Fic: Two Months of Insanity
Title:
Two Months of Insanity
Author/Artist:
DHFiccer aka Lynn
Rating:
PG-13
Pairing or Character(s):
Gellert Grindelwald/Albus Dumbledore
Disclaimer:
Not mine, naturally. Owned by J.K. Rowling, though I hope to do them justice.
Author's Note:
Not yet beta-read, but it will be. I will also be editing the other chapters as my primary beta-reader finishes with her corrections. Chapter six has two beta-readers, but I'll address that in there, not here.
Chapter Eight
A Red Band
The second day of August was hotter than the first, but it was not unbearable. The great-nephew of Bathilda Bagshot had spent a good three hours in his room after breakfast, watching the window of Albus Dumbledore’s home. That same black owl was perched on the window sill of Albus’s room, and Gellert could see his friend’s figure hunched over the desk, seemingly getting another sheet of paper to continue writing.
Elphias had sent another letter, the third since Gellert had been in contact with Albus. Gellert and Albus’s talk about Elphias had been rather limited, never having gone beyond what Albus had told his new friend, Gellert considered himself even more than that as well, the first night that he had spent with Gellert. Sadly, in Gellert’s opinion, that first night had been the only one so far. He could only hope that this new letter from Elphias would not make Albus doubt that he had, indeed, moved on to someone better. Gellert knew next to nothing about Elphias, but that did not stop the blond from inwardly deciding that he had no use in the grand ideas that he and Albus dreamed up and enlarged with every meeting.
He could not be allowed to interfere in their partnership.
His thoughts were broken when Albus sent the black owl off, and Gellert moved away from his open window so as not to seem as if he were spying. A few moments later, the tawny barn owl Icarus was perched on Gellert’s window sill, a note tied to his leg. Gellert retrieved it, spread it out on the desk, and read.
‘Would you care to take a turn around the village? Aberforth can watch Ariana for a little while.’
Gellert dipped his quill into his inkwell, it was starting to run dry, and he made a mental note to pour new ink in soon. He considered writing to Albus that he was busy, in vengeance for seeing that black owl leave Albus’s home with a lengthy reply written to whatever Elphias had said, but he decided against such a petty action. It was not Albus’s fault for replying to letters, as annoying as that situation was. It was Elphias’s fault for writing the letters in the first place. Yes, that was where the fault lay.
‘That sounds wonderful.’ The response was penned and tied back to Icarus, and the owl flew off, toward the house that he had come from.
Gellert rose from his desk to prepare. He removed the dressing gown he wore, the golden necklace he had bought the day before still hanging against his chest. Before long, he was fully attired, with even the waistcoat and jacket that a proper Muggle gentleman should wear. The necklace was tucked under his shirt, and a brush was used to tame a few locks of hair that were still wild. He adjusted his collar while looking into the mirror and then, satisfied that his appearance was perfect, left the room and descended the stairs.
Albus was waiting for him when he opened the front door. Gellert found it a touch remarkable that Albus, though looking very uncomfortable, was wearing Muggle clothing as well.
“I thought we might venture into the Muggle part of town today,” Albus explained, “for the purposes of observation.”
“That sounds like a remarkable idea, Albus,” Gellert said. “After all, if we are to take our rightful place and rulers, we must acquaint ourselves with those we would rule.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
The pair walked together, down the dusty road of Godric’s Hollow. The houses did not bear a marked difference from one another. Looking at them, it was impossible to tell which was a Muggle house and what house contained a Wizard family. Even the young people that could be seen outside were not telling. Young witches and wizards often adopted Muggle clothing, especially when outside. Even their parents might do it when in plain sight. One difference alone truly marked the presence of magic, at least somewhat. The lawns of Muggles were growing dry and brown under the heat and in the absence of rain these last few weeks. The lawns of Wizards did not suffer so, as their keepers often used magic to water the ground, rather than attempting to haul enough water to the grass to keep it alive.
“I have been considering something,” Gellert told Albus, the two having to give a wave every so often when one of the Muggles was out and noticed them and gave them some kind of greeting. “In the world we intend to create, we will need a way of telling the Muggles and Wizards apart.
