Chapter Fourteen : Albus

"Wizards should not go seeking revenge, killing, or death in general. After all, revenge, death and killing in general have a way of showing up whether you are looking for them or not."

from The Teachings of Ebenezum, Volume I

I helped myself to another bowl of that delightful chocolate-frosted cereal while watching the sleepy faces of the few students and teachers that were already up and having an early Sunday breakfast.

Minerva was up already, of course, looking almost annoyingly awake, and discussing the latest Thaumaturgic Times with Professor Ogham over a bowl of fresh strawberries. Otherwise, the teacher's table was deserted apart from Severus, who seemed to have finished his breakfast and was merely glaring at the few assembled students – even though none of them looked awake enough to be capable of any mischief, I thought, slightly amused. Sleepy-looking as they all were, though, only one of them matched Severus himself in looking, quite frankly, as if they had not slept at all this week – Angelina Johnson, of course.

I sighed quietly ... I dearly loved Severus, but that girl sure had had quite a burden thrust upon her by fate. And I could think of so very little to help her ... I did not know her particularly well, truth be told, and so I felt that the task of being the proverbial shoulder to cry on was better tackled by her class. Indeed, they were there with her, even though the two girls in particular looked as if they'd fall asleep any second. And by the way the Weasley twins were directing glares at Severus when they thought nobody would notice, I felt sure she had poured out her heart to them. Which was to be expected, discretion or no, and did not particularly alarm me – Gryffindors, in times of trouble, tended to stick together tightly.

Resolutely, I pushed the memory of Peter Pettigrew back – being pessimistic would serve no one. I would simply remain observant. And Miss Johnson needed any help she could get.

Severus, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. His nature was neither easygoing enough to form friendships easily –in fact, 'easygoing' about summed up all that he was not– nor did he share his troubles with anyone if he could help it. I sometimes thought that he might consider me as a sort of friend, but that was probably hubris. In short, I could not think of a lot of ways to help him through this, either.

And I positively hated being helpless.

I sighed again. Ah well, I had to talk to Severus in private this morning, anyway, concerning this letter my colleague from the Massachusetts Institute of Magic had sent me, so maybe ...

Wishful thinking, you old fool.

Severus seemed to be about to leave the table, so I reluctantly left the rest of my cereal and got up myself to head him off. When he saw me coming, his eyes became wary – so much for that hope. I quietly told him, "Would you mind joining me in my office for a second breakfast, Severus ? I am in need of your expertise concerning potions."

He tensed at my words about a second breakfast, but then relaxed again upon hearing the rest. He nodded curtly, and we made our way up to my office.

I asked a house-elf to fetch some more breakfast for the two of us, and got myself another bowl of cereal with some extra honey – Severus, as I had expected, took nothing, merely scowled at me, wordlessly urging me to go on.

I sighed inwardly, then decided that trying to get him to relax was a lost cause, and began, "Severus, please let me first assure you that the question I am about to ask you has a very good reason. That being said, how much do you know about Muggle psychedelic drugs ?"

He looked at me in surprise. "Not much, to be honest, apart from some anecdotes about my brothers getting their meagre minds buzzed through a straw at their boarding school. Why do you ask ?"

I put down my spoon. "I received a letter from my colleague at the MIM yesterday evening, telling me of a very curious incident he says an acquaintance of his witnessed some three decades ago – the death of a Dementor."

Severus' eyes widened slightly in surprise, but then he raised an eyebrow, saying, "Almost impossible, I would say. How is this supposed to have happened, and how reliable is this acquaintance ?"

"He swears that she is a respectable woman these days," I answered. "And supposedly this happened at a huge Muggle gathering where a lot of said substances were in circulation. Apparently there was a lot of what was supposed to be music, too, but she said this was less likely as the cause."

He still looked sceptical. "And how did this Dementor purportedly die ?"

