tainted-prodigy

[tainted-prodigy]

Routine

@ofgrcwingempires, continued from here: X

"Good morning, love." Jace leaned up and kissed Albus on the cheek, carelessly still using a knife to stir his coffee. "You look tired. Were you up researching again?" Outside, it was dark out, not even an hour past sundown. But the Institute was just waking up, Alec standing by the stove, doling out a protein heavy breakfast mash of eggs, sausage, bacon, and potatoes. Isabelle was standing by the fridge, towel around her shoulders, her wet hair starting to curl. Clary was managing to achieve a standing snooze by the pantry. Shadowhunters saw night as day and day as night, and Jace thrived on it. He wasn't sure about Albus though, considering the wizard's fondness for a well lit library.

“A good evening to you as well, my love,” Albus laughed in absolute delight, leaning down to peck Jace on the cheek in return. “You never fail to expose my dastardly vices. But what about you? Did you sleep well?”

Granted, he was indeed as tired as Jace accused him of being (his sleep patterns were, after all dictated by his restless mind with its unquenchable thirst for stimulation, and thus an incorrigible disaster), yet more than anything, Albus basked in the cozy atmosphere of the Lightwood-Morgenstern family’s shared evening routine.

He hadn’t experienced anything of the sort from the day of his mother’s passing, and even before the wretched incident that had cost his mother her life, the Dumbledore family’s shared meals during their holidays had often been wrought with anxiety and tainted with Aberforth’s budding resentment that would later on culminate in an unbridgeable rift between the two brothers.

“Good evening, Alec. Isabelle. Clary,” Albus greeted the other occupants of the Institute’s kitchen. “Anything I can assist you with?”

#Routine #ofgrcwingempires: jace morgenstern #ofgrcwingempires #IC #ofgrcwingempires: Clary Morgenstern

[tainted-prodigy]

Luckily, Harry appeared to be oblivious to the shift in the air between them, to those subtle tells of budding hostility within the two strangers’ mannerisms and posture.

(Despite Albus’ profound affection for Harry, he was all too aware of his protégé’s shortcomings in the art of diplomacy as well as his Gryffindor’s recklessness and temper.)

Albus, however, was fully alert now and immediately performed a cursory Legilimency probe so as to determine the swordsmen’s surface thoughts – only to find that to his potent spell, the swordsmen’s minds were wholly nonexistent.

“Mundanes…” he mused aloud, maintaining a relaxed, non-hostile body language even as he wandlessly cast a silent protection spell on Harry. “To our kind, those ignorant to our own hidden society are known as Muggles or – given how we’re in America rather than Britain – No-Majs.”

“Yeah, that’s right ‘cause we’re wizards,” Harry chimed in before he could continue and oh-so-eagerly took Sebastian’s hand. “But what’s a Shadowhunter? Anyways, my name’s Harry. Harry Evans. Nice to meet you, Sebastian. Jace.”

At least, Harry had the mind to utilize a convincing alias of his own – just as the two swordsmen had most likely given them.

“Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Bourdon, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,“ Albus introduced himself, a mischievous twinkle lighting up his ancient eyes. “What Harry is attempting to assure you of is that we’re travelers with no ill intentions or intentions to meddle where our noses don’t belong – tourists, if you will. For that reason, please don’t hesitate to tell us if we’re overstaying our welcome.”

And with a little bow, he held out his hand to Jonathan Christopher – to Jace.

“Seers? No, we meant that you see past the Veils,” Jace clarified, bemused by the mention of seers. “You speak Latin?” His Hearing Rune was active, as was Sebastian’s, allowing them both to catch Albus’s whispered translation.

Sebastian, far more suspicious, placed a hand on his brother’s lower back, eyeing the two.

“If you’re not Sighted mundanes, then what are you?” He asked. Next to him, Jace shifted, a hand going to the concealed knife that he always carried on the back of his thigh.

“If you’re not mundanes, then surely you’d know a Shadowhunter when you see them,” Jace shot at Albus, golden eyes flashing. “We’re hardly inconspicuous.”

Sebastian caught a look at Jace activating the Stamina Rune that sat on his lower back and shifted to block the soft flare of light that always came with it.

“Perhaps we oughta to start over?” He suggested, catching Harry’s eye and giving him a charming smile. “I’m Sebastian, Sebastian Blackthorn. And you are?” He held a hand out to Harry, kicking Jace’s ankle.

“Canis motus,” bitch move Jace hissed at him. But he obliged and introduced himself. “Jonathan Christopher Monteclaire. Jace for short.”

#the aftermath of war #ofgrcwingempires: jace morgenstern #ofgrcwingempires: sebastian morgenstern #ofgrcwingempires #guest muse: cursed and chosen #IC

[tainted-prodigy]

Albus stifled a delighted laugh as the two swordsmen proceeded to insult one another in Latin, always rejoicing in such authentic displays of brotherly affection.

There was no sting to their insults, no malice, no resentment.

(“There. Are you happy now, you bloody bastard?!” Aberforth had snarled at him right after breaking his nose. “Now, you can leave this place without having a family, without having our ill sister – to worry about. So, leave. Get the hell out of here!”)

Harry, on the hand, was utterly flabbergasted.

“Ah, merely the crude terms of endearment characteristic for loving brothers,” Albus answered the unspoken question, turning to whisper the translation in Harry’s ear.

And was it not endearing how Harry’s blush deepened into a lovely shade of crimson?

(It didn’t occur to Albus that his youthful appearance and their close proximity may have affected the boy he had held in his arms as an infant just as much.)

“No offense taken,” Albus cordially told the swordsmen. “Provided our understanding of the term Sight is the same, then no. We’re not Seers, dubious as the self-appointed title may be.”

Having encountered a vast number of self-proclaimed Seers in his long life, Albus would have rejected the notion of true clairvoyance in its entirety, had his every interactions with Gellert not tilted his world on its axis.

Gellert…

Was his mind playing cruel tricks on him by drawing perplexing parallels between his only love and the younger of the two swordsmen?

The young man’s – Jace’s – golden locks and chiseled bone structure reminded him of the brilliant young man he had fallen for all those decades in the past so poignantly Albus could barely breathe, and for a fleeting moment, he could see Gellert’s phantom glancing back at him, dissecting him, peering into his very soul with his shrewd mismatched eyes.

Only decades of practice and his sturdy Occlumency barriers permitted him to regain his composure before his behavior would draw unwanted attention.

“Would I be too forward in inquiring about the intriguing runes you are marked with?” Albus thus asked.

“Can I ask you the same? They look wicked,” Harry chimed in, spectacularly failing to prevent his eyes from wandering.

“Witches, then,” Sebastian muttered as he carefully shifted off of Jace.

“Or like Kit,” Jace countered, sitting up once he was free.

“The last thing we need is more like Kit.” Sebastian made a face as he stood, stowing his sword and hauling his brother up. He loved his nephew, but the thought of there being more Lost Herondales was a headache inducing concept. Finally, he gave an actual look at the pair that approached. His eyes skipped straight over the more blonde of the two, settling on the black haired one.

Immediately, his first thought was well damn, aren’t you traumatized as all hell?

Not even maliciously. But the other boy practically exuded trauma. Sebastian would know. He himself was deeply traumatized (thanks Valentine), and he had caused a fair amount of trauma with his own hands.

For Jace’s part, he smiled, preening just a bit. He was always pleased when someone noticed his skill with blades. No doubt a side effect of growing up in two households with little to offer for compliments.

“Appreciated,” he said. “Though a show was far from our minds when we started. Are you Sighted?”

“Jace!” Sebastian huffed.

“What?! It’s just a question.”

“Apologies for my little brother’s rude question.” Sebastian purposefully emphasized their two year age difference while shooting him a look. He didn’t think anything of declaring their shared blood, it was so obvious with just a glance that they were related, even with the differences.

