The Greater Good [GrindelwaldxDumbledore]

~Chapter Fifteen~ Into the Wind

Gellert felt the bile rising in his throat as he stared at the body. His eye darted between the two brothers, who were both looking at their own wands, their expression one of shock. He couldn't shake the guilt that forced his body to tremble, had he been the one to deal the final blow?

Visions of Aleksa, her tormented body quivering as she silently screamed in agony, flashed before Gellert's eyes, making him want to throw his wand and never use magic again. His apology caught in his throat, choking him. The room began to warp and spin, he needed air.

Panicked, not sure if or when the brothers might turn on him, he slipped out of the door into the darkness of the night. Even the moon appeared to be too ashamed of him to show her face, buried under a thick blanket of grey clouds. He made it to the end of the road before he broke down, tears streaming down his face as the heavens opened and the sky wept with him.

With his clothes saturated and weighing him down he staggered on barely-there legs. He was glad that no one in the houses would be awake to see him. It wasn't until he was illuminated by a shard of moonlight that he noticed the blood oozing from the tear in his trousers.

He didn't care if his aunt heard his return or not. He wouldn't be staying much longer. The back door caught the wind and slammed closed. Instinct saw him raise his wand, still clasped in a death grip between his fingers. The urge to throw the wand returned, a fire still smouldered in the grate, enough to rid him of the burden of evidence.

But he needed it. There was little chance of obtaining the Elder wand without it. With a look of revulsion, he slipped it into his pocket.

"Gellert?" Bathilda padded into the kitchen, blinking from the bright light of her wand.

"Sorry..." Was all he could manage before his knees buckled.

"Oh my," she said as she struggled to support his weight. "What happened? Why were you outside in the middle of the night... Is it raining?" Her hand rushed to his forehead, "You're warm, are you sick?"

"I'm so sorry," Gellert couldn't make anything else come out without risking being sick. He wanted to run up the stairs, pack his belongings and run, but his body remained firmly rooted to the spot.

"Talk to me, tell me what happened, I can help you." She let him stumble away from her.

"No you can't, you can't bring her back," Gellert stood shaking, using the door frame to keep him upright.

"Who?" Bathilda sat in one of the kitchen chairs, her sleepy brain not as sharp as she would have liked, given the circumstances. "The girl from school? Has she... Are you in trouble?" She summoned the decanter of brandy and a large glass. Absentmindedly she poured herself a generous measure before knocking it back in a single gulp.

Gellert shook his head and nodded at the same time, unable to make separate the two questions. A fresh wave of grief sending tears cascading onto the kitchen tiles. He wanted to wail, but he didn't have the energy.

"I'm sure it can wait until morning," Bathilda poured him a small shot of brandy, but he refused to take it. "You can't travel, you are in no fit state to go anywhere other than a bed."

Gellert shook his head violently and looked her in the eyes with a dead stare, "I need to go." His voice was gravely and barely there, but the authority it held was undeniable.

"Not until you get some sugar in you, it is good for shock." She gulped back the second brandy and set the kettle on the stove, a quick flick of her wand had fire glowing underneath. "Please explain what's going on. This is all so... out of the blue; you've stayed out of trouble."