Chapter 1: A Letter in the Night

A broad, pitch-black owl hovered across a deserted square like a part of the sky, the twilight stars twinkling benignly above. Godric’s Hollow was silent as death. Nothing stirred below. A heavy envelope was clamped in the owl’s beak. Another, lighter envelope was tied firmly to its leg. The sender hadn’t been able to fit all the pages of parchment into one envelope and, frankly, if he had, he doubted the owl would’ve been able to stay aloft.

The owl swooped down to hover next to the window of the addressee, flapping gently to stay on that level. It hadn’t taken long to deliver. The receiver of the letter got letters from the sender quite frequently. A young teen’s face appeared on the fogged window, his clever features blurred by the low clouds. The shutters were thrown open and the letters carefully untied from the owl. As soon as they were secure in his hands, the boy dismissed the owl. It swooped up into the night, disappearing in the shadows. The window was closed hastily, absent-mindedly, but always silently: the boy didn’t want to wake up his aging aunt at this hour or she’d be frightfully cranky at breakfast. Her bad hearing mixed with the ability to snore as loud as a freight train made the boy doubt any sound he could make could wake his slumbering hostess.

It was another letter from Albus. The name “Gellert Grindelwald� was written out in elegant, perfectly legible script on both envelopes, all characters capitalized. The “A� in his last name was written in the symbol as usual. It was the way they could discern whether the letter was legitimate or a fake sent by a detractor. Both had earned many enemies in their school years. Albus’s were usually furious witches and wizards angered by his father’s…notoriety. Gellert’s were more dangerous and violent. It wasn’t common knowledge that they were the best of friends, almost brothers, but word could get around. Both envelopes were sealed with the symbol as well. The letters they sent could always be intercepted and perused at leisure, but Albus had cast an Irreparable Charm on the seal. Gellert would know if it had been read.

Gellert wondered which to open first, then noticed a tiny number one just in the top right corner, marking which was which. He carefully slit the first envelope open, cautious not to deface the sacred mark of their common goal. The parchments were as thin as dried autumn leaves, but the envelope was still impressively heavy. However, Albus’s writing wasn’t exactly minute. He pulled the pages out, unfolded them, and began to read.

20 July 1900

Gellert—

I have thought the thing through all evening and come to the conclusion that desiring the Stone is weak of me. What use have I of raising the dead? My longing for Kendra is foolish—I have no need of a mother. Indeed, what use have you of the Stone? The story says that they are separated by a veil, not truly belonging to this realm. Anything we can resurrect using the Stone will be utterly useless when the coup begins. It ought to be the last thing we seek this September.

The Cloak should be the second thing to seek. It, too, is rather useless, but of more use than the Stone. We both can cast strong enough Disillusionment Charms to become fully invisible. Our Shield Charms are sufficient to halt any curse (except for the Killing Curse, which we both have concluded that the Cloak could not be strong enough to halt. Then again, this is magic that has never been studied before, objects of complete ingenuity. We can only be sure until it is tested.). The Cloak would be useful in hiding the girl under as we travel. With this we can perhaps even use the girl against our enemies. Her magic is most powerful, even if it is uncontrollable. Think of what a weapon she will make against the subordinates.

This leaves the Wand. The Wand! This is the most coveted prize of the Hallows, the most powerful, and the first thing we must seek. Without it, the whole of the search will the futile. Find the Wand first, and it can be used to find the path to the others, and dispose of any who stand in the way. The Wand is by far the easiest to discover. The books of history are maps to the location of the Wand. I’m sure Gregorovitch does not have it—it must simply be a scheme to put old Ollivander out of business. We can see that fools like Emeric trumpeted their possession, but not to that far extent. Gregorovitch cannot be that unwise. I doubt anyone can.

But the Hallows as a whole—

This was where the first letter ended. Gellert folded the pages up without looking at them, his brows furrowed in thought. Even when he looked so pensive, almost frustrated, his eminent intelligence and handsomeness were painfully obvious. Many of the witches his age in Godric’s Hollow tried to catch his fancy, but none prevailed. Indeed, many of the “subordinates� from the nearby village, as Albus and he had began to call them, had attempted the same. Gellert was sickened by them. All of them, like dogs that bit their masters and were rewarded and protected for doing it. Gellert could’ve screamed in anger. Albus didn’t truly see their purpose as slaves to the magical community, but he agreed that they were inferior and weak, the first to be overtaken in the coup.

The first letter was tossed aside and the second scooped up. It was identical to the first except for the miniscule number two in the corner. Gellert opened it just as he had the other, using his wand this time. His hands were shaking, and he didn’t want to take the chance of tearing the venerable seal. Just for the fun of it, he magicked the single sheet out and had it hover before his eyes at the perfect distance, while he read the words of his friend by wandlight.