While Jace’s hazel eyes were on a golden side, Sebastian had dark green eyes that erred on the side of black unless he was standing in some sort of light. His hair was definitively white, where Jace was quite blonde. But they shared the same fluid, swimmer’s build. The shape of their eyes and the curve of their mouths, the way they shifted in tandem. To deny that they were brothers was a laughable idea.

“Claude meretricem,” Jace huffed. Shut up, whore.

“Numquam asinorum.” Never, jackass.

#the aftermath of war #ofgrcwingempires: jace morgenstern #ofgrcwingempires: Sebastian Morgenstern #ofgrcwingempires #guest muse: cursed and chosen #guest muse: he who ignites #IC

[tainted-prodigy]

The Aftermath of War

Closed w/ @tainted-prodigy From the outside, it looked very much like the brothers were trying to kill each other. The clashing of swords and the occasional shout of "I should have killed you sooner!" would have one thinking so. But actually, this was just a sparring session. "You don't know how to DUCK do you?" Sebastian grunted as he lunged sword first at his brother. "You don't know how to riposte!" "Oh shut up, you blonde menace!" Sweat dripped down their brows and Jace's bare chest. "God you are such a whore," Sebastian complained as he danced away from Jace's swipe. "We are in California, it is HOT, and so am I!" "Narcissist." "It's not my fault I got the good looks." As Jace lunged forward, Sebastian caught his wrist and kicked upwards, catching him in the knee, sending Jace onto his back. Without thinking, Sebastian's sword drove down- Into the sand by his head, Sebastian kneeling on his brother's chest. "...I win," he breathed, chest heaving. "Obviously." The sound of nearby footsteps attracted their attention and they both looked up, squinting at the nearby duo. "....can they see us or-?" Jace finally asked. "Toss up every time in this area. But neither of them look like warlocks," Sebastian sighed.

“But Sir, we’ve got to stop those Muggles before they get hurt!” Harry protested as Albus pushed down his twitching wand arm before he could attempt to separate the two swordsmen, his grip vice-like and just on the verge of inflicting pain.

Albus released a heavy sigh. “Harry… I have only myself to blame for your misjudgment. What you are witnessing is a friendly sparring match, no duel to the death. Besides, I doubt these young men are truly Muggles. Hence it is best we stay our hand for the time being. Observe them. Look at the runes they are marked with. Do rest assured that I shall interfere at the first true sign of danger.”

Albus did not fault the Wizarding World’s sheltered savior for being haunted , knowing Tom’s cruelty and murderous intent had loomed over Harry’s adolescence like a poisonous shadow and that Albus, for all his affection for him and the blood-soaked scheming he’d performed on his behalf, had failed to shield him from the agony of achieving a victory that only to him felt hollow.

(The day Albus had been lauded as the Wizarding World’s noble savior for defeating the dark wizard Grindelwald decades in the past had left him equally dejected. He experienced a dull ache in his chest that it occurred to him that the two of them weren’t nearly as different as Harry was likely to assume.)

Evidently, Harry’s life thus far had been devoid of the innocent roughhousing the two swordsmen were engaging in as though it were as natural for them as breathing.

But fortunately, Harry had always been eager to learn.

There was an amused sparkle in Albus’ brilliant blue eyes as Harry’s worry lines smoothed out and made way for a slack jaw and a dazed expression colored with obvious attraction, as a faint blush crept its way onto his cheeks when one of the handsome swordsmen claimed his victory by kneeling on the bare chest of the other.

“Come, Harry,” said Albus, all but tugging him along as he approached the two swordsmen. “There should be no harm in offering our compliments.”

“What a splendid duel!” Albus called out to them. “Your impeccable technique in particular has left us thoroughly impressed.”

“Ye-yeah, you were great,” Harry stammered out in agreement. “Very… great.”

#The Aftermath of War #ofgrcwingempires: Jace Morgenstern #ofgrcwingempires #guest muse: cursed-and-chosen #IC #ofgrcwingempires: sebastian morgenstern

[tainted-prodigy]

[@ofgrcwingempires]

He was wearing the Wayland ring and now I'm happy and sad simultaneously

#ofgrcwingempires: jace morgenstern #ofgrcwingempires #IC

[tainted-prodigy]

Scientia potentia est

@ofgrcwingempires

Albus’ knock at the door to the wayward Prince’s quarters was firmer than his delicate scholar’s hands may have led his contemporaries believe them to be capable of giving.

“May I have a moment of your time, your Royal Highness?” Albus inquired with a practiced bow as he faced Prince Jonathan, his tone stern yet impeccably polite. “My name is Albus Dumbledore. In order to fill the vacancy created by Professor Quirrell’s unforeseen departure, His Majesty has appointed me as your new tutor. Are you ready to commence your Latin studies?”

Forced into a vow of absolute discretion by none other than the King himself, Albus recognized the threat to what was left of his own wretched family as such and would thus proceed with the utmost caution.

If he was to deflect the slightest traces of scrutiny capable of dooming Ariana for good, it was of paramount importance Albus bear whatever he saw or experienced with a stiff upper lip and a mask of indifference.

It was a small mercy Aberforth had displayed no signs of detecting his necessary lie of omission. With his lack of tact and volatile temper, Aberforth couldn’t be trusted to refrain from acting in a fatally reckless manner if he were to learn that, rather than instructing the sons of lesser aristocrats and wealthy merchants, tutoring the son of the monstrous King both of them despised with every fiber of their being had become Albus’ sole duty.

#Scientia potentia est #ofgrcwingempires #ofgrcwingempires: Jace Morgenstern #IC #et voilà a Royalty Au

[tainted-prodigy]

[ASDkjasfhjkasfasfk, I lovethemIlovethemIlovethem <3 <3 <3 This is such a gorgeous depiction of these two - their expressions and that pose are EVERYTHING (alsoalso, am I spying a certain little reference here?<3)

Absolutely adoring their respective body language as well as their majestic hair <3

Thank you so so so so much for the dedication & tag <3 I've missed you lots - and my muses have missed your magnificent Gellert such a great deal as well, so I couldn't be more overjoyed to hear from you again <3

Sending you lots of love *hugs* <3]

A midnight kiss

#grindeldore #Gellert x Albus #summer 1899 #nurmengard master #gorgeous fanart #I am way too IN LOVE with this <3

[tainted-prodigy]

A Martyr's Plight

@middaysandmidnights, continued from here: X

"Albus!" Jace called, glancing around the park. They had agreed to meet in Central Park near the Institute and then go for lunch. There was a duck pond that Jace was pretty sure he once jumped into to go to the Seelie Court. Or was this the pond where he and Alec had learned how to battle the cecaelia demons that had been eating the ducks...? A loud splash attracted his attention and his eyes widened as he saw a pale hand briefly emerge from the water only to vanish. Immediately, he ran over and threw himself in, sword drawn. It was Albus, thrashing around and struggling in the heavy robes Jace had told him time and again to replace with lighter mundane clothes. Upon seeing him, Jace remembered with perfect clarity that Albus had once told him that he couldn't swim. And while the ponds were hardly deeper than Jace was tall, plenty of people drowned in them each year, regardless of demons or ducks. Jace grabbed Albus by the waist and with a powerful kick, brought them both to the surface, where he then dragged Albus onto the grass. "Angel's grace, you're a trouble magnet!" He wheezed, spitting out some water. "Are you alright?"

Albus had arrived early to their planned outing, a lovingly-prepared picnic basket concealed in the inconspicuous messenger bag he had previously enhanced with an Undetectable Extension Charm for the very purpose of surprising Jace with an abundance of homemade treats as well as the offer to select a book amongst the three dozen also stored within.

