspected discovery turning the serene blue of his eyes into a wild storm, a surge of waves. Nerya could almost feel the smack of salty water on her face.

"Oh…" she exclaimed softly, eyes wide. "So your people don't know how the Wizardkind came to be?" She quickly stated more than asked, getting his drift.

"Wild theories, but nothing certain…" Albus whispered conspiratorially, overtaken by the wonder the possibility held, as he turned his heavy seas on her. "No one knows how magic found its way to the human blood." They made quite a sight, as they unblinkingly gazed at each other, their mouths slack and drawn into grins, while an entire conversation was taking place without either of them uttering a word.

Then Nerya suddenly pursed her lips to contain the laughter that had come unbidden at a thought, her torso shaking by mirth. Albus widened his eyes even more, if that was possible, in question.

"You understand of course that… if, if" she intoned, "that's true," she continued as clearly as she could.

"if our magic is somehow a gift from Aragorn and Arwen…" Albus prompted her impatiently.

"then we…" she gestured between them, laughter bursting out of her, "in a very, enormously remote and infinitesimal way," she conceded, "we are…" her voice was drowned by choking chuckles.

Albus' jaw dropped, in wonder, awe and a bit of terror. "Holy motherfucking crap-" he detached every syllable in incredulity.

They cackled so hard at the irony the possibility held, they almost fell from their seats.

Albus slumped back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, drying the tears from his eyes. "Isn't it heart-breaking we'll never know?" They locked eyes and snorted once more. Albus shook his head. "So, Arwen stayed, but you showed me no memory of Elrohir, so I assume he stayed too?"

Nerya cleared her throat, a smile still tugging her lips. "No, not really. Although both he and my father had considered to remain with their sister; they were of a somewhat rogue nature, you see. Adventurers, they preferred to be out roaming the land than stay in and read or rule. And they were very fond of Earth. They delayed their departure for as long as they could, but in the end they decided to leave Earth as well. But, Elrohir was killed in a stupid accident with some drunken humans in an inn, just before they reached the harbour where their ship was waiting for them; so Elladan went to Aman alone, without his twin. It was a big blow for him and he is still waiting for Elrohir to return from the Halls of Mandos."

"Oh, don't tell me that even when you do die, you do not stay dead." Albus lamented hoarsely.

Nerya let out a giggle. "If Mandos, the Ainu responsible for the Elves' Fëa, the spirit, decides that you are fully redeemed, that you have contemplated upon your life and you're ready to be re-embodied, then you get an new Hröa, body in Quenya. Then you may leave his Halls and return to the land of the living." She stated, with all due playfulness.

Albus closed his mouth shut and swallowed. Nerya snickered at him. Albus rolled his eyes but a smile was covering his face. "So that leaves us Elladan, your father…"

"Indeed, he married my Mother in Aman, about… a uuh, half a century ago? Time is weird with us. Anyway, about his marriage, that's peculiar you see; usually one marries young, probably their childhood sweetheart, and has a child or two in quick succession. He kind of broke the rule, there." Nerya murmured, and Albus could see her mind was wandering.

"So, I take it that your society is also very specific when it comes to marriage etiquettes?" Albus asked, his brows furrowed.

Nerya's eyes focused at him slowly and she scoffed. "That's putting it mildly." she sneered.

"Worse than here?" Albus asked, and he would have been amused at the sourness that screwed up her face, but there was something indiscernibly wrong about her, something very un-Nerya-ish.

Nerya took her time to answer, Albus knew she was reminiscing about beautiful things, judging by how her expression was softening more every second. "We can be brilliantly open-minded when we want, we can be so wise and kind." She said finally, smiling fondly.

"Your father married a Moriquendi." Albus reasoned.

Nerya's smile faltered. "Exceptions can happen." She said dismissively. "But." She sighed, and screwed up her face again. "Like every society, we need something common to keep us in harmony, because if everyone started thinking for themselves then we would never be able to co-exist." she said quickly, "I get that, I understand the importance of rules and values and norms and etiquettes, really I do, but…" Nerya turned to Albus again, and his bittersweet, understanding smile, made her chuckle softly.

"Most of the time, it's ok, it works, because most of us just understand the importance and are able to follow the rules;" Nerya sneered at the words, "but what if someone didn't fit in the norm from the first, or if they simply weren't made like that! They're still expected to follow the damn etiquette!" Nerya seemed almost exasperated. "We have outcasts, weak few, people who for some reason don't comply with the norm, same as you do. Is it befitting of us to pressure someone who is practically an outcast to be integrated into a society if they don't want to?"

"That is very human of you." Albus confirmed.

