It was a cool afternoon, the air crisp with the last vestiges of sun and the faint scent of falling leaves. Under an old cedar tree at the edge of Godric’s Hollow, two young men basked in the slowly fading daylight.
Gellert was lying down with an arm splayed across his eyes. He appeared to be sleeping, but Albus could see that his breathing was too measured for it to be the case. Rays of light filtered through the branches above, casting his hair alight like threads of gold.
Albus idly combed his fingers through the blades of grass at his sides.
Downhill, people moved in perpetual motion. Albus tried to ignore how both he and Gellert were the only ones in place; how neither of them were joining the procession home, or how they both had nobody coming home to them.
There was something about the air, about summer turning into fall, that made him feel like there was a pit in his stomach. It was as if something big and unknown was lurking in the horizon, just waiting to catch everyone unawares. The ominous feeling hung heavier today, and Albus didn't know if it was due to fear or excitement.
"Summer is ending soon," he murmured.
For the first time in what seemed like hours, Gellert stirred. Albus could feel his gaze boring against the side of his face, but he pretended not to notice (just as he did most things concerning Gellert).
"I'll miss the sun," continued Albus. He closed his eyes and imagined the warm sunrays burning his insides, burning his mind.
"I wouldn't," Gellert returned, naturally contrary. "You know I never liked summer."
Albus quirked one corner of his mouth. "Yet another reason we're so different."
"One of hundreds."
"Thousands."
Gellert half sat up and leaned on his elbows. "Tens of thousands.”
Albus chuckled. "Always the last word with you."
"Well, I am ambitious," Gelert shrugged. Unlike you.It was unspoken, but loud nevertheless.
Gellert looked at Albus challengingly, brow raised. He always did that; always on edge, itching for a fight. One that would never come, at least not from Albus.
Albus just smiled. "Enough ambition for the rest of Europe, I'd say.”
Gellert rolled on his stomach and placed his chin on his hand. He stared up at Albus. "While you don't even have enough to fill this dull town."
Albus’ smile felt hollow. "You speak as if lack of ambition is bad.”
“It is,” Gellert said with conviction, the stubborn tilt of his chin rivaling the great statues of old. He cut a fierce figure, even lying down on the grass.
“There's no harm in being content,” Albus mildly said while pulling strands of grass at his sides.
“Are you?” Gellert scoffed. “Content?”
Albus just continued to smile. He asked himself that everyday and he still didn’t have an answer.
Gellert shook his head. “I hate you,” he said offhandedly, like he was commenting on the weather.
Albus froze. His heart thudded in his ears. "I know,” he said thinly.
“I hate how calm you are.”
Albus wanted to laugh. If only Gellert could hear his pounding heart. “Is that all?”
Gellert raised his chin. "I hate your potential and how you have no desire to nurture it.”
Albus crinkled his eyes. Gellert started to look incensed, like Albus’ calm facade was an insult to look at. He continued, floodgates opened.
“I have no idea what to do with you, and I hate it,” Gellert gritted out. “I don't want you to wither here in this inconsequential town, but neither do I want you flourishing into something I cannot control.”
The air felt electric, like lightning was waiting to strike. Gellert’s shoulders shook.
"I detest you so much, I sometimes feel the urge to grab you by the hair, and smash your head against the rocks until I feel something crack. I want to feel your flesh scrape against the jagged surface, see your blood in streaks like red paint smeared on paper with a dry brush. Do you understand how much I hate you?”
Albus swallowed. His arms prickled in a shiver, but his cheeks felt warm. He understood completely, for he hated himself too.
"What's stopping you from doing that, then?" Albus asked, voice steady, masking the wild beating of his heart.
Just as fast as it had come, the harsh darkness in Gellert’s face melted away.
"That's a question I ask myself frequently,” he murmured, like he was imparting a great secret. “Maybe it's because no matter how much I abhor you… I also find in you someone I could share my achievements with.”
Gellert leaned towards Albus, hand outstretched. He lightly brushed Albus’ temple, and Albus was sure Gellert could feel the thudding of his pulse. “I adore your mind, how you could understand the meaning behind my words before I could even finish my sentences.”
He brushed an unruly lock of red hair behind Albus’ ear. His fingers were feather-light on Albus’ cheek. Neither of them moved while the entirety of Godric’s Hollow lost itself in perpetual motion.
“I am harsh winds and falling leaves,” Gellert recited with no hesitation, like this was a poem he had written and performed before. “You are sunlight and warmth and comfort. You temper me, just as I steel you.”
Albus wanted to vanish. He clutched tighter at the grass at his sides, afraid of what he'd reach for if he freed his hands. He wanted to collapse.
But he wouldn’t be Albus without his calm, so he pretended to be the sunlight Gellert saw him as. With enough pretending, maybe he can fool himself too.
“Promise me, Albus,” Gellert was first to break the deafening silence. “Promise me you'll balance my scales. Then I'll promise to do the same for you.”
Albus let go of the ruined grass, and clutched Gellert’s hand against his face. The sharp scent of dirt and grass, the scent of fading summer, clung in the air. Albus wished they never had to move.
“Gellert,” he breathed out. “We can't forever be each other's keeper. Summer is ending.”
I’ll miss summer. I’ll miss you. We’re parting ways, but I’ll always remember summer as you.
“Why should that matter?” Gellert moved closer and leaned his forehead against Albus’. “You can come with me.”
“You know I can’t,” Albus breathed out, pained. “I have my own future.”
“What, teaching?” Gellert pulled away. Albus’ hand clutched at thin air. “You really want to wither away in academia when you could be so much greater?”
“Not everyone wants to be great, Gellert.” Albus’ tone was near pleading now. “And you don’t have to leave. You can stay here.” With me.
“What, and wait patiently for you every summer, like some little dog waiting for its master?” Gellert laughed mirthlessly. “You ask for too many things and don't give enough.”
“Gellert…”
“You have your path and I have mine. Fine. I understand.”
Albus wanted to say a lot of things, but the words deserted him. Gellert looked like he finally got an answer he was waiting for, but not the one he’d hoped to receive.
“At least promise me one thing,” Gellert muttered, resigned. “Promise me you won’t stand in my way. No matter what.”
“I won’t interfere with your affairs,” Albus promised. “As long as you don't interfere with mine.”
Gellert seems disappointed. The light was fading, and the moon was rising. Summer was ending, and it was time to go home.
"That's good enough for me."
It was good enough for decades, until one day it wasn’t.