As he surveyed the area for a suitable picnic spot with a jaunty bounce in his gait and a besotted smile on his features, he found himself drawn to an idyllic pond and the majestic snowy egret perching by the shore and displaying its pristine plumage.

Thinking little of the field of Divination in its whole, it didn’t occur to him to interpret the bird’s abrupt departure with a heart-wrenching wail and the flurry of feathers left in its wake as an ill omen.

Instead, upon spotting a flash of crimson beneath the water surface, Albus was governed by curiosity rather than apprehension as he warded the immediate area off with a Confundus Charm and stepped closer to investigate.

He had barely cast a Bubble-Head-Charm when his legs were seized by tendrils of pitch-black foul magic and pulled underwater.

Your actions are becoming more and more troublesome for us, Mr. Dumbledore, a disembodied voice spoke in his ear, undeterred by his struggles to free himself with his magic and his sole free arm. Your unsanctioned meetings, the seditious speeches you give, your snooping around. Allow us to remind you that you’re a mere guest here. What a shame it would be if we were pressured to retract our hospitality.

May I kindly ask you to clarify in which manner I have offend- he attempted to inquire, heart hammering in his chest and mind racing a mile a minute – both to arm himself with knowledge and to distract his attacker, but a precise jinx to the bubble encasing his head sent a rush of water into his mouth and nostrils.

You may not, the voice hissed. Furthermore, speak a single word of our little conversation to an outsider, and they’ll be tried as a criminal along with you. This will be our only warning.

Even as the lack of air threatened to encase his mind in darkness, as his magic itself was dulled by his fading consciousness, the words were already deeply and permanently carved into his memory.

And just as he freed himself, dissolving the tendrils with his final sliver of coherent thought and magic, it was his body, lean and untrained, that doomed him.

Jace, I’m sorry. I didn’t even tell you how to open the bag.

When his eyes fluttered open, he was disoriented only until he heard Jace’s voice, until he was made the sole focus of those piercing golden eyes.

The very instant he had coughed out the water forced into his lungs, Albus found himself clinging to Jace before he could’ve decided more wisely.

“I’m sorry, Jace,” he blurted out, face buried in the crook of Jace’s neck and tears pricking his eyes. “I’m sorry for causing you nothing but trouble.”

Casting a nonverbal drying and cleaning spell on them both struck him as a more pressing than searching for his wand, than inquiring about it. The spell, after all, he could also perform wandlessly, but he had endangered Jace, doused him in ice cold water, likely ruined his day as well despite his best efforts to turn their outing into a source of tranquility and bliss.

“I was hoping to surprise you,” he uttered, suddenly weary to his bones. “The messenger bag over there. If you’d still like to look inside...”

And he nonverbally summoned the bag to their side and unlocked it, aware he had lost any right to he may have once had to plead with Jace.

#A Martyr's Plight #middaysandmidnights: Jace Morgenstern #middaysandmidnights #IC

[tainted-prodigy]

The Art of Conquest

magicblooms​:

“Limiting underage magic is just another ridiculous and arbitrary law. It’s completely unnecessary. Once we can perform the spell adequately and safely, there is no reason to limit our use of magic.” Gellert stated before he could stop himself. “It goes against our very nature, to limit the use of the gifts we have been given. Why should we constantly hold ourselves back when the Muggles certainly do not?” Gellert shook his head at being reminded once more about the laws that only sought to oppress their kind. To teach them from the crib that magic was something to be hidden away, as if it were a shameful secret.

Gellert paused, taking a sip of his tea to collect his thoughts. Perhaps he shouldn’t be so open about his beliefs with a boy he had only just met and yet, something was already telling him that Albus shared many of his beliefs. Why should he hide himself? Especially as he was arguing that one shouldn’t have to hide their true nature.

He found himself staring at the intensity of Albus’ gaze upon him and he felt his breath catch in his throat. The boy was utterly stunning and he was instantly captivated and unable to look away. He couldn’t help his lips twitching into a smile at Albus looking almost contrite for suggesting he shouldn’t feel guilty for not being able to save Apollo’s herd. He still felt as though he had let down his familiar but he could see Albus’ point as well.

“You were neither overbearing nor patronising. You are being incredibly kind and you’re right. Perhaps I shouldn’t blame myself as much as I do. I wasn’t the only one in that room and I did what little I could do.” It still hadn’t been enough but at least he had managed to save Apollo. Some days, saving one individual had to be enough, at least for now. Maybe one day, he would be able to save everyone. “Your brother sounds…. interesting.” Merlin help the boy if he ever tried to throw dung at him. “Goats are an unusual pet to keep, especially for a magical family but I can see what you mean about the milk and cheese. As for the problem with insects, there are spells that can help with that.” He didn’t have much experience with crops, however he had always enjoyed watching his mother tend to her beautiful garden. While she had used magic for almost everything, she had always insisted it was touch alone that made the flowers bloom to perfection. He still remembered the way she had so gently stroked his cheek the first night he brought home his wand, saying the thorns reminded her of the roses that were in full bloom in her garden. “Although I’m sure Apollo would be happy to assist with the pest problem, I fear if we let him into the crops, he might just devour all the vegetables too.” Gellert laughed as Apollo tilted his head and gave a half hearted snap of his jaw before wiggling happily inside the flames once more. “I could help. If you wanted me to, of course. I wouldn’t want to impose upon your family.”

You must hold back because you’re strong, Albus – strong and significantly more prudent than your father has been. Excel in your lessons, cleanse our family name for his sake too, but don’t let anyone provoke you into raising your wand for less reputable reasons. For any promising young pure-blood, it may be a privilege, but in your case, it is just as much of a necessity. It’s what you – what the three of us must do to protect our small family.

As if conjured to the surface by a deft summoning Charm, his mother’s voice reverberated in his head, clear and authoritative, and ever-so-slightly, Albus winced in response.

He had been close to nodding his head in fervent agreement, to baring his secrets and scars to a man he had only just met, but the remains of his willpower, his providence – sparse as they may have been – were urging him to refrain from disrespecting Kendra Dumbledore’s legacy days after her passing.

The Statute of Secrecy and his complex, often conflicting emotions pertaining to the nonexistence of official relations between wizardkind and Muggles were a subject he had refrain from debating at any cost, preferably deflect before his interlocutors took notice.

Mother had drilled this, too, into him after his father had been dragged away to Azkaban, and again when they had been informed of his death.

Don’t let those charitable radicals who may approach you fool you. They tempt you with words, but as soon as you condemn yourself, they’ll cut you off like a lizard does its tail. In many ways, they’re like the Ministry.

But Gellert couldn’t be so selfish, cowardly, and utterly despicable, could he?

In the end, it was too soon to tell, let alone after one vague, fleeting remark.

The swift change from one topic to another, and then once more on Gellert’s part thus came to Albus as an immense relief.

He found himself admiring Gellert for his willingness to part with unjust regrets rather than clinging to them like a sacred memento. If Gellert permitted him to do so, Albus would be overjoyed to remind him that he had saved, not failed Apollo, as many times as necessary.

The merry sound of Gellert’s laughter was infectious, prompting him to release a started laugh in kind as he imagined the many detours Apollo might have taken from an ill-advised task in Aberforth’s vegetable garden.

“You’d never impose upon us,” he blurted out, his tongue working faster than his mind.

Even so, Albus would be lying if he were to pretend otherwise, at least where he was concerned as a selfish individual.

Alas, he couldn’t simply invite Gellert to their home with Ariana present and prone to fatally unpredictable outbursts, not without an abundance of precautions that would keep her safe and hidden from the outside world.

