The Greater Good: Dumbledore and Grindelwald

For the Greater Good

Albus' heart was beating and his mind was racing the entire way home. He couldn't seem to process what he had just discovered. How could he? It was monumental. The legend of the Hallows wasn't even recognized by most wizarding communities as historial fact, and in the space of a few weeks, he and Gellert had managed to establish what they considered to be hard evidence that it was, in fact, true.

Albus was convinced that a discovery of this magnitude required a mind like his. And a mind like Gellert's. Their intelligence and areas of expertise were equal, and complemented each other. Gellert's ability, plus Albus' knowledge seemed to be an unbeatable duo. Albus would never have admitted it while he was at school, because of the love that he had for the place. Hogwarts would forever be in his heart. A home away from home. But for all the years that Albus had been there, he had been the most brilliant student in the year. And it wasn't even close.

Albus had topped every class, got the highest marks on every piece of homework, got the best OWLs and NEWTs, had even left his examiner with a dropped jaw after he'd demonstrated a full-bodied corporeal Patronus in his fifth year. The teachers had all loved him, apart from that one time in his fourth year when fellow Gryffindor Quincey Estecato had snuck firewhiskey back into the dorms and gotten everyone drunk, resulting in Albus accidentally setting fire to the dorm.

The only thing Albus probably hadn't dominated was Quidditch. He'd never cared much for the sport. And as a result, he'd always felt ahead of all of his peers. Like they were forcing him to slow down. But Gellert was different. Gellert was razor-sharp, and articulate, and everything that Albus had ever admired about himself. He challenged Albus' own intellect, forced him to dig deep and think. And his passion was unrivalled: Albus had never met somebody so fiercely resilient in their own beliefs, so strong of will.

Finally, someone on Albus' level. Just the idea of it filled him with excitement, with bubbly anticipation. Anticipation of what the two might be able to accomplish, what legends they might become. Albus was so entranced in his own mind that he hadn't even realised that he'd left his coat behind. He quickly patted his trouser pocket for the familiar shape of his wand and decided against going back. It was cold and dark, and he wanted nothing more than to get to the warm sanctity of his bedroom.

Albus placed his palms on the low wall that separated his front garden from the street and, rather than opening the gate, he vaulted himself over the wall into the garden. There was a big smile on his face as he did so: Albus couldn't even explain it to himself, but he was bubbling and full of energy. Instantly, however, he regretted it as he glanced at his own moss-covered palms. Albus giggled at this, and wiped his hands clean on his trousers. He traipsed up the garden path, and opened the front door with a quick jab from his wand.

The house was in darkness, although Albus spied a glimmer of light from the gap underneath the closed lounge door. As he shut the door quietly, he heard the gentle sound of voices coming from the lounge. Albus strained his ears until he was certain that he could make out Aberforth speaking softly.

"-going to have to eat something if you want to feel better, Ana."

At the sound of Aberforth's pet name for Ariana, Albus scowled automatically and involuntarily. Although it was a very soft scowl. More like a grimace, really. Ariana hadn't said a word to Albus since he'd been back at home. Not a single world. Or to anyone else for that matter. Aberforth was the only one who she would speak to, and even her sentences to him were few and far between.

And Aberforth was no better. He said few things to Albus that weren't scathing comments about how Albus saw his family as a burden. Albus didn't admit it to either of them, but the both of them pissed him off. Siblings they might be, but Albus wasn't like Ariana or Aberforth. Aberforth wasn't a bog-standard wizard, but he wasn't anything remarkable. Albus, on the other hand, was remarkable. Better than that, he was brilliant. And he'd been on the precipice of achieving incredible things. Instead of cooped up in Godric's Hollow, he could have been studying Herbology in Nepal, or in Romania, working on his thesis about the usefulness of dragon's blood. Or any one of a thousand other amazing things.