If you asked him, Albus Dumbledore wouldn’t have been able to say what he was expecting. Or wanting. It was reckless, and he came with no plan, no specific motivation except what—love? Desperation? Loneliness?
All he knew was that once he looked in the mirror, all he wanted was to see the man himself. So here he stood, waiting at the top of the Eiffel Tower.
The telltale sound of someone apparating shook the silence. Albus inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. His hands clenched into fists in pockets of his woolen trenchcoat. This was worse than the mirror, delaying the inevitable as long as he could.
“Are you not going to look at me, Albus? Did you risk your life just to stand in silence?” Gellert Grindelwald spoke quietly and earnestly. The man never knew how to speak without emotion.
Albus chuckled, turning and taking two steps towards him. “Hello, Gellert. Took you exactly two minutes longer than I expected.”
Easy, teasing, comfortable.
He scoffed and rolled his eyes, heels of his boots clicking as he also took two steps forward. “What are you doing here, Albus?”
There was that question that he didn’t know the answer to.
“I don’t know,” he replied with a lopsided smile and a little shake of his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing here other than trying to satiate the hurricane in my head and burning in my hand that happens every time I hear your name.”
Gellert’s mismatched eyes studied him with the same intensity they always did. That same searing gaze that unwound Albus like an old ball of yarn. He could see through it all. He had always been good at that.
“I’m doing this for you. For us. For our kind. Don’t you want to be able to love freely and openly? Aren’t you tired of constantly looking over your shoulder? Tired of preparing an excuse or story or reason you act the way you do around me? Do you remember the lengths we had to go to in order to keep our secret?” He walked ever closer as he talked, heels hollow against the floor.
Albus had dropped his eyes again, looking up only when Gellert was just a few inches away.
“We’re in Paris. They’re far more accepting of us here,” he replied. It was a deflection, they both knew that.
Albus’s hands shook as Gellert cradled his neck between his hands. He met those mismatched eyes with his own.
“I am sorry for what happened to Ariana. I loved her, you know that. I mourned for her. Not a day goes by that I don’t think of her, of Godric’s Hollow, of Aberforth, of the family the four of us could have had.” He paused, seeing the reluctant warmth on Dumbledore’s face. “Join me, Albus, please. We can start again from where we left off. We can bring her back, shield all of us from death and pain and we can be together forever. Our little family.”
Albus was shaking his head before he finished. He pushed himself back a step but couldn’t bring himself to do anything more. “You know I can’t. I can’t condone what you’re doing, what you’ve done! It’s too much death, too much anger and hate against hate!”
“Don’t mistake my followers’ actions for mine. I only long for a free world. No more secrets, no more hiding in the shadows. No more hiding our power or our affections because others can’t understand or tolerate it! You can’t tell me you don’t want that too. You cannot.”
And he couldn’t. He looked away. The view was beautiful from up here. So many lights, so many lives. How many of them had to keep to dark corners because of who they loved or who they were?
“We could run away,” Albus said finally, quietly. “Find the other two Hallows and run to the countryside. Austria, if you wanted. Maybe Scotland.”
It was wistful and a dream that could never come true, but there it was in the open. It was his move, whether to accept or decline.
“Albus,” Gellert murmured, closing the distance again. “Look at me. Albus.”
He obeyed, shivering as he let Gellert touch him again, his hands going to his sides this time. He wanted more, ever more. He rested a hand on Gellert’s chest, feeling his heart beat against his palm.
“Once our people are free, we will. I swear to you we will. But not before our people can also enjoy that same freedom. We can go wherever you want, escape death and expand our powers even more. We could write books, journals, papers of our discoveries to pass down. But I can’t leave until this job is done.”
Albus exhaled shakily, nodding. It was the answer he expected. “I love you,” he said before he could think better of himself. “After everything, through all of this,” he gestured broadly, “I love you.”
Gellert smiled, eyes twinkling, and suddenly they were teenagers again. Teenagers spending their days reading in the sun and rolling in the grass, tangled up in one another.
“You’ve been my home since the day we met. The harbor my heart finds safety in. I can’t watch you walk away again. Please, Albus. I don’t want to lose you again.”
Albus sank against his chest, face buried in the crook of his neck. He was all too aware of Gellert’s heat against him. He had always been a walking heater, and Albus always chilled. He squeezed his eyes shut, one hand tangling in Gellert’s hair, soft as silk. He wanted to pull at it, hear him moan, mark his neck, make him his own again. Merlin, the thought nearly consumed him.
Gellert must’ve sensed it. His hands traveled up to Albus’s neck, cradling it once more. He raised Albus’s head, kissing him softly. There was a desperation there despite the warmth, a sorrow and a hunger.
Albus exhaled past his lips, hand twisting in his hair. His other fisted in the fabric of his jacket.
He turned his head, kissing the scar on Gellert’s palm. He met his eyes again, hand still in his hair.
“So. I’ll ask you again, my love,” the words hung heavily in the air between them, “what are you doing here?”
Albus opened and closed his mouth, still not having an answer. “I can’t go with you.” The words physically pained him, and they wrenched themselves from him in a whisper. “I can’t stand with you. Not until the death stops.”
Gellert nodded, thumbs stroking his cheeks. “If you ever change your mind, you have a place at my side.”
Albus leaned in, kissing him deeply. “The same goes for you,” he whispered.
Then he was gone, reappearing in his office, leaned over his desk. He sobbed loudly and freely and violently.