“That being said, I wouldn’t want you to visit just to sully your hands fending off slugs and other unsightly pests,” he thus amended. “Perhaps I could procure an assortment of samples first, so Apollo can educate me about his exact preferences. I’d be delighted to invite you for afternoon tea in that context.”

If he limited the time they spent at his home, Ariana’s secret would be safe.

Hopefully, Professor Bagshot could be persuaded to help him ensure that his precautions would not be perceived as unkind by her grand-nephew.

#The Art of Conquest #magicblooms #IC

[tainted-prodigy]

The Burden of Knowledge

magicblooms​:

Gellert heard the soft gasp fall from his own lips as he pressed forth and entered Albus’ mind. What a fool he was to even think the experience wouldn’t be overwhelming, beautiful, perfect. He had peered into many wizards and witches minds over the years, even Muggles on occasion. But this, this felt more like coming home than anything else ever had. There was something so intimate about this and Gellert wondered if he would ever want to leave what had to be the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He felt himself falter slightly, overwhelmed for a moment and he clung to Albus to steady himself. He knew what a gift this was, that his lover, his husband, would permit him entrance into his inner most sanctuary. After everything that had happened between them, how they had left things, he never would have expect Albus would be so quick to offer such blind trust. He was incredibly grateful and also confused. Albus had been so quick to turn against him and betray him, why would he now do this so soon after their reunion? He had a feeling that he was about to find out. Albus had not set down any firm path, Gellert could see that his mind lay open and bare for him to simply plunder and take what he wanted. It would be so easily to push forward, to plunder and grasp whatever he wanted. Albus might have been open with him that summer but he knew there was still so much for him to learn. This flawed mind of mine, my body, heart and soul - everything there is to me. How easy it would be to simply take and take and take and take, to answer every question he’d ever had about the man that had stolen his heart almost immediately and then shattered it only a few short months later? It is all yours Gellert - now and forever. For as long as you seem me worthy of the privilege of being possessed by you. Oh, what a delightful offer Albus made to him. He was still his in every way that mattered. Did he not understand that his feelings for him hadn’t changed, even if they had become more complicated? He still wanted him in every manner possible, even if he knew perhaps that it would be easier if he didn’t. This alone couldn’t take away Albus’ betrayal but it might be a step in the right direction, even if he feared that his husband would betray him again in the heat of the moment. Then darkness came and Gellert simply watched and waited, knowing this was what Albus had been intending to show him all along. His heart ached at the innocence and happiness that had clearly filled the Dumbledores siblings early childhood. He could see their bond from the looks upon their faces as they frolicked together. Ariana was singing and Albus looked so at peace. Even Aberforth was grinning as he tugged at his siblings hands as they ran across a meadow, shrieking with laughter. Here we go round the bramble bush He watched the childish displays of magic they shared in the fields. Albus made some flowers bloom, looking so pleased with himself as he handed them to Ariana who was applauding wildly as only children can. She went to quick work, making a messy flower crown before handing it back to Albus who wore it dutifully. Aberforth quickly demanded a matching one, trying to make flowers bloom as his older brother had but couldn’t. Albus was quickly to give him a supportive pat on the back in encouragement. He helped Aberforth make the flowers bloom and before too long they all had matching flowers crowns. Their laughter carried across the fields and their joy still radiated over a decade later. A lone tear ran down Gellerts cheek, knowing the tragedy that loomed so close to them. Oh how he wanted to protect them all from what he knew was coming. Oh Albus. But he knew this wasn’t what Albus had been wanting to show him, this was simply a build up to the true memory that held the key. Show me. Please.

For the first time after arduous years of darkness, Albus was being permitted to revisit that blissful memory in its untainted form, to remember what it had felt like to love Ariana and Aberforth from the bottom of his heart.

I will show you everything, Gellert, including the sins I had failed to recognize as such during those blissful weeks I’d been gifted at your side.

Prior to the terrible attack that had destroyed his family, Albus had delighted in the company of his younger sibling instead of being weighed down by the suffocating burden of being the guardian and provider of them both, all made worse by the absence of a shoulder sturdy enough to bear his own wearied head, of a pair of arms strong enough to catch him, to hold him tight enough to prevent his heart and mind from shattering.

Never again had he felt as light as a feather in their proximity, and he had committed the unforgivable sin of holding them responsible for the invisible wounds they bore that matched his own.

How could he have forgotten that Ariana, too, had once dreamed of taking flight?

As though a craven glamor had been dispelled, all those different birds that had also rejoiced and danced with them became visible.

Attracted by Ariana’s ethereal singing voice, by her aura of ebullient pure magic, they had adored her more than anything else in the world; they had flocked to her by the dozen at the first dulcet note carried to their tiny ears, even perching before her bedroom window and requesting to be let inside.

From the day Ariana had stopped singing, an eerie silence had fallen over the entire family home: One by one, the birds had left, and no matter how many spells Albus had cast to call out to them in his precociousness, in his juvenile compulsion to right all wrongs through inadequate and insultingly simplistic means, the birds had been unimpressed his arrogant demands.

And yet, it had never made him pause and wonder how whether those displays of underage magic had truly been as ordinary as they had seemed to them as carefree children.

It had never occurred to him to doubt his parents’ conviction that her immense potential for greatness had vanished into nothingness in the blink of an eye.

Instead, he had been docile and naive. Instead of building upon the foundation his parents had created for him and his siblings, he had allowed it to decay into ruins.

“Your little sister is broken, dear Albus. It may be painful to accept – I’m certain it is for all of us. And yet, expecting her to behave as though she hasn’t been damaged irreversibly will only cause her further distress. As her family, we must shield her from such turmoil; and we must protect her fragile soul from the insanity tormenting her now. It’s what your father would’ve wanted for her as well. As the eldest man in this family, you shall help me see to it in his place.”

“Of course, Mother.”

He had embraced Mother’s assessment all but mindlessly, clinging to her words of guidance because it had been the easier thing to do, but in hindsight, he no longer was so certain they had truly acted in Ariana’s best interest.

How many times could a man err before his soul was beyond salvation?

The question had been tormenting him countless for days and nights, hence there was nothing to be gained from succumbing to its pull when he still owed another, equally important truth to Gellert.

The scenery of Albus’ mind shifted once more, recreating the memory of the day Aurors had come for his father and taken him away.

Once respected as a steadfast and upstanding man, Percival Dumbledore was kneeling on sitting room floor with his head bowed in shame when it was Albus’ turn to bid him farewell. No one had needed to explain to Albus that the thick magical ropes restraining his father would tighten around his neck if either of them were to defy the Aurors hovering just behind him.

But suddenly, Percival Dumbledore lifted his gaze and looked Albus directly in the eyes.

“Listen to me, Albus,” he admonished him, “the things I did to those boys, there’s no justification for them. If anyone asks you, no matter who it is, you’ll tell them the same. You’ll be more vocal in your disapproval than anyone you discuss my actions with. Promise me that you’ll never forget the sight of me kneeling before you as a criminal, Albus, and that you’ll remember it whenever you’re afflicted with a similar foolishness. It’s the last lesson I can teach you as your father, for now, it is up to you to protect our family.”

And then, he was dragged to his feet once more and through the front door before Albus could’ve begged for words of guidance that did not sound as treacherous.

That night, Albus discovered a handwritten note inside the book he’d been reading, and every line scrawled in that familiar penmanship was akin to a whip tearing into his flesh, branding him a prisoner.

The Holy Lord alone has the right to judge and punish those who’ve sinned. As mortal beings, it’s our duty to respect this sacred law. If we don’t, we’ll be just as tainted by sin as those we harm, no matter how virtuous the excuses we conjur. What we can, what we must do, however, is to maintain our faith in Him along with the virtues He instilled in us. We must not forget that most sinners do not face the Lord’s judgment before their departure from this world. If we don’t wish to be amongst them, we must always chose the right path over the easy path, even when it’s a path of thorns. I hope the years I shall spend atoning for the sins I committed will remove at least a smidgen of the taint that now adheres to this unworthy soul of mine. Yet do not pray for me; pray that your soul will be made immune to the temptation mine succumbed to.