"You're disappointed in us now, aren't you?" Nerya cried out and Albus chuckled. Nerya's face relaxed somewhat, as she chuckled lightly too. "Shouldn't we, of all people, consider those outcasts as well? Those who can't or don't want to behave according to what most people do. But we choose to forego our wisdom when it challenges the rules and values that ensure our society's integrity; in that we're very much like you. All for seniority, the previous generation knows better, the younger must do as they're told." She mocked a deep professorly voice. "That's why we exist; we who strive to remain untainted." A smile broke out on Nerya's face, as she fondly turned her gaze on Albus.

Albus smiled back. "We who know both how society expects us to be, and how we truly are."

"We who know how to bend the rules to our advantage…" she said quietly, but her smile seemed strained and absent somehow. Albus wondered; was it about her own life, or was she so agitated for someone else?

"At least, there isn't a thing out there that we, the strong few, can't wriggle our way out of." Albus murmured, searching her face. Nerya nodded in agreement but the sigh that escaped her was heavier than reasonable. "Is that about your father?" Albus asked, trying to perceive a reason behind Nerya's heavy mood.

Nerya furrowed her nose, as if she had smelled something foul. "He didn't bend anything. Circumstances favoured my father; there was the war and then the departure and then his brother's death. So my family didn't want to pressure him for anything and he himself was definitely not in the mood for marriages and children and… stuff like that. And when my mother came into the picture, my family couldn't really say no to the only person that made my father laugh again, after a long time."

"So he tied the knot in the end, and with a Silvan no less." Albus stated, studying her intently.

It wasn't exactly sadness that had taken hold of her; it was more like a weight had landed on her shoulders, she seemed… tired. Tired and less bright than usual. Ah, her Mother. Albus wondered internally. She was a Silvan, one of the few, maybe the weak few, even? Maybe she was the outcast who was forced into propriety, because the aristocrat fell in love with her? That would explain why Nerya was always passionate about the weak few. In any case, there was no reason to continue on a topic that made her sad. Albus' family was a difficult topic for him too, after all.

"Better get to the poem, don't you think?"

Nerya's eyes shot to find his.

"But with one condition, if you wouldn't mind." Albus feigned seriousness, a tentative smile broke on Nerya's face. "The poem, you will firstly recite in Quenya."

They exchanged a smile and a knowing look, and then she got to it.

And so she did, with more verve and passion as every lyric came out of her mouth, and Albus was entranced by the mellowness of her native language, even though he didn't understand a single word. Nerya laughed internally in adoration when a wild hunger appeared in his sparkling blue eyes, because she was sure he was trying to work out the basics of the language already. Then she translated it to English as best as she could.

The poem was analysed and admired, and both ended up with their heads fallen back, completely relaxed on their seats, secretly relishing the other's body warmth next to their skin; they were sated as if they had stuffed their mouths with the best made Fëa st.

"How can you know English so well?" Albus wondered after a bit of silence. Nerya turned her head towards him, her face relaxed and covered with a small smile. "You came to earth in the 1st of September, you said," he started thinking out loud, "you spent three weeks in the Leaky Cauldron, getting the hang of things, but when you came here, your English were perfect; such a short period of time isn't enough to learn an entire language so well! Translation spell?" Albus guessed, turning his head lazily towards her.

Nerya smiled. "You've asked me before, and I didn't entirely lie to you."

"Your parents wanted you to learn English?" Albus raised a brow in intense disbelief.

A bitter, throaty chuckle escaped Nerya. "No, no, no, ha! that's good." She took a deep breath as her head slumped back, her eyes returning to the ceiling. "They expected of me to be a meticulous student in general, that's probably the only thing in which I haven't disappointed them." She said wryly, grinning widely still. "What I was being a meticulous student about, that's another thing entirely." She wiggled her brows mischievously.

Albus chuckled lightly. He knew that her parents had great expectations from her, but disappointed? Something ferocious was unleashed inside his chest. Nerya had said she wasn't an easy child, she had shared from the first how she had grown up feeling lonely and detached from her surroundings. Albus could understand, could relate. And that made his anger on people's insularity worse.

"Albus, you seem to be boiling." Nerya's silent quip reached him.

Albus jumped out of his thoughts. "I was thinking about how self-centred people can be, especially those who claim to love us." He said, and wasn't surprised at how spontaneously the words came out of him.

Nerya's face hardened, mirrored his, something cold and arrogant took over her expression. They looked at each other unblinkingly for several moments, until Nerya blinked, swallowed her bitterness for the world, and focused on her wild joy that Albus was not a part of it.

"It's unpractical to keep it against them however." she said, trying to keep her voice smooth. Albus' face relaxed slowly as well, Nerya continued. "You can't think straight when you're angry."