“The presence or lack of a wand would be ample evidence, would it not?” Albus asked.
“Except that some, like myself, choose to hide their wands. It is present, but not seen,” Gellert replied. Albus nodded in response.
“I had not considered that. What do you suggest?”
“I am not certain. It would be something that was noticeable, easily seen, yet not something that would interfere in their lives. We would be marking them for the sole purpose of knowing which was which, so that, say, a Wizard would know a Muggle and know not to use excessive force by spells when facing an opponent that could not defend himself.”
“And a Muggle,” Albus added, “would know a Wizard, so he could be careful not to offend.”
“Precisely. It would be a system that would assist both groups.” They continued to walk along together, and Gellert murmured, speaking more to himself than to Albus, “Something simple, certainly.”
They continued to walk together, down toward a Muggle pub that, even in the early afternoon, seemed to be teeming with life. People inside could be heard even from several meters away. Albus and Gellert looked at one another and confirmed with their eyes what the other was thinking. It would be a very interesting and very enlightening experience to spend at least some time in there. Not to mention that it might also be a bit of fun.
The establishment was small, and the moderate amount of people gave the impression of it being even smaller. The smell of smoke was heavy, and Albus coughed a bit as they walked in. Already, the two looked out of place. They were dressed as gentlemen, yet those around them were in much more casual clothing. The patrons of the tavern wore the clothes of the working class, and Gellert’s taste in fashion marked the two as, at the very least, outsiders. A few gazes followed them, but there was nothing said to the young men as of yet. Whispers were exchanged, but their content was indistinguishable against the prattling that had continued amongst those that found the pair of newcomers unworthy of attention.
Albus tapped Gellert’s shoulder and pointed at an empty table, and Gellert nodded. The auburn-haired wizard went to claim the table for himself and the other while his blond companion approached the bar.
“What have you got?” Gellert asked the bartender, and the man looked at him.
“Beer, whiskey, gin. You name it, I probably got it,” the man responded.
Gellert hesitated a moment. Muggle alcohol was one thing that he knew next to nothing about, but he was not about to admit such a thing. “Two whiskeys,” he finally announced.
“Lord,” a drawling voice came from beside him, “we get more of your lot every day.” Gellert turned to face the man who had spoken. He was a large man, probably six years Gellert’s senior, and his eyes were faintly narrowed.
“My lot, sir?” Gellert replied, his mouth set into a thin line. “What do you mean by that?”
“I mean you damn foreigners. It’s gettin’ harder and harder to find chaps in a pub that are actually British; it’s just your lot now.” The man gave a laugh at seeing Gellert straighten himself fully up. “What? You don’ like hearing that, kid? Too bad it’s damn well true. Your bloody sort are ruining places like this!”
“Allan,” the bartender said to the man, “you’ve had too much to drink. Leave the boy alone.”
“Let him talk,” Gellert snapped at the bartender. “He’s making a fool of himself, and I am quite enjoying it.” Gellert saw, out of the corner of his eye, Albus rise from the table. His friend had noticed the argument that Gellert seemed to be engaged in.
“You’re a cocky little sod, aren’t you?” Alan said, his temper rising. “Someone ought to teach you how things are done ‘round these parts.” He rose from his seat and looked down at Gellert. He was at least a half foot taller than the blond, but Gellert showed no sign of backing down.
“You presume far too much,” Gellert murmured, his features twisting into a smirk. “The day that a Muggle such as yourself can teach me anything is the day that the sun rises in the west.”
“What did you call me?” Alan demanded.
“I called you a Muggle,” Gellert replied. He had adopted the tone of someone speaking to a child, and he gave a short laugh. “That is precisely what you are. A Mug--”
He was not even able to finish the word. One of Alan’s very large hands had been closed into a fist, and the elder lashed out. The punch hit Gellert, splitting his lip, and the young man staggered back, bracing himself against a table. When he felt something wet upon his chin, Gellert raised a hand and touched his wounded lip, pulling his hand back to stare at the blood.
