Albus Dumbledore/Elphias Doge fic: The Unspoken and Unsent
Title: The Unspoken and Unsent
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Albus Dumbledore/Elphias Doge
Rating: R
Summary: Albus shocks Elphias with some news on the day of their graduation from Hogwarts. Elphias embarks on their planned trip around the world without Albus, and their correspondence is rather fraught.
A/N: This was my hp_spring_fling fic for miss_morland, who requested Dumbledore/Doge, so I finally had a good excuse to write this pairing that I've been interested in since book seven. Thank you to chlorate for the beta work and the thoughts on "in the manner of the Greeks," etc. ;)
Elphias Doge had never been happier than he was on the afternoon of his last Leaving Feast at Hogwarts. He was preparing to embark the following morning on a tour of the world with his best friend since first year, and they were going to see all of the places Elphias had only dreamed and read about, have fantastic adventures and get in loads of ultimately harmless trouble in every remote corner of the wizarding world. He could not seem to keep his leg still; it was bouncing under the Gryffindor table as he sat there for the last time, stuffing his face with pumpkin bread and roast chicken and anything he could get his hands on. His appetite often matched his moods, and on that day it felt unstoppable. Albus, meanwhile, was sitting next to him and looking wan as he picked at a small helping of potatoes.
"You can't possibly think you did badly on your exams," Elphias said, skipping over the part where he asked if something was wrong. He knew Albus' every look and posture and understood already that something was bothering him.
"No," Albus said. "It's just that my stomach's a bit unsettled. Too much excitement, I suppose."
Elphias elbowed his friend the way he always did when Albus began talking like he was his own grandmother. Albus was the smartest boy -- man! -- and the most talented wizard Elphias and everyone else at Hogwarts had ever known. Sometimes his brilliance translated to an emotional maturity that made Elphias feel as though he were much younger than Albus, though in fact they'd been born only a month apart.
"What, then, no celebratory pints down at the Three Broomsticks tonight?" Elphias said in a pout. The drinking down in Hogsmeade had always been part of their plan to celebrate their new freedom, and Elphias had been looking forward to seeing a drunken Albus. Albus never snuck sips of firewhiskey with the others during Hogsmeade trips. He took his prefect status much too seriously, and Elphias hoped that the burden of Albus' good behavior would not haunt them so constantly once they were free of school.
"I'm sure I'll feel better by this evening," Albus said, smiling shakily. Elphias had never seen him look so anxious and wound-up, but he might have expected as much since they were finally leaving Hogwarts, which meant more to Albus than it did to Elphias and most of the other students. Albus had had it a bit rough at home since his father's arrest, and he took refuge in the school that had recognized and celebrated his gifts since his first year. Elphias could still remember their first Transfiguration class together. The professor was stuck speechless when Albus somehow transfigured a tea kettle into a bewildered-looking adult moose with fantastic antlers.
"You'd better get well fast," Elphias said, slinging an arm around his friend. "At least by tomorrow morning. First stop: darkest Africa."
"Don't call it darkest Africa," Albus said, smiling a little. Elphias smiled back and leaned to laugh onto his shoulder. Albus was always correcting Elphias' speech and ideas and spell work, and sometimes they got into rows when Elphias felt Albus was treating him like an embarrassing younger brother, but most of the time he secretly enjoyed Albus' exasperation with him.
After eating, Albus persuaded Elphias to take a nostalgic walk around the grounds, and Elphias was glad to go, mostly because it was an encouraging sign that Albus was willing to miss the professors' boring speeches in lieu of something that was, perhaps, technically against the rules. Elphias wasn't entirely sure; he felt effervescent, living in a space between school and adulthood for one final day, unable to tell if he was defying boundaries or simply beginning to make his own choices.
"It's a lovely day, don't you think?" Albus said as they made their way toward the meadow behind the manicured garden toward which the professors tended to gravitate while the students spread out in the front courtyard. Elphias laughed and tugged on Albus' arm. Albus still looked a bit green, and he was talking about the weather. Elphias would have to raid the hospital wing before leaving Hogwarts if Albus was coming down with something, because there was no way he would allow even a portion of their trip to be canceled.
"Let's walk down by the lake and see who's having some last chance sex," Elphias said. "Ten sickles on Bonnie Bedford and Zachary McDougall."
"No, Elphias, please." Albus frowned deeply. "Quit joking."
"Who said I was joking? And can't I just be happy, Albus? I know you're upset about leaving Hogwarts, but I've been counting down the days. Now we'll be Aurors like we've always talked about! This trip around the world will be just a preview. When we come back we'll begin the training and then we'll be sent out on missions to places we've never even heard about --"
"Elphias, you're cutting off the circulation in my arm," Albus remarked lightly. Elphias looked down to see that he was indeed squeezing Albus' arm quite tightly, and he laughed at himself. He let go and smacked Albus on the back.
"Don't blame me for being excited," Elphias said. "I thought you might be a little excited yourself, actually. At least about our trip."
"I am," Albus said, so emphatically that Elphias laughed again. Albus stopped walking and turned to Elphias, then looked about the meadow as if he were afraid they were being spied on. "Elphias," he said. "I'm so excited, you've no idea."
"Are you ill, then? If you are we should go to the hospital wing straight away, I wouldn't want you -"
"No, I'm not ill. At least not in any way that a potion from the school nurse could cure. Come here."
He took Elphias' hand and led him further into the meadow, where the trees were thicker and the grass was taller. Elphias followed along obediently, a sense that something was truly wrong sitting heavy at the pit of his stomach. He regretted eating so much at the leaving feast.
"Where are we going?" Elphias asked as Albus brought him to the very edge of the woods. Albus sighed as if he'd been dreading that question and dropped Elphias' hand. He gestured to a felled log that had tiny purple mushrooms growing on it. Elphias hoped that Albus didn't intend to enlist him in harvesting potion ingredients on their last day at Hogwarts.
"Sit, please," Albus said when Elphias stood staring at him in confusion. Elphias did as he was told, a frown deepening on his forehead. Albus sat down beside him and smoothed out his robes, a habit he had when he was nervous. Elphias had only seen Albus nervous twice before: when he turned down Wendy Fitzwilliam's invitation to dance at a ball during their fifth year, and the first time he'd written home to tell his mother that he would be spending the winter holiday with Elphias and his family.
"Albus," Elphias said. "You're beginning to worry me."
"Yes, I know," Albus said, his voice thin with the effort of getting it past his lips. He wouldn't look at Elphias directly, and then when he did, his blue eyes were shimmering wetly. "I have something to tell you," he said.
"Oh, God, you can't make the trip, can you?" Elphias groaned and put his head in his hands, then shot back up to look at Albus again. "What is it, what's happened? Can't it wait until we get back, whatever it is?"
"I don't think it can," Albus said. He started to reach for Elphias and then drew his hand back. "But I do hope we can still go on our trip."
"What? Oh, good, you frightened me." Elphias couldn't imagine what else could possibly be wrong. Albus wasn't ill, and he wasn't canceling their summer plans. He hadn't done poorly on his exams -- the mere idea was laughable -- and he hadn't had any Howlers or otherwise alarming letters from home in the past few days, at least not as far as Elphias knew. He put an arm around Albus and found that he was trembling.
"I've imagined this moment for such a long time," Albus said. He looked up into Elphias' face and then away again, then back.
"What moment?" Elphias asked. He looked around the meadow, but it was quiet and calm, buzzing with insects whose wings glowed in the late afternoon sunlight.
"Elphias," Albus said. "Do you recall in fourth year? Your -- that girl -- Victoria -- who you were -- seeing?"
"Oh, vaguely, yes. That was so long ago -- trying to rub the fact that I haven't done much courting in my face, are you? You're hardly one to talk!" Elphias laughed, and removed his arm from Albus' shoulders when the weight of it only seemed to increase his trembling.
"She was the only one," Albus said. He wiped sweat from his upper lip. "And, my God, I have never hated anyone so passionately."
"Yes, I rather came to hate her myself. What on earth does she have to do with anything now? You haven't come to fancy her, have you? Oh, Merlin's beard, Albus, you haven't got her in trouble --"
"Elphias, you are really exceptionally daft!" Albus said, standing. "I've brought you out here to tell you I've been in love with you for five years and I can't get two bloody words out before you accuse me of impregnating your former girlfriend!"
Elphias stared up at Albus for almost a full minute before he burst into laughter. Albus had his fists clenched and his shoulders raised and Elphias waited for him to crack a smile and break out laughing himself, then slowly wound down to silence when he didn't.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Elphias asked, frowning again. Albus growled in frustration and yanked him up from his seat.
"I said I love you!" Their noses were almost touching as Albus glared at Elphias, waiting for him to do something about it. He looked as if he were set to accuse him of administering a love potion.
"Love me?" Elphias squeaked, still terribly confused.
"Yes, you idiot! How on earth you've managed to miss this is the great mystery of my life. When you broke up with Victoria I hugged you as if you'd won the Triwizard Tournament, don't you recall? And when that Ravenclaw girl asked me to dance at the ball in fifth year I hurt her feelings by turning her down, and I felt horrible for it but I had to, you see, lest you get the wrong idea. Last year I knitted you a sweater for your birthday like a lovesick ninny and two months ago I brought up the fact that we may have to share a bed during our travels and you beamed at me as if that was what you were looking forward to most!"