Albus sighed, the smile returning to his lips the more he gazed at Nerya. "So you studied about Earth and humans?" He returned to their previous subject, his voice quiet but steady.

Nerya nodded and smiled.

"Why?" Albus asked, bemused.

"Not how?" Nerya asked back, amusedly puzzled.

"I know from personal experience that if someone wants to learn about something, the means will present themselves if they look hard enough." Albus replied dismissively and Nerya smirked in agreement. "What I find weird is this: why would you care? You, Elves and you, Nerya in particular?"

"Well, most of us don't." Nerya replied. "The answer to both questions starts with my father's father,"

"The great Elrond," he chipped in pompously.

She let out a giggle. "Well, he is one of those rulers who always took the mantra 'information is power' very seriously. He doesn't like to be caught unawares, you see, so he keeps an eye out. Now why exactly he deems it important, one can only guess," she continued playfully, "but one of his favourite pastimes seems to be spying on our old homeland and its inhabitants; we're literally a universe away, still…"

"Old habits die hard." Albus stated quietly.

Nerya inclined her head in agreement, sighed. "Additionaly, I suspect he misses the old troubles sometimes… He had a leading role in Earth's politics when he was here… He was the sire of the Last Homely House East of the Sea…" her palm drew a bow in the air to underline the gravity of such a title. "And I know from personal experience how diverting humans can be…" she added slyly, stealing a side-glance to Albus.

"Glad to be of use." Albus inclined his head as a laugh escaped him, causing chuckles from them both. "So he…?"

"So, he makes sure he's up to date with the general outline of your politics, culture, religions. You know, how you're holding up and what keeps you occupied."

"He's an amateur anthropologist?" Albus chuckled in incredulity.

Nerya's jaw fell, her eyes widened, as she pretended to be utterly shocked. "Don't let him hear you call him an amateur." she whispered. "He'll drag you to his study and show you every tome and book he has on the matter; his own personal journals!" they chuckled, then a fond smile spread on Nerya's face. "Oh, his library… A mighty library, ooh, you would absolutely adore it." she whispered greedily.

"The bigger the better." Albus replied salaciously.

She wiggled her brows in response and smiled, something of her tiredness returning again. "You know too well how books are an addiction, a refuge, a way out, and as much as I love Aman sometimes I really felt like running away. Earth seemed so beautiful and serene and blue," she gave a dramatic, fond sigh, and followed Albus into chuckling, "so I did my research; Europe was thriving, and since English is the modern choice of language and Latin is the gateway to more, I got to work…"

"Morgana! You know Latin as well?"

"Paucis…" she replied cockily.

"For me that's the biggest argument that you're not human." Albus commented nonchalantly. "Most inhabitants of this castle don't even know a little."

She mimicked his tone. "Us Elves, we have infuriatingly too much time to kill."

They usually stayed up until late at night; long after the common room had emptied, sitting side by side at the couch near the fireplace. The way the orange flames Fëa tured Albus' ginger hair and made his pale face light up in a wonderful, mystical way had Nerya melting. But on their last free night, while he was talking about his father and sister, the blue eyes that would have taken the fire into a battle for brightness and win, had seemed dimmer in the semi darkness.

Albus had started telling a funny story from his childhood, Fëa turing his father and sister trying to fix something on the roof and how his mother had reacted when she had seen Arianna balancing precariously near the edge. They had laughed at the imaginative way his mother had managed to make plain words into the most heavy, painful swearing Albus had ever heard.

"He truly was a brainless hot-tempered piece of rusty tin, not trustworthy enough to find slugs after a heavy rain." Albus had smilingly sighed when most of their laughing had subsided. "And that's what got him killed in the end." His tone was full of mirth still.

At that, Nerya sobered up; she understood of course that Albus' lightness in the matter was a very well-rehearsed façade, which he wore constantly, probably even when he was alone with his thoughts. She contemplated whether she could ask the question that had been dancing in the edge of her tongue these past few days; a question she had avoided because she didn't want to force Albus into discussing something that was obviously very difficult for him, even at the expense of her own curiosity. Also, at first they had given priority to what she had to say, and Nerya was relieved about that, because she had wanted to prove to Albus beyond doubt that she deserved his trust.

But Albus had mentioned his family more times in these last four days than he had done in the last three months, at least to Nerya's knowledge. So Nerya, wishing and hoping she wouldn't cause him any discomfort, decided to proceed with it.

"Can I ask, how did he die?" Her voice was gentle.

"Are you sure you want to hear such a long and uninteresting tale?"