—must be collected for true invulnerability. Even if a single thread of the Cloak is missing, a splinter from the Wand or a pebble from the Stone, it must be found and replaced to prevent…accidents. This is a most delicate form of magic that cannot be experimented with to the point of irrationality. Without the Hallows joined together, the coup can never take place. Nothing will change, and the insubordinates will still have their current position as afflicters to the magical community and yet defended by the same. Our search for the Hallows must be meticulously planned out, or nothing we have hoped for can take place. You know this, and so do I. Aberforth will be the hardest to convince of this. For now, we shall conspire how best to find the Wand. I hope to meet you in the square tomorrow morning.

Albus

The “A� in his name was replaced with that symbol, the mark of their quest.

Gellert lay back in bed, a smile on his face, looking forward to the coming morning. There were plans to make, and problems to be taken care of. He fell asleep, his hand still clenched around the two envelopes, his mind fondly fixed on the plans he had for the future wizarding community.

Chapter 2: A Refusal

The day dawned with a brilliant show of colors, purples and pinks streaked across the sky as the sun rose over the horizon. Albus Dumbledore, wearing a crisp shirt and tie, strolled into the square. He glanced at a watch; celestial bodies moved around its face in the stead of hands. It was an old watch, made of gold-coated bronze. The back of it was dented in spots, but a fine, engraved message was clear among the scrapes and scratches.

To Percival Dumbledore: A Gift on the Beginning of His Seventeenth Year

Tears always sprang to Albus’s eyes when he read the message his paternal grandparents had etched into the pocket watch. The watch had come in a grubby, slightly soggy package on his own seventeenth birthday a year earlier, along with a letter from his father. Kendra hadn’t yet died when the parcel was delivered. Albus still marveled that Percival had been able to get it in the post. Perhaps the dementors had felt lenient at the time it was sent. For the thousandth time since he received it, Albus ran his thumb over the face of the watch, in awe that it had belonged to his father. “You will be free, father,� said Albus quietly. “I shall guarantee it.� Anger at the filthy children who damaged his sister and imprisoned his father coursed through Albus’s heart like some lethal venom. His hand closed on the watch, shutting it gently and slipping it into his pocket. “I shall not lose another parent at the hands of inferiors.�

The sun completed its break over the horizon, and the square of Godric’s Hollow was lit up. The last gloomy shadows of the night were driven out, and Albus couldn’t help but feel some sort of hope for the future. Gellert and he had met by chance, but there must be some higher reason behind it. Some sort of fate led them together, both of fiery intelligence, and both with an insatiable passion for “The Tale of the Three Brothers� and the so-called “myth� of the Deathly Hallows that lurked between the story’s lines. Albus knew that he was destined to do something great, and he couldn’t help but feel that it had something to do with he and Gellert, together, improving the world to their vision with the aid of the Hallows. Albus practically itched with anticipation of their sojourn to lands unvisited in search of the Elder Wand. Gellert and he hadn’t decided which would have control over it, but Albus felt to qualms in allowing it to go to Gellert.

His true interest was in the Resurrection Stone, the device that would allow him to communicate with the mother he had never loved, the woman who gave birth to him, raised him, and sent him to get a flawless education, the woman who accepted nothing in return for her love. Albus regretted never spending more time with Kendra, never getting to know her. Now, the only link he had to his mother were the tales that historian, Bathilda, wove for him, tales of when she and Kendra were young witches at Hogwarts.

Albus looked at the watch again. He had been waiting there for quite some time without realizing it. The flow of time was something that never ceased to astound him. Albus glanced up and saw Gellert approaching at last. He wore a large pointed hat at a jaunty angle, with full black robes that practically shimmered in the sunlight. Albus looked jealously at him. As a foreigner, Gellert could do almost anything he wanted. If the Ministry called up on the way he dressed, Gellert could plead that he wasn’t familiar with British customs. Albus’s lips instinctively tightened with a look of disapproval, but quickly loosened into a beaming smile of joy at the sight of his best friend. Neither of them hesitated to get to the point.

“How are we to tell your brother our plans?� asked Gellert promptly. They never referred to Ariana and Aberforth by their names. My brother, your sister. Gellert stressed to Albus not to get too emotionally attached to his siblings—they wouldn’t be there forever, and it would only hurt more when they would pass away. But Albus couldn’t help but love them, his sister’s inquisitive, curious smile, his brother’s passionate affection for Ariana.

“You must come with me,� answered Albus. “If we are both there, it will be easier to persuade Aberforth. I’m sure it won’t be hard to get Ariana on our side. No, Aberforth will be the real obstacle to pass.�

They began to stroll back towards Albus’s house, taking long strides across the square. A graveyard was tucked away in a corner of the square. Gellert and Albus had already examined Ignotus Peverell’s tombstone to no end. There was no hint as to the location of the Cloak on it. Gellert was disappointed; the whole reason for his summer at Godric’s Hollow, at the real reason, was to see if he could find any leads to the Cloak. They both came to the conclusion that the Cloak had been passed down the male line. It was explicitly mentioned at the end of the tale that Ignotus gave the Cloak to his son before meeting Death.

