Summer 1899 // Grindledore

Words are Futile Devices

They hadn't spoken in three days. Albus, for the most part, did not yell. It just wasn't in his nature. He was too kindhearted. Anger spreads like a forest fire and causes just as much damage, he always thought. But when Gellert verbally doubted his magical talents, all that pent up anger towards life came out. Gellert learned to never to doubt him again, and that's why he was standing outside the Dumbledore residence, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

He quickly knocked on the door three times and waited. He stood for three minutes or so until someone answered the door: Albus. He looked sad. His eyes were red and puffy. His lips were moist and all Gellert wanted to do was kiss them.

"What do you want?"

"I'm sorry for doubting you," Gellert replied.

"You are an arsehole sometimes, you know that?"

"I'm well aware."

Albus laughed dryly. "You hurt me when you said my  own spell was child's play."

"I truly am sorry, my dear Albus, but we both know that spell won't save your sister. We need something stronger."

"I know," Albus wiped his eyes. "But it doesn't hurt to try, does it?"

Gellert smiled. "No."

Sighing, Albus spoke again. "Come here, I cant stay mad at you," he said embracing his lover.

Gellert fell into the hug, taking in the lemony scent of Albus' hair. He rubbed circles into his back. Albus pulled away, still sad looking, and said. "You've brought me flowers."

"Yes, I have."

"Oldest trick in the book."

"It was Aunt Bathilda's idea."

Albus gave a genuine laugh and Gellert followed.

"They are Hyacinths. Purple."

"It means forgiveness, amongst other things. You know the Greek myth of hyacinth, don't you, Albus?"

Albus shook his head. "Yes. He was the lover of Apollo. The God of the West Wind grew jealous of their love. Zephyr killed him, and as he lay dying, Apollo tried to save him with his knowledge of medicine, but not even a god of healing could save the one he loved..."

Gellert continued Albus' words, "...In his honor, Apollo made a flower bloom out of Hyacinth's blood."

"It seems many things bloom from blood." Albus said.

They both smiled knowingly.