I do not own DGM or Harry Potter, I make no profit.

Harry Potter © JK Rowling

DGM © Hoshino Katsura

Chapter 1:
LOST DAYS

A bright flash of the purest white blinded him. The suddenness of it startled him and caused him to bring up his hands to protect his eyes, but Albus Dumbledore knew better than to hide and not know, so he forced his eyes open and lowered his arms. And what he saw was something he had never seen before, nothing quite as beautiful and astonishing had he ever been blessed with. The light was bright, but unexpectedly soft. The young man warily took a step toward the spectacle, wanting to observe it, but was stopped by his friend Gellert Grindelwald.

"Careful, Albus, something's coming out."

Albus averted his gaze from Gellert to the massive construction of diamonds and watched as the surface of the largest diamond was rippling like disturbed water. A magic neither of them had seen before, that's what it was, that's what made his eyes wide with wonder, like they hadn't been in years. And out of the silvery surface, there fell a figure as white as the diamonds it brought.
"Did an old man just fall out?" Gellert questioned, not quite able to hide his surprise. Albus just shrugged, equally astounded.

The pair of young men warily approached the unconscious figure lying on the ground. From this close by they could see all kinds of scars marring the skin of the 'old man', whom they now saw was not an old man at all.

"I believe this is a white-haired teen", Gellert stated the now obvious conclusion. The youth's face was covered with blood. And to both young men's horror, so was his entire body, the red slowly seeping through the white rags he wore. And on top of their shared horror, both were curious.

Taking immediate action (only slightly delayed by awe) Albus took his wand out and repeated the same spells over and over while Gellert took a moment to check their surroundings for too-curious-for-their-own-good muggles.

"See if you can get him to sit upright slightly"

Gellert looked back at his friend and then down at the body, complying without complaint. He carefully took the boy in hands and dragged him up on his lap. The boy's head lolled to the side with the motion, revealing his pale neck, collarbone and - tattoos? That's strange... He hadn't seemed to be the type for tattoos, but then again, they hadn't even talked yet. But... Gellert felt strange. Something wasn't quite normal about those tattoos - about anything about the boy really. But he was oh, so fascinating. Gellert moved the fabric aside to get a better look and noted how the tattoos seemed to be solid black all the way down to his - he stared at the hand lying limp next to his body - hand. It's finger nails were of the same nightly shade as the rest of his arm with uncut nails and a strange green cross to adorn the back. And he could feel it, he could feel the power radiating from it.

The boy let out a pained moan and shifted on the pavement, clearly not yet aware of the two in his presence. Albus, as well as Gellert, was completely silent as the boy opened his eyes to reveal bright silver pools.

...

Did it work? It wasn't as much of a question as it was a prayer for hope, directed at his uncle who had tried to save him from his ill fate at the Black Order. The Black Order, where he had been locked up in that dungeon - he quickly dismissed the though, he didn't want to think about it, didn't want to consider it would still be possible he was there.

Well we'll never know unless you open our eyes, will we? Came the soft and oddly reassuring reply of Neah.

But it hurts...

I know, Allen, I know. But we'll get though it, we always do.

And even though that's true, it took a great effort for him to say that as calmly as he did. Because the truth was: they had broken him. They tried breaking his Allen and very nearly succeeded in doing so, if not for him. Had he not taken over when things started to get worse, they would have broken Allen. That's right, just this once it hadn't been Allen who had had to pay, who had been broken; it was him. And he would do anything to hide it, because what kind of uncle would he be is he couldn't even protect his nephew, protect him from hurting, from worrying.
He would surface himself and go though the healing process instead of Allen but - he couldn't take it.

He had been broken.

Neah felt Allen prepare himself to go back to his body, to take control again and be greeted by all the pain he had had to suffer, and encouraged him.

Go on, Allen, it won't be as bad as last time.

And he had been right. But Allen couldn't stop the pained moan from escaping him as he was hit by the sore feeling he had in every limb and the stinging of some others; the cuts, he remembered. The contrast was simply so great to his months of blissful nothing that it hit him - much like being thrown into a tree, he noted absently. When he opened his eyes though, that was the worse of it. The light was so bright against anything he had seen in, he didn't even know how long it had been, that it felt like his eyes were burning out his head. It took him some time before they adjusted to the light, and when they did, he saw a man staring at him. A young man with auburn hair, who, if looked back on it years later, didn't look threatening at all. But back then? He panicked.

In a haze, he tried to scramble away from him, only to find out he couldn't. Feeling his heart beating even faster than it already did, he looked up to see what was holding him back and was met with another man who frighteningly close. But what surprised him most, was that both men seemed almost as startled as he was, and the both of them got to their feet quickly, grabbing at sticks which were then pointed at him.