They reached the humble house that the Dumbledores called home. It wasn’t anything grand. A low, iron-wrought fence lined the front yard. The grass used to be lush and green; the garden had once been a rainbow of exotic flowers and plants. Now, with the death of their main caretaker, the only novel thing in the yard being a small pen corralling a handful of horned goats that Aberforth liked to keep “for the milk.� Gellert and Albus stepped over the small fence and into the narrow, cobbled walkway. Weeds sprouted up between the cracks and stains from odd potions dotted the stones. Albus strolled up the stairs and opened the door carefully.

Ariana sat behind the door, with marionettes in her small hands. “Albus!� she cried as her older brother stepped over the threshold. She tossed the marionettes aside into a tangled mess before dashing up to Albus’s feet and hugging his fiercely.

Reluctant to show his affection in front of Gellert, Albus patted Ariana’s golden curls awkwardly. A small shock came from her hands, jolting Albus, but he had gotten used to the smaller effects of her wild magic. He had never known anyone with more powerful magic. No one dared letting Ariana near a wand since she was born.

Gellert followed Albus closely and closed the front door. Ariana loosened her arms and turned to Gellert. She smiled cautiously, almost coldly, a metallic gleam in her eye that Ariana reserved for him. No one sensed Gellert’s coarseness more than she, but Ariana showed him toleration and respect simply because of the admiration her big brother held for the boy. She sat back behind the door and, with a small wave of her hand, untangled the strings of the marionettes.

“Careful, Ari!� said Aberforth, who had appeared at the top of the stairs. Albus’s brother wore a smock with a wand poking from the side pocket. Albus secretly didn’t know why Aberforth bothered carrying a wand when it was so challenging to use for him. Albus told him again and again to go to Hogwarts, that he would take care of Ari himself, but Aberforth was too stubborn and independent to accept his brother’s wisdom.

Aberforth glared up at Albus and Gellert. He was short and stocky, almost plump, though that didn’t come from sloth. The goat’s milk did his metabolism well, Albus observed wryly. His hair was once brown, but was now speckled with grays and blacks that no stranger would be able to tell the true color of the roots. His face was always smirched and dirty, dust from cleaning and the seemingly ever-present renovations to their house at Godric’s Hollow. Percival Dumbledore had always raved to his wife about adding to the house, but he had been taken away by the Magical Law Enforcement Squad before he had ever had a chance to act on his planning. Through some sort of humility, even love for his father, Aberforth had taken it upon himself to fix the house, to make it more habitable. “What are you lot doing here?� snapped Aberforth. Albus noted that Aberforth had a sharp and acute tone that so resembled the goat’s horns he loved to…play with.

“We’ve made plans,� Gellert said bluntly. “We’ll be leaving in September for our…travels. You and the girl shall come with us.�

Aberforth stood up straighter, his eyes not quite level with Gellert’s. However, the deathly whisper Aberforth spoke in made up for that shortcoming. “You aren’t taking Ari anywhere. She’s fragile. She’ll hurt herself and possibly others moving around all the time, and Merlin knows what sort of living conditions will be maintained on your bloody trip. She could flout the International Statue of Secrecy and have those blithering idiots at our Ministry swooping down any minute. And,� added Aberforth bluntly, “the magical community is on the brink of war. Dana Mortlake is marching through France like no tomorrow, practically waving banners in front of Muggles that even they can’t rationalize away. No. She’s not going, I won’t allow it.�

Albus looked deep into Aberforth’s crystal blue eyes with intensity, but saw that his brother was resolute. Gellert glared, shadows darkening the skin under his eyes, but Albus stepped between his brother and his friend. “Gellert,� he whispered, almost conspiratorially, “Aberforth will see sense eventually. Let him think it over. We can take action when we go to leave for good.� Albus looked pleadingly into Gellert’s deep eyes. “Trust me.�

Gellert turned and walked out the front door. Albus followed, closing the door behind them. Ari’s face appeared at the window, bidding them farewell with a small wave.

Chapter 3: A Thief Disciplined

July leaked into August, and August morphed into September. Gellert and Albus hadn’t brought up their departure to Aberforth again, but they still made their plans. Owls flew back and forth across Godric’s Hollow that even Gellert’s Aunt Batty noticed the correspondence. Both boys checked to see whether the letter had been previously read, but they never were.

Until now.

