A/N: I mean, I know the few of you who read the first installment weren't exactly impressed, but this writes itself, and now that it's written I might as well post it. Happy Valentine's!

I'm going to be the change I want in the world! And write a whole lot of this crap just because I enjoy the hell out of it! ...maybe.

Technical stuff: this will work like a series. I will keep it marked as 'completed', and whenever I feel like it I might add a chapter. I've got a bunch of ideas already, but feel free to suggest a canon situation you'd like to see enriched by Gellert's glossing.

On the off chance that you actually, you know, read this.

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August 1991

x

'The half-giant.' Gellert considered Hagrid's departing form from behind Albus' eyes. 'Of all the people at your disposal, you send – that.'

Albus popped a sherbet lemon into his mouth, hoping to wash away the phantom taste of casual racism.

There was much a man like Hagrid had to offer. He was kind. He had a way with animals, and also with a certain kind of children. His simplicity was far from vexing; it was relaxing in its own way.

Gellert – unsurprisingly – did not agree with Albus' choice of Harry's guide to the wizarding world. 'No need to be defensive, my dear. I understand the appeal of followers who gladly let me do their thinking for them. I merely question the wisdom of relying on the incompetence of someone so determined to please you.'

He might have had a point, if Albus had not known Hagrid for fifty years. Albus could predict him down to the specific slip of a tongue. He wanted to seed information while maintaining the notion that said information was secret?

He confided in Hagrid.

It was as close to foolproof as anything involving people could be.

Gellert laughed. 'I have always excelled at conversion, but you, my dear, are a master of indoctrination.'

That was rather an extreme word for the few soft nudges Albus was giving Harry. Albus would prefer to have Harry in any House but Slytherin. Not out of any sense of House pride, or because he doubted Severus' ability to toe the line in between an educator and a spy – although, admittedly, having Harry under his direct influence would put Severus into a nigh-on untenable position once Tom reappeared.

'I want Harry to have friends.'

'Friends.' Gellert chuckled. Then he laughed. 'Friends!'

'I realise you do not believe in the concept, but-'

'Do cunning and ambitious people not make good friends, Albus?' Gellert inquired, still chuckling.

Albus steepled his fingers. 'I imagine not, although I have no personal experience in the field. Why, Gellert – have you had many friends over the course of your life?'

'A multitude.'

'Freunde,' Albus translated. It meant something different. It meant something different to them.

When Albus spoke of friendship, he envisioned mutual loyalty, support and affection. When he spoke of Freundschaft (a word he could never quite cleanse of Gellert's mocking inflection), the loyalty, support and affection were only true on one side, whereas the other side was putting in just enough effort to make the farce seem believable.

'You know I do not believe that the children in Slytherin in any way differ from the children in other Houses. It is these particular children-' Specifically Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, regarding whose Sorting Albus had minimal doubts. '-and their parents who worry me.'

Albus could just imagine the chain of events if Harry befriended young Mr Malfoy. An invitation to spend time at the Malfoys' over the course of the winter holidays, which of course Harry would have no reason to reject – the atmosphere at the Dursleys' being what it was – and by New Years the Boy Who Lived would be nowhere to find, and Lucius would be donating an eyebrow-raising amount of money to the (very pointless) search and rescue operations.

Tom's sympathisers had children in all four Houses, of course. Albus had to maneuver Harry toward peers whose friendship would not see him dead within the year.

'Keeping him alive constitutes a risk to the entire society – and yet you persist, out of sentiment.'

Albus took that to mean that Gellert could find no errors in his logic, and was thus forced to repeat his previous criticisms of Albus' choices.

That was quite satisfying.