She would say he was dodging the topic for his sake, if she didn't have the nagging suspicion that he was being very, very honest in this question.

"You say uninteresting, but how can that be, since it's an important matter of your past. And I find you extremely interesting," she grinned, "therefore so I do your past. But if you're too…" she shot him a look, "bored, then there's no need."

Albus huffed a smile and shook his head fondly.

And then, in a conversational tone, as if they were gossiping about someone else's life and he wasn't sharing a difficult past, he told her the story of the attack against Arianna and his father's retaliation. After all the talks they had about wizards and muggles and the delicate situation between them, she could understand very well why Albus didn't like to talk about it in public.

After Albus finished his tale, he stayed gazing the flames in front of them, the absent smile in his face seemed weirdly strained.

"So he wasn't a muggle-hater and yet he was condemned as one… and all that in protection of your sister. He must have been a very strong man to have endured all this, and without being able to defend his actions too…" Nerya replied gently, after a while.

She saw a shadow momentarily cover his face, even though she was only able to see his profile. He acknowledged her statement with a smirk and a nonchalant sound. He intertwined his fingers on his lap. On the light of the fire Nerya could see his knuckles gradually tightening more and more.

Albus didn't think that his father's behaviour had anything admirable in it. His hot temper had gotten the better of him, as it had usually done, and that left Albus too ashamed to face the wizarding world, no matter how efficiently he hid it and managed to appear at ease. He had hated it when pure-bloods had come up to him to congratulate him for his family's 'correct ideals'. He had hated the well-wishers surrounding him with pity. He had hated his father every time he saw his mother alone, carrying an entire family on her shoulders; such a brilliant mind, condemned to child-caring, cut off from the rest of the world. His remembering was interrupted by soft hands holding his own.

Nerya had kneeled on the floor in front of him and was searching his eyes, a bit intently, but radiating with light. "I know it's a cliché, but nevertheless it appears to be true and you know it: we all make mistakes." Her tone simple to the point of dismissive.

His lips curled, much like when something amused him. "My father didn't just… make a mistake." Albus dragged the words in a silent tone, glancing away from her in tired disdain.

Nerya's hands slided off his. His creased eyes, the blue in them for the first time reminding Nerya of ice, locked on hers, his head was tilted slightly. He spoke slowly and softly, almost whispering, and his lips were forming a small smile, but she could feel anger radiating of him. It was a peculiar sight, Albus being angry like that.

"He chose revenge over his family. He stigmatized us as muggle-haters and condemned himself to a lifetime in a despicable place, where he was no bloody use to anyone and where he, soon afterwards, died." A grin pulled his lips, but it had nothing of the warmness it usually held.

Nerya was sitting on her heels where she had settled on the floor, her hands were on her lap. She had sat watching him with a puzzled expression while he talked and she continued to do so after he was done. 'It's amazing,' she was thinking to herself, 'how reason means nothing when one is hurting. What can I say to him, that he doesn't already know?'

Albus' breath was a bit uneven now and he was fidgeting under her studying gaze, which he was obviously trying not to meet. At some point he crossed his hands against his chest and finally looked at Nerya. She wore a frown and she was studying him, without pity or reprimand, but like he was a riddle she couldn't figure out. When he spoke again, he tried to keep his voice even and his tone conversational.

"You presented him like something of a victim. If he is the victim, if he sacrificed himse- well, you didn't say he sacrificed himself-" Albus shook his head to get to his point, "if he made a mistake and endured the consequences, then what does that make my mother?" He had raised a hand and had settled his mouth against it, in an effort to play it cool and conceal his nerves. His brows were raised in question, but he knew his eyes conveyed more aggressiveness than he would have liked.

Nerya's expression however remained the same. Albus pressed his palm on his eyes, trying to relax. "I am sorry. I didn't mean to…" he exhaled shakily, "to…" .

He felt Nerya's hands touch his knees. "For what are you apologising exactly?" She punctuated the words 'for what' with a genuinely inquisitive voice. He looked down to find puzzled violet eyes waiting patiently for an answer, again conveying nothing but curiosity. He was confused at that. He searched around for an answer. After a while he turned back at her.

"I-I am not used to talking about all this. I… I must have sounded somewhat… aggressive?" He screwed his face inquiringly.

Nerya's face now conveyed incredulity. "Well, it would be weird if you hadn't, since this matter has obviously caused you a lot of pain and I suppose you have been keeping it bottled up for years…!"

Albus joined her in her incredulity. He was left speechless, again. How could this delicious creature do that to him? He tried to analyse it. How had he expected Nerya to react? Before now he had better things to think about than his father, he hadn't really organised a plan to tell her, he had just left it to chance, ready for the opportunity to rise for him to tell her everything. But her reaction surprised him a bit. No pity? No pestering speeches about how he should not blame his father, or at least about how he should not be so touchy about it?

