Chapter Text
Harry hadn't meant to pry. Really. It was an accident. Sort of, anyway. He had looked for Dumbledore, but when he entered the office, the headmaster had left. Harry had waited and waited and suddenly - not that he had searched through Dumbledore's stuff. He really hadn't. - he saw the pensieve.
Silver dust rose up and swirled on the surface. He had seen it before but it still fascinated him like the first time he had seen it. It was so beautiful and yet so mysterious. Harry wondered if there were any memories in it right now. So he went over to it and looked. He hadn't meant to fall in it. He just kind of tripped and it was a simple coincidence that he landed right in the pensieve.
So now he was in the headmaster's memory: He saw a young Dumbledore sitting on a bed. He was roughly seventeen years old. He looked attractive yet a little bit too aware of it. He had the aura of a self-confident man. The room he was in was dimly lit and Harry just knew that it must be Dumbledore's bedroom in the house of his family.
Suddenly there was a noise and young Dumbledore looked up. A young man - about the age of young Dumbledore - climbed through the window. Only now did Harry notice how dark it was outside. It must by little past midnight. The newly arrived boy sat down on the bed next to young Dumbledore. Grinning he pushed his golden hair from his face. He looked really handsome and strangely familiar yet Harry couldn't say why.
"So Albus? What is it? I apparated instantly! So tell me"
Young Dumbledore snorted. "You could have apparated directly into my room, you know?"
The golden haired boy smirked at Dumbledore, "but that wouldn't have been so impressive, don't you think" A smile flashed over Dumbledore's face. He seemed very comfortable around his friend - well Harry guessed they were friends. They seemed close, you could easily see it by just the way they smiled at each other.
"I just thought. You know, Gellert, how we wizards always have to hide. But why, where came that rule from? Why is living undercover supposedly better?" Harry gasped, the name Gellert rang a bell. Gellert... he had heard that name before but where? Only right now he couldn't ponder on that because this Gellert answered enthusiastically, "I know. I wondered about that too. Wizards are better and-"
"Yes, better. We could make this world a better place. Imagine all the good stuff we could do. We could help so many people with our magic", the young Dumbledore interrupted his friend, "Well, I just thought, if the muggles knew about us wouldn't life be so much easier?"
Harry had never heard Dumbledore talk that way before. He was so eager and Harry got the impression that somehow young Dumbledore's idea of a better world was not the same as old Dumbledore's idea.
"Thank god, I'm not the only one who thinks that" Gellert grinned. The same eagerness shining in his green eyes. He lied down on the bed and grinned up to young Dumbledore, sleepily. Who in return scoffed.
"What, who made you think you're staying?"
He smirked, "why, you did" and blew young Dumbledore a kiss. Harry watched as the young version of his headmaster blushed slightly and lied down next to his friend.
The scene changed. Yet when the smoke and dust settled to forms and persons, Harry found himself again in young Dumbledore's room and it seemed it was the following morning.
Young Dumbledore had just woken up and was now looking down at his sleeping friend. Harry came to think that maybe Dumbledore had mentioned his friend to Harry and that would be why he recognized the name "Gellert".
This Gellert looked very peaceful while sleeping, his golden curls falling across his handsome face. His face had sharp features and, Harry imagined, could easily look cold or even cruel. But not right now nor when he had smiled at young Dumbledore. While he slept and dreamed of who knows what - but Harry concluded it must be a pleasant dream, because a smile was on his lips- his face looked so peaceful and innocent. He seemed somewhat distant, though, like an angel – beautiful, lovely, but hard to reach. And in the way young Dumbledore looked at his friend, he must have the same notions as Harry, that Gellert was a sleeping beauty.
Young Dumbledore sat up still looking down at his handsome friend. So peaceful. Gently he