The figure waited in the streets, his outline barely perceptible in the thick darkness. He sat benignly on the cobblestone, staring patiently at the heavens, waiting for an owl to pass over head. He hadn’t long to wait before a sweeping eagle owl swooped across the night sky. A wand was slipped from the folds of the robes, and a spell was cast. “Accio Owl!� It shot down and landed onto the thief’s arm. The owl screeched as its delivery was torn from its beak. He opened it hastily, afraid the addressee would turn suspicious as time went by but no response returned. It was a single sheet of parchment.

16 September 1900

Albus,

We cannot ignore it any longer. Precious seconds spill into the base of the hourglass every moment we delay our departure because of the boy’s hotheadedness. I have thought of a lead for the Wand as I polished my own, but can say no more in this letter. Tomorrow we must approach the boy and take the girl, or someone else will take action on this lead before us. The world awaits—

Gellert

The thief noticed some strange symbol that lurked around the letter, stamped into the seal and such. He didn’t recognize it, but he never learned the runes of old. He shoved the letter back into its envelope and resealed it with a hasty charm. It worked, for a few seconds, but the seal broke again in mere moments. Fear clutched the thief’s heart. He could recreate the letter, but undoubtedly the addressee recognizes his correspondent’s handwriting enough to easily recognize a forgery. Furthermore, the thief couldn’t read or write very well. Before he could make a decision, the torn envelope was snatched out of his hands. The owl continued its journey to the addressee. The thief looked pitifully at the owl.

Albus awoke as sharp talons pierced his bedsheets. He sat up, lighting his wand and taking the letter from Gellert’s owl. He always left the window open for letters, knowing what a light sleeper Aberforth was. But something was wrong. The envelope had been opened and read, so much was clear. Albus leapt from his bed and looked out the open window sharply. The square was deserted. Whoever had intercepted the letter didn’t linger around the scene of the crime. Albus sat back on his bed and read the letter quickly before burning it, shooting a thin stream of flames from the tip of his wand. He glanced nervously out the window once more. Someone out there knew some sort of information about the quest and Gellert’s and his plans. Albus fell back asleep, worry and frustration lining his face, and dreamed of faceless enemies reading all the letters he had sent.

The next morning Albus woke up early in the morning, feeling more exhausted than when he had gone to sleep. He strode quietly out the door and straight to Gellert’s house. He pulled a tiny broomstick out of his pocket and, with a whispered “Engorgio!�, flew into Gellert’s open bedroom window. He landed lightly on the mustard-colored carpet and shrunk his broom back down to its minute scale as before. With gentle shakes, Albus woke the sleeping form of his friend. “Gellert,� he muttered. “Gellert!�

“Mfgh?�

Albus lifted the pillow off Gellert’s face and nearly shouted. “Gellert!�

“What?� said Gellert grumpily, sitting up in his bed. His blonde curls were tousled beyond any chance of organization, and his normally cheery face was sluggish with drowsiness.

“Someone intercepted the letter you sent me last night.�

“What?!� yelped Gellert loudly, and the steady snoring that had filtered from under their feet stuttered. They both stood there, not daring to breath, but soon again the snoring continued. “Do you have it?� whispered Gellert apologetically.

“Of course not,� said Albus, sweeping the thought away. “I burned it the moment I read it. It’s gone. But someone knows! Someone knows about our plans, about the lead you have!�

Gellert groaned and glanced at his wand, and realization struck Albus. “Gregorovitch,� he said hoarsely. “He’s bragged about some powerful, ancient wand he models his own craft after.�

“And I found traces of elder wood in my own Gregorovitch wand,� said Gellert, shaking it gently. Green and silver sparks sprinkled from the end. “And its made of oak, not elder. It could lead nowhere, but you never know.� Gellert shrugged. “It might lead somewhere.�

“But we have to deal with Aberforth first,� said Albus, the intercepted letter completely forgotten at Gellert’s revelation. “Yes. Let’s go, we need to leave as soon as possible.�

They left the room through the front door this time, walking furtively across the square as the sun rose. Light streamed through the clouds and settled on the graveyard. It seemed to Albus that the sunshine particularly highlighted Kendra Dumbledore’s plot. Albus forced the thought away and looked back at his own house. They stepped over the small fence and through the front door. “Aberforth?� called Albus tentatively. Gellert gave an encouraging nod. “ABERFORTH?�

Albus’s brother stepped down the rickety staircase, his arm around his little sister. “What do you want?� he asked angrily. It couldn’t be hard to predict why Gellert and Albus were here.

“We’re leaving,� said Gellert sharply, reaching towards Ariana. “Now.�

“No.� Aberforth pushed Ari behind his back. “I told you last summer, you’re not taking her. Go wherever the hell you want, but Ariana stays.� Aberforth glared provokingly. “I knew you would be leaving today, looking for some stupid wand—�

“You,� said Gellert, and his enunciations were like earthquakes that struck like bolts of lightning. “You took that letter, you filthy little monster….� Gellert slowly took his wand out, a manic glint in his eye that Albus couldn’t help but notice.