The answers Albus had so desperately sought before granted him no solace.

#The Burden of Knowledge #magicblooms #IC #guest muse: the mournful phoenix

[tainted-prodigy]

The Burden of Knowledge

magicblooms​:

Gellert softened even further as he watched Albus being so gentle with his familiar. Apollo had been his only consistent company since leaving Godrics Hollow. He had been almost constantly on the move and while he had already started to sow the seeds of his revolution, he had found no one that he wished to keep around. To see Albus still so fond of his reptilian companion, even after all this time, warmed the heart he had long believed to be cold. Once Albus had moved into his arms and rested his head against his shoulder, he gently stroked his hair to soothe him. His grip tightened only slightly, wanting to ground him and calm him. He wondered silently just what those final words were that Percival Dumbledore had uttered to his eldest son and what lasting damage had it had upon him? For even now, just recalling those words had Albus shaking like a leaf. His dislike of the man he had never met grew as he felt Albus’ tears against his neck. Gellert closed his eyes for a moment. While, he could never want to see Albus in such a state, he couldn’t deny just how much he had missed… this. Being here, in this room, holding Albus close and just wishing that the world beyond these four walls could just disappear. For a few hours, weeks, months, years, an eternity. He had known that they were destined to change the world but in a rare greedy and selfish moment, he could almost wish that they didn’t have to. That they could just be. They could just exist and share a life together that didn’t necessitate them to be the revolutionaries he knew they were capable of being. Gellert knew what he was asking for as soon as the words spilled forth. They’d never crossed that line during their summer together. He knew that was most likely because there was things he had been keeping from Albus that summer. He had wanted to protect him, from the visions he had seen. He had been holding the weight of the world upon his shoulders. Still grieving and struggling with his new found role as the head of the household. The last thing he had wanted to do was place more pressure upon him, make him feel like they needed to rush their revolution. Time hadn’t been on their side even back then but Gellert had known that none of the siblings had been ready to upend their lives in the Hollow, especially Ariana. How could he have told Albus of the looming war? Of the true extent to the inventions the non magical were working on? He knew he had held back that summer and despite being a well practiced Occlumens, he also wasn’t sure how much he could have hidden from Albus had he let him take a look inside his mind. It was almost impossible to close off his mind and emotions when it came to his husband. Even if he could, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. There was something inherently appealing at the thought of shaking something so intimate with the only one he had ever truly loved. “Albus?” Gellert pulled back only slightly, so he could tilt his head to see his face. It was a significant offer and he wondered why Albus would still trust him after everything that had occurred between them. Albus might have raised his wand first but Gellert was aware that he had also broken their vows by running off without giving Albus the change to explain himself. “Are you sure? We don’t have to….” He gave him the opportunity to back out, to change his mind but it seemed Albus was determined for his request and Gellert wouldn’t refuse him. He reached out, placing two fingers against Albus’ temple. He didn’t need physical connection to cast the spell but wanted to ensure Albus knew he was about to begin. He paused just along enough to give him a chance to back out. When he didn’t, Gellert took a deep breath and cast the spell verbally so Albus knew the telepathic connection was starting. “Legilimens.”

Despite the bitter tears still blurring Albus’ vision, there was no trace of uncertainty to be found in his countenance.

Blinking them away as thoroughly and swiftly as he could, he met Gellert’s mesmerizing eyes with his own and bared his mind to him with a quiet, steeled resolve.

Never in his life leading up to Gellert’s arrival in stifling quaint Godric’s Hollow had he considered inviting another person into his innermost retreat that could in the blink of an eye morph from a sanctuary into a desolate prison cell.

Never before that blessed day had he predicted how swiftly he’d come to recognize such beliefs as a  cowardly attempt at deceiving himself – and yet, how could Albus Dumbledore have retained his sanity, had he acknowledged that the maddening desire for companionship, for authenticity and fulfillment, for the sweet, cathartic release of confession only a man stronger and wiser than him could have ever granted him was a gaping hole never to be filled?

There was no doubt in Albus’ mind that it was downright impossible for him to endure a miserable existence without Gellert, let alone make himself grow blind and indifferent to how hollow his life prior to that day had been.

He been able to erase those pivotal truths Gellert had showed him from his essence, his soul after Gellert’s departure, and it became apparent to him that he no longer desired to do so.

Instead, he more than ever craved the sharp sting of Gellert’s judgment.

And now, after all those endless, torturous months, he was going to receive it at last.

And yet, not even Gellert’s meticulous care and self-control could have allowed Albus to brace himself for the staggering impact of the most beautiful, the most extraordinary of all minds brushing against his own.

The gasp escaping his tremulous lips was loud and indecent.

Before he could have prevented his limbs from moving of their own volition, he was already clinging to Gellert, gripping him by his firm, well-proportioned upper arms with the desperation of a drowning man.

Pliant and overcome with adoration and reverence, Albus beckoned Gellert towards the memory he had promised him, though he did not insist upon the path he had laid out for his better half.

My dearest, my darling, my beloved…

This flawed mind of mine, my body, heart, and soul – everything there is to me.

It is all yours, Gellert – now and forever; for as long as you deem me worthy of the privilege of being possessed by you.

The hymn of worship reverberating in the vast halls of his mind was dulcet and unbidden. It was a soft caress and a plea in equal parts, a mirror of the single truth Albus had had no means of renouncing even when he had strayed from the noble convictions Gellert had imparted to him.

Then, darkness came.

And yet, as tragedies so commonly did, the Dumbledore family’s, too, had begun with merriment and warmth.

Here we go round the bramble bush, The bramble bush, The bramble bush. Here we go round the bramble bush On a cold and frosty morning.

He had almost forgotten the sound of Ariana’s melodious singing voice, the crystalline peals of her laughter, the radiant smile gracing her sun-kissed skin. yet Gellert’s presence in his mind peeled away all layers of guilt and grief marring his precious memory of that day Ariana, Aberforth, and him had merely been children – vivacious, carefree children who had not yet known the suffocating ubiquitous despair that had soon after become their family’s constant companion.

Before tragedy had befallen them, their bond had been stronger than that between any of the other siblings – magical and non-magical – that had inhabited Mould-on-the-Wold.

The three of them had been attached at the hip, spending their days frolicking about, many a time dancing to whatever little song Ariana had sung for them, and even more frequently setting out to explore their village, the adjacent forest and fields, and their own budding magic.

They had been innocent.

#The Burden of Knowledge #magicblooms #IC #guest muse: the mournful phoenix

[tainted-prodigy]

The Burden of Knowledge

magicblooms​:

Gellert had almost wished at times that he could find solace in the concept of a deity. He knew so many people - not just the non magical but witches and wizards too - who believed in the idea of an Almighty Creator. He had witnessed the comfort it brought people, especially in the face of tragedy. He couldn’t entirely blame individuals for desiring to feel better in the circumstances they found themselves in and yet he detested how it made those same individuals complacent. How easy it was to think ‘thoughts and prayers’ was somehow enough and this omnipotent being would just wave a hand and fix everything.

Gellert knew he could never accept such a concept. No one was 'coming to save them’ for if they existed they would have stepped in already. How could a God forsake his most powerful and rare souls, in favor of those lesser beings that sought them harm? Albus was correct, he had no time for a world and reality that didn’t suit him or the beliefs he held to the very core of his being. He wouldn’t stop until the world was reshaped, whether he had to do that with magical force or not. They could not continue on the path they were set on, for he had seen too much to let it come to pass. The future was bleak for the magical and would be even worse for the Muggles who lived in such ignorance bliss.

