#magicblooms

With the chaos of a recently graduated Tom Riddle sent out into the world, and the ministry breathing that much more down Albus Dumbledore's neck for the last few weeks after he'd been forced on "administrative leave" by the ministry while he was in their custody for the last several weeks, beaten and tortured until he gave into their demands to duel Gellert Grindelwald once more. He knew his husband's actions had grown more horrific over the years that even he could not ignore, and between that, the torture...

He had accepted.

The ministry was unaware of his possession of the resurrection stone, given to him by Flamel in case things turn for the worst in that duel. He's made enough potion to live out the next fifty years with himself and his wife- Should Albus not come home from this. Days before, he had sent out a letter. Part of him hoped it did not make it to him, or he would simply ignore his ridiculous quest for a final duel, to see who would finally come out on top. Or, in the ministries eyes.. If good would triumph over evil.

For the greater good.

Days later, he had anxiously arrived at that location, dressed in his usual attire. His wand was grasped tightly in his hand, other shoved in his pocket, wrapped tightly around the stone in his pocket. He had used illusion charms to hide what a wreck he really looked like, after what the ministry had put him through for the last several weeks. In his weakened state he might've still been quite the formidable opponent- But the ministries underestimated Grindelwald when it came to Dumbledore. He truly didn't know who would triumph this time. He hoped so desperately that the letter had not made it, or he would refuse.

But when was luck ever on Albus Dumbledore's side? @magicblooms

There were few people in Godric's Hollow who knew that there was a third Dumbledore sibling.

Of course, everyone knew the eldest, Albus, a very intelligent and polite young man by all means. And everyone also knew the younger, Ariana, a sweet young girl seldom seen without a smile, a few years younger than her brother. They both went off to a fancy school every September, and as far as most were aware, had left their mother Kendra home alone until the holidays rolled around.

Almost nobody knew about Aberforth. And now Kendra was gone.

Middle child, he'd never been to school, spent most of his time either inside or curled among the goats, the darkness that curled inside him soothed a little by their gentle presence, by the familiarity of nature. Though since Kendra's death, he'd spent more time hiding away in his room, only seldomly coaxed out by Ariana. Today though, the house quiet, he had ventured out, padding down the stairs in bare feet to seek out something to eat.

The younger felt pain as his jaw was grabbed and he was forced to look into the other's eyes. He should be used to this treatment from anyone, but he was not, as he looked in growing fear that he did something wrong.

Gellert,

You certainly have the Wizarding World in quite an uproar. This is the eighth day consecutively that you have been the headliner of the Daily Prophet. That was quite the escape. I would tell you that your actions in the Americas as a whole were foolish, if they weren't so entirely amusing. The scarf was a nice touch, my but you did look dashing in newsprint. Tell me, how did you manage the American accent? I've heard that it's something to do with the mouth, it just sounds like they're attacking their words to me. They may have won the war, but they lost their ability to articulate without committing linguistic violence.

In his latest efforts to staunch global uprising, Travers has put me under a curfew, and has had my international travel rights not just restricted, but suspended. I have never sympathized more strongly with the third years who are denied permission to leave the grounds to go to Hogsmeade, at this rate I may never use the restriction as a punishment again and plan to actively protest it at our next staff meeting.

They haven't realized it yet, but the closer that the Ministry presses to me the further they find themselves from you.

That they are not having my mail searched is an oversight. Travers is hungry, but not overly bright. I have little doubt that if he wins the next election for Prime Minister, he will find that the entirety of the Commonwealth plays into your hand rather than his own. It is no secret between us that I do not agree with your plans, but it is less of a secret that I disagree with Travers'.

I thought we might meet in Paris this time around; now that you're free of your incarceration we are due for it, but if you are amenable, Hogsmeade could be our Paris. I have something to tell you about the boy you found in the Americas, and Travers is entirely convinced the only trouble I can get up to is outside of the country.

Please bring pastries, and coffee, I am gasping for it. Italian preferred. What they pass off in the village as coffee is absolute dishwater, and if we're taking my brother's attempt into account some may actually well be dishwater. There is not in all the nations a more vile and bitter drink.

Yours

Albus Dumbledore

It crackled through the air, and before the spell had the chance to completely strike Credence down- They all drew their wands, just like so many decades ago back at Godric's Hollow- He'd been watching Gellert out of the corner of his eye, knowing he was prone to doing something, anything drastic when he felt he was cornered. Two brothers against Gellert Grindelwald, to protect an obscurial. If anyone was dying tonight, by Merlin's beard it would not be another obscurial he would let die by their hands, but to protect. He heard a snap as the chain on the blood troth broke, and his eyes flickered up quickly to those mismatched ones he'd fallen in love with so many years ago at Godric's Hollow, reading the look on his face.