Albus was huffing when he finished his speech, and Elphias' eyes were two galleons, wide and glossy. He thought of the afternoon when Albus had discussed the possibility of sharing a bed in some of the more remote regions they planned to travel, and he tried to recall his reaction. He'd laughed, hadn't he? It was funny, wasn't it? Two boys in the same bed? Funny, queer, et cetera. Elphias stepped backward.
"Albus," he said, and then he didn't know how to continue. He fell back, his arse narrowly missing the tree trunk they'd been sitting on and sliding to the ground instead.
"Are you in the process of fainting?" Albus asked, kneeling down. Elphias shook his head.
"My fingers are tingling," he observed blandly.
"They are?" Albus asked. Elphias had never heard such naive hope flood into Albus' voice. It was distressing. Albus reached for his hand, but Elphias pulled away. What was Albus expecting him to do about all this nonsense? Grab his ears and knock him over backward with a kiss?
"I suppose I was hoping that our trip could be more than a gap year romp," Albus said, sitting beside him but not too close, as if Elphias were a wild animal who startled easily.
"You were hoping it would be a gay year?" Elphias said with a disbelieving scoff, his vision still blurred. Though Albus wasn't touching him, he felt the change in the air beside him when he went stiff with rejection. Elphias bit down on his tongue. He simply couldn't accept the fact that Albus was serious. But what if he was? But how could that be possible?
"I thought," Albus said, pressing his hands over his robes to smooth away wrinkles that were not there. "I thought -- since you've never -- well, you haven't had many girls, just the one, and that was, and I thought --"
"Plenty of boys don't have girls at school!" Elphias shouted, jumping up. His heart had caught up with the rest of him and it was beating savagely in his chest. "It doesn't mean they don't want them! I didn't have girls after me all the time the way you have -- oh, I should have known! Listen, I didn't even know you knitted that sweater, I thought you forgot to buy me something so you just wrapped up one of your old ones!"
Albus closed his eyes. A pair of fat tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped off of his chin while Elphias stood in shock, not knowing if he should run or throw his arms around his friend to comfort him. He would rather the latter, but he didn't want to give him the wrong idea.
"I'm sorry, Albus," Elphias said, scratching the back of his head. "I think you're -- incredible, like everyone, but --"
"Oh, like everyone, of course!" Albus wiped his eyes with his robes and glowered up at Elphias like he was ready to take it all back. "Everyone knows how fabulously talented and wise beyond his years that Dumbledore boy is, yes, yes, it's very well established. But I thought you were different, oh, I wanted you to be different!" He broke into tears again, and again Elphias struggled not to fall down beside him and gather him up.
"You were always touching me," Albus cried. "As if I were like you, just another student, not some walking monument to greatness. And you were always saying the wrong thing and joking and never trying to win me over. You always just knew that you already had me, oh, Elphias, I thought that you knew."
"I didn't know any of this!" Elphias said, indignant at the thought that he'd been expected to. "Oh, stop crying, won't you? This is all too strange to bear."
Albus brought the sleeve of his robe up to his face and sucked in his breath as if he were drawing air from the fabric. When he lifted his face again the sight of his ruined eyes and blotchy cheeks made Elphias feel as if he'd lost the ability to breathe himself.
"I'm so sorry to have burdened you," Albus said. "You may leave me to my strangeness now, as it's clear you have nothing to offer me."
"Don't say such things!" Elphias said. His body felt like it was emptying out, like dark wizards had snuck up behind him to cast spells that were designed to steal everything he had and leave him hollow. "I have a lot to offer you, Albus, you're my closest friend and I can't live without your company --"
"You're only saying so because you don't want your damn summer plans spoiled." Albus stood and took a breath as if to steady himself. Elphias had never seen him cry before and wasn't surprised when he quickly reined himself in.
"No!" Elphias said, though he was already mourning the trip that was now surely spoiled. "We were to be Aurors together, Albus, and share a flat in London --"
"Well, I've ruined all of that now, haven't I?" Albus said. He began to walk out of the meadow and Elphias followed, tripping over stones and twigs in his eagerness. "Now you know I want you not just in my flat but in my bed, and neither you nor I will ever be able to forget it."
Elphias stopped in his tracks, paralyzed by the sentiment. Albus walked on without looking back, and Elphias sincerely feared that he'd been turned to stone by those words, a powerful spell Albus had crafted himself: I want you in my bed. Elphias had no idea what went on between two men who shared a bed -- he had only a vague concept about what went on between and man and a woman -- and he could only get as far as imagining Albus' bare, freckled shoulder protruding from beneath the blankets before he shook the thoughts away. When he had freed himself from his temporary imprisonment there in the meadow, Albus was gone.
*
Elphias skipped the Three Broomsticks that night and shut himself up in the empty room in Gryffindor Tower that he shared with Albus and two other chaps. He closed his bed curtains and lay on his back, staring at the canopy over his bed and waiting for the sound of anyone approaching. The whole Tower was quiet; everyone was either out celebrating the end of the school year or had already taken the first train home after the feast. The quiet felt like an enemy, and Elphias was tempted to take his wand from the bedside table and clutch it against his chest in case something sprung out of the darkness to attack him.
His chest was heaving and he had no hope of sleep. Albus in love with him all along. How preposterous! Elphias was still waiting for someone to throw his bed curtains open and tell him he'd only been involved in a fantastic prank. It was true that Albus' lack of attention to the opposite sex had seemed odd at times, but Elphias had always assumed he was simply too preoccupied with his studies to make time for girls. The rest of Albus' so-called hints of his true feelings were all normal friendship-related activities, as far as Elphias was concerned. Exchanging gifts, making plans together, occasionally grasping each other's hands or shoulders or arms. Albus was mad to think that anything more had been going on. It eventually occurred to Elphias that he hadn't thought but merely hoped, and he continued to feel horrible for the way he had behaved in the meadow, but what else could he have done? It would have been an insult to both of them if he'd tried to hide his profound shock.
Elphias heard Benjamin Tuttle and Marcus Courtland return together after an indiscernible amount of time, and he listened jealously as they laughed and teased each other all the way to their separate beds. Things would never be that way with Albus again. It was almost dawn by the time Albus returned; Elphias recognized the soft way he always shut the door and the elegant pad of his footsteps across the thick carpet. He ached to throw his bed curtains open and beg Albus to forget everything that had happened in the meadow. Elphias was willing to try. They could still have their trip, and Albus would eventually fancy someone else. Maybe even a girl. Probably he was just dreadfully confused. Something to do with his turbulent family life, certainly.
He listened as Albus prepared for bed and then pulled his own curtains shut. Before this terrible incident that had split them apart, Elphias had often crept across the room after the others were asleep and drawn Albus' curtains back to whisper some news or idea or plan for their trip that he'd forgotten to tell him about during the day. Thinking of the way Albus had smiled up at him when he did this made him sick with regret. Was it perhaps his own fault that Albus had fixated on him in such an unhealthy way? What was that nonsense about touching him all the time? Did he really? What of it, if so?
Elphias slept horribly, and what little rest he could manage was broken up before sunrise by a commotion in the room. He grumbled in annoyance and sat up, the memories of what had happened the day before spilling back into him like filthy black water and ruining the new day in advance. He rubbed his eyes and recognized several of the voices that had woken him: Albus and the head of their house, Professor Perryman.
"Please, Albus," Perryman said, whispering. "We should discuss this out in the common room."
"What's happened?" Albus was frantic; Elphias had the horrible notion that perhaps Albus suspected he'd turned him in to the professors for the crime of perversion.
"It's some very bad news, I'm afraid." That was Madame Humphrey, the school nurse. "Please just come with us and we'll explain."
Elphias could hear the sound of Albus' labored breathing, and he poked his head out from his bed curtains to show him that he wasn't afraid to face him, that he didn't have anything to hide. Albus cast a terrified look back at him as Professor Perryman and Madame Humphrey led him from the room.
When they were gone, Elphias catapulted himself out of bed and dressed in a hurry. He went out to the hall and peeked down from the landing into the common room, where Albus was sitting on an ottoman and looking rather green as Madame Humphrey spoke to him in a hushed voice.
"A terrible accident," she said. "I'm so sorry, dear. I'm sure you'll want to go home at once."
"Do you need help gathering your things?" Perryman asked. He looked uncomfortable. Albus seemed to still be half-asleep, though Elphias knew that he never had trouble waking and was always fully alert and conscious as soon as he was out of bed.
"I -- I can get my things myself," Albus said after a few moments and an anxious glance between Perryman and Humphrey. He stood, and Humphrey seemed reluctant to release his arm from her sympathetic grasp.
"Can I get you anything, dear?" she asked as Albus slumped away from her. "A Calming Draught? Some tea -- a hot toddy, perhaps?"
"No, thank you," Albus said. He reached the stairs, and Elphias slunk back into the shadows to wait for him. When Albus walked into the hall he saw Elphias lurking there and stared at him. His face was much whiter than usual.
"What's happened?" Elphias whispered. "Are you in some sort of trouble?" He hoped to communicate with his tone that he was fully prepared to be of assistance, regardless of the previous day's fiasco.