His husband never failed to astonish and amaze him during that summer and once more, his beloved surprised him. Albus hadn’t spoken much of his father during their summer together, beyond explaining his life long sentence to Azkaban for daring to stand up those Muggles. Gellerts stomach had churned even back then, knowing Percival Dumbledore hadn’t deserved such a horrific sentence for the mere crime of defending his family. That had been before he had been given an insight into the extent of the monstrous attack upon Ariana. Gellert knew he’d have done far worse to those filthy Muggles had he had the chance.

Perhaps things might have been different, had the Dumbledores been able to tell the Ministrys the truth. Had they known that in confessing the real reason Percival Dumbledore attacked, Ariana would not be dragged away from the family that loved her and thrown into St Mungos, for a 'crime’ she wasn’t responsible for. Losing control of her magic could not be helped, not in a world where she had been denied all forms of help of treatment lest she be locked up forever. The Ministrys would have claimed she was a risk of the Statute of Secrecy - a vile law that did nothing but pander to those in power and help lesser beings control a world that didn’t rightfully belong to them.

Gellert watched silently as Albus broke down before him. The faraway look in his eyes, the shaking and then suddenly he was sobbing uncontrollably, as though he couldn’t bear to speak another word. Had Albus never spoken of this to anyone? Not even Aberforth? Elphias? He certainly hadn’t shared this with him, even in their shared moments of vulnerability.

“Albus.” Gellert went to him, knowing he couldn’t in good conscience not go to his side to provide the comfort he clearly desperately sought. There would be enough time for hard truths late and while he wasn’t going to offer empty platitudes, it was clear that Albus needed something beyond his harshness this morning.

“You do not need to continue Albus, not unless you wish.” He gathered him in his arms, gently pushed his head down to rest against his shoulder. He stroked his hair gently, feeling the way his body was still shaking against his. Gellert knew he wasn’t to blame and yet, he still felt an acute sense of guilt for abandoning the man he had once sworn to protect with every inch of his being.

“You have every right to silence any voice that is harming you Albus. I might never have known your father but I have no doubt that he would never have wanted to see you torture yourself like this. He was a grown man, capable and responsible for his own actions.” Gellert wanted to say more, wanted to admit his disappointment at the man who should have realised attacking those boys would bring nothing but pain to his entire family.

He couldn’t blame him for wanting to seek revenge but it had been a fools errand to do so without even covering his tracks. He had attacked them openly without thought, in a blind rage, allowing his emotions to get the better of him. He had left a shattered family behind and a world of responsibilities to his first born. But he held his tongue, for it would do Albus no favors to hear that.

Never would it have occurred to Albus to be so ungrateful, so utterly insolent as to accuse Gellert of being indifferent to his emotional anguish – not even in his own unspoken thoughts at that.

Despite his shameful confession, after all, Gellert had not ceased bestowing upon him the invaluable gift of his guidance and profound wisdom, had not discarded the values and virtues he had so fervently advocated for once when they had conversed and debated for hours on end, at times even for days.

And yet, there was a marked difference between an intellectual’s detached sympathy and a lover’s soul-soothing embrace.

Had Albus not irrevocably forfeited the qualities that had once inspired such tender sentiments in Gellert?

Had he not long exhausted the well of Gellert’s patience for him, especially now that he was shaking like a leaf, tongue-tied and useless?

Only the start Apollo gave – strong abrupt enough to at least temporarily disrupt the vice-like grip of grim old memories and more recent wounds alike – allowed Albus to ensure the small creature’s relative comfort as Gellert gathered him in his arms once more.

As much as he itched to cling to Gellert in return, pretending he could become one with the man he loved if he mustered the strength, the perseverance, the blind desperation, he didn’t wish to hurt the magnificent familiar Gellert had entrusted him with and who had shared his body warmth with him mere minutes before.

The instant he had accomplished his self-imposed task by helping Apollo climb onto and securly attach himself to the nape of his neck, however, he allowed his head to grow heavy against Gellert’s shoulder and closed his eyes in blissful surrender.

Drinking in the fragrant scent emanating from Gellert’s clothing and skin with deep, greedy breaths – an intoxicating blend of purifying crisp mountain air, of dreamlike winter wood, incense and Gellert’s own unyielding magic – Albus soon found himself capable of transfiguring his thoughts into more or less coherent speech.

“No, please allow me to,” he insisted quietly, tear-stained face still buried sweetly in the crook of Gellert’s neck.

After all, there wasn’t a single matter of importance Albus had ever kept a secret from him on purpose, and there was much to be rectified now that his words could finally reach the ears of his beloved.

“Though perhaps...“ He pondered aloud after a brief pause. ”Perhaps you should see for yourself, see what words alone can and cannot convey to you in an adequate manner. You’re entitled to nothing less than the truth in its purest form from me. So, please, Gellert...”

#The Burden of Knowledge #magicblooms #IC

[tainted-prodigy]

The Burden of Knowledge

magicblooms​:

Gellert was visibly taken back by Albus’ words but he listened silently as the meaning settled into his bones. Whatever he had been anticipating upon his return, it had not been this. He had been prepared to hear about duty and guilt and family love and demands and expectations. He had not been expecting to hear that Albus had been having doubts about the movement and revolution that they had both pledged their devotion to that summer, as deeply as they had pledged themselves to one another. Was this what had led Albus to raise his wand against him? The gnawing doubt had continued to grow until it was a festering wound which had encompassed not only the revolution they had been planning but had included Gellert himself. Had Albus started to believe that perhaps he was sinful too? A wicked tempter, perhaps the devil himself, seducing his husband into evil acts, all in the name and pursuit of freedom? Not only for them but for all witches and wizards and magical beings. Did he imagine this revolution was entirely for selfish reasons alone? Did his husband think it was simply power he craved, as opposed to avoiding the terrible tragedies his gifts had forced him to already see? Perhaps this was his own fault. He had kept so much hidden from Albus that summer, not wanting to burden him even further. He had been coping with so much during the time they had met. The loss of his mother and the struggle to become the head of the household with a wayward brother and an unwell sister that had to be kept hidden from the world. How could he have told Albus of the looming wars that would be devastating in their impact? How could he explain the technologies and weapons the non magical were working on, that would soon far surpass anything the magical world currently had? It wouldn’t be long before they would use those weapons to turn against their enemies and if they learned of the existence of witches and wizards, the non magical would drive them to extinction. He had been planning to tell Albus, in due time when he felt his husband was ready to hear it. He had needed to focus on his own grief and getting himself settled into the role of a revolutionary, while also continuing to care for his sister as they had been planning to ready her to leave Godrics Hollow once she was more stable. He never could have imagined that summer would end the way it had. If he had known Albus was having these doubts, if he had even suspected, he would have done things differently. “You are not afflicted with a curse dear Albus, your actions are all your own. Both good and bad.” Gellert was not going to pretend that Albus’ actions didn’t continue to bother and concern him deeply. He couldn’t remain with someone that he couldn’t fully trust. He was willing to work with Albus on his doubts but he couldn’t force his husband to accept the harsh truths if he longed to remain hidden from them. “I will not apologise for who I'am Albus, nor do I intend to flagellate myself in penance to a deity who, if they do exist, has long abandoned us.” Gellert had no time for a God who clearly had turned their back against the world. Surely if an all powerful being did exist, he would have ensured his most gifted subjects were protected against those that would seek to harm them? “What use is concern over your destination after death if you find nothing but pain and misery in the world you leave behind? It is up to us to leave this place in a better state then we found it, regardless of the cost.” Gellert paused, taking a deep breath. Perhaps he was being too harsh, for he could see the genuine fear Albus was feeling.