They were suddenly surrounded in some kind of impenetrable force field, a magical fog as the blood troth hung in the air beside him. He quickly pulled out his wand, blasting spells back and fourth as the air around them crackled with electricity of the raw power between them- No holding back this time. Blasts of spells and debris and raw power crashed around them as they duelled, growing closer and closer still. Until he had his wand aimed at his lover, his best friend, his everything, his other hand resting over his heart at they stared intensely at one another.

Albus was the first to power down his wand.

He swallowed thickly at the feeling of Gellerts hand against his own chest, clenched there, silently begging him to stay. He lowered his wand, looking up when he saw the fog beginning to clear.. An opening. He held his mismatched gaze for a long time, before he forced himself to walk away. Every step away from him, after seeing him in person, so close like this, for the first time in a long time- Felt like complete agony.

"Who will love you now, Dumbledore?."

Crack.

As he continued to walk away from him, with the combined feeling of the blood troth breaking at those words- It felt as if he had used the Cruciatius curse on him. His entire body burned, mind and heart as if he was on fire the second it broke on the steps of the palace. Jaw tightened at the feeling of holding back the absolute agony coursing through his veins, and those words made it feel as if he had been punched in the gut. Eyes staring up at him as he watched him stumble back, staring like a trapped animal at the rest of them. @magicblooms

I have not heard from you in quite sometime. Are you simply that busy at Hogwarts or are you ignoring me? School term is ending shortly if it's the first. However, if it's the second, I can certainly cause a ruckus nearby if you need reminding of my existence?

Regards

Gellert

@magicblooms

When he opened the letter that was delivered to him, an exasperated sigh left the professor, dragging a hand down his face. The school year kept him busy, naturally- But he hadn't expected a letter. Not from him, anyways. The second he laud blue eyes on the handwriting- He indeed knew whose it was, if the signature symbol of the deathly hallows beside his name didn't make it painfully obvious.

My dearest Gellert,

I did not anticipate you writing to me vying for my attention. Quite frankly, after the way things have been tense. You've no need to threaten to throw a tantrum just because you are seemingly vying for my undivided attention. Have you grown that bored in whatever chaos you seem to be up to these days?

News of his research and success spread like wildfire in the wizarding world- The Daily Prophet, Wizard Weekly, every and any wizarding world outlet found themselves posting his research and findings. After that, well.. Unhealthy obsession befell Albus Dumbledore once more with the deathly hallows, specifically the resurrection stone. He had been studying it long before Grindelwald came along and now he had more incentive, with three members of his family befalling tragic deaths.

If anything could bring them back, it was the stone.

He travelled the world in search of it, consumed by grief and mourning, which drove him on even more. Searching the darker corner of the wizarding world- He was no stranger to it. Not after Grindelwald. He found himself listening in, occupying dark wizarding clubs, darker places such as Knockturn Alley- When he heard whispers of his former lover from Godric's Hollow. Rumors of a rally taking place, to gain followers for his- Their movement. Change the world.. It's what they said they'd do.

For the greater good.

For the weeks that followed, he found out where it was taking place. He was adorned in head to toe in all black, a hood shrouding most of his fiery red curls as he made his way into the crowd, finding himself blending in. At least, he had hoped so. Baby blue eyes found themselves glued to his husband on stage, as he ranted and raved about what he sought to do, words flowing like the magic that so easily made up both halves of the star crossed lovers of Godric's Hollow, that poetic way he has with words.

He felt his heart beat in his chest. @magicblooms

It had been a few years longer than what was normal for them to go without talking- They'd had a huge argument last time, and with their movement gaining more traction, the ministry had noticed- And started getting nosy. They were, quite frankly, breathing down his neck- And with that fight years ago playing over and over in his head, the stress of the ministry breathing down his neck, and everything else.. Well. He was only human, wasn't he?

And he felt so bloody frustrated and goddamn lonely.

He found himself in Paris again- Slipping into one of the dark wizarding clubs he and Grindelwald had frequented during their first summer here together- They had been a regular that summer, so his presence wouldn't particularly raise any eyebrows. Dressed in a pair of tight fighting dark trousers, a pair of quite expensive black oxfords, and a sluttily slightly unbuttoned short sleeve white button up shirt, paired with a black jacket.

He was several drinks in when said jacket was disregarded on a chair nearby, and there was a cue stick in his grasp. There was a devious smirk on his face as he leaned over the pool table and aligned it with the cue balls, hips swaying sinfully as he did. There was a mostly empty glass of fire whiskey nearby, biting his lower lip as he readied the shot, fiery auburn curls falling around his cheeks, flushed from the alcohol in his system. @magicblooms