1946
Nurmengard, 2nd of January 1946
Dear Albus my prickly friend,
So you ask me to stop writing to you, and yet you admit to having read my letters. I knew you would. I knew you could not resist. And I also know that you will continue to do so and that you would be devastated if I stopped.
How? Because I know why you read and secretly treasure them and how it makes you feel. You enjoy wading in this blend of self-pity and self-loathing, don’t you? It is this tendency of yours to do exactly what causes you pain. You always had it, I remember, but it was not so prominent when we were boys. I think I liked you better then, when you still had this mischief in you.
I know what you yourself think: You think torturing yourself is the way to atonement. It isn’t, Albus.
I wish I could say that I hoped you would forgive yourself one day, but my hopes are not high. You will bear your guilt until you die, I am afraid.
But I think, Albus, that you will admit to yourself eventually that you also crave this correspondence with me because you are lonely, and because you still pine after me.
Yours
Gellert
***
Nurmengard, 20th of January 1946
Dear Albus,
Please accept my apologies for my previous letter. It was in poor taste, and I am aware of that.
On a lighter note: do you have any plans for the new year? I read in the Daily Prophet that you have been honoured for finding four more uses of dragon blood. Congratulations, I guess. Are you planning on doing more research on that?
A bit of an obscure branch of magic in my opinion, but why not. You will understand, however, that reading your list of the eight uses made me pause…
Didn’t we find out together that dragon blood is a rather powerful aphrodisiac, Albus? How can that have slipped your mind?
Don’t tell me you are too prudish to publish such a finding. You could have lied, you know, regarding the details of the study design. Who would ever know? Did you fear that I would go public and demand to share credit?
A truly entertaining thought. Imagine the letter to the editor:
“Dear Sir,
this is in response to the article ‘four more uses of dragon blood’ by Professor Albus Dumbledore as published in your last issue of ‘Potenty Potions’. I must hereby inform the general public that Mr Dumbledore is a fraud who has committed theft of intellectual property regarding the seventh use of dragon blood. In truth it was I, Gellert Grindelwald, who prompted him to take the dragon blood before sucking my cock, and thus proved its stimulating effect.
Sincerely, G. Grindelwald”
Sweet Merlin, I see it in front of me. Such a laugh. Would they print it, Albus? What do you think? You are such a slowcoach, robbing me of this small pleasure. I cannot believe you omitted this wondrous finding and replaced it by an application as ‘oven cleaner’.
Seriously — oven cleaner?
The magical scientific community clearly has a blind spot when it comes to you if they accept this as a legitimate magical use. Upon closer thought, I do suspect you of including the oven cleaner as a test to see how far you can go. Is that the spark of mischief that I missed in you during the last times we met? Or should I really picture you with a cleaning rag and a bottle of dragon blood, randomly scrubbing the items in your study, smearing blood over your sneakoscope and your cauldrons, until you tried it on your fireplace?
Your amused friend
Gellert
***
Nurmengard, 12th of February 1946
Be honest, Albus - Did I make you blush?
Admit that you still think of it sometimes. I surely do.
Gellert
***
Nurmengard, 20th of March 1946
Dear Albus,
Assuming that you have politely enquired after my plans for the rest of this year — of course, I am happy to share!
I started working on Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration, a topic that has always interested me, yet somehow I never got around to applying myself to it. I must thank you, dear friend, that I can now devote as much time to my research as I want.
Won’t you agree that the exemptions of Gamp’s Law are very poorly defined? I highly doubt they would hold against well developed argument.
Would you like to hear my thoughts? I would be delighted if you could carry out the practical experiments, Albus. If it ever comes to a publication, you are very welcome to take full credit.
Your friend
Gellert
***
Hogwarts, 27th of March 1946
Gellert,
I would have thought I had made myself clear, but you do not seem to understand: I have no intention of corresponding with you, and I assure you that any further attempts on your part will be in vain. I charmed my inbox tray this morning to recognise your hand. Any further letters from you will ignite as soon as they touch it.
Albus
***
It was quiet in the headmaster’s office, a full moon slanting through the high window. The gyroscope whirred softly. All portraits slept but one.
Snape’s gaze trailed from the letter in his hand to the remaining letters on the desk labelled ‘1946’, towards the stacks of ‘1947’ and ‘1948’ beside it, still neatly bundled with a black ribbon.
Snape stood up from where he was perched on the edge of the oak desk and threw the letter casually onto the pile. Then, he walked around the desk, settled into the straight-backed visitor’s chair and regarded the portrait of his former headmaster with his black eyes.The corners of his mouth were twitching.
The old wizard returned his gaze with slightly raised eyebrows.
“This is not the last letter,” Snape observed.
“No.”
“You did not burn them, then?”
The silver beard twitched and the blue eyes twinkled. “No.”
"I see."
Snape leaned forward, carefully folded the parchment and slipped it into its envelope. “I see,” he repeated softly.
Smiling now he reached out for the next letter on the pile. Before he unfolded it, however, he looked up at the portrait again.
“Dumbledore…,” he began, “Forgive me, but how… explicit is this going to get?”
The wizard in the portrait kept a stoic expression. “You are a grown man, Severus.”
Snape pinched his mouth. “That is not the point. It is merely that there are certain details I would rather not… I would find inappropriate to…”
Dumbledore regarded his younger colleague with a mild expression and half-raised eyebrows before he took pity on him and said, “Not too explicit, Severus, rest assured. He only used such crude language to provoke me."