Did that confuse him? Yes, it did, immensely so.

"Who are you?" Allen panted, exhausted.

"We would very much like to ask you the same", that was the blonde one, the one who had held him back. Or supported him? He wasn't sure.

And Allen steeled himself. He knew about his uncle, he wasn't stupid, and this time he was going to be the stong one; "My name is Allen Walker." His tone of voice left little room for fear to be reflected into it and silently, his uncle was proud.

The two young men shared a look, their arms lowering just slightly before the blonde outstretched his again with a flair of confidence and strength, most likely to show Allen he was not one to be messed with: "My name is Gellert Grindelwald," the confidence just oozed out of him, "pleasure to meet you" was that charm? That most definitely was charm. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all, and the fond smile that crossed to auburn-haired one wasn't missed by him either.

"Albus Dumbledore," he said, his voice was as soft as his smile, but as his friend(?), he didn't come across as 'to be messed with', either.

Allen didn't notice how he was shivering, his muscles were complaining - every bone in his body was complaining - and all too suddenly, he felt faint.

Albus lowered his wand a bit, concern reflecting in his eyes. "You shouldn't be standing", he said "You were badly hurt" the man took a step closer to him.

"Don't come any closer!" He yelled, feeling that wave of panic once more, not knowing it was actually Neah's panic that surged through his mind. His uncle, however, did notice and tried to correct his mistake.

Gellert was the one to speak next: "Calm down, we aren't going to hurt you" Allen easily dismissed those words, but did calm down, courtesy of a calming hum in the back of his mind.

...

Albus stared the boy down; he really didn't seem like a threat - unless cornered - which is exactly the reason why he realised he and Gellert should stop cornering him. Slowly, he lowered his wand and glanced at Gellert, urging him to do the same. Gellert shared a strange look for a moment before he lowered his wand as well, keeping a close eye on the boy.

Allen scowled at the two, it didn't do much to his temper that he was restless and either forced to trust two strangers and then face the consequences as he loses his consciousness - and he will - or not trust them and see what difference that makes other than his own fear.
He looked between the two once more and decided: trust it is then, before his head weighed down on him and he lost consciousness.

...

Albus and Gellert had quickly agreed to take the boy to safety, neither of them having noticed the diamond construction to have disappeared together with Allen's consciousness. And to be completely honest, Albus had expected a bit more resistance to the matter on Gellert's part, but there was none. And due to the few muggles they were bound to cross paths with on their way to Gellert's house (Albus hadn't thought it to be wise to invite a complete stranger into his house with his little sister and brother around) they had been forced to carry the white-haired youth to and through Bagshot's front door where they had been relieved of the burden by levicorpus.

The boy's pale skin looked white against the dark red sheets of Gellert's bed. Albus glanced at Gellert for the thousandth time that day, and instead of sharing a look, this time Gellert's gaze had been fixed on the Walker boy. When the two of them had been cleaning the blood off of him, off of his face, they had revealed a scar, a thin curved line across his left eye that adorned an inverted pentacle on his forehead. They had already taken notice to the fact that the boy who was now resting peacefully had been tortured before his arrival here, the indications were too evident to ignore. Albus had wondered whether this scar had been a pleasure of his torturers, but as Gellert had noted, the scar seemed too old, too different from the others to be just that.

Gellert glanced at the boy's arm once more before he left the bedroom to join his friend downstairs by the dancing flames of the hearth. Even though it was summer and fall had yet to come, it was cold out that evening. Albus had left a moment earlier to make them both a cup of tea and Gellert knew he would find a plate of sweets as well as he met him.
Albus kindly smiled up at him from where he was seated in the armchair opposite of the sofa Gellert made himself comfortable in. Ever since the two of them had met about a month or two ago, they had been together at all time except for at night when both young men had to return to their own houses for a good night of sleep. But even then, nothing could stop each other from writing letters their owls brought back and forth between their windows.

Silently they agreed that the teen in Gellert's room was no danger to them, nor their plans. They would, however, have to find a way to see whether this boy was a wizard - or a muggle.

...

The following two days the teen hadn't let himself heard of at all in his comatose sleep and all the time, Gellert had been forced to sleep on the couch. What's more, the duo had been reluctant to leave him alone, but they had been planning for weeks on leaving for another town to start the search for their most desired Deathly Hallows, hopefully to find more clues about their whereabouts.

On the third night, Gellert had been startled awake by the most terrifying scream he had ever heard. He had flown to his feet in a matter of seconds and made for his room, silently thanking his aunt was out of town. Allen was tossing and turning, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth wide open. Gellert cursed a thousand curses as he attempted to hold him down so he didn't manage to hurt himself. Before he even succeeded in the slightest, Albus came barging in.