“Alan!” The bartender was shouting, and he moved from behind the bar, ready to restrain his patron if the man decided to take a second swing at the youth. “I will not allow brawling in here! You know that!”
“Gellert!” Albus hurried forward, looking at his friend’s bloody lip, but Gellert was staring at the man who had struck him.
“You--” The blond gave an indignant scoff. “You dared--” The words seemed to be lost on him, his accent thicker than ever as rage and disbelief came through every utterance. “You dared to strike me.”
“Dared?” Allan roared. “Of course I dared! What? Do you think you’re some kind of prince? I’ll give you another good one if you get close enough!”
“Alan!” The bartender grabbed one of the man’s arms in an attempt to restrain him.
“You think you can make those kinds of threats to me?” Gellert was shouting now, and his eyes had a fire in them that made Albus back away from him. “I will show you what true power is!” he reached for his sleeve, but Albus darted forward and seized his wrist.
“Gellert, no!”
“Albus, let go of me! This man --this Muggle!-- deserves it!”
“Gellert, the Statute!”
“I don’t give a damn about--”
“Please!”
Gellert was still breathing heavily, but Albus’s last word had touched the right chord within him, and he seemed to calm himself slightly. Those blue eyes stared into his, and took a deep breath. Gellert said nothing, but he did allow his friend to lead him out of the pub. Gellert even managed to resist the temptation to look behind him at the man that he had been ready to curse with everything he knew.
Neither young man said anything as Albus led Gellert back into the Wizarding part of Godric’s Hollow. Even then, no words were spoken, and Albus urged Gellert to the Dumbledore home. Once inside, Albus sighed.
“I don’t know why the Hell you stopped me,” Gellert said as soon as they were inside and the door shut behind them. “He--”
“Hush,” Albus murmured. “Not so loud. Ariana and Aberforth don’t need to hear you raging, just because some Muggle was a fool.” He put a hand on Gellert’s cheek, raking the other hand through those curly locks of hair. “Calm down.” His voice was quiet, and it soothed Gellert. After a moment, Albus pulled his hands away and drew his wand out from inside his jacket. He uttered an incantation and touched the wound on Gellert’s lip with the tip of the wand, and the skin mended itself almost instantly. “Better?”
“Much.”
“Come upstairs. I’ll help you wash that blood off,” Albus said.
As the two mounted the stairs, Albus leading the way, Gellert looked at his stained hand. He stopped at the top of the stairs, even as Albus headed for the washroom.
“Gellert?” Albus’s voice called his friend back to the present moment.
“I have it,” Gellert announced.
“Have what?”
“I know how we can tell the Muggles apart from our kind.” His voice was quiet, all rage gone, and the smile that stole over his face made Albus notably uneasy. “They can wear a band around their arms. A red band. Large enough to be noticed. It would be perfect.”
“Of course, Gellert,” Albus said, more to pacify what he was sure were the last vestiges of anger toward the Muggle that had struck him. “Of course. That sounds fine.”
Gellert was silent as he allowed himself to be lead into the marble-floored washroom, and Albus turned one of the taps of the sink. Gellert washed his hand and chin off, looking at his reflection, and the reflection of Albus standing behind him, in the mirror.
Once he was finished, he turned off the flow of water and looked at his friend. “Where are Aberforth and Ariana?”
“Probably a few rooms down,” Albus replied. “Aberforth is very good at keeping Ariana entertained in her room.”
“Could we go somewhere with a bit of privacy?”
“Of course. I’ll show you to my room.”
The room was exactly what could have been expected, as far as Gellert was concerned. Books were everywhere, and one wall was dedicated to the awards that Albus had accumulated during his years at school. On the writing desk, a simple one not unlike Gellert’s, there was a glass case with two pins placed on some sort of material. One read ‘Prefect’ and the other ‘Head Boy.’ The room was tidier, though. No paper was on the floor, the books were well arranged, and everything was dusted. The bed was perfectly made, and Gellert would bet that he would not find any dust even under the bed.
