Disclaimer: Anything recognisable belongs to J. K. Rowling. I don't make money with this.

Immortal

"Reveal your secret."

"Show yourself."

"Specialis revelio."

"Sesam öffne dich."

"I command you to yield the information you conceal!"

"Edro hi ammen! Lasto beth lammen!"

Incantations in all tongues were being uttered, flashes of lightning in all colours were crashing against the old gravestone. But nothing happened. It was by no means a very big or very impressive gravestone, quite the contrary, but no matter how commanding the voices, no matter how aggressive the spells – it just remained standing there as it had stood there for centuries through many cold winters and many warm summers like this one. The fleeting memories of all it had seen in its long life (death?) seemed to be engraved in its withered surface. Today it saw the flawless blue sky of the hottest day of the year so far.

"Let's try it together. Maybe the spell just needs to be powerful enough to work," said Albus and pushed his sweaty hair away that stuck to the back of his neck.

Gellert nodded fiercely, licked his dry lips and took his stance. Albus mimicked his posture so that both their wands pointed at the skew headstone. Unlike the newer graves which were arranged in neat rows further down, the gravestones on the little hill on which the church stood seemed to have been randomly placed around the sandstone building.

"On the count of three," Albus said, trying to focus in the simmering heat of the sun's highest position. "One, two, three – specialis revelio!"

The air around the gravestone crackled, blinding white sparks sizzled around it – but all that happened was that a little part of the tombstone crumbled down. The two young men remained standing silent for a moment, observing the damage they had caused.

Finally, Gellert chuckled briefly. "Well, that certainly was powerful enough," he commented and added with a casual swish of his wand: "Reparo."

Sighing, Albus sat down next to the gravestone in the grass, which was dried yellow from days and days without rain.

"We are wasting precious time here. There is no hidden message at this grave."

"So what else are we going to do? This grave is the only clue we have to go on." Their voices were the only sounds far and wide. There was not the slightest breath of wind. No one else was outside at this time of the day.

"Well, it looks like we have to do more research then."

"Research, research … You can't just always only do research. At some point you need to act, Albus, otherwise it will only stay a dream."

It happened seldom that Albus was criticised. The only one who ever did so was his younger brother but he did not attach much value to Aberforth's opinion. Gellert, however, was allowed to criticise him as much as he wanted because he was an equal and because he pronounced Albus' name like that and gave him that smile.

"Maybe …" Gellert started pacing around the grave in forceful strides. He was speaking mostly to himself. "Maybe … I've only read about it, never tried it before … It's a bit unorthodox, yes, but it could work … It should work. Yes." He turned around to look at Albus with a determined gaze. "I think I know a way to find out more. It's quite a tricky spell, so don't interrupt me, please."

"Alright." Curious as to what Gellert's latest idea was, Albus watched him. Gellert wiped his sweaty wand hand dry on his trousers before focussing on the gravestone again. He closed his eyes, tensed all his muscles and muttered an incantation in a language Albus did not understand. Gellert's words were becoming louder and louder, sounding more and more like a command, more and more menacing, but all Albus could think about was how terrifyingly beautiful Gellert looked when he performed magic like this.

A cloud of black smoke appeared over the grave. Gellert continued chanting his incantation and the cloud swivelled around faster and faster until the black dust formed a skull. The hot summer air suddenly became chilling when the skull morphed into a face contorted with pain. The man whose face the dust showed was very old and there was terror in his great sunken eyes.

"Let me go," he gasped.

"Reveal your secret," Gellert muttered hoarsely. "Tell us about the Deathly Hallows."

"Please, let me go," pleaded the ghost of Ignotus Peverell, who had died centuries ago.

"Not before you tell us," Gellert said.

Albus felt a deadly fear creeping over him. "Gellert," he said softly. "Stop it." He reached for his own wand but he did not know any counter spell for such unorthodox magic. "Stop it. Please," he said once again.

But Gellert did not hear him. He seemed to be in a state of rapture and ordered again and again: "Reveal your secret!"

And then, at long last, Ignotus Peverell spoke: "The unworthy owner of the Unbeatable Wand will be defeated. The unworthy owner of the Resurrection Stone will die. Only a worthy man can unite the three Hallows and can become truly Master of Death."

Gellert let go of the hold he had on Ignotus Peverell and the face of dust dissolved into nothingness with a hollow wail. Gasping, Gellert sank down next to Albus. He looked exhausted but very contented.