"My mother," Albus said. He stared at Elphias as if he should be able to guess the rest. "There was an accident at the house. She's dead."
Again, Elphias waited for Albus to indicate that the wild claims he was making were not true, but instead he just walked around Elphias toward their room.
"Wait!" Elphias grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. It was much easier than usual; Albus was bigger than Elphias but currently limp with shock. "Oh -- I'm so sorry -- oh, Albus -- do you know what happened?"
"I have a guess," Albus said. His eyes passed right through Elphias as if he was speaking to the wall, and Elphias felt a chill at the reminder of Albus' sister and the danger she posed to everyone around her. Surely it hadn't been the girl who killed her mother? It was too horrible to imagine.
"I'll come home with you," Elphias said. He wouldn't want Albus to have to face his sneering older brother and that wild girl alone. Albus shook his head slowly, and his eyes at last seemed to focus on Elphias' face.
"No." He pulled out of Elphias' grip. "Just leave me alone."
"Albus!" Elphias followed him down the hall, his fists curling and uncurling with frustration, as if his own need to comfort Albus was as important as Albus' need to be comforted. Albus did a good job of ignoring him and acting as if he were sleepwalking. He began packing his things into his trunk, and Elphias scrambled to help him. It had been years since he'd seen Albus voluntarily do something that could be done with magic by hand, and it was a startling sight.
"You are not coming with me," Albus said as they worked.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, of course I am!"
"I cannot be near you right now, Elphias," Albus said, the pressure in his voice coiling tighter.
"Why not? Who cares what happened yesterday, Albus? Bugger that, this is important."
"What happened yesterday was important to me," Albus said. Elphias had never seen the pale blue in his eyes look so dangerous. For the first time he imagined Albus not as his laughing Auror chum but as a deadly force who would quickly outrank him.
"But you can't be alone," Elphias said weakly. Albus slammed the trunk shut, nearly crushing the lid onto Elphias' thumbs.
"I won't be alone," Albus said. "And even if I should be, having you there would hardly matter."
"How can you say that to me?" Elphias asked, still on his knees as Albus stood to levitate his trunk. By now, Benjamin and Marcus had peeked out from their bed curtains to see what was going on. "You can't hate me just for not -- for not --" Elphias was whispering now but still couldn't quite articulate what Albus wanted from him, the only image he could conjure that of a large bed with seedy red sheets.
"You think that's why I'm angry?" Albus asked, not bothering to whisper. "No, Elphias, I couldn't hate you for not reacting the way I'd hoped you would. But I never expected -- I -- I feel as if I don't know you at all, as if I never did. I've been wrong about everything all along."
"And that's my fault?" Elphias shouted, withholding a remark about Albus' inability to accept that he could ever possibly be wrong about anything.
"Perhaps it is my fault," Albus said. His face was blank, and he looked like the sort of untouchable statue of a person that he had lamented becoming the day before. "In fact, I'm inclined to believe that it is. But I'm afraid that doesn't change the fact that I no longer want you anywhere near me." He stormed out of the room with his trunk following, and Elphias scoffed at his attempted escape, undeterred.
Ignoring the questions of his suite mates, Elphias ran after Albus, all the way out to the field in front of the castle, where Albus Apparated away. Elphias Apparated as well, and landed on his feet in the town square of Godric's Hollow. He'd been there to visit Albus a few times before, and had met his mother only once during his seven years of friendship with Albus. She was a dark, brooding woman who had looked at Elphias as if he were an intruder in her home.
He ran through the streets of the town, hoping that he would remember how to reach Albus' house once he saw a few familiar landmarks. It was a charming little village, the lanterns still lit as the sun began to rise lazily over the eastern hills. Elphias almost ran right past the Dumbledore household, which was set back from the main road in a glen that might have been cheerful, had the house within it not been in such blatant disrepair. A pair of fine brooms were leaning against the front gate, and Elphias recognized the gold badges stamped into their handles as he came closer: inspectors from the Ministry.
"Albus!" he shouted as he ran into the house. It was dark inside, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the somber scene in the sitting room. Albus was staring at him in infuriated shock, Aberforth was opposite him, looking as if his desire to kill Elphias was stronger than Albus' by tenfold, and the two inspectors were watching him with expressions of dull interest, as if he had come to explain the case to them.
"Elphias," Albus said, his voice so tight that Elphias wondered how he was managing to breathe. "Not now."
"I'll just wait in your room, then," Elphias bellowed, as if he belonged there. He slunk past the grim onlookers and heard Aberforth telling the inspectors that he was a pesky neighbor boy. When he reached Albus' bedroom he gladly shut the door behind him.
Albus' room looked no different than it had last time he'd been to Godric's Hollow. The curtains were musty and moth-nibbled, and the ceiling was still enchanted to match the weather outside. Elphias leaned back onto Albus' bed to watch the sun rise to match the light that was coming in through the window. He did not allow himself to consider the fact that he had willingly placed himself in Albus' bed. His heart was racing, and he struggled to keep the sobering news that Albus had just lost his mother firmly in mind.
When Albus finally entered, the ferocity of his expression had come to almost match Aberforth's. Elphias was simply glad that he'd come alone. He heard the graceful whoosh of the Inspectors flying away outside.
"Did they determine what happened?" Elphias asked. He leaned up onto his elbows and then sat up straight when his posture seemed too lewd for the occasion.
"No." Albus slammed the door behind him. "Thankfully."
"Thankfully? I mean what happened to your mother, Albus."
"Yes, I know. What happened was an accident." Albus leaned back against his bedroom door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, his eyes unfocused and his arms slack at his sides. "Ariana was involved."
"Involved?" Elphias felt sick to his stomach. He stayed on the bed, though he wanted to go to Albus and hold his hands or his knees or his ears, some part of him.
"Where is Ariana now?" Elphias asked. He'd never seen the girl, but he'd heard plenty of stories about what she was capable of. He tried to imagine the sort of power Albus had if it was completely unleashed and wild; it was a terrifying thought.
"She's locked in the basement," Albus said. "You're safe," he added bitterly when Elphias let out his breath in relief.
"You've said yourself that she shouldn't be here, that your mother and brother --" Elphias stopped himself at the mention of Albus' mother. He crossed the room, but Albus scrambled to stand up as he approached.
"I told you not to come," Albus said. The room went dark as if a cloud had passed over the sun. Elphias looked up at the ceiling and saw that rain clouds were gathering there, though outside the day was still clear.
"Please," Elphias said, reaching for Albus, who only batted his hands away. "I don't want you to be alone."
"I'll always feel alone when I look at you now," Albus said, his voice suddenly snatched up. He turned away from Elphias to hide his tears.
"Albus," Elphias said, his own eyes beginning to water. "I don't know what you want from me."
"Fine, then." Albus was still turned away from him. "I'll show you."
Elphias had no idea what he could mean by that, and even as Albus grabbed him and fell onto him he was expecting a slap or a bite more than a kiss. He went rigid in Albus' hands, and kept his eyes open as Albus, whose eyes were shut and still wet, licked across his bottom lip again, and again, and again. Elphias' eyes fell shut as Albus' tongue slid between his parting lips, but then something shifted at the center of him and he yelped in alarm, shoving Albus away.
"Stop that!" he huffed, his breath and vision and even his skin shattered. He couldn't get his bearings, and he stumbled against the wall, turned away from Albus. "You're mad," he said, still breathless, not sure if he was speaking to Albus or himself.
"I suppose I am," Albus said, his voice a beaten ghost of a thing. Elphias clung to the wall as if it had handles, afraid to look at Albus. He heard the door open.
"You had better go," Albus said. "Go on that trip you were so excited about. There's no place for me there and I don't want you here."
Elphias didn't move. He was shaking in a profound, full-body sort of way that he had never before experienced. He didn't trust that he could move, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go.
"Get out!" Albus screamed, and a crack of lightening split across the blackening ceiling above them. Elphias ran out into the hall blindly, and once he was back in the twittering light of the summer morning, he Apparated away with a crack, as if the lightning had followed him and struck.
*
Letter composed on June 4, 1899 and sent on June 14, 1899:
Dear Albus,
I am presently on the North American continent, in the southernmost desert of Nevada. Have met several wizards. The most fascinating magic on the continent thus far is practiced by the natives. Unfortunately, I have not yet encountered one who speaks a word of English. They have been kind, however. I am learning things.
Hope all is well with you.
Your friend,
Elphias Doge
Letter received on June 21, 1899:
Elphias,
I find it quite amusing that you signed your letter to me with both your first and surnames, as if I have already mixed you in with the many Elphiases in my life and require a qualifier. I mentioned this to my friend Gellert and he agreed that it was rather hilarious that a friend of seven years would sign a curt letter regarding his travels with both of his names. Gellert is staying with a neighbor friend for the summer and has become a very dear companion of mine in a very short period. It is funny how friendships come and go, yes? He is the most intellectually fascinating and emotionally complex wizard I have ever met, and I never would have expected someone so complementary to my own tastes to drop into my lap during a dull summer at home, but I feel almost that something like fate had a hand in our meeting. At any rate, do not worry that I am lonely; it is I who am concerned about you, actually. Isn't it a bit tedious, traveling alone? Particularly when your companions apparently do not speak your language? I am, however, pleased to hear that you are learning things. Hopefully by this you meant spells and charms and not varieties of American and native pipe weed.