“Have a seat,” Albus said, and Gellert sat down on the bed, removing his shoes so that he could make himself more comfortable. Before long, Albus was sitting beside him, and the brunette touched Gellert’s lip with the pad of one finger. “It doesn’t hurt anymore?”
“Not a bit,” Gellert assured him.
“I’m glad,” Albus replied. The two looked at one another for several moments, and it was finally Gellert who spoke again.
“I think it’s a good idea.” At seeing Albus’s confused expression, Gellert elaborated. “We both agreed earlier that it would be best if Muggles were marked as separate from Wizards, so that both knew which they were dealing with, correct?” Albus nodded slightly. “Well, why not a red band around their arm? It would be easily seen, and it would not get in the way of daily activities.”
Seeing that his friend was calm and speaking rationally, Albus considered the idea. After a moment, he nodded slightly. “Yes,” the blue-eyed young man murmured. “That is a good idea, I suppose. Very simple, and it would just be a marking, nothing that would offend.”
“Though…” Gellert trailed off as he touched the spot where his lip had been struck.
“What is it?” Albus questioned.
“Are they safe?”
“What?”
“Muggles. Are they safe? You saw what that bastard did. No warning or anything.”
“It would have been different if the Statute wasn’t in place and he had known that you were a Wizard. He would have known to show respect,” Albus replied, touching Gellert’s hand gently. “You shouldn’t hold his actions against all Muggles.”
“But,” Gellert said, lowering his hand, “perhaps it should be taken into consideration.”
“What should?”
“That some Muggles will not know their place.” Albus was silent, staring at his friend now. “When we establish the world that we seek to create,” Gellert spoke lowly, leaning forward, and Albus bent forward a bit himself, “we should make sure that the Muggles know their place. We shouldn’t wait for them to prove that they don’t; we should make them prove that they do. Right away.”
“How?” Albus asked.
“A test of some sort. Something practical,” Gellert murmured. His eyes focused on the wall as he considered the idea. “Perhaps, once they have a red band to properly mark themselves, let them encounter a Wizard waiting for them, make sure that they show the proper respect. If they don’t, we can lock them away until they do.” Albus looked at Gellert again, but Gellert did not see the frown on his friend’s face. “Lock them away until they learn how to show the proper respect, until they learn their place. If they never do, that is their own fault.”
“Gellert.” It was all Albus said before he touched his friend’s cheek and bent forward a bit more, brushing his lips lightly against Gellert’s.
That got the blonde’s attention.
“Albus, I’m trying to think,” Gellert whispered when Albus broke the kiss.
“You’ve thought plenty today.”
Albus kissed Gellert again, and Gellert returned the attention. Gellert’s hand raised and slid behind Albus’s head, tangling his fingers in that long auburn hair. Albus put one of his hands against the back of Gellert’s necklace, and he pulled his head back slightly when he felt the chain around Gellert’s neck. Curious about it, he broke the kiss fully and gently tugged the chain to pull the necklace free from under Gellert’s shirt. He touched the gold triangle, unaware of Gellert’s hazel eyes watching him closely.
“What’s this?” Albus asked. “I haven’t seen it before. Is it new?”
Gellert was silent a moment, concocting a story. After only a short pause, he replied. “No. It’s something my grandfather gave me, when he first told me about the Hallows.”
“What’s the black liquid?”
“He said it was poison, but he never told me how to open the necklace so I could get rid of it.”
“Well--” Albus began, but Gellert moved his hand from behind Albus’s hair to under his chin. Gellert raised Albus’s head with his hand, and he kissed him again, heavily this time. Albus responded with the same vigor, successfully distracted from his inspection of the necklace and kept from discovering how easily it could be opened.
After a few moments, Gellert broke the kiss and looked at Albus, a smirk spreading across his features. “Do you think we can be quiet enough? Or will your siblings worry and come to check on you?”
Albus chuckled a little and replied, licking his lips just slightly, “That would be something to try.”
Gellert pulled his wand from its place in his sleeve and flicked it, the lock on the door turning itself until it clicked. He leaned forward again and whispered before kissing Albus again, “Just in case.”