The Greater Good: Dumbledore and Grindelwald

Reconciliation

Two weeks later...

The tension between Albus and Gellert that had surfaced at the Ministry didn't go away overnight. And it was a full two weeks before Albus visited Gellert so that the two of them could go over the scrolls that they'd liberated from the Department of Mysteries. 

This time, however, it wasn't Gellert that answered the front door, it was his aunt. 

"Miss Bagshot," Albus said with a little bow. 

"Albus!" Bathilda said pleasantly. "This is a surprise, to be sure, but a welcome one!"

"I live to please, Miss Bagshot," Albus said gallantly. 

"Of course you do," Bathilda said warmly. "Come in, please, come in."

Albus stepped over the threshold into the house. It looked a good deal warmer and more inviting than the last time he had been there, although last time he'd been there, the place had been shrouded in artificial darkness, and swamped by the icy vibe that clung to Gellert Grindelwald like a shadow. 

Albus immediately chastised himself for the thought. Gellert was certainly a curious young man. More than that, he was intelligent, and the fire of passion burned bright beneath his cool exterior. Albus saw a lot of similarities between himself and Gellert, and he couldn't help but be drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. But Albus knew how crucial it was that he exercise caution. Gellert showed a lack of interest in keeping himself in check. Not two weeks ago, Gellert had committed murder. 

Albus could scarcely wrap his head around it, even now. 

"Albus?" Bathilda was saying.

Albus was brought abruptly back to the here and now, and realized that Bathilda was speaking to him. "Pardon me, Miss Bagshot?"

"I was asking if you'd like some tea?" Bathilda had her bony fingers clasped around Albus' arm and was now perp-walking him into the lounge. 

"That would be most welcome," Albus said courteously. "Your nephew wouldn't be around, perchance?" he asked casually, as he settled himself into a comfy armchair. 

"Oh, you know Gellert," Bathilda said airily. With a wave of her wand, the teapot on the small table in the middle of the lounge began to pour generous measures of hot tea into teacups. "He'd work himself to death if he could. He spends most of his time shut up in his bedroom, as you can imagine. The boy seldom sees the sun. And he's my great-nephew, Albus. I'm an old woman now," Bathilda chuckled. 

Albus could tell when someone was fishing for a compliment, and he didn't disappoint. "Nonsense," he said imperiously. "You and I could pass for siblings, Miss Bagshot."

Bathilda's face lit up with delight at this, and Albus could have sworn that some of the wrinkles in her skin vanished. "Oh, you're too kind, Albus. Do you take sugar?"

"No thank you, Miss Bagshot," Albus shook his head. "I'm sweet enough."

He reached out for the cup and took a deep sip. The tea was strong and hot, just how he liked it. He placed it back into its saucer. 

"Gellert has been expecting you for some time now," Bathilda put in. 

Albus was surprised at this. "He has?"

"Oh, yes," Bathilda nodded. "He hasn't told me in so many words, but I know my great-nephew. He checks the mail everyday, he pops his head down whenever we have visitors. He doesn't have any friends other than you, Albus, he's...withdrawn."