All my best,
Albus (Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, to clarify)
Letter composed on June 21, 1899, unsent:
To Albus "Pale White Butt-licking" Dumbledore,
I am so sorry to have offended your delicate sensibilities by daring to do something so bold and thoughtless as to sign my full name to a letter. Forgive me, and please pass my forgiveness along to your soul mate "Gellert," who I'm sure is in fact a real boy who coincidentally moved into the house next to yours the moment I left and proceeded to impress you and declare his undying devotion to you as you have apparently done to him. Yes, I'm quite sure I'm the one running around and wasting my time smoking and drinking and that you are home having fabulous intellectual discussions with a wizard of your caliber (finally! it must be such a relief!) and not simply writing spiteful letters to someone who has got on with his life while you sit home and invent imaginary friends in an infantile attempt to make said person who has left you behind jealous. I hope you and "Gellert," which does not sound at all like a name you invented while you were pissed on firewhiskey, have a wonderful summer - nay, life!! -- together.
--E.D.
Letter composed on June 22 and sent the following afternoon:
Albus,
Good on you for making friends. How lucky. I am currently in Antarctica with the team of research wizards we wrote to back in March. They are studying the magical properties of the Northern Lights and I'm sure you would find it quite fascinating. My warming charms grow weaker every day as I forget what the feeling of warmth was like and therefore have trouble conjuring it. I'm sure this is hilarious to you. I will be moving on soon to Japan. It is a pity that you did not join me because that, if I recall, was the country you were most looking forward to visiting. I shall have to bring back a kimono for you.
(ha ha. That was a joke.)
Best,
Elphias
Letter received on July 7, 1899:
Dear Elphias,
I am in receipt of your letter of several weeks ago. Forgive me, old friend, for not responding sooner, but it has been a surprisingly busy summer! I am sure when you read that you will imagine me having the sort of great adventures and fantastic travels that you spent your school days fantasizing about as you imagined the life of an Auror, but my adventures have been of a different sort. I spend most days and go very late into most evenings just talking, but the hours fly in a way that makes me mourn the sunsets. Gellert and I have discussed every facet of magical history and government and theory, and I never felt stimulated like this even during my studies at Hogwarts. Oh, Elphias, I wish I could describe this feeling in a way that you could understand. I want to apologize to you for projecting all of my angst onto you for so many years and for expecting you to understand it when I foolishly followed my desire to talk about my feelings with you openly. Now that I have experienced the exhilarating connection of true friendship, I find myself feeling so selfish for trying to manufacture something similar with you. You and I were in a comfortable old rut of mundane misunderstanding, and we might have gone on that way forever if you hadn't told me so bluntly and helpfully that things between us were never as I imagined. I thank you for that, old friend! Now that I have known the joy of true friendship I can say unequivocally: I was wrong to want anything more from you than the amicable camaraderie we shared as school boys. I apologize for gushing, but it is in my nature to make amends now that I feel as though my mind has been cleared of the troublesome emotional clutter that once hobbled me.
I expect you have made it to China by now? Do bring back some green tea for me if you can manage!
All my best,
Albus
Partial letter composed on July 9, unsent:
I am indeed in China. I was planning to leave for Russia on the day I received your letter, but since I read it I have been in a state of anguish and shock unlike anything I have ever experienced, and I dare'nt risk Apparition. I'm sure you meant to hurt me, but even so. How could you, Albus? How could you dismiss me that way even in the darkest moment of whatever spite you harbor? I may be disinterested in residing in your bed, as perhaps this other fellow does, but I have always been a good and true friend to you and we have always
Letter composed on July 9, unsent:
Albus,
Congratulations on achieving "true" friendship. I am so sorry to have wasted your time with my pale imitation. Perhaps someday I will be mature and wise enough to enjoy the kind of transcendental relationship you describe. May you and Gilliam or whatever his name is go on talking and talking until you've solved all the world's problems together.
Your Former and Apparently Always Inadequate Friend,
Elphias
Letter composed over a period from July 10 through July 15, 1899, and sent on July 17, 1899:
Dear Albus,
I am so happy to hear your news. I will not accept your apology for your "angst," however (I am in fact not even entirely sure what you mean by that). You've no need to apologize for anything. I apologize for being daft and cruel and dull and for making you feel as if you had to continue to put up with me. You said once that you loved me, but you've clearly now realized that you actually did not.
I feel as though I had something else to say but it's been several days and I cannot come up with anything.
Best wishes in all your future endeavors,
Elphias
Letter received on July 19, 1899:
Dear Elphias,
I have received your letter dated July 17 and it has preoccupied my thoughts for a full day now. My dear friend Gellert has grown annoyed with my distraction and has advised me to respond with nothing short of straightforward honesty.
You were clearly hurt by my previous letter, and I must admit that that was my intention, though I did not believe my childish plot would work, as I thought I meant so little to you that being dismissed by me would scarcely affect you at all. I have to also admit that I was glad to be proven wrong about that, and though I felt extreme guilt upon receiving your letter there was also a fair measure of satisfaction, as if I had taken my revenge upon you. I don't think I am skilled enough with language to ever possibly convey how much you hurt me on the afternoon of the Leaving Feast. Yes, I would have been hurt by even the gentlest rejection, but your shock and horror at my admission was filtered through nothing that felt like concern for my feelings or the protective instincts of a close friend. I did not think that you could possibly inflict any more pain upon me, until the incident in Godric's Hollow on the following afternoon.
So I wanted to hurt you, Elphias, and apparently I have. My goal achieved, I am left with the feeling of emptiness that I should have expected. Gellert and I have been discussing my feelings for you and by talking about it I have been able to work my way through much of the lingering pain. I apologize for my hurtful letter and my base desire for revenge. I no longer harbor any ill will toward you, though of course I still have at least a modicum of resentment that I must take responsibility for. I think that, in time, we could be friends again. But it will indeed take time, and I hope that when I see you again I will have outgrown the pettiness that caused me to insincerely dismiss the years we had together at Hogwarts in my last letter. Those years will always be dear to me, Elphias, whatever ultimately became of them.
Please take care of yourself, and do not hesitate to write again. I enjoy hearing of your travels.
Albus Dumbledore
Letter composed on July 21, 1899, unsent:
Dear Albus,
Take your bloody magnanimity and shove it up your arse. I don't need your forgiveness or your reflections or anything from you at all.
Speaking of things going up your arse, I had a wank to the thought of you last night. I pounded your rosy arse and you loved it. Ha ha.
Elphias Doge
Letter composed and sent on July 30, 1899:
Dear Albus,
Thank you for your letter. How I did always love having you explain the obvious to me. I am currently in Venice and the weather is beautiful. I've heard the summer in England has been cold and wet. Pity. I met a witch named Samara in India and she has been traveling with me since then. She speaks perfect English and we get along famously. I'm rather thinking of asking her to marry me. She's very traditional and an excellent cook. Mum would have a fit if I married a foreigner, but we can't help who we love, can we? Speaking of that, have you married your darling Gellert yet? Ha ha.
My congratulations to you both, if so,
Elphias Doge
Letter composed and sent on August 2, 1899:
Dear Elphias,
I showed your last letter to Gellert and he quite agrees with me that I should not have to put up with jokes about what I "am" and the nature of my relationship with him. If you want to hear it put frankly: yes, that relationship is sexual in nature, though it is also much more than that, and having it reduced to a crude joke in your letters is not something that I feel like I have to take even from a friend I've had so long as you. Gellert feels it is particularly insensitive given what transpired between us just before our friendship ended.
It is very sad for me to admit that it has, in fact, ended. I began this letter with the intention of pleading that you try to remain civil in our communications or risk losing me as even an acquaintance forever, but as I sit writing it I'm becoming more and more angry and I don't see why you should be given that chance.
So, farewell, Elphias. I wish you luck with your plan to marry a "traditional" woman, whatever on earth that means, and I hope you will wish Gellert and me luck with our own plans, which are glorious indeed. I would attempt to explain them to you, but you always had a fondness for our Muggleborn classmates, and I suspect you would completely miss the logic of what I have come to believe and present me with some base sentimental objections. Perhaps someday we will pass on the street and nod politely.
Until then, I remain,
Albus Dumbledore
Letter composed and sent on August 2, 1899:
Albus, you fool. This is the first time all summer that I have believed your companion "Gellert" to be an actual person and not just a figment of your imagination. You've taken up with a supremacist, haven't you? Like father, like son, Albus? You were once so ashamed to even be related to someone who took up with that sort, even though your father's impetus for that line of thinking was extreme grief and anger, something at least more respectful than desperation and lust.
As upset as I am, I am also worried. I still care for you, Albus. Perhaps you and Gellert will laugh uproariously at this declaration as you surely read my letter together, but I have come to know this quite well over the past months without you. If I passed you on the street I would not nod politely and go about my business. I would stand still and watch you pass me by with bitter disdain, and then I would turn the corner and weep for what I lost.
I have realized, at last, that what has happened to us was all my fault. A slow learner, as ever. Laugh it up, I suppose.
Yours always,
Elphias
Letter received on August 17, 1899:
Elphias
Come home at once.
