221B, Baker Street.
The house that was but a legend to almost everybody worldwide. Everybody except you and its current resident, that is.
Though you seriously doubted whether there even was such a house previously, and whether it had any residents prior to this eccentric young man… you had to find out for yourself.
Surely, he can’t be pulling me into some ridiculous hoax… you chided yourself for giving in, before tapping the note again. “Lumos.”
It was dark in this particular cubicle. Lucky for you, the Ministry wouldn’t be too happy to hear their excellent Auror was reading letters from notorious Albus godforsaken Dumbledore.
The note read,
Sunny,
Guess who this is!
Are you free enough to drop by for a visit? I would appreciate it, given the circumstances. House is charmed, they won’t know.
221b, Baker Street.
No, I am not kidding. Somewhere near Royal Albert Hall.
See you tomorrow x
“Protection from the Ministry, good,” you mumbled, fingering the letter. “Tomorrow, huh…”
You knew the “circumstances” well enough. Gellert Grindelwald, the moron who clung to your best friend since pre-teens, had disappeared. It was all over the Prophet, the man was a nuisance to the Ministry: they both were. With one gone missing, they began chasing after the other for clues and conspiracies, until he too vanished.
To the others. You’d gotten an old barn owl the morning of the news claiming he was safe and he’d contact you soon. And so, he did.
Bet he sees now who the real friend was all along, you harrumphed as you tucked the letter in your inner robes and Apparated out the Ministry. Good thing they had handed over a mission to you just an hour ago, you could leave on that excuse.
Missions can wait. Tomorrow can go to hell. Albus needed you. So there you stood before the Royal Albert Hall, hands in your pockets, staring in awe at its glamour. Images of a date from long long ago flashed across your reminiscing mind.
A bright summer… fifteen-year-old you… sixteen-year-old Albus… a soothing orchestra concert… a late night kiss near the ice cream stand outside…
An envious Gellert Obliviating and apparating him away right after…
Your smile faded as fast as it came, your head turned away from the grandiose venue. The smile grew again upon seeing the ice cream stall standing there as lively as before. Curious, it hadn’t been there before, every other night you’d come here seeking comfort… A sign from Nature, you told yourself. Today might be a good day to see him after all.
So you moved away from the crowded steps of the Hall and bought two ice cones, muttering under your breath with closed eyes, “221b, Baker Street. 221b, Baker Street.”
And there it was. You opened your eyes to a tall house down the road, not too far from the hall itself, a little board on its door reading “221b, Baker Street.” You shook your head with a laugh, delighted nobody else was seeing it somehow. You rushed up to the doorstep and waved your wand at the charm on the lock. Of course, Dumbledore’s unique protection ward unlocked itself for you.
As always.
The door creaked open, and you hurried in, mouth agape at the dust. “Honestly Al, don’t you know to look after the place you live in?”
“Sunny! Oh, darling, thank goodness you’re here,” a tired but jovial voice chirped from the stairs. You heard Dumbledore stumble down and almost fall onto you, before you twirled away.
“Nah-uh, no hugs, not with ice cream in my hands.”
“Oh my!” he exclaimed happily, picking his glimmering self up and snatching one of the cones. Glimmering, because his hair was slick from the shower, and his shirt and pants were pristine orange. Brighter than those new colourful automobiles.
“I guess you don’t need to pull the curtains for the sun anyway,” you laughed as he lapped at it oh so childishly. “You’re a walking torch yourself.”
“Right? I love this look!”
“Meh.”
“Come now, darling, it is lovely.”
“What’s with the darling-ing today?” you bit your cheek to dismiss the blush.
“I believe you like it.”
“…” Sure you did but since when did he know? He hasn’t called you darling since the night you— “Hey, Al, what’s with the place? Fake address… for fun, I know you well.”
“Mhm, you do. It seemed fun to indulge a bit.”
“…whatever. But the location?”
“Why here, you mean?” Albus waved out a greasy window to the busy lane. “Hm, memories. Don’t you like it?”
He was smiling, that all-knowing, smug smile with the twinkle in his eye. So you didn’t bother answering. Somehow… Somehow… he found out. Or rather, remembered.
But this was no time to talk about teenage first-dates. “I’m glad you called but is everything alright?”
“Better question,” Dumbledore sighed as he downed the last of the ice cone and beckoned you to the kitchen. “Why did I find you on my doorstep seconds after the owl got back?”
“I— I did not—“
“You did, I only sent the old fellow seven minutes ago.”
You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t hear from my closest friend, a crackhead Gryffindor who’s boyfriend just ran away, for two weeks, and you expect me not be worried sick? Of course I ran here immediately!”
“Right, my bad, took a while to set the place up properly.” He shook his head sadly. “Alas, I am unaware of who this so-called boyfriend is.”
“Ruddy Grindelwald is who,” you shook your head to mock him. “What happened?”
“…Well,” Albus took a deep breath. “He had enough of me. Who’d have thought our opposing views of the world would go…this far.”
“Who indeed,” you shook your head again.
“Hey,” Albus tapped your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“For not listening to you. I didn’t realise he had me controlled until he moved away and whatever bond there was…shattered.”
“Bond?” you asked, sitting beside him at the teak dinner table.
“Bond. We used the magic of Trust, and formed a contract-like bond where neither could dare betray the other, which is still there…” he sighed. “But at least the control he had over my mind is gone…”
“The rest of your mind, that is,” you scoffed.
“…yes. Anyhow, I happened to recall some things I had kept aside for later. Like that night long ago, somewhere up this very lane?”
You gasped, a tad too audibly so you cleared your throat and averted your gaze. “Uhuh? What was it?”
He sensed your avoidance and decided to play along, a smirk playing on his lips. “Well, that night, I took a beautiful person to a concert at the RA Hall. And the music was lovely, but so was my date so I might have stared more at the angel beside me than the performers. And then you dragged me off to an ice cream stand; and you know, the stand’s back in town. That old lady passed away, her son runs it now.”
“Me? H—How would I know?”
“Because I remember the face I stared at all night too well to forget by Gellert’s weak Obliviating Charm.”
“…How?”
He chuckled softly, and you looked down at the teacup that appeared before you. Of course, this was one of the most powerful wizards of his age, perhaps he had protected himself against the Obliviate back then.
Eleven years. And he didn’t spill a word… probably for your sake, should Gellert find out and attack. But eleven years of loneliness…
“We also kissed that night.” A casual statement, deceivingly blasé.
“Did we?” you gulped.
“Mhm,” he hummed over the tea.
Oh, the urge bubbling in you to say—
“We could do that again.”
After eleven years, he beat you to it. Again. “Gryffindor beats Hufflepuff,” you dramatically heaved a sigh: that made him laugh merrily, the gloom on his face disappearing.
“Gryffindor wins!” he raised his teacup. “Say, now I get to call you darling, don’t I?”
“Yes. Yes, I suppose you do,” you smiled. “Though I’d still prefer Sunny.” The nickname he coined long ago when he first met you, saying it described you perfectly.
“Of course, it’s our special thing,”he winked. “Sunny darling…” he smiled at the way you burst into laughter. “May I kiss you?”
“For the sake of old memories?”
“Quite the contrary. For the sake of new ones,” he turned to face you, one hand tucking stray hairs behind your ear, the other cupping your cheek.
You remembered how he responded back then when you asked to go out together. “An offer worth considering,” you laughed.
And so did he, before kissing you lightly. “Consider fast then, Gryffindors lack patience.”
“Clearly.” You shut your eyes, revelling in his arms wrapped around you, relishing the softness of the moment, giggling at the light stubble you felt now, that wasn’t there before.
Times change… you thought as his now sturdier arms hugged you close. Hearts don't.