Married Grindeldore

The Storm

The storm went on.

He could not think. The torture was unbearable. Words scattered from his mouth, mostly calling for Gellert, occasionally threatening Tom Riddle, and sometimes random DADA spells.

All he could think of was darkness, humidity, England in September, and... mold. It was not merely the mold of walls, but also the atmosphere, the revolting smell and feeling of snakes crawling around the chair, the hissing of these abhorrent creatures, and the water dripping from the ceiling. How ironic, Albus thought, how Salazar Slytherin didn't even invest that much in the very own basement he built for his heirs. 

"Why, professor, are you upset?" Said the dark wizard in a mocking, condescending tone. "You thought he'd come, didn't you? Turns out love is just a buzzword, made up by deluded minds like you to create excuses for their selfish, impulsive, and manipulative partners. Human nature, after all."

Dumbledore was too tired to speak. While he was denying the words, he felt slightly anxious. It has been a very long while. He could not count the days, only registering his faints and nightmares, followed by prolonged torture, and back into the circle again. What in the name of Merlin was Gellert doing? At last, he managed to get the words out.

"You would never understand... Your mere birth was built on lies and manipulation."

Tom froze. "You do not talk about my past like that," he gritted his teeth. "Mud-blood," he added.

"Aren't you one though?" Albus scoffed.

"And that is the worst problem you Gryffindors have. Overly impulsive, block-headed, and..." he couldn't continue anymore. So he brought out his wand again.

Where is Gellert? Albus thought desperately before the torment began.

----

He was on the Muggle Train. Ironically, Salazar's basement built for his heirs was hidden in a place that was exclusively reachable by Muggle transportation. Very Salazar indeed. Who would have thought that a wizard supremacist would hide his property in such a contradicting way? Who would have thought to even use Muggle transportation, not to mention know how to use it?

Gellert didn't know how to use it. Minerva taught him. Though, she wasn't good at it herself.

They were wearing very... unusual clothes, even though they were Muggle clothes. Everyone stared at the blonde, tall man with heterochromia and an exquisite jawline. As for the woman, she was very tall as well, strict but with her own charisma that made the men in the train giggle.

 After what felt like an eternity for the wizard and witch, the train stopped at the terminus. They exited the train with a sigh, hurrying past the admirers. Muggles are so narrow-minded, Gellert thought. They get distracted by pure appearance. Albus would not have liked it, he also noted.

Just then, his chest pocket started pulsing again. It was Albus. Unmistakably, his Albus. The memories of their fingers intertwining and their chests pounding flushed his mind. It was dark again, the cave, 1898, summer, Godric's Hollow, spells and fascinations... it was too much. He gasped for air as he fell on his knees, trying to regain consciousness.

"Are you alright?" Minerva asked with concerned but stern eyes.

"I am... It seems that the more intense is Albus's pain, the more intensely the memories come by," He replied tiredly. "Hurry, we must hurry." Gellert added.

And so they did, as the train left the station once more, and the tears of Albus dropped to the floor.