I need you.
Albus
Continued
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Albus Dumbledore/Elphias Doge
Rating: R
Summary: Albus shocks Elphias with some news on the day of their graduation from Hogwarts. Elphias embarks on their planned trip around the world without Albus, and their correspondence is rather fraught.
A/N: This was my hp_spring_fling fic for miss_morland, who requested Dumbledore/Doge, so I finally had a good excuse to write this pairing that I've been interested in since book seven. Thank you to chlorate for the beta work and the thoughts on "in the manner of the Greeks," etc. ;)
Elphias Doge had never been happier than he was on the afternoon of his last Leaving Feast at Hogwarts. He was preparing to embark the following morning on a tour of the world with his best friend since first year, and they were going to see all of the places Elphias had only dreamed and read about, have fantastic adventures and get in loads of ultimately harmless trouble in every remote corner of the wizarding world. He could not seem to keep his leg still; it was bouncing under the Gryffindor table as he sat there for the last time, stuffing his face with pumpkin bread and roast chicken and anything he could get his hands on. His appetite often matched his moods, and on that day it felt unstoppable. Albus, meanwhile, was sitting next to him and looking wan as he picked at a small helping of potatoes.
"You can't possibly think you did badly on your exams," Elphias said, skipping over the part where he asked if something was wrong. He knew Albus' every look and posture and understood already that something was bothering him.
"No," Albus said. "It's just that my stomach's a bit unsettled. Too much excitement, I suppose."
Elphias elbowed his friend the way he always did when Albus began talking like he was his own grandmother. Albus was the smartest boy -- man! -- and the most talented wizard Elphias and everyone else at Hogwarts had ever known. Sometimes his brilliance translated to an emotional maturity that made Elphias feel as though he were much younger than Albus, though in fact they'd been born only a month apart.
"What, then, no celebratory pints down at the Three Broomsticks tonight?" Elphias said in a pout. The drinking down in Hogsmeade had always been part of their plan to celebrate their new freedom, and Elphias had been looking forward to seeing a drunken Albus. Albus never snuck sips of firewhiskey with the others during Hogsmeade trips. He took his prefect status much too seriously, and Elphias hoped that the burden of Albus' good behavior would not haunt them so constantly once they were free of school.
"I'm sure I'll feel better by this evening," Albus said, smiling shakily. Elphias had never seen him look so anxious and wound-up, but he might have expected as much since they were finally leaving Hogwarts, which meant more to Albus than it did to Elphias and most of the other students. Albus had had it a bit rough at home since his father's arrest, and he took refuge in the school that had recognized and celebrated his gifts since his first year. Elphias could still remember their first Transfiguration class together. The professor was stuck speechless when Albus somehow transfigured a tea kettle into a bewildered-looking adult moose with fantastic antlers.
"You'd better get well fast," Elphias said, slinging an arm around his friend. "At least by tomorrow morning. First stop: darkest Africa."
"Don't call it darkest Africa," Albus said, smiling a little. Elphias smiled back and leaned to laugh onto his shoulder. Albus was always correcting Elphias' speech and ideas and spell work, and sometimes they got into rows when Elphias felt Albus was treating him like an embarrassing younger brother, but most of the time he secretly enjoyed Albus' exasperation with him.
After eating, Albus persuaded Elphias to take a nostalgic walk around the grounds, and Elphias was glad to go, mostly because it was an encouraging sign that Albus was willing to miss the professors' boring speeches in lieu of something that was, perhaps, technically against the rules. Elphias wasn't entirely sure; he felt effervescent, living in a space between school and adulthood for one final day, unable to tell if he was defying boundaries or simply beginning to make his own choices.
"It's a lovely day, don't you think?" Albus said as they made their way toward the meadow behind the manicured garden toward which the professors tended to gravitate while the students spread out in the front courtyard. Elphias laughed and tugged on Albus' arm. Albus still looked a bit green, and he was talking about the weather. Elphias would have to raid the hospital wing before leaving Hogwarts if Albus was coming down with something, because there was no way he would allow even a portion of their trip to be canceled.
"Let's walk down by the lake and see who's having some last chance sex," Elphias said. "Ten sickles on Bonnie Bedford and Zachary McDougall."
"No, Elphias, please." Albus frowned deeply. "Quit joking."
"Who said I was joking? And can't I just be happy, Albus? I know you're upset about leaving Hogwarts, but I've been counting down the days. Now we'll be Aurors like we've always talked about! This trip around the world will be just a preview. When we come back we'll begin the training and then we'll be sent out on missions to places we've never even heard about --"
"Elphias, you're cutting off the circulation in my arm," Albus remarked lightly. Elphias looked down to see that he was indeed squeezing Albus' arm quite tightly, and he laughed at himself. He let go and smacked Albus on the back.
"Don't blame me for being excited," Elphias said. "I thought you might be a little excited yourself, actually. At least about our trip."
"I am," Albus said, so emphatically that Elphias laughed again. Albus stopped walking and turned to Elphias, then looked about the meadow as if he were afraid they were being spied on. "Elphias," he said. "I'm so excited, you've no idea."
"Are you ill, then? If you are we should go to the hospital wing straight away, I wouldn't want you -"
"No, I'm not ill. At least not in any way that a potion from the school nurse could cure. Come here."
He took Elphias' hand and led him further into the meadow, where the trees were thicker and the grass was taller. Elphias followed along obediently, a sense that something was truly wrong sitting heavy at the pit of his stomach. He regretted eating so much at the leaving feast.
"Where are we going?" Elphias asked as Albus brought him to the very edge of the woods. Albus sighed as if he'd been dreading that question and dropped Elphias' hand. He gestured to a felled log that had tiny purple mushrooms growing on it. Elphias hoped that Albus didn't intend to enlist him in harvesting potion ingredients on their last day at Hogwarts.
"Sit, please," Albus said when Elphias stood staring at him in confusion. Elphias did as he was told, a frown deepening on his forehead. Albus sat down beside him and smoothed out his robes, a habit he had when he was nervous. Elphias had only seen Albus nervous twice before: when he turned down Wendy Fitzwilliam's invitation to dance at a ball during their fifth year, and the first time he'd written home to tell his mother that he would be spending the winter holiday with Elphias and his family.
"Albus," Elphias said. "You're beginning to worry me."
"Yes, I know," Albus said, his voice thin with the effort of getting it past his lips. He wouldn't look at Elphias directly, and then when he did, his blue eyes were shimmering wetly. "I have something to tell you," he said.
"Oh, God, you can't make the trip, can you?" Elphias groaned and put his head in his hands, then shot back up to look at Albus again. "What is it, what's happened? Can't it wait until we get back, whatever it is?"
"I don't think it can," Albus said. He started to reach for Elphias and then drew his hand back. "But I do hope we can still go on our trip."
"What? Oh, good, you frightened me." Elphias couldn't imagine what else could possibly be wrong. Albus wasn't ill, and he wasn't canceling their summer plans. He hadn't done poorly on his exams -- the mere idea was laughable -- and he hadn't had any Howlers or otherwise alarming letters from home in the past few days, at least not as far as Elphias knew. He put an arm around Albus and found that he was trembling.
"I've imagined this moment for such a long time," Albus said. He looked up into Elphias' face and then away again, then back.
"What moment?" Elphias asked. He looked around the meadow, but it was quiet and calm, buzzing with insects whose wings glowed in the late afternoon sunlight.
"Elphias," Albus said. "Do you recall in fourth year? Your -- that girl -- Victoria -- who you were -- seeing?"
"Oh, vaguely, yes. That was so long ago -- trying to rub the fact that I haven't done much courting in my face, are you? You're hardly one to talk!" Elphias laughed, and removed his arm from Albus' shoulders when the weight of it only seemed to increase his trembling.
"She was the only one," Albus said. He wiped sweat from his upper lip. "And, my God, I have never hated anyone so passionately."
"Yes, I rather came to hate her myself. What on earth does she have to do with anything now? You haven't come to fancy her, have you? Oh, Merlin's beard, Albus, you haven't got her in trouble --"
"Elphias, you are really exceptionally daft!" Albus said, standing. "I've brought you out here to tell you I've been in love with you for five years and I can't get two bloody words out before you accuse me of impregnating your former girlfriend!"
Elphias stared up at Albus for almost a full minute before he burst into laughter. Albus had his fists clenched and his shoulders raised and Elphias waited for him to crack a smile and break out laughing himself, then slowly wound down to silence when he didn't.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Elphias asked, frowning again. Albus growled in frustration and yanked him up from his seat.
"I said I love you!" Their noses were almost touching as Albus glared at Elphias, waiting for him to do something about it. He looked as if he were set to accuse him of administering a love potion.
"Love me?" Elphias squeaked, still terribly confused.
"Yes, you idiot! How on earth you've managed to miss this is the great mystery of my life. When you broke up with Victoria I hugged you as if you'd won the Triwizard Tournament, don't you recall? And when that Ravenclaw girl asked me to dance at the ball in fifth year I hurt her feelings by turning her down, and I felt horrible for it but I had to, you see, lest you get the wrong idea. Last year I knitted you a sweater for your birthday like a lovesick ninny and two months ago I brought up the fact that we may have to share a bed during our travels and you beamed at me as if that was what you were looking forward to most!"
