Oplà. The first victim of my imagination since I joined this phenomenon of collective madness that is the Big Damn Table.
Good luck, cats. You will need it.
Title: Choices.
Fandom: Harry Potter Character
/ Torque : Gellert Grindelwald
Prompt: 086. Choices.
Rating: Pg13. (Let's start with something light, shall we?)
Word Count: 2036 Summary
: Gellert and Albus. After all, it's all a matter of choice.
Note: None of the characters in this ff appointed belongs to me, fortunately. If so, poor them.
Warning: Slash
Gellert,
your idea that domination is the magic for the good of Muggles ... I think this is the crucial point. Of course, we were given a certain power and this power gives us the right to govern, but also gives us responsibilities over the ruled. We must emphasize this point, it will be the cornerstone on which to build.
The swish of the cape Albus warned even before the stroke of his knuckles on the door. No "forward" and knows that it is not necessary. That knock is simply means that Aberforth is not around, and Ariana is in no position to harm anyone, probably in the arms of his brother. A shot of
knuckles: that all is within.
Two: clear the room visible from any document related to gifts, expect you to tell me something.
Gellert comes forward with his usual confident step, the golden hair that curls framing her face like it had just fallen on the land after a long flight.
- 'Day - says beaming, and reaches the point where Albus is sitting on the floor. He falls on his knees so that natural light and seems to have rested on a mattress instead of hard wood shaft.
course, his gaze now falls on the notes he is looking at Albus.
- Another old story behind that? - Says as soon as the book of Beda open there next. - We have scoured the story from beginning to end. -
His voice is deep, blood, and despite what he just said Albus can not help but notice his look of greed on the pages of Beedle the Bard, as we expect any minute Ignotus slip out from the cover and delivered in his hands his coat.
- I know - then answers - but a search is never inconsistent when you do it wisely. -
Gellert chuckles. - And what wisdom would you have sensible? - Then by lifting the pelvis from the heels you check out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. He opens it, puts it on the floor where it was first turned his eye to Albus and smooth it with an open hand. - Look at this -
It 's a family tree. Or at least what it seems at first glance to Albus. Then see the names of a serpentine arrow. The first name that appears on the top right is that of Antioch Peverell, connected with some dots Emeric the Evil One. Then, just below, an "X" and the name of the Dear Egbert. Another step to the left, some dots, and here's to show off "Godelot" in letters rounded. The cycle continues between points "X" to the last name: Tobhias Everedich.
Gellert Albus smiles and looks into her eyes. Only then Dumbledore note the deep shadows that touch the cheeks, eclipsed by his joy. - I did some research tonight - Grindelwald says, excited.
- The Elder Wand. - Albus the brake before you start to tell him everything. He knows what kind of research he did. - The dots are the gaps of information, right? -
Gellert nods ecstatic. - Exactly. And 'the cycle of stick in recent centuries. I consulted every book that sticks were in the central library and consulted the archives of magic performed by manufacturers of chopsticks. Not all are held all in your head like Ollivander. - Albus
makes a chuckle. - Ollivander has the most amazing memory I have ever seen. And the son, Rudis, on the same street. What Ravenclaw, you know. -
Gellert nods of assent. - In fact I managed to put together a fairly complete map, but these gaps puzzle me. And plus, Everedich ... -
- It 'died five years ago. -
- Precisely. -
- Then the rod must necessarily have found a successor. - Albus
notes Gellert noted names of the tree absorbed. It 'amazing how manage to understand each other without even looking.
continue to argue for hours, before he could make a list of possible owners of the cue of Death.
- Tecoror, the son of Everedich. Alemno, childhood friend. Fralgida, the number one rival in his studies at school. Gregorovich, the private student Defense Against the Dark Arts. Opkich, a business rival. Hederens old classmate. And finally Cappren, seems to have had some altercation during his last months of life. -
Gellert follows each name carefully with your finger written on the card as he speaks. - Too many - finally begins. Albus
Hederens dwells on, he does not seem to be capable of such an act. Too good-natured. But suppose it is better not to risk losing any solution to the riddle.
for the greater good, is repeated.
The words echo in the blood. He remembered the three Muggle boys who have attacked Ariana, her father in prison, his mother now under meters of land.
Muggles.
inept Without their ignorance, their absurd fear of the unknown, nothing of what had brought him there, forced to stay locked in that room, would take place. At that time he could
leave with Grindelwald, en route to its ambitions. But one day all this would change. Changed to the root. The Muggles have come to know and respect the magicians, to fear them.
He and Gellert were the pivot of the revolution that would upset the fragile and unsteady balance of both worlds. Strong, invincible with the Deathly Hallows. Nobody would have questioned the superiority of their people and the magic he would have thanked them for free of the unnecessary burden of secrecy, of confidentiality. He and Gellert
can. Only they, together. That night
Grindelwald is to sleep there. Aberforth is furious, keep repeating that Ariana could wake up in the middle of the night and make one of his, and that their "superior intellect damn" would not have helped them to return it to bed if they had been all night confabulation about the fate of the universe.
