Brother-in-Law

One thing that Queenie Goldstein had trouble adapting to since coming to live in Nurmengard was overhearing the torture. She knew why it had to happen and could block it out usually, but if her concentration broke even for a moment, she could overhear the prisoner’s pain, their sorrow.

This tended to happen more often in the late hours of night or the early hours of morning. The hours she was asleep tended to be filled with nightmares- though, some of them did come from her own guilty conscious.

Queenie tended to not ask questions when it came to torture of the prisoners, and neither Vinda nor Gellert ever brought it up. They could see where that line was drawn, so to speak.

This time, however, when she woke in the early hours of morning, the prisoner’s pain she felt was not tinged with sorrow. Instead, she felt anger. An anger that she felt could burn down the world itself.

Curious in her still slightly sleep-dazed mind, she dug deeper to find the man’s name.

Aberforth Dumbledore.

Despite being still new to Nurmengard, Queenie was well aware of Gellert’s opinion on Albus Dumbledore. He was dangerous and not to disturbed. So, who was Aberforth Dumbledore?

Expanding her field of reach, she found most of the other acolytes asleep. Credence as well was deeply asleep- thus far her only argument with Gellert had concerned Credence. She knew if he was introduced to the torture so early would be detrimental to his loyalty to Gellert. In the end the Dark Lord did agree with her.

Speaking of, Gellert was asleep as well.

Nudging gently at the German’s mind, she stayed firmly outside the man’s thoughts. It was like knocking on the front door and staying out on the porch. The front door opening was the equivalent of Gellert acknowledging her. Still groggy himself with sleep

Queenie? What is it?

Sorry to bother you- a Mr. Aberforth Dumbledore is being harmed in the cells. I wasn’t sure if this was okay?

The sort of slow haziness of Gellert’s mind vanished immediately- replaced by panic and anger.

While feeling as though she had done the right thing, Queenie couldn’t help but pity the men Gellert was going to go see.

-

Aberforth Dumbledore was having quite a shitty day. It started off fine, his goats were doing fine- even the newest kit seemed to be doing much better. He had a few customers to his pub and went the entire day without having to hear anyone sing his goddamn brother’s graces.

The only unfortunate thing about Hogsmeade was its proximity to Hogwarts.

He was getting close to closing up for the night when a group came in, already a bit drunk and loose with their coin. While he weighed the pros and cons of serving the group- they started talking very loudly amongst themselves.

“Didya hear ‘bout Paris? ‘eard he was there- killed a bunch of them shit-aurors.”

Aberforth felt his heart drop into his stomach. Newt Scamander had been by the other day to talk to him about mooncalves but did mention a bit of what had happened in Paris. Including the death of the other Scamander’s fiancé.

They’d drunk a shot of firewhisky in her honor- the face Newt made at the alcohol had been hilarious.

These men, however, continued to spew their love and respect for Grindelwald for a moment more before Aberforth slammed the glass he’d been polishing against the bar.

“Get out,” The redhead growled- his hand already on his wand and pointed at them.

When his brother used to say his anger would be his own downfall, Aberforth never took him seriously. Turns out, Albus was right and taking on several mid-tier Grindelwald followers was too much of an order for him.

And, even worse, they decided to drag Aberforth out of his pub- spelling the damn Deathly Hallows to hover over the place. In his pain-riddled mind, the last thing Aberforth thought was he hoped Albus didn’t see this. If he was the reason those two met up again, he’d jump off the Astronomy Tower.

-

Only the most trusted of Gellert’s followers knew the truth of Albus Dumbledore. The truth being that Albus Dumbledore was not their enemy- he was Gellert’s husband, after all. The reason his followers were told Albus was their greatest enemy was to discourage any of them to attack Albus. If they feared him enough then they wouldn’t test him. At least, that was the plan and it worked well enough.

He thought this was to discourage either Dumbledore from being disturbed by his followers. Albus was his husband, and as much as Aberforth annoyed Gellert- he’d rather eat his own lederhosen then be the cause of another Dumbledore’s death.

Apparently, he should have been more specific to avoid both Dumbledore’s.

As he moved downwards into the cells, Gellert thought for a moment of Aurelius. It wasn’t time yet for the boy to meet his uncle.

Especially not if Aberforth was already agitated.

Placed in one of the first cells, Gellert found his brother-in-law levitating above the ground as three of his followers threw lightning curses and a handful of crucios at him.

Before another could be cast, Gellert wandlessly moved the followers into the walls. Slamming them into the cold stone- knocking them unconscious. For now, that would be good enough- he would punish them later.

As they fell back, he caught Aberforth before the man could fall, too.

Gently laying the younger man down, the German began casting a handful of various healing spells. It seemed most of the damage was external, bruises, cuts and the like. The lightning curses hopefully wouldn’t have long lasting effects.

All the while, Aberforth glared up at him.

“What are the chances you won’t tell your brother about this?”

“Won’t have to, your fanatics put up that symbol of yours over my pub.”

Gellert’s hands stilled for a moment in their work.

“Sheisse,” the German cursed.

Aberforth let out a pained chuckle.

“Your fanatics ain’t so bright, huh?

“Apparently not,” the Dark Lord replied, helping Aberforth up.

“ ‘fraid Albus will come and yell at you?” Pulling the redhead’s arm over his shoulder, Gellert led him outward and up the steps to the more civilized floors.

Before Gellert could answer, a thundering boom echoed throughout the castle- the sound of front doors being slammed open. A burst of wind stirring up dust and waking everyone inside.

A voice flew through the halls- no doubt magically increased in order to cover the entire area of the castle.

“Gellert Grindelwald, give my brother back to me now!”

Aberforth and Gellert shared a glance, Aberforth noting some degree of fear in the German to his delight.

“I’m no fan o’ yours or Albus but you’re fucked, mate.”

He definitely was.