He was smiling.

Albus turned away and stared at the wild roses, whose sweet scent suddenly sickened him.

"Did you hear that?" Gellert whispered excitedly.

"You disturbed his peace," Albus said quietly. "You violated his tomb. That's dark magic, Gellert."

"Why, what's dark about it?" Gellert took Albus' face in his hands and turned it so he was forced to look at Gellert. "I didn't bring Ignotus Peverell back. It was just an image of him. Legilimency on a memory, if you want. Calling this dark magic because I supposedly disturbed the dead is nonsense, it's superstitious. The dead are dead and remain dead. What difference makes a tomb? It's just a reminder for the living who need something to pretend the dead are still with them. Don't tell me I committed a crime because I 'violated' a tomb. The dead are gone, forever, and no kind of magic can bring them back."

Albus felt something constrict in his chest and there was the now familiar lump in his throat whenever he thought of the little grave further down the hill with fresh soil on it and the shrivelled daisies that Ariana had placed there.

Gellert must have realised what his words had done to Albus because a gentler look came into his eyes. He brushed his thumb over Albus' cheek and smiled.

"Unless, of course, you have the Resurrection Stone." He moved his face closer to Albus and said in an uncharacteristic soft voice: "We will bring your mother back. And your father, too. I promise."

Silently, Albus nodded, the lump still in his throat but it dissolved when Gellert kissed him. At first it was a tender kiss but Gellert would not have been Gellert if it had stayed that way. His hands slowly ran down Albus' sides and he deepened the kiss until Albus' back was pressed against the gravestone. Albus registered dimly that there was something wrong with this.

"Gellert," he mumbled and pried Gellert's hands away from their tight grasp on his cloak.

"What?" Reluctantly, Gellert let go of him and stopped for a moment. However, Albus was still effectively trapped between the gravestone and Gellert's body.

"It's not right," he said uneasily.

Gellert laughed disbelievingly. "After two weeks you suddenly decide that two men doing this together is wrong? That's a bit hypocritical, don't you think?"

"No, not that. We just shouldn't do it here."

"Why, afraid that someone might see us?" Gellert's expression darkened. "There is no reason for us to hide. Why should we have to hide magic? Why should we have to hide – this? How could it be wrong? It's not a sin, Albus, it's not wrong to do this."

"I never said it was a sin." Albus studied Gellert's face and wondered if anyone had ever told Gellert he was a sinner for being this way. "I simply don't like doing it at this place, at a cemetery."

"Ah. Scruples to disturb the dead?" Albus noticed with relief that Gellert's voice had become more challenging again. "You know, Albus …" Gellert entangled one hand in Albus' hair, pulled his head back and moved closer until his mouth was directly over Albus' ear. "One day, Albus, one day people will declare us holy." His voice was only a breathy whisper and it sent pleasant shudders down Albus' spine. "Then everything we do will be holy. This, what we do together will be holy."

His heart beating quickly, Albus muttered, "We are not holy, Gellert."

"No, we are not." Gellert's fingers were ghosting over his neck. "And we will never be. But people – stupid, ordinary people – will believe us holy. And that is the important point. We can create a world in which people won't have to hide. We will teach them what is right and what is wrong."

Gellert was talking about wizard supremacy and laws to control muggles but all Albus heard was 'we' and 'together'. And he sensed Gellert's warm body pressed close against his own so that not even a breeze of air would have fitted between them, Gellert's hot breath against his skin, the sun burning down on him, the sweet smell of the wild roses. He did not notice the thorns boring into his palms, nor did he notice that his back rubbed painfully against the rough stone. Because Gellert's words between sticky summer kisses were pure magic and love declarations in one.

"Worthy owners of the Deathly Hallows, that's what we will be. Together, we can unite them."

"Yes, together." Albus stared into Gellert's eyes and, in spite of his earlier protestations, pulled him closer so that their heated foreheads were touching. "Do you believe in fate, Gellert?"

"Fate? No. But I believe in magic, old magic that the fools who study the future will never understand. We were meant to meet. I know we were."

Albus captured Gellert's lips in another warm kiss. Although it was too hot and their two long hair and their clothes were too sweaty, he could never get enough of touching Gellert, of feeling his body like his own, of dreaming together.

"We are meant to find the Hallows," Albus whispered.

"Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald, invincible Masters of Death."