“What exactly do you need to seek salvation for? What sins do you believe you have committed?” Whatever Albus might respond with, Gellert knew he himself had done already far worse. What would his husband say if he discovered just how far he was prepared to go to make their revolution a reality? For the greater good. No sacrifice was too great. Well, almost none. He couldn’t imagine he would ever sacrifice the wizard who stood before him.

Although Albus rarely hesitated to grant it to others, clemency wasn’t what he sought, nor required in that moment.

He couldn’t bear to listen to hollow platitudes, least of all when they were offered to him by Gellert Grindelwald without sincerity, by the incandescent revolutionary never once flinching in the face of adversity as he advocated for freedom and truth, for the noble principle of not merely acknowledging them as the highest virtues in the world, but also of reclaiming them especially when they were being withheld from their brothers and sisters in blood with malicious intent.

From Gellert’s lips, after all, such words were nothing but the honeyed lies he’d weave to direct his numerous acquaintances with even greater ease.

Not even his fear for their souls could hope to compare to the downright visceral terror the mere notion of degrading into someone Gellert rightfully dismissed as insignificant and replaceable evoked in Albus.

When Gellert reprimanded him instead, demanding answers he had every right to hear, he thus accepted the keen sting of Gellert’s sternness and disapproval with the profoundest of gratitude.

“I’ve always admired your refusal to bow to higher forces,” he uttered.  “To turn to them in a moment of despair. It’s commendable, the way you shape and reshape your reality with your actions, your words, the magnificent spells you cast…. Truly, it has been a privilege to witness you like this, to carry the spark you ignited within me when I was despondent after my mother’s passing. It occurs to me now that… I’ve never told you about the final time I ever spoke to my father, have I? I must confess he wasn’t in my thoughts that summer, not like Mother was those weeks.”

Albus sighed, and the bone-deep weariness overtaking his ashen features seemed ancient; his blue eyes were dull, unseeing, almost – two wretched prisoners of a distant past. Even so, he didn’t flinch away from Gellert’s scrutiny.

“That day, two Aurors arrived at our doorstep to take him to Azkaban for harming those Muggle boys. My father… he came quietly, you see? He didn’t protest, didn’t try to run… he confessed before they could have accused him of a single thing. All he asked for was a final moment to bid farewell to his adolescent sons and wife. To us. The Aurors permitted him to do so, though insisted Mother, Aberforth, and I take turns to say goodbye to Pa.”

His voice cracked as those memories seized him in their stone-cold grasp, the ponderous lump in his throat making it torturous, nigh-impossible, even, for him to tell his bleak tale to the end, and new tremors coursed through his emaciated form.

“It’s Pa’s voice I hear when- whenever I falter and doubt,” he finally sobbed. “But what right do I have to silence it- to silence Pa?!”

#The Burden of Knowledge #magicblooms #IC

[tainted-prodigy]

Dulce Peccatum

magicblooms​:

“Then I can promise you will not be without me again for as long as we both might live.” Gellert was certain that he would never voluntarily leave Albus. Unless he was certain that was what Albus truly wanted, although he couldn’t conceive why he would ever want such a thing. Now that they were together, he was sure that they would never part.

Gellert felt Albus grow heavier in his arms, his words clearly having their intended effect on Albus’ mood. He didn’t understand why anyone had let this man believe all these dreadful, self depreciating thoughts he held. If only Albus could see himself as he saw him. He was one of the most brilliant and brightest wizards of their age, how could he ever loathe himself so deeply?

The Dumbledores had suffered from so many great injustices. What had happened to Ariana - rather what he suspected had happened to Ariana - had been horrific. Made worse by a corrupt governments that were only interested in upholding discriminatory laws and ones that maintained a status quo that left their kind of suffer in silence. In constant fear of being discovered and punished for the crime of being born magical and not skulking in the shadows. As though somehow they should be ashamed of who they were. Magic bloomed in rare souls - why were they ordered to hide?

Albus never should have been trapped here in this tiny village, stifled with responsibilities that had fallen upon his shoulders. He had become the head of a household far too young, tasked with looking after an unstable sister and ungrateful brother. All in what was perhaps, the most boring of any village on the continent.

Why had their mother brought them here? Albus had said it was to hide Ariana from as many people as possible, although he was surprised they’d have wanted to live so close to so many non magical families. Perhaps it was because anyone without any knowledge of their world wouldn’t understand what they were seeing, even if they were to somehow see Ariana during an episode. They could not call a Ministry they didn’t know existed and it was easier to obliviate someone who didn’t have magic.

That was why Nurmangard was a perfect place for them to take Ariana, once she was well enough to travel. They couldn’t dare apparate with her, not so soon, not knowing how she might react to traveling by magic. The Floo network was out of the question, every single trip was tracked and traced. No, they would need to travel with her using Muggle transport, although Gellert knew he would be able to ensure as much privacy as possible. They’d take private carriages and compartments all the way and once they were there, Ariana and Albus - and even the brat - would be safer.

He understood, even sympathised why she had been hidden away here - he was already willing to protect her from those that would seek to lock her up. Simply because she was unable to control her magic after what had been done to her by those filthy Muggles. He couldn’t blame their father for seeking revenge on those boys, they had deserved it and Gellert knew he would have done far worse to them. Percival Dumbledore deserved praise, not a death sentence in Azkaban.

Gellert couldn’t change the past, but he could mold the future. He could give the Dumbledores a safe place to live. Ariana could have free roam of the castle and grounds once she was stable and comfortable enough. She would never have to hide again, since he and Albus were going to press forward with their revolution. They were going to transform the world, change the laws that hurt so many of their kind.

Albus’ words dragged him from his thoughts and he couldn’t help the smile that graced his lips. “My dear Albus, I intend to smother you with kisses upon kisses, on every inch of your body, for as long as I’m able to draw breath.” He tilted Albus’ head up so he could place a gentle kiss against his lips. “But I certainly promise that I intend to distract you from the weight of your own mind when I can see it’s becoming an overwhelming cacophony of doubts and fears, exactly as you have requested.” Gellert stroked his cheek gently before he kissed him once more, more insistent this time. How could he ever resist the man in his arms?

Albus found himself relaxing further at Gellert’s prompt reassurances, at the implication that Gellert would never allow him to be forlorn again, neither in the life ahead of him nor in death.

Not even a masterfully brewed Draught of Peace could have hoped to dispel his troubles as instantaneously as those attentive words, as that–deep, rich voice that seemed to resonate in his core, attuning his breathing to the even rise and fall of Gellert’s chest heartbeat by heartbeat.  

In hindsight, it might have occurred to him that not a single one of the numerous vials his peers at Hogwarts had produced would have met the Potion Association’s minimum requirements, let alone qualified for use in medical institutions such as St. Mungo’s. In fact, he might have even realized how the day he had encountered Gellert had upended his perception of the ordinary and of that which lay beyond.

(Had any of them ever performed true magic at Hogwarts? By now, Albus had long grown to reject such a foolish notion.)

Gellert’s subsequent declaration and promise prompted him to lay aside the fraying fabric of his thoughts along with his impeding and wholly undesirable compulsion to keep weaving it at any hour.

A visible shiver coursed through his form as he allowed Gellert to direct his head as he pleased, and held his breath in anticipation.

The soft pressure of Gellert’s eloquent lips against his own elicited a drawn-out sigh from Albus, followed by a needy whimper when Gellert pulled away far too soon.

“Please don’t stop, Gellert,” he begged, feverish and spellbound. “Please... not yet. Keep distracting me, so that this mangled, unworthy soul of mine may find salvation after all.”

The words tumbled from his mouth immoderately and unbidden. The part of his mind otherwise quick to reprimand him for the conduct most of his contemporaries would have condemned as indecent – blasphemous, even, was blissfully silent now.