"According to the letter," I answered, "a dozen or so were attracted to this huge emotional cesspool and began feeding off the Muggles, unseen by them. But after a while, one of them tried to feed off one particular girl that seemed so completely taken by the effect of whatever she had taken that the Dementor drained her, and drained her, and still she would smile absentmindedly, seemingly unaffected. The Dementor then tried harder, to no avail, and finally it had taken up too much, or so it seemed, of whatever she had given off and exploded in a hazy cloud. The others of its kind, having seen that, fled the place hastily and did not return."

"A tall tale," Severus commented. "So what you say is that through substance abuse some Muggle became a kind of human Patronus, consisting of happy feelings only ?"

"I know it sounds odd," I sighed. "And it cannot be easy to reproduce, since it was probably just a lucky chance – the other drug-affected Muggles fed the Dementors just as well or, in some cases, even better than the average human. But still, this is the first lead we have had in ages."

"So you expect me to analyse these substances, don't you ?" Severus sounded slightly peeved. "Albus, I know nothing about them, up to and including where to get them in the first place."

"Hmm ... I think I might know who could get some for you," I commented.

"I sure do not want to know any details about this," he replied.

"Fine with me, Severus. And thanks for volunteering to analyse them," I smiled. He just scowled as I went back to my cereal.

He watched me take a bite or two, still scowling, then commented wearily, "Now ask already, old man."

I looked up in surprise. "Ask what ?"

He sighed. "Stop pretending you will let me leave your den without asking me about how things proceed with this damned curse upon Miss Johnson and myself. You are not fooling anyone."

I could not help but smile a little. "Well, now that you mention it yourself ... how are things going between Miss Johnson and you, Severus ?"

"I never said I would actually answer such a question," he replied. "But there is little to tell anyway. She detests me, I detest her, neither of us has got any decent sleep for a week, and death has never looked so inviting to me before."

I shook my head. "You would never take that way out, Severus."

He scowled. "Yes, and damn you for being right ! It would be a lot easier than trying to find a way of living with this bond."

I replied, "Two people coming together is never easy, Severus. Granted, them actually liking each other is a great help, but there are still a lot of obstacles to overcome."

His scowl deepened. "And how would you know of it, old man ? In the quarter of a century I have known you, I have never seen you so much as flirt, let alone come together with anybody. Please leave that sort of mushy advice to the agony aunt of Witch's Weekly."

I smiled sadly. "When the sun has set, no mere candle can replace it, Severus."

He replied hotly, "See ? That's another of those ..." then suddenly stopped. "Just what are you trying to tell me ?" he drawled.

I shook my head. "Nothing. Ignore an old man's ramblings; there are some things better left buried by the sands of time. But never assume, Severus, that things have always been like they are now. By wizard's standards, you are still a stripling, and sometimes even you actually show it." I gave him a little smile.

The scowl had returned. "Old, curious, miserly bastard. You try and get everyone else around you to spill their innermost secrets to you, but never even disclose that you have any secrets of your own, if you can help it. Are you perfectly sure the hat placed you in Gryffindor ?"

"Well, that is my story and I am sticking to it," I replied, beaming at him, knowing this would upset him further. It was a dangerous gamble – plus I was improvising, since it would never have occurred to me that this was the way I could possibly get him out of his shell. But it was worth a try.

Indeed, his scowl deepened. "Well, old man, Gryffindor or not, we are playing this by the Serpent's Den rules now. You want me to tell you anything, you spill your own beans first."

Got you. "Okay," I replied, my smile widening, "deal. Of course, you realise that after my tale has been told, it will be your turn."

His eyes glittered balefully. "I am going to ask the hat about you one of these days." Then his features relaxed a bit, and he sighed, "Well, it was not as if I expected you to let me get away, anyway. And now come on, tell me about this sun of yours."