"What happened?" he demanded quickly as he hurried over to their side.

"I don't know, it must be a nightmare"

Albus turned to the tossing teen and stroked his hair in attempt to comfort him, though Gellert doubted he even noticed, he didn't stop struggling, that's for sure. And yet Albus continued doing as he did.

"It's alright, Allen, no one is going to hurt you. You're safe" It took about half an hour before the boy calmed down enough and they managed to wake him up.
To their surprise, instead of the silver pools, they were met with two pale golden orbs. 'Allen' was still panting and dazed as he looked around, not finding anything he recognised. That's good, he told himself before he laid his eyes upon the two young men. And these young men? They didn't mess around.

"Why are your eyes gold?" asked the blonde one, Gellert, came the reminder of his nephew. He didn't answer him though, he just shifted his gaze bach to his surroundings, inspecting the room and memorizing every crook and cranny.

"Allen," he looked back at the pair, eyes fixed on Albus, "answer him, what happened to your eyes?"

"My name is not Allen"

Albus was startled, not only the boy's eyes had changed, but his voice as well. No, it hadn't changed, he just used it differently, like he was a complete other person. Beside him, Gellert made the same conclusion; "Then who are you?", he asked.

"Neah."

...

Neah stayed with them for over a week, he explained how Allen was weakened by the power it had taken him to escape. Apparently, when Neah activated the memories of the fourteenth to use his power as the magician, he used up Allen's energy instead of his own. It all made sense if you considered how Allen was his host, which made him a sort of parasite. He had taken quite some time to tell them about the Order and the Noah and as a wizarding community, they easily accepted the existence of a secret organisation fighting a secret war that could affect all, he told them about the innocence and revealed the black arm. Of course he couldn't activate it - hell, he couldn't even move it - but it seemed to help them to understand. Yet every time they asked him about the scar on his - or rather Allen's - left eye, he stayed quiet. 'It's not my story to tell', he had said.

Of course, this worked the other way around as well. Albus and Gellert - well mostly Albus, but still - had taken it upon themselves to share (some of) the secrets of the wizarding world, only to find out they didn't have to:

"Spare your breath," Neah dismissed them, "I was a wizard too before I died."

"You were?" Albus asked curiously and Gellert joined in: "What do you mean 'was'?"

Neah nodded silently before starting his hundredth explanation; "When I was killed, my magic died with me. I know it's hard to understand because I know how you think magic is connected to the soul and will survive with it no matter what, but I can tell you it's not. Magic is manifested when the link between 'soul' and blood or body are favourable. My soul hasn't changed, you see, but my body has. And sadly enough, Allen was nor is a wizard, not now and not ever. I would love to be able to flick a wand again, but I have no such luck."

"You mean like a wand?", Gellert inquired, earning a look from Albus which he returned before looking back at Neah: "Albus and I have done a lot of research on wands, but even with the basics the same applies, doesn't it?" The question was more turned to Albus than to Neah, who just listened quietly.

"I think what Gellert is trying to say is that the wand wood has to be compatible to the magical properties of the core" he looked at Gellert for confirmation, which he got with a nod and reply.

"Yes, indeed, and the core always comes from a magical creature, which would mean -" he paused, "- which would mean you can make wand cores out of wizard blood?"

Neah nodded, "It's technically possible, but honestly, it would make a poor conductor compared to unicorn, dragon or phoenix."

They went on in their speculations until finally the words fell: The Deathly Hallows. Neah was completely absorbed in the stories the two had to offer and the speculations they had made over the months they had been friends. He was truly fascinated by how far they had gotten is so little time and the fact that they did while neither of them had reached proper adulthood. But more than that: the power it would bring him if he were the one to unite all three Hallows, he would be able to do it.

He would be able to defeat the Millenium Earl.

And that is how he joined them on their quest, keeping quiet about his own plans and plotting ways to keep the arifacts to himself as they went on in their journey.

But one day his eyes opened silver.

"Neah, I have found a way to detect the magical signature of the Elder Wand, at least I thought I did, it doesn't seem to work. Can you-" Gellert stopped mid-sentence as he looked up from the old book had been holding to look at Neah, but didn't find the golden eyes he had gotten so used to. "Allen."

Allen furrowed his brows in confusion, Gellert had just barged in and started talking about magic as is it was the most natural thing.

Thank you for reading, hope you liked it! Reviews are always greatly appreciated *nudge nudge*

This work is also posted on deviantART and is a rewrite of a fic also posted there.
username: LordPeachy

It can also be found on Tumblr. (so no reposts, that would be nice.)
username: allcnwalker
tag: breakdown