"You know how I love to study your expressions– the latter part of the Revelation Morn was quite a treat to that…" Nerya had settled in her backside now, knees brought to her chin and a smirk playing on her lips. "But I can't help thinking that if you continue like this you are going to explode. Care to share with the class?"

Upon her first word, Albus had come back on earth and he had held his breath at her sight. She was positively radiant, even with the light of the fire coming from behind her. He drank her in, awestruck. He felt his mind lift into pure bliss. He felt his lips draw up in a grin and a sigh of a laugh escaped him.

"You really are something else, you know." he mumbled, almost to himself.

"Ah, Mr Dumbledore," her expression was positively sassy, "I thought we had established that."

They both chuckled, their eyes never leaving each other.

"So you really have no comments to make?" Albus asked in silent wonder.

Nerya's smile faltered somewhat, as she considered his words. "What's the point?" she said after a sigh. "What is there to say? That revenge is stupid, because it always backfires, hurting you and everything you hold dear? Or that grief is a terrible, terrible thing?" she shook her head negatively and settled her gaze on him, her lips quirked up in one side, bittersweetly. "I am sure that anything I could say, your wonderful mind has already analysed." A shadow passed through her face. "We all have our grieves. The bitterness and pain are not going to go away, no matter what I'll say." Her smile returned with a vengeance. "And I trust your mind enough for everything else. So the only thing that remains is whether you would like to say anything more…?" she asked expectantly.

Albus cracked a playful smile "If you stick around forever, I might not need to say anything ever again." They both chuckled at that, faces burning with blushes and excitement.

"I do have one question though." Albus said quietly after a few silent moments, a smile still curling his lips.

"Pray, ask away." she said fondly.

"How come you hadn't heard all about it already? It is after all a very juicy tale."

"I couldn't help but hear some half mumblings, generalities." Nerya conceded. "Leela Parkins attacked me one day, wanting to tell me the entire story, but I knew it would probably be a load of hippogriffshit, if you'll pardon my borrowed expression," they shared a chuckle, "so I managed to wriggle out of it."

Albus was looking at her fondly bemused. "What did your creepy interest for human dissection had to say about that?"

"I like playing fair! You couldn't have access to a third party to learn my lifestory, so I didn't want to cheat."

"Only that?" he looked at her in amused suspicion.

Nerya studied him for a beat. "Well, I also had suspected from the close-mouthed manner you adopted in public when your family was mentioned that you prefer not talking about it."

"You are my superior, then." he replied with a fond smile. "I don't think something like that would have stopped me. I even borrowed the book-"

"Oh, will you shut up about it already?" Nerya exclaimed. "I love your efforts for Gryffindorian chivalry and you know it, but will you stop with the dramatics? You studied me, as was your right, and you might have resolved in-" Nerya tried to contain her mirth, "Filthy Half-Breeds and How to Eliminate them," laughter won out in the end, as images of a very red-faced Albus returning the book played in her mind's eye, "but you never pressured me, and you seem to conveniently forget that the moment you saw me feeling awkward you immediately called back your troupes!" Nerya would have been angry if she wasn't amused.

Albus was looking at her wide-eyed, but his chest was shaking with mirth unlaughed. They shared a knowing look and both snorted into laughter. "Troupes" Albus was trying to mumble amongst his cackling, shaking his head. "Excellent wording as usual."

Still rocked by silent chuckles, Nerya picked up the previous matter. "Difficult topic then?"

He sighed, watching her fondly. "With most people it is."

"How many are we?" she raised a brow.

"One?"

Nerya was startled, amusement turning to awe and elation. She was his only confidante, like he was hers.

"I mean, most people know from gossip and newspapers; more gossip, that is." Albus explained, eyes searching away. "I have only said some general things to Elphias… The only ones who actually know everything is my family. And-"

"There lies the biggest difficulty of them all." Nerya said in one breath.

Albus nodded, turning to look at her with a sweet smile.

"Thank you for listening, Nerya."

Nerya's eyes roamed his face.

"Thank you for sharing, Albus."

They both smiled at each other adoringly.

A/N: 1) I'm always all for creative doubt and analysis, especially in regard to one's feelings and thoughts, but sometimes I find that someone believing in our ability to manage and stating so, can be a brilliant first step in untangling those topics most painful. Your thoughts?

2) About Elladan and Elrohir, Tolkien never clarified what they did. I've found in forums that they delayed their departure for as long as they could, but Tolkien never said if they left or stayed. So, everything after that is me improvising…