Refusing to be offended by his tone –I knew he did not take well to defeat– I merely shook my head a little and began, "I am not sure why you even want to hear this tale, Severus, as my love died for half a century ago. But if you insist ... " I closed my eyes, straining to travel back in the vast maze of my memories.

"Joshua and I met when we were not long out of apprenticeship, and we were lovers for more than seventy years." I heard Severus inhale sharply in surprise when I mentioned Joshua's name, but he was too well-bred to show any other reaction. I continued, "We were bound together by love as much as insatiable curiosity for the ways of magic, and travelled for most of our partnership, visiting all continents, learning from mystics and shamans, from witch doctors and sorcerers. We learned, we loved, we shared. I could not have imagined any better life."

"Back then," I continued, "neither of us was really interested in the Muggle world – not when there was so much magic out there that we had not yet seen and learned. Joshua, however, had ... experimented ... during his apprenticeship, and he had a daughter, Sarah, by a Muggle woman of his people. Sarah also was a Muggle, and Joshua loved her dearly –as did I– and whenever we were passing through, or staying, in Europe, we would take a stop in Passau and visit her, and later her children too, and her grandchildren, and be happy with what was our family, in a way."

"In hindsight, though, our failure to pay more attention to the ways of the Muggles cost us dearly. We were in New Zealand for a couple of years, studying Maori wizards' rituals and the rich magical fauna of the area. When we came back to Europe, we went to pay our usual visit to Sarah and her family – only to learn that a madness of the most hideous sort had taken hold of the Muggles, and that Sarah was dead, and her children, and even the little ones; they had all been killed, for no other reason than their ancestry."

"Something inside Joshua snapped, and snapped badly. Whatever I tried to comfort and calm him, it was of no avail. When he finally came out of his fits of senseless rage and destruction, he declared that since the Muggles showed even less sense than the common beasts, who never turned on each other without any reason, they should be treated as such by their superiors, the wizards. He went on to found an order called the Hand of Justice, who took it as their task to disperse heavy-handed vigilante justice against the Muggles they deemed deserving of punishment."

"Now many of the European wizards and witches, who had been witnessing the madness spreading among the Muggles firsthand, found this stance and his order to be a sensible concept, and its ranks soon swelled. I tried to warn him, so often, that by this course of action he would become just like those he detested so much, but it was of no avail, he would not listen to me. He had become obsessed with the Hand and with what he deluded himself was justice."

"Finally I realised that there was only one way left for me to go. I joined forces with those wizards and witches who, lead by the Order of the Phoenix, were trying to stop the grisly doings of the Hand of Justice. The war was long and bloody – not a reign of terror like Voldemort's, sure, for both sides only accepted volunteers and tried not to let neutral wizards and witches come to harm; but so huge ... battles were fought all over Europe, and even in some other parts of the wizarding world. But finally we prevailed. One by one, the Hands were brought to their senses, or stopped forever – all of them but their leader."

"During the fighting, it had become clear that all the studying and learning Joshua and I had undertaken solely for the pleasure of knowledge translated into rather frightening amounts of fighting power when put to the test. All too many wizards and witches went against him both in open duels and in surprise attacks, and none of them returned. He seemed unstoppable. And to this day I rue that it took me so long to realise that there was only one wizard who was able to stop him. And so I went to the Black Forest, and I pleaded with him one last time, even though I knew it was no use. Then I challenged him, won, and then buried him with my own hands at a site whose location I will take to my grave. And then I returned to the wizarding world, and was celebrated as their saviour, and elected as the one to replace the deceased head of the Order of the Phoenix. None of them realised –or wanted to realise– that my own heart was buried there in the forest; it has lain there undisturbed for fifty years now."

I slowly opened my eyes, returning to the present, to find Severus staring at me, pale. "Joshua ... Grindelwald ?"

I just nodded.

Severus seemed at a loss of words. I poured myself another cup of tea and, sipping it, waited him out. Finally, he managed, "Bugger, Albus, I did not mean to stir something like this up again in you ! Why didn't you stop me ?"