His undivided focus rested on the tantalizing curve of his lover’s full lips, on those captivating eyes home to all glorious mysteries and miracles of the universe, to all things of beauty that could be tainted neither by this rotten world, nor by Death.

Love-drunk and mesmerized, he reached out to caress Gellert’s chiseled cheekbone in return.

As Albus gazed at Gellert through fluttering lashes, his brilliant blue eyes were aglow with adoration, with reverence, with a desire so profound it consumed him whole.

You’re the Greatest Good magic itself has ever witnessed, Gellert. And I adore you more than anything – more than anyone – else in the world , as well as in any realms that lie beyond.

#Dulce Peccatum #magicblooms #IC

[tainted-prodigy]

"And i'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, i'd find you and i'd choose you" - The Chaos of Stars

Grindeldore AU

#Grindeldore #Gellert x Albus #musing #Summer 1899 #magicblooms #aesthetics

[tainted-prodigy]

Dulce Peccatum

magicblooms​:

Gellert realised his mistake immediately, seeing the wince across Albus’ face. He had not meant to be discouraging, nor make him feel as though he was being set adrift across an ocean alone. He had only meant to further his confidence in himself, to assure Albus of the faith that he already had in him. “There is nothing wrong with not wanting a responsibility that never should have been yours. You have every right to be angry, resentful. You’re supposed to be out in the world, living your life exactly as you should be.” Gellert moved to wrap his arms around Albus, drawing him closer. He didn’t want him to feel lost, alone, not anymore. “Selfishly I can’t say that I’m entirely sorry you didn’t go - it ensured our meeting so much sooner. But you never should have spent the summer here, with the weight of the world on your shoulders. I never would have wished this upon you.” Gellert wanted to offer as much help as Albus would permit him to give. He knew the Dumbledores were private people. Gellert didn’t have much to offer, not yet and not in the way of financial aid. There was a stipend for school and living costs but he couldn’t claim his inheritance until he was 18. Even then, he knew the documents had been written in such a way that it held back some of the estate until he was 21, with the final access being granted when he was 25. His father didn’t trust him, even in death. Not that he was certain Albus would even accept what he had to offer him. He had already started to slowly make plans to move Albus and his family to Nurmengard, once it was ready for them and Ariana was stable enough to be moved. The changes he had in mind for the castle were being slowly arranged, to ensure Albus, Ariana and even that ungrateful brat Aberforth, if he wanted to join them, would be comfortable there. How he loathed Albus’ little brother. He infuriated him to no end, daring to speak to Albus is such a fashion! He knew Albus had asked him not to get involved but someone needed to teach Aberforth a lesson. He was a silly little boy who didn’t understand his older brother, nor the important revolution they were working toward. “It makes you neither spoiled nor selfish. It makes you human.” He stroked Albus’ hair gently, drawing his head down to rest upon his shoulder before he placed a kiss against his crown. “You are entitled to your own needs and wants and desires Albus. You have every right to want a life of your own and do everything in your power to take it.” Gellert knew that he would do anything in his power to ensure Albus had whatever he desired but he also didn’t want to strip Albus’ agency from him. Too many people had done that to him already. “But please, dear Albus, know that I’m not going anywhere. I meant what I have said before. I want you by my side for as long as you’ll have me.” Gellert wasn’t going to let Albus send him away, not unless he believed that was what he truly wanted. “I’m afraid you might be stuck with me for life.” He teased, trying to lighten the sombre mood as he pressed another kiss against the top of his head.

Albus released a shuddering breath the very instance he was engulfed in Gellert’s heavenly embrace, by the sole pair of arms strong enough to hold him without crumbling underneath the crushing weight of his imperfections and sorrows.

Despite the eloquence he was so often lauded for possessing in his academic writing and his verbal speech, he found himself unable to think of any words conveying the sheer extent of his relief and gratitude, how acutely aware he was there was no greater privilege, no greater blessing than being the one chosen by the ethereal man now holding him so tightly.

Closing his eyes, Albus offered no resistance as his limbs grew heavy against Gellert, as his senses surrendered to rise and fall of Gellert’s mellifluous voice, the familiar scent emanating from Gellert’s statuesque form.

He had been dying an excruciating, slow death before their paths had crossed: His mind and heart had been parched with loneliness, a lack of fulfillment so potent, so ubiquitous it had threatened to drive him mad. Their landscape had long withered into an icy wasteland mirroring the disposition of their sole cursed wanderer.

And then, Gellert had come, carrying within his soul a scorching flame that had all but instantly inflamed Albus’ own withering soul, a flame whose salvific heat had been sustaining Albus from that pivotal moment.

Only in Gellert’s arms was Albus able to embrace his own humanity, to allow himself to be stripped of his every mask and fabricated characteristic: Rather than condemning him for the sins and vices that would have inspired nothing but revulsion and outrage in Albus’ acquaintances and kin, Gellert bestowed upon him the gift of acceptance and understanding, no matter what wicked, selfish thought he confessed to.

In Gellert’s sublime words, he found absolution.

“The mere idea of being without you again is too cruel for me to dwell upon,” he whispered against Gellert’s chiseled collarbone. “You’re the single true blessing I received in this life. The most profound of all miracles. Keep persuading me with such peerless eloquence and wit, and one day, my misplaced emotions and doubts may just be eroded in their entirety. Until that day arrives for me, Gellert. whenever that troublesome conscience of mine becomes too heavy a burden… Would it be terribly cowardly of me to ask you to bewitch my senses and mind? To smother me with kisses upon kisses, until your name is the sole coherent word my mouth is capable of forming?”

#Dulce Peccatum #magicblooms #IC #implied sin? dunno?

[tainted-prodigy]

Dulce Peccatum

magicblooms​:

“My dear Albus, while I can help you on this journey, I’m afraid the only one that can convince you of anything is inevitably yourself. But I know that you are capable of doing anything you set your mind to. What is is exactly that you are most concerned about succumbing to? What vices bother you the most?”

Although Albus knew better than to mistake Gellert’s gentle, undoubtedly sincere words of reassurance for yet another aspect of his harrowing curse, he couldn’t prevent himself from wincing  all the same.

“I ought to agree with you, Gellert – and without a moment of hesitation at that,” he conceded wearily. “It’s what I’ve been expected to for as long as I can remember. To be wholly self-sufficient, so that people weaker than me may find the sympathetic ear they require so much more desperately. I must confess I so often lie awake at night, but it’s not those lost souls I think about, but you, how I yearn to be whisked away from this suffocating place and spend the rest of my life in your arms, blissfully oblivious to their misery as well as to my own.”

He attempted in vain to swallow the heavy lump in his throat, simultaneously aware that he deserved far worse than a discomfort so minuscule.

“My family… Ariana. I attempt to tell myself that I’ve been fulfilling my duties as their older brother, the only adult they have left. I tell myself that I’ve been caring for Ariana as my parents both made me promise I would… Yet have I not been hiding behind a veil of comforting half-truths and self-deceptions? To tell you the truth, I never cared to determine the reason Ariana at times refuses to eat with such vehemency. Not before Aberforth confronted me about my lack of conscience – my, in his words, ‘wicked eagerness to force her meals down her throat, so I could scurry back to your side, pretend I’d already rid myself of them for good.’”

Wincing at the recurring sensation of his head being stabbed repeatedly, he confessed, “I know he’s not merely lashing out in grief – or jealousy, even. For once, I’m the one who’s been blind. But my head is so heavy, Gellert… I cannot bear the thought of sacrificing the only true bliss I’ve ever known, yet I’m equally frightened of facing the spoiled selfish man I know this must make me.”

#Dulce Peccatum #magicblooms #tw: eating problems #IC