For The Greater Good | Grindeldore OneShots

Late Night Mistake Part Three

A/N: HI! So, it's been a while. A lot has happened, and I'll be honest, I lost the inspiration to keep writing these stories. But, someone recently brought it back. Thank you Illuminati1 for saving me from the writer's block with this. I promise I will try to update more often than once a year... LOL... But if you have ideas, let me know! I want to write stuff that people want to read! Anyway, try and enjoy this trainwreck of an update. Thanks so much for reading these stories,

-Damien

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Dumbledore sat staring out the window at the dark night sky surrounding his castle of imprisonment. He wondered now what his students would be thinking, whether people were searching for him or not. It had been nearly a month since the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher had disappeared from Hogwarts. Surely, someone had noticed. Dumbledore let out a breath. He watched a barn owl glide through the night sky, free as can be. A part of him longed to be away from this place, but more of him was yearning to stay as each new day passed. Of all that he'd been through here, not once had he been harmed. In fact, Grindelwald had very much been treating him like the old friend he was.

The old friend he missed.

"I remember those days..." Dumbledore said quietly to himself. He remembered their adventures, their mischief, their endless days learning and teaching each other new spells. Grindelwald had challenged his mind every day. In some ways, Grindelwald shaped the wizard Dumbledore was now. He knew so many little techniques that most other wizards would never dream of knowing, and it was all thanks to the wizard he'd spent an entire summer with. But it was more than sharing knowledge, they shared something more, a bond. After things fell apart, Dumbledore had tried to pretend it never happened, but no matter how hard he worked at forgetting, he could never forget those two months of something real. Did Gellert Remember too?

A lump had formed in his throat that he was only now becoming aware of. Of course Grindelwald remembered, he wouldn't be doing this if he didn't. Or, maybe he was faking it all. Dumbledore knew him. He was definitely cruel enough to pretend to care, to go to such a length to play with Dumbledore's feelings just to win his allegiance back. The thought of it drew out feelings that until now had been suppressed in the deepest depths of Dumbledore's heart. Feelings that were strong enough to bring very real tears to his eyes. And as they rolled down his cheeks, an idea sparked within his mind. If Grindelwald had forgotten, he knew how to remind him. Quickly, Dumbledore searched for a vial. He collected his tears in it and corked it shut. The chance of Grindelwald caring enough to look was slim enough, but Dumbledore had something he thought he'd lost; Hope.

In a swift fashion, Dumbledore sat at the desk in his room and scribbled something out. He didn't think much about what he was writing. What mattered was that it was honest and raw, and wholly him. He rolled it up hastily, tying the vial with his tears to it. It wasn't much, but it just might be enough. Dumbledore crept out of his room and into the dark, empty hallways that sang with the whispers of wind that blew in through its many cracks and glassless windows. No matter how many sleepless nights Dumbledore spent wandering the halls, he would never lose the shivers that ran down his spine. Over many years, he'd grown used to the sounds of Hogwarts. The voices from paintings of people long passed on, the shifting and creaking of staircases, the sounds of owls calling out into the night, the occasional chatter from teachers up late. They were sounds of comfort. This place, this awful place, filled him with nothing short of uneasiness. Grindelwald's quarters were not too far from his own, but nevertheless, his feet shuffled quickly along the carpeted floors to bring him to his destination. Thankfully, Grindelwald had not yet returned to his room, which left an open window of opportunity for Dumbledore to slip in and place his little note on his desk for him to find later. Without much more thought, or a moment of hesitation, Dumbledore quickly made his way back to his own room where he would lay awake a second night, pondering the many things which lead him onto this specific path. Even after years of sleepless nights in thought, he still could never figure out why he was the one put in Grindelwald's path of ambition and desire. Furthermore, he could never understand why he didn't flee. In the end, he decided he didn't care.