Author's Note: The main characters of this story are Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald (who, sadly, still isn't on the character list). Aberforth also makes a brief appearance. It started out as a drabble and then it got too long, I suddenly had two different stories with different writing styles and all. I hope there's still a connection between the two chapters (and besides, where would I post the second chapter that is almost only about Gellert?)

Warning: Deathly Hallows spoilers - if that is still considered a warning.

Disclaimers: I don't own anything, I don't intend to make money with this, etc.

Suggestions and criticism are very welcome.

Part One

Albus keeps every single letter Gellert sends him. He hides them in the bottom drawer under two thick ancient runes dictionaries so that Aberforth will not discover them coincidentally. Sometimes, while waiting for new letters, he takes an old one out and rereads it, smiling to himself at Gellert's big and scrawly writing. Some sentences end halfway, words are crossed out, others are abbreviated. It is not because Gellert is an impatient person but because he thinks faster than he can write. It never ceases to amaze Albus how thoughts just seem to spill out of Gellert. One moment he is talking about a fairy tale, next moment he is making up rules for a new world order, then he suddenly throws in that he likes Albus' hair colour.

Albus has cast a permanent protection shield over the letters because he fears that Ariana might accidentally burn them in one of her fits. After losing his father and mother, he cannot even bear to think of losing something again.

Sometimes, when Gellert is so full of ideas that he cannot find the calmness to write them down, there is suddenly a whoosh and then there is Gellert, hovering on his broomstick in front of Albus' window. Albus always leaves the window open. Just in case. Besides, it is a very warm summer.

Then Albus helps Gellert inside and before Albus can even invite him to sit down, Gellert starts talking in a rushed half-whisper. Albus listens, enraptured by the net of words that Gellert is spinning around him, until he finds new connections, surreal images, but as long as Gellert is there, everything is possible. And just as suddenly as he emerges, Gellert will disappear into the night again.

But Albus still has his letters that are hidden in the bottom drawer and make everything real.

Whereas he used to fear that everything was just a dream, nowadays he wishes it would have been really nothing but a dream.

He wants to get rid of the evidence, the painful reminders of his guilt and shame and insanity but he is afraid that Aberforth might see him, might see the proof.

Albus has to wait until, several months later, Aberforth has left for a whole day to negotiate with a goatherd. Without even the shortest glance into any of the letters, Albus removes the protection shield, gathers the letters, walks down the stairs of the silent house and ignites a fire in the barely used fireplace. One by one, he throws the letters into the flames, and with each letter something inside of Albus leaves, too. It is not the guilt, no, he knows that the guilt will never leave him.

The flames dance and crackle merrily and remind him just a bit too much of Gellert. Gellert's carefreeness -- Gellert's ruthlessness, Albus corrects himself, staring into the fire until little specks of light hover in front of his eyes. With the last dying flames, the ghost of Gellert's smile dies down, too, and there are only ashes left.

Back in his room, Albus tries to read one of Bathilda's drafts on the Third Scottish Goblin Revolution. It is dull and therefore safe to read. Under the two thick ancient runes dictionaries lie now hidden several photographs of Ariana so that Albus will not unexpectedly look at them. He has not grown used yet to the sudden pain that comes every time he is faced with something that reminds him of Ariana.

There is a harsh knock on his door. Without waiting for an invitation, Aberforth opens the door. He remains standing in the threshold, however.

"What happened?" he asks. There is the slight undertone of accusation that is always in Aberforth's voice nowadays when he speaks to Albus. "It smells burnt."

Of course Aberforth will notice the smell of something burnt. He was always the one most sensitive and observant of Ariana and would notice immediately when she had had another outburst.

"The stew burnt," Albus replies curtly. "I forgot to stir it because I was reading." He lifts the paper. "Bathilda asked me to --"

"Yeah, right," Aberforth sneers. "It's fine if our house burns down as long as you and those other know-it-alls have your smart talks. What is it this time? The Seventh And A Half Goblin War In Andorra?"

Sadly, Albus has no counter arguments to that. With another derisive snort, Aberforth leaves the room and slams the door shut behind him. The draught causes a few of the parchments on Albus' desk to fly down. Albus stands up to gaze out of the window once more. Then he closes the window firmly. It is rather cold outside. Besides, the harsh and clear winter air does not smell nearly as nicely as the heavy summer night's air.