Albus was huffing when he finished his speech, and Elphias' eyes were two galleons, wide and glossy. He thought of the afternoon when Albus had discussed the possibility of sharing a bed in some of the more remote regions they planned to travel, and he tried to recall his reaction. He'd laughed, hadn't he? It was funny, wasn't it? Two boys in the same bed? Funny, queer, et cetera. Elphias stepped backward.
"Albus," he said, and then he didn't know how to continue. He fell back, his arse narrowly missing the tree trunk they'd been sitting on and sliding to the ground instead.
"Are you in the process of fainting?" Albus asked, kneeling down. Elphias shook his head.
"My fingers are tingling," he observed blandly.
"They are?" Albus asked. Elphias had never heard such naive hope flood into Albus' voice. It was distressing. Albus reached for his hand, but Elphias pulled away. What was Albus expecting him to do about all this nonsense? Grab his ears and knock him over backward with a kiss?
"I suppose I was hoping that our trip could be more than a gap year romp," Albus said, sitting beside him but not too close, as if Elphias were a wild animal who startled easily.
"You were hoping it would be a gay year?" Elphias said with a disbelieving scoff, his vision still blurred. Though Albus wasn't touching him, he felt the change in the air beside him when he went stiff with rejection. Elphias bit down on his tongue. He simply couldn't accept the fact that Albus was serious. But what if he was? But how could that be possible?
"I thought," Albus said, pressing his hands over his robes to smooth away wrinkles that were not there. "I thought -- since you've never -- well, you haven't had many girls, just the one, and that was, and I thought --"
"Plenty of boys don't have girls at school!" Elphias shouted, jumping up. His heart had caught up with the rest of him and it was beating savagely in his chest. "It doesn't mean they don't want them! I didn't have girls after me all the time the way you have -- oh, I should have known! Listen, I didn't even know you knitted that sweater, I thought you forgot to buy me something so you just wrapped up one of your old ones!"
Albus closed his eyes. A pair of fat tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped off of his chin while Elphias stood in shock, not knowing if he should run or throw his arms around his friend to comfort him. He would rather the latter, but he didn't want to give him the wrong idea.
"I'm sorry, Albus," Elphias said, scratching the back of his head. "I think you're -- incredible, like everyone, but --"
"Oh, like everyone, of course!" Albus wiped his eyes with his robes and glowered up at Elphias like he was ready to take it all back. "Everyone knows how fabulously talented and wise beyond his years that Dumbledore boy is, yes, yes, it's very well established. But I thought you were different, oh, I wanted you to be different!" He broke into tears again, and again Elphias struggled not to fall down beside him and gather him up.
"You were always touching me," Albus cried. "As if I were like you, just another student, not some walking monument to greatness. And you were always saying the wrong thing and joking and never trying to win me over. You always just knew that you already had me, oh, Elphias, I thought that you knew."
"I didn't know any of this!" Elphias said, indignant at the thought that he'd been expected to. "Oh, stop crying, won't you? This is all too strange to bear."
Albus brought the sleeve of his robe up to his face and sucked in his breath as if he were drawing air from the fabric. When he lifted his face again the sight of his ruined eyes and blotchy cheeks made Elphias feel as if he'd lost the ability to breathe himself.
"I'm so sorry to have burdened you," Albus said. "You may leave me to my strangeness now, as it's clear you have nothing to offer me."
"Don't say such things!" Elphias said. His body felt like it was emptying out, like dark wizards had snuck up behind him to cast spells that were designed to steal everything he had and leave him hollow. "I have a lot to offer you, Albus, you're my closest friend and I can't live without your company --"
"You're only saying so because you don't want your damn summer plans spoiled." Albus stood and took a breath as if to steady himself. Elphias had never seen him cry before and wasn't surprised when he quickly reined himself in.
"No!" Elphias said, though he was already mourning the trip that was now surely spoiled. "We were to be Aurors together, Albus, and share a flat in London --"
"Well, I've ruined all of that now, haven't I?" Albus said. He began to walk out of the meadow and Elphias followed, tripping over stones and twigs in his eagerness. "Now you know I want you not just in my flat but in my bed, and neither you nor I will ever be able to forget it."
Elphias stopped in his tracks, paralyzed by the sentiment. Albus walked on without looking back, and Elphias sincerely feared that he'd been turned to stone by those words, a powerful spell Albus had crafted himself: I want you in my bed. Elphias had no idea what went on between two men who shared a bed -- he had only a vague concept about what went on between and man and a woman -- and he could only get as far as imagining Albus' bare, freckled shoulder protruding from beneath the blankets before he shook the thoughts away. When he had freed himself from his temporary imprisonment there in the meadow, Albus was gone.
*
Elphias skipped the Three Broomsticks that night and shut himself up in the empty room in Gryffindor Tower that he shared with Albus and two other chaps. He closed his bed curtains and lay on his back, staring at the canopy over his bed and waiting for the sound of anyone approaching. The whole Tower was quiet; everyone was either out celebrating the end of the school year or had already taken the first train home after the feast. The quiet felt like an enemy, and Elphias was tempted to take his wand from the bedside table and clutch it against his chest in case something sprung out of the darkness to attack him.
His chest was heaving and he had no hope of sleep. Albus in love with him all along. How preposterous! Elphias was still waiting for someone to throw his bed curtains open and tell him he'd only been involved in a fantastic prank. It was true that Albus' lack of attention to the opposite sex had seemed odd at times, but Elphias had always assumed he was simply too preoccupied with his studies to make time for girls. The rest of Albus' so-called hints of his true feelings were all normal friendship-related activities, as far as Elphias was concerned. Exchanging gifts, making plans together, occasionally grasping each other's hands or shoulders or arms. Albus was mad to think that anything more had been going on. It eventually occurred to Elphias that he hadn't thought but merely hoped, and he continued to feel horrible for the way he had behaved in the meadow, but what else could he have done? It would have been an insult to both of them if he'd tried to hide his profound shock.
Elphias heard Benjamin Tuttle and Marcus Courtland return together after an indiscernible amount of time, and he listened jealously as they laughed and teased each other all the way to their separate beds. Things would never be that way with Albus again. It was almost dawn by the time Albus returned; Elphias recognized the soft way he always shut the door and the elegant pad of his footsteps across the thick carpet. He ached to throw his bed curtains open and beg Albus to forget everything that had happened in the meadow. Elphias was willing to try. They could still have their trip, and Albus would eventually fancy someone else. Maybe even a girl. Probably he was just dreadfully confused. Something to do with his turbulent family life, certainly.
He listened as Albus prepared for bed and then pulled his own curtains shut. Before this terrible incident that had split them apart, Elphias had often crept across the room after the others were asleep and drawn Albus' curtains back to whisper some news or idea or plan for their trip that he'd forgotten to tell him about during the day. Thinking of the way Albus had smiled up at him when he did this made him sick with regret. Was it perhaps his own fault that Albus had fixated on him in such an unhealthy way? What was that nonsense about touching him all the time? Did he really? What of it, if so?
Elphias slept horribly, and what little rest he could manage was broken up before sunrise by a commotion in the room. He grumbled in annoyance and sat up, the memories of what had happened the day before spilling back into him like filthy black water and ruining the new day in advance. He rubbed his eyes and recognized several of the voices that had woken him: Albus and the head of their house, Professor Perryman.
"Please, Albus," Perryman said, whispering. "We should discuss this out in the common room."
"What's happened?" Albus was frantic; Elphias had the horrible notion that perhaps Albus suspected he'd turned him in to the professors for the crime of perversion.
"It's some very bad news, I'm afraid." That was Madame Humphrey, the school nurse. "Please just come with us and we'll explain."
Elphias could hear the sound of Albus' labored breathing, and he poked his head out from his bed curtains to show him that he wasn't afraid to face him, that he didn't have anything to hide. Albus cast a terrified look back at him as Professor Perryman and Madame Humphrey led him from the room.
When they were gone, Elphias catapulted himself out of bed and dressed in a hurry. He went out to the hall and peeked down from the landing into the common room, where Albus was sitting on an ottoman and looking rather green as Madame Humphrey spoke to him in a hushed voice.
"A terrible accident," she said. "I'm so sorry, dear. I'm sure you'll want to go home at once."
"Do you need help gathering your things?" Perryman asked. He looked uncomfortable. Albus seemed to still be half-asleep, though Elphias knew that he never had trouble waking and was always fully alert and conscious as soon as he was out of bed.
"I -- I can get my things myself," Albus said after a few moments and an anxious glance between Perryman and Humphrey. He stood, and Humphrey seemed reluctant to release his arm from her sympathetic grasp.
"Can I get you anything, dear?" she asked as Albus slumped away from her. "A Calming Draught? Some tea -- a hot toddy, perhaps?"
"No, thank you," Albus said. He reached the stairs, and Elphias slunk back into the shadows to wait for him. When Albus walked into the hall he saw Elphias lurking there and stared at him. His face was much whiter than usual.
"What's happened?" Elphias whispered. "Are you in some sort of trouble?" He hoped to communicate with his tone that he was fully prepared to be of assistance, regardless of the previous day's fiasco.
"My mother," Albus said. He stared at Elphias as if he should be able to guess the rest. "There was an accident at the house. She's dead."