Albus gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. - You'll be fine - says the good-natured as any older brother.
Before you follow him in his room, he turns to Aberforth Gellert and looks at him intently. - One day you will no longer need you so much becomes restless. We think the Muggles to look after your sister, or her toys by explosives, whatever you want. - Aberforth
stares at him with wide eyes, then you start to heavy steps towards his room. Once flapping furiously in the door.
Gellert chuckles. - Did not inherit anything of your eh, Albus? Who knows who you are you son. -
Albus replied with a stern look. - Not exactly the most appropriate phrase to say who the father and mother in prison under the ground, you know? - Grindelwald
raises his hands in the face and bowed. - Pardon. - Then close the window, out of which it is perched an owl medium in size, plumage puffed and sanded. - Just write a note to alert the dear Batthilda I'm here. I would never claim victory too early for my untimely death .-
Gellert writes on the first package of parchment on the desk is there to the side: "Hello Batthy" is all that ink is articulated.
Albus looked at him with a smile, thinking of when the owl comes knocking at the window of the Bath, and as you get furious, claiming lack of respect of young people today. Do not take long to realize that Gellert is from Dumbledore, but still can not sleep peacefully in doubt that his nephew has been driven to some desperate in the middle of the night.
Poor Bathilda. A great lover of history, whose studies are more accurate than those who have experienced the same events subject of research, but too different from his nephew. Too fond
the past rather than present and, above all, to the future.
What will be their wonderful future. Alive, glowing, under their full power.
- Gellert - called suddenly, while his companion looks at the owl fly away.
- Yes? -
now it's dark outside and the room is lit only by a few candles circling in part, powered by Albus himself to be three times brighter than a normal flashlight. They create a particular effect of light on the walls, as tiny shadows dancing, a swarm of bees confused between the yellow and black.
- Are you going to kill the owner of the Elder Wand? -
Gellert close the window and turns, smiling. Albus knows the thrills as the subject. - Not if you do not need. Stunning would prefer a well-aimed. Bang! And one of the three Deathly Hallows is ours. Once you know who's got a plan so perfect that ideeremo kill will be the last of our thoughts. It 's just a matter of choice: you and I can. -
speaks with a warm voice, filled with excitement. As a child in front of the display of toys, which studies how to convince his mother to buy him one. Except that Grindelwald is a genius, a mind superior in every way.
Albus is going to reply promptly, also fully involved in the plan, as they had planned, Gellert but approaches him and pushes him against the wall, while waving a candle float near his hair.
With one hand stroking the cheek, the smile still beaming on his face. - Can you imagine? - Calls fever. - You and I, owners of the new world. Masters of Death. - Albus
has heard these words many times, and again it was he who utter them. Oh yes, I imagine.
- For the greater good. - Respond by mimicking her smile, looking into his eyes.
- For the greater good. - When
Gellert's lips touch his Albus does not retract. And 'all became very natural now, for them. Exchange caresses, study lovingly during his studies. Gellert's hands are bigger than his, but he is taller. And while tightening the neck with a palm Grindelwald's shirt off his purple velvet pants.
Shortly after opening it to him, button for button, undoing the lace that encircles the neck like a luxurious scarf. Stooping she leans her cheek on his chest and face moves up and down, like a cat trying flattery. It goes back again to find another kiss.
- We are unique and unrepeatable - Albus whispers, still smiling.
And so it all ends in kisses and caresses, promises of power in a snap of the lips of another. In flashes of ambition among the blinks of an eye.
The notes lay on the ground filled with erasures and symbols.
*
Albus Dumbledore smiles beyond the beard behind the desk in his study at Hogwarts. The half-moon spectacles on the tip of her nose broken, his hand resting inert on the blackened wood. In front of him
Gellert Grindelwald, the wildly curly hair, gray and matted. His eyes still burning, but much deeper than before.
Dumbledore pushing ahead with a silver dish, filled with sweets. - Never be accused of failure that is hospitality. Get well. Watch out, however, licorice, bite. - Grindelwald
raucous giggles, then looks out the window, where a crowd launches into heaven cries of joy, jumping, singing and colorful sparks shoot up toward the moon. Harry Potter, the last descendant of Peverell Ignotus, embrace loved ones as a fuzzy black spot lies on the ground, a storm cloud fallen, sunk into the ground.
- We're dead, right? - Asks casually, this time the look on the headmaster's translucent lenses.
Dumbledore gets up his good hand and wrist rolls, turning the fingers upward. - So it would seem. - Grindelwald
relaxes in his chair, the arms hanging loosely on the arms. - You wanted to show me all this, is not it? - Set out the window.
- Maybe. -
- It 's a good show. - His voice is smiling, though his face is thoughtful.
- Yeah. -
After all, it's always just been a matter of choice.
Gellert chuckles hoarsely.
*
We take control for the greater good. And it follows that where we meet resistance, we use only the force necessary and no more. (This was your mistake at Durmstrang! But I do not complain, because if I had not been expelled we would never have met.)
Albus
End