I gave him a smile over the rim of my teacup. "You did not stir up anything bad, my dear boy. With time, all bitterness flees from memories. When I nowadays think of Joshua –and there is not a single day that I do not– I remember us sitting together in the Kalahari, sharing stories with our hosts at a campfire and looking up to the stars in the clear, wide night sky. My mind's eye sees us travelling up the Orinoco, or huddled together against the bitter cold of a Tibetan monastery. Those few, bad years when we grew estranged do not count much against a lifetime of love. And I hope that now, freed from a mortal's limited point of view, he can see why I had to act like I did, and that he is watching me from beyond the Veil, waiting for me to finally finish this task laid upon me, so that I can come and join him at last, and we will pass beyond the Mountains together ... all the same, I never dared cross the Veil ever since I killed him. There are some hopes a man cannot afford to possibly lose."

An odd shadow passed Severus' face when I said that. He seemed preoccupied for a few moments, then remarked, "I think I shall have some more tea, after all, or what passes for tea in this castle," and poured himself a cup.

We drank in silence for a while. Severus was the one to finish his cup first, and, putting it down and refilling it, he sighed. "All I can think of telling you of my own predicament sounds so incredibly petty right now. Somehow, my lament of What have I done to deserve this ? does not have quite that dramatic ring anymore." He laughed mirthlessly. "But I suppose I needed a correction of my perspective more than anything, anyway. Miss Johnson correctly told me so, yesterday."

"That she did ?" I mentally added, And she walked out of your rooms in one piece ?

He nodded. "Truth be told, she handles this blasted situation far better than I ever would have given her credit for – and a lot better than I handle it, in fact. Being bonded with me must be the stuff she could not have imagined in her worst nightmares, and yet she faces it bravely and with determination. Remarkable for a Gryffindor, indeed."

I suppressed a smile ... Severus being who he was, I had expected that slam at the end of what sounded remarkably like a genuine compliment. Draining and refilling my own cup, I replied, "She was better prepared for it, Severus. This is African magic, after all, and from what she told me she grew up with stories about this bond. On the other hand, it probably took you a while to accept the reality of the situation."

The dark look he shot me told me I had hit on a truth there. He added, "I am still not fully convinced this is unalterable. However, for the time being I will treat it as such. Wishing it were not will not make the bond go away, and I am too old for deluding myself thus. Given the facts of the situation, I owe it to Miss Johnson and myself to try and find a way to live with this bond that is acceptable to both of us, small as the likelihood for something like that being feasible might seem."

He's already thinking in concepts like 'acceptable to both of us' ? That Zingsti is strong magic indeed ... I hid my surprise by munching on another spoonful of cereal. When the last traces of its delightful sweetness had left, I said, "All the same, I know it cannot be easy for you to adapt. You never liked being forced into something, and you have lived alone for years now ..." Truth be told, apart from a handful of casual flings I could not remember him ever having any serious relationship after Jennet had killed Miss Delleray in self-defence, and nowadays –I guessed the constant reminder of this in the form of Mister Longbottom's presence hurt him more than he would ever admit to anyone– he had stopped seeking female companionship altogether to the best of my knowledge.

He gave me a hint of a smile. "To say I never liked being forced into something is like saying Mandrakes do not like being pulled out of their pots and diced for use in potions. I bloody hate it, Albus." Suddenly his voice took on an odd quality, as he continued, "And this bond is scaring me near witless to boot. When Miss Johnson is close to me, it stirs up all kinds of emotions and reactions in me that I never would have thought myself capable of. I do not know myself anymore, Albus. This magic is slowly sinking its root into my heart, robbing me of my self-control, threatening to lay my innermost self bare to a girl I hardly even know. And I can do nothing to stop it – I could push her away, but she made me realise that we are so tightly bonded that this would break her; and that I cannot do. Yet, I do not have the slightest idea how to get on with it, either."