Again, Elphias waited for Albus to indicate that the wild claims he was making were not true, but instead he just walked around Elphias toward their room.
"Wait!" Elphias grabbed his shoulder and spun him around. It was much easier than usual; Albus was bigger than Elphias but currently limp with shock. "Oh -- I'm so sorry -- oh, Albus -- do you know what happened?"
"I have a guess," Albus said. His eyes passed right through Elphias as if he was speaking to the wall, and Elphias felt a chill at the reminder of Albus' sister and the danger she posed to everyone around her. Surely it hadn't been the girl who killed her mother? It was too horrible to imagine.
"I'll come home with you," Elphias said. He wouldn't want Albus to have to face his sneering older brother and that wild girl alone. Albus shook his head slowly, and his eyes at last seemed to focus on Elphias' face.
"No." He pulled out of Elphias' grip. "Just leave me alone."
"Albus!" Elphias followed him down the hall, his fists curling and uncurling with frustration, as if his own need to comfort Albus was as important as Albus' need to be comforted. Albus did a good job of ignoring him and acting as if he were sleepwalking. He began packing his things into his trunk, and Elphias scrambled to help him. It had been years since he'd seen Albus voluntarily do something that could be done with magic by hand, and it was a startling sight.
"You are not coming with me," Albus said as they worked.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, of course I am!"
"I cannot be near you right now, Elphias," Albus said, the pressure in his voice coiling tighter.
"Why not? Who cares what happened yesterday, Albus? Bugger that, this is important."
"What happened yesterday was important to me," Albus said. Elphias had never seen the pale blue in his eyes look so dangerous. For the first time he imagined Albus not as his laughing Auror chum but as a deadly force who would quickly outrank him.
"But you can't be alone," Elphias said weakly. Albus slammed the trunk shut, nearly crushing the lid onto Elphias' thumbs.
"I won't be alone," Albus said. "And even if I should be, having you there would hardly matter."
"How can you say that to me?" Elphias asked, still on his knees as Albus stood to levitate his trunk. By now, Benjamin and Marcus had peeked out from their bed curtains to see what was going on. "You can't hate me just for not -- for not --" Elphias was whispering now but still couldn't quite articulate what Albus wanted from him, the only image he could conjure that of a large bed with seedy red sheets.
"You think that's why I'm angry?" Albus asked, not bothering to whisper. "No, Elphias, I couldn't hate you for not reacting the way I'd hoped you would. But I never expected -- I -- I feel as if I don't know you at all, as if I never did. I've been wrong about everything all along."
"And that's my fault?" Elphias shouted, withholding a remark about Albus' inability to accept that he could ever possibly be wrong about anything.
"Perhaps it is my fault," Albus said. His face was blank, and he looked like the sort of untouchable statue of a person that he had lamented becoming the day before. "In fact, I'm inclined to believe that it is. But I'm afraid that doesn't change the fact that I no longer want you anywhere near me." He stormed out of the room with his trunk following, and Elphias scoffed at his attempted escape, undeterred.
Ignoring the questions of his suite mates, Elphias ran after Albus, all the way out to the field in front of the castle, where Albus Apparated away. Elphias Apparated as well, and landed on his feet in the town square of Godric's Hollow. He'd been there to visit Albus a few times before, and had met his mother only once during his seven years of friendship with Albus. She was a dark, brooding woman who had looked at Elphias as if he were an intruder in her home.
He ran through the streets of the town, hoping that he would remember how to reach Albus' house once he saw a few familiar landmarks. It was a charming little village, the lanterns still lit as the sun began to rise lazily over the eastern hills. Elphias almost ran right past the Dumbledore household, which was set back from the main road in a glen that might have been cheerful, had the house within it not been in such blatant disrepair. A pair of fine brooms were leaning against the front gate, and Elphias recognized the gold badges stamped into their handles as he came closer: inspectors from the Ministry.
"Albus!" he shouted as he ran into the house. It was dark inside, and it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the somber scene in the sitting room. Albus was staring at him in infuriated shock, Aberforth was opposite him, looking as if his desire to kill Elphias was stronger than Albus' by tenfold, and the two inspectors were watching him with expressions of dull interest, as if he had come to explain the case to them.
"Elphias," Albus said, his voice so tight that Elphias wondered how he was managing to breathe. "Not now."
"I'll just wait in your room, then," Elphias bellowed, as if he belonged there. He slunk past the grim onlookers and heard Aberforth telling the inspectors that he was a pesky neighbor boy. When he reached Albus' bedroom he gladly shut the door behind him.
Albus' room looked no different than it had last time he'd been to Godric's Hollow. The curtains were musty and moth-nibbled, and the ceiling was still enchanted to match the weather outside. Elphias leaned back onto Albus' bed to watch the sun rise to match the light that was coming in through the window. He did not allow himself to consider the fact that he had willingly placed himself in Albus' bed. His heart was racing, and he struggled to keep the sobering news that Albus had just lost his mother firmly in mind.
When Albus finally entered, the ferocity of his expression had come to almost match Aberforth's. Elphias was simply glad that he'd come alone. He heard the graceful whoosh of the Inspectors flying away outside.
"Did they determine what happened?" Elphias asked. He leaned up onto his elbows and then sat up straight when his posture seemed too lewd for the occasion.
"No." Albus slammed the door behind him. "Thankfully."
"Thankfully? I mean what happened to your mother, Albus."
"Yes, I know. What happened was an accident." Albus leaned back against his bedroom door and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, his eyes unfocused and his arms slack at his sides. "Ariana was involved."
"Involved?" Elphias felt sick to his stomach. He stayed on the bed, though he wanted to go to Albus and hold his hands or his knees or his ears, some part of him.
"Where is Ariana now?" Elphias asked. He'd never seen the girl, but he'd heard plenty of stories about what she was capable of. He tried to imagine the sort of power Albus had if it was completely unleashed and wild; it was a terrifying thought.
"She's locked in the basement," Albus said. "You're safe," he added bitterly when Elphias let out his breath in relief.
"You've said yourself that she shouldn't be here, that your mother and brother --" Elphias stopped himself at the mention of Albus' mother. He crossed the room, but Albus scrambled to stand up as he approached.
"I told you not to come," Albus said. The room went dark as if a cloud had passed over the sun. Elphias looked up at the ceiling and saw that rain clouds were gathering there, though outside the day was still clear.
"Please," Elphias said, reaching for Albus, who only batted his hands away. "I don't want you to be alone."
"I'll always feel alone when I look at you now," Albus said, his voice suddenly snatched up. He turned away from Elphias to hide his tears.
"Albus," Elphias said, his own eyes beginning to water. "I don't know what you want from me."
"Fine, then." Albus was still turned away from him. "I'll show you."
Elphias had no idea what he could mean by that, and even as Albus grabbed him and fell onto him he was expecting a slap or a bite more than a kiss. He went rigid in Albus' hands, and kept his eyes open as Albus, whose eyes were shut and still wet, licked across his bottom lip again, and again, and again. Elphias' eyes fell shut as Albus' tongue slid between his parting lips, but then something shifted at the center of him and he yelped in alarm, shoving Albus away.
"Stop that!" he huffed, his breath and vision and even his skin shattered. He couldn't get his bearings, and he stumbled against the wall, turned away from Albus. "You're mad," he said, still breathless, not sure if he was speaking to Albus or himself.
"I suppose I am," Albus said, his voice a beaten ghost of a thing. Elphias clung to the wall as if it had handles, afraid to look at Albus. He heard the door open.
"You had better go," Albus said. "Go on that trip you were so excited about. There's no place for me there and I don't want you here."
Elphias didn't move. He was shaking in a profound, full-body sort of way that he had never before experienced. He didn't trust that he could move, and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go.
"Get out!" Albus screamed, and a crack of lightening split across the blackening ceiling above them. Elphias ran out into the hall blindly, and once he was back in the twittering light of the summer morning, he Apparated away with a crack, as if the lightning had followed him and struck.
*
Letter composed on June 4, 1899 and sent on June 14, 1899:
Dear Albus,
I am presently on the North American continent, in the southernmost desert of Nevada. Have met several wizards. The most fascinating magic on the continent thus far is practiced by the natives. Unfortunately, I have not yet encountered one who speaks a word of English. They have been kind, however. I am learning things.
Hope all is well with you.
Your friend,
Elphias Doge
Letter received on June 21, 1899:
Elphias,
I find it quite amusing that you signed your letter to me with both your first and surnames, as if I have already mixed you in with the many Elphiases in my life and require a qualifier. I mentioned this to my friend Gellert and he agreed that it was rather hilarious that a friend of seven years would sign a curt letter regarding his travels with both of his names. Gellert is staying with a neighbor friend for the summer and has become a very dear companion of mine in a very short period. It is funny how friendships come and go, yes? He is the most intellectually fascinating and emotionally complex wizard I have ever met, and I never would have expected someone so complementary to my own tastes to drop into my lap during a dull summer at home, but I feel almost that something like fate had a hand in our meeting. At any rate, do not worry that I am lonely; it is I who am concerned about you, actually. Isn't it a bit tedious, traveling alone? Particularly when your companions apparently do not speak your language? I am, however, pleased to hear that you are learning things. Hopefully by this you meant spells and charms and not varieties of American and native pipe weed.
All my best,
Albus (Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, to clarify)
Letter composed on June 21, 1899, unsent:
To Albus "Pale White Butt-licking" Dumbledore,
I am so sorry to have offended your delicate sensibilities by daring to do something so bold and thoughtless as to sign my full name to a letter. Forgive me, and please pass my forgiveness along to your soul mate "Gellert," who I'm sure is in fact a real boy who coincidentally moved into the house next to yours the moment I left and proceeded to impress you and declare his undying devotion to you as you have apparently done to him. Yes, I'm quite sure I'm the one running around and wasting my time smoking and drinking and that you are home having fabulous intellectual discussions with a wizard of your caliber (finally! it must be such a relief!) and not simply writing spiteful letters to someone who has got on with his life while you sit home and invent imaginary friends in an infantile attempt to make said person who has left you behind jealous. I hope you and "Gellert," which does not sound at all like a name you invented while you were pissed on firewhiskey, have a wonderful summer - nay, life!! -- together.
--E.D.
Letter composed on June 22 and sent the following afternoon:
Albus,
Good on you for making friends. How lucky. I am currently in Antarctica with the team of research wizards we wrote to back in March. They are studying the magical properties of the Northern Lights and I'm sure you would find it quite fascinating. My warming charms grow weaker every day as I forget what the feeling of warmth was like and therefore have trouble conjuring it. I'm sure this is hilarious to you. I will be moving on soon to Japan. It is a pity that you did not join me because that, if I recall, was the country you were most looking forward to visiting. I shall have to bring back a kimono for you.
(ha ha. That was a joke.)
Best,
Elphias
Letter received on July 7, 1899:
Dear Elphias,
I am in receipt of your letter of several weeks ago. Forgive me, old friend, for not responding sooner, but it has been a surprisingly busy summer! I am sure when you read that you will imagine me having the sort of great adventures and fantastic travels that you spent your school days fantasizing about as you imagined the life of an Auror, but my adventures have been of a different sort. I spend most days and go very late into most evenings just talking, but the hours fly in a way that makes me mourn the sunsets. Gellert and I have discussed every facet of magical history and government and theory, and I never felt stimulated like this even during my studies at Hogwarts. Oh, Elphias, I wish I could describe this feeling in a way that you could understand. I want to apologize to you for projecting all of my angst onto you for so many years and for expecting you to understand it when I foolishly followed my desire to talk about my feelings with you openly. Now that I have experienced the exhilarating connection of true friendship, I find myself feeling so selfish for trying to manufacture something similar with you. You and I were in a comfortable old rut of mundane misunderstanding, and we might have gone on that way forever if you hadn't told me so bluntly and helpfully that things between us were never as I imagined. I thank you for that, old friend! Now that I have known the joy of true friendship I can say unequivocally: I was wrong to want anything more from you than the amicable camaraderie we shared as school boys. I apologize for gushing, but it is in my nature to make amends now that I feel as though my mind has been cleared of the troublesome emotional clutter that once hobbled me.
I expect you have made it to China by now? Do bring back some green tea for me if you can manage!
All my best,
Albus
Partial letter composed on July 9, unsent:
I am indeed in China. I was planning to leave for Russia on the day I received your letter, but since I read it I have been in a state of anguish and shock unlike anything I have ever experienced, and I dare'nt risk Apparition. I'm sure you meant to hurt me, but even so. How could you, Albus? How could you dismiss me that way even in the darkest moment of whatever spite you harbor? I may be disinterested in residing in your bed, as perhaps this other fellow does, but I have always been a good and true friend to you and we have always
Letter composed on July 9, unsent:
Albus,
Congratulations on achieving "true" friendship. I am so sorry to have wasted your time with my pale imitation. Perhaps someday I will be mature and wise enough to enjoy the kind of transcendental relationship you describe. May you and Gilliam or whatever his name is go on talking and talking until you've solved all the world's problems together.
Your Former and Apparently Always Inadequate Friend,
Elphias
Letter composed over a period from July 10 through July 15, 1899, and sent on July 17, 1899:
Dear Albus,
I am so happy to hear your news. I will not accept your apology for your "angst," however (I am in fact not even entirely sure what you mean by that). You've no need to apologize for anything. I apologize for being daft and cruel and dull and for making you feel as if you had to continue to put up with me. You said once that you loved me, but you've clearly now realized that you actually did not.
I feel as though I had something else to say but it's been several days and I cannot come up with anything.
Best wishes in all your future endeavors,
Elphias
Letter received on July 19, 1899:
Dear Elphias,
I have received your letter dated July 17 and it has preoccupied my thoughts for a full day now. My dear friend Gellert has grown annoyed with my distraction and has advised me to respond with nothing short of straightforward honesty.
You were clearly hurt by my previous letter, and I must admit that that was my intention, though I did not believe my childish plot would work, as I thought I meant so little to you that being dismissed by me would scarcely affect you at all. I have to also admit that I was glad to be proven wrong about that, and though I felt extreme guilt upon receiving your letter there was also a fair measure of satisfaction, as if I had taken my revenge upon you. I don't think I am skilled enough with language to ever possibly convey how much you hurt me on the afternoon of the Leaving Feast. Yes, I would have been hurt by even the gentlest rejection, but your shock and horror at my admission was filtered through nothing that felt like concern for my feelings or the protective instincts of a close friend. I did not think that you could possibly inflict any more pain upon me, until the incident in Godric's Hollow on the following afternoon.
So I wanted to hurt you, Elphias, and apparently I have. My goal achieved, I am left with the feeling of emptiness that I should have expected. Gellert and I have been discussing my feelings for you and by talking about it I have been able to work my way through much of the lingering pain. I apologize for my hurtful letter and my base desire for revenge. I no longer harbor any ill will toward you, though of course I still have at least a modicum of resentment that I must take responsibility for. I think that, in time, we could be friends again. But it will indeed take time, and I hope that when I see you again I will have outgrown the pettiness that caused me to insincerely dismiss the years we had together at Hogwarts in my last letter. Those years will always be dear to me, Elphias, whatever ultimately became of them.
Please take care of yourself, and do not hesitate to write again. I enjoy hearing of your travels.
Albus Dumbledore
Letter composed on July 21, 1899, unsent:
Dear Albus,
Take your bloody magnanimity and shove it up your arse. I don't need your forgiveness or your reflections or anything from you at all.
Speaking of things going up your arse, I had a wank to the thought of you last night. I pounded your rosy arse and you loved it. Ha ha.
Elphias Doge
Letter composed and sent on July 30, 1899:
Dear Albus,
Thank you for your letter. How I did always love having you explain the obvious to me. I am currently in Venice and the weather is beautiful. I've heard the summer in England has been cold and wet. Pity. I met a witch named Samara in India and she has been traveling with me since then. She speaks perfect English and we get along famously. I'm rather thinking of asking her to marry me. She's very traditional and an excellent cook. Mum would have a fit if I married a foreigner, but we can't help who we love, can we? Speaking of that, have you married your darling Gellert yet? Ha ha.
My congratulations to you both, if so,
Elphias Doge
Letter composed and sent on August 2, 1899:
Dear Elphias,
I showed your last letter to Gellert and he quite agrees with me that I should not have to put up with jokes about what I "am" and the nature of my relationship with him. If you want to hear it put frankly: yes, that relationship is sexual in nature, though it is also much more than that, and having it reduced to a crude joke in your letters is not something that I feel like I have to take even from a friend I've had so long as you. Gellert feels it is particularly insensitive given what transpired between us just before our friendship ended.
It is very sad for me to admit that it has, in fact, ended. I began this letter with the intention of pleading that you try to remain civil in our communications or risk losing me as even an acquaintance forever, but as I sit writing it I'm becoming more and more angry and I don't see why you should be given that chance.
So, farewell, Elphias. I wish you luck with your plan to marry a "traditional" woman, whatever on earth that means, and I hope you will wish Gellert and me luck with our own plans, which are glorious indeed. I would attempt to explain them to you, but you always had a fondness for our Muggleborn classmates, and I suspect you would completely miss the logic of what I have come to believe and present me with some base sentimental objections. Perhaps someday we will pass on the street and nod politely.
Until then, I remain,
Albus Dumbledore
Letter composed and sent on August 2, 1899:
Albus, you fool. This is the first time all summer that I have believed your companion "Gellert" to be an actual person and not just a figment of your imagination. You've taken up with a supremacist, haven't you? Like father, like son, Albus? You were once so ashamed to even be related to someone who took up with that sort, even though your father's impetus for that line of thinking was extreme grief and anger, something at least more respectful than desperation and lust.
As upset as I am, I am also worried. I still care for you, Albus. Perhaps you and Gellert will laugh uproariously at this declaration as you surely read my letter together, but I have come to know this quite well over the past months without you. If I passed you on the street I would not nod politely and go about my business. I would stand still and watch you pass me by with bitter disdain, and then I would turn the corner and weep for what I lost.
I have realized, at last, that what has happened to us was all my fault. A slow learner, as ever. Laugh it up, I suppose.
Yours always,
Elphias
Letter received on August 17, 1899:
Elphias
Come home at once.
I need you.
Albus
Continued