For a moment, Snape looked as if he had taken a healthy swig of Gurdyroot infusion. Then, he nodded curtly and unfolded the letter.
“He seems to be …” It took him a full minute to find a suitable description “… a nasty piece of work.”
Dumbledore chuckled merrily. "Sherbet lemon?” he suggested.
Snape did not look up. “Thank you, but no.”
He bent over the parchment and read.
***
Nurmengard, 16th of April 1946
Dear Albus,
I am glad to hear that you are taking care of yourself. I keep my sanity by writing to you, you keep yours by burning my letters. That sounds appropriate.
In a strange way, it even feels liberating to know that you will not be reading them. No more pondering your reactions, no more holding back, just my stream of consciousness.
I will keep sending them, though. It annoys Antonovich - my personal guard - so much that he is required to send them. He feels I should not be allowed any correspondence, you see? But it is my right and he cannot deny it to me however much he would like to. This is not Azkaban, after all.
And it doesn’t hurt you to find the occasional pile of ashes next to your Daily Prophet. Who knows? Maybe, you will get curious one day.
I hope the weather in Scotland is equally pleasant as it is here in the Austrian Alps. I hope you enjoy the spring.
Your friend
Gellert
***
Nurmengard, 18th of May 1946
Dear Albus,
Knowing you, I assume you are following events on the mainland.
As far as I am aware, the situation — the destruction, the famine, the economic breakdown — is unprecedented. The Muggles are dying like flies, Albus. Like flies.
I believed that death would cease when the war ended, but it has not. It is estimated that more than one in ten newborn babies will die of starvation in this country. One in ten. Are you accusing me of hypocrisy? Do you think that I secretly rejoice in their plight?
I don’t. It affects me, it pains me more than I care to admit.
I foretold this war and its consequences. Not to the letter, but in essence. I saw. I saw, I was willing to act, and I was punished for it.
Truly, Albus, can you in your heart of hearts doubt the simple truth that Muggles are incapable of governing themselves? Could you look me in the eye and tell me that?
They are like sheep, Albus. No, worse. Sheep would not harm each other. They are like giants — they simply cannot help themselves. Now the war is over but they are still helpless to govern themselves. Even when they mean well, as the leaders of Austria do at present, they cannot prevent disaster, which is the worst of it. Even with their best intentions, Albus.
Face it: None of this need have happened.
You can debate my methods, you can debate the timing, but you cannot debate my cause, Albus, you simply cannot.
Gellert
***
Nurmengard, 19th of August
Dear Albus,
I wanted to let you know that I am making very good progress with my work on Gamp’s Law.
How about you? Any recent cleaning successes I should know about? Or did you find other groundbreaking applications? Dragonblood might be used as a toothpaste that mitigates gum infection.
What a pity it is that you merely have three weeks before the start of term when you will have to go back to marking essays on how to turn matches into needles, while I will keep exploring the deepest riddles and mysteries of magic.
If you ever require a free evening to devote to something serious and need my assistance, let me know. You can send me a stack of first-years’ homework any time. Your birthday is approaching, if I recall correctly. Maybe that would be a suitable gift?
Your friend
Gellert
***
Hogwarts, 27th of August 1946
Since you simply refuse to stop pestering me about it otherwise, I shall tell you that your research is futile, Gellert.
Miranda Goshawk published her doctoral thesis in elemental transfiguration on the exemptions of Gamp’s Law in November last year. In my personal opinion, she has resolved the issue satisfactorily, especially regarding the first of the five exemptions.
Assuming that you do not have access to scientific literature, please find a copy attached.
Albus
P.S. Do you have any idea how much I have been ridiculed for that finding on the use of dragon blood as an oven cleaner?
From you, I expected more sense, Gellert.
You should understand that this finding is by no means random and that I did not first try to clean my desk and window sills with it. Obviously, I applied it to ward off fire-dwelling salamanders. I assumed, correctly, that they would be repelled by the smell of fiercer lizard species, and I thus found the (to my knowledge) only reliable method to avoid their infamous excretions ruining my soapstone fireplace.
***
Nurmengard, 12th of September 1946
Dear Albus,
So. You did not burn my letters after all? I’m not going to goad you by saying that I knew you wouldn’t, but… I knew you wouldn’t.
I am much obliged, Albus, really, for your consideration. I was surprised and touched by your kindness to send me Miranda’s thesis. Please do not worry on my account. I do have access and I certainly have read it.
The conditions of my confinement are indeed rather favourable for someone of my character:
I am allowed access to national and international newspapers as well as scientific literature (except from works on the dark arts for some reason). Also, as you may have observed, I am allowed to entertain written correspondence. All letters — in and out — are scrupulously checked of course to make sure I do not write anything ‘dangerous’. I am forbidden contact with the other inmates or humans in general, not counting Antonovich, who holds a very personal grudge against me. The only thing that pains me is that I am forbidden anything magical. Pointless, don’t you think? I am not even allowed a blanket with a warming charm — and winters here are extremely chilly, I can assure you — nor essence of dittany for my bad leg nor even colour-changing ink.
Back to the point. Miranda’s thesis was my starting point, actually. Though I admire her work, I think it leaves many open questions, especially regarding the fourth exemption of Gamp’s Law. Please find a summary of the work I did during the last months attached.
Your friend
Gellert
***
Nurmengard, 15th of November 1946
Dear Albus,
More than a million people dead from starvation and the winter hasn’t even begun.
You still owe me an answer.
Yours
Gellert