He took a deep breath. "Oh, but my body has all kind of ideas and suggestions about that for sure. I might act like I am cool and in control when I am around her, but the truth is that there is a hunger in me, a raw need for her touch and her presence –and yes, for her body too– that is gnawing at me day and night and slowly driving me insane. And she is making it worse by offering herself to me in the most direct manner, saying that she cannot withstand that urge any longer. I can understand that –if I am honest, I am not sure if I can keep it at bay for much longer myself– but does she even realise what it costs me to refuse her ? But I dare not do otherwise – were I to accept and give in to this need, I feel I would not be capable of any self-control anymore. And I do not want to rape her, Albus – and rape it would be, consented or not. I do not even know why I am caring so much for that girl, but damn it, I do ! And this is scaring me worst of all." His outburst finished as suddenly as it had begun, he stared into his teacup, tense and silent.

Oh dear. I had known that this Zingsti was powerful magic, but it seemed I had genuinely underestimated its scope. The mere fact that Severus had let himself go like that in front of me told me much about how deeply unsettled he was –this had never happened before, not even when he had returned from the bowels of the castle last year– and his words had added to that impression. Just a single wrong word now, and he will snap closed again like an oyster. Yet, I knew he deserved to hear nothing but the truth from me – I just hoped that I could tell it to him in a way that did not upset him too badly.

I tried to sound sincere and calm –I knew how he hated anything he deemed mushy– as I said, "You know, and I know that you do, that there is only one way out of this, Severus. I can understand that you do not like it." I sighed. "But if you want to avoid a scenario like the one you described –and the longer you wait, the more likely it is going to become– you will have to be honest with her. No more coolness, no more control. I know that your teacher's instinct is strong, but this situation is as new to you as it is to her. So let go of the notion that she must not become aware of the fact that you are overwhelmed by it, too. This is a life lesson, not a Potions lesson."

He looked up from his teacup then, his eyes even darker than usual. "Easier said than done, old man."

I nodded. "I know, Severus. Opening up is hard, and there is no basis of trust to build upon between you yet. But remember what you told me last year – 'Continuing on one's path is a lot easier when there is really no way but forward.' "

He scowled at me, but his words lacked bite as he said, "Trust you to throw my own stupid words back at me, old man. I was really at the end of my tether back then, you may recall."

I smiled a little. "As opposed to now ... ?"

He sighed. "Damn it, Albus, could you not be wrong on occasion ? It is a royal pain to debate with you."

"I take that as a compliment," I beamed back at him.

He nodded, and got up. "It was, after a fashion. But please excuse me now, I really feel like flooing back to my quarters and trying to have a nap – probably a fruitless endeavour, but I will try regardless."

I hesitantly ventured, "How about if you," dear me, how can I put this with someone as prickly as him ?, "try and relieve some tension first ? Maybe that will help ..."

He shot me a dark look. "Very funny, old man. I did not even relieve tension so frequently when I was sixteen as I have done this week, for all it has helped me. There is dignity, and then there is stupidity. Occasional evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, I can tell the difference." But the corners of his mouth twitched slightly as he said that, despite his stern tone.

I gave him my best beaming smile. "Have a pleasant morning then, Severus."

He knitted his brows in what failed to convince me to be true annoyance. "Thank you, Albus – and sooner or later I shall get my hands on the hat and then I shall have a nice little chat with it about you." And with these words, he turned around and flooed back to his dungeon rooms.

I kept sitting near the fire long after he was gone, staring at the glowing embers and then at the ashes. The morning light filtering through the windows was playing on them like I remembered it dancing on the leaves on the forest floor, uncaring that it was merrily illuminating the remains of what, once, had been alive.

A/N : The sun/candle quote is Ser Loras Tyrell's, of GRRM's A Game Of Thrones. And of course Professor Xavier and Magneto were, in a way, the inspiration for Albus and Joshua.