The icy January wind entered with arrogance from the only window in the cell.
A window too small to allow a man to enter or exit but large enough and badly reduced to let the cold pass.
The frigid air filled the dark, damp room in a few minutes.
It surrounded the hard, empty bed but did not go past a battered blanket that protected a frail and trembling body.
By now, the man was used to that climate in which he had been imprisoned for decades.
His pale skin knew very well the sharp winter caresses.
But for some strange reason he kept shaking and not from the cold, but from habit.
His weak arms gripped that thin body tightly, he was hugging himself.
The blue eyes saw only the darkness created by the blanket, the ears did not catch any sound.
And it was precisely in those moments that the memories came back with arrogance.
They were carried by the wind to fill that silence and give color to the dark.
The black that surrounded him faded in all directions with bright, brilliant colors. The colors of summer.
In his mind the blue of that summer sky was still vivid, of those lively eyes that had captured every single detail of him.
No one had ever looked at him like that, as if he were the most beautiful thing in the world.
His ears could still hear those gleeful laughs, heart-pounding dreams, and broken promises.
In his hands she could still feel the thin and now yellowed pages of an old book.
A book that changed everything.
He well remembered that muggy July afternoon when he and Albus had secluded themselves under a tree to escape the heat.
How much he regretted that pungent sun...
They were sitting on the dry grass reading that old storybook.
The Tales of Beedle the Bard...
Fairy tales for children, perhaps... but one of those fairy tales was about the deathly hallows.
Albus held the book in his hands and read aloud.
He was so taken that he hadn't noticed that Gellert was no longer listening to him.
His gaze, his thoughts were fixed on something else. On that unruly auburn hair, on those clear eyes and on the full, red lips.
After a while Albus realized he was being watched and puzzled returned his gaze.
Gellert still remembered the surprise in Albus' eyes, the racing of his heart as their mouths joined in a kiss.
An unchaste, passionate kiss.
Their tongues caressed each other passionately, their frantic hands wandering over their now bare skin.
Longing surrounded the moment as the book lay on the grass devoid of all interest.
The prisoner was still smiling at that memory.
It was at that moment that he began his descent into the abyss but nevertheless it was his favorite memory of him, the one that saved him from the monotony of his prison.
Albus had been his doom and his salvation.
It was because of him and his broken promises that he was imprisoned there.
But the memory of him and the moments spent together was what saved him from madness.
How he wished he could relive those moments one more time to change the ending.
They had been two fools, too caught up in their goals to understand that their love was what mattered most.
When they were together Gellert didn't fully understand it.
It was the distance that brought some common sense.
By now too many years had passed and there was no way to fix it.
Albus was gone. He had left only good memories, many remorse and hope.
The man deprived himself of the blanket to be able to observe the dark and starless sky.
Albus was up there now.
A smile appeared on his thin, weathered face.
Despite the years that had passed, her heart still beat for him and so she knew that she had done Albus's to the end as well.
Gellert knew that soon he would join him and they would be together for eternity, nothing would separate them anymore.