Entry the Tenth: The Painful Truth about Love and Betrayal
[Gellert is sat in the library, papers strewn everywhere half over the walls across the floor, in front of the hearth. The man himself is very still, eyes stuck on the paper before him. , reading and rereading before looking on the cover, ]
Contributions by Harry James Potter…
[[Trails off looking back at the book, evidently someone had decided to “Right the lies written about Albus Dumbledore”…but no it wasn’t about how Gellert had been defeated in the battle, no he was still discovering that, no this was Gellert’s death.
He blond looked over it again and again. The thought filling him with a mixture of amazement and despair. To still be so in love with him that decades after his incarceration within Nuremgard Prison, by none other than the man in question.
To know he would never have his longing numbed or taken from him terrified him, he was lost to the elder man even when he knew he would never be forgiven.
That the idea of anyone particularly this Voldemort creature defacing Albus grave was more obscene to him, that he gave his own life to protect it, protect him.]
It is a strange feeling reading one's own death, stranger still, the deaths of others
[Voice trails off absently, the thought of Albus dying before him disturbed him too, so much so that he had skipped that particular chapter about three times before finally gathering the courage to do so; he sank deeper into the chair and set to read.]
((OOC: Open post is open, feel free to hear his mutterings over the journal, or see him in the library :)))
Contributions by Harry James Potter…
[[Trails off looking back at the book, evidently someone had decided to “Right the lies written about Albus Dumbledore”…but no it wasn’t about how Gellert had been defeated in the battle, no he was still discovering that, no this was Gellert’s death.
He blond looked over it again and again. The thought filling him with a mixture of amazement and despair. To still be so in love with him that decades after his incarceration within Nuremgard Prison, by none other than the man in question.
To know he would never have his longing numbed or taken from him terrified him, he was lost to the elder man even when he knew he would never be forgiven.
That the idea of anyone particularly this Voldemort creature defacing Albus grave was more obscene to him, that he gave his own life to protect it, protect him.]
It is a strange feeling reading one's own death, stranger still, the deaths of others
[Voice trails off absently, the thought of Albus dying before him disturbed him too, so much so that he had skipped that particular chapter about three times before finally gathering the courage to do so; he sank deeper into the chair and set to read.]
((OOC: Open post is open, feel free to hear his mutterings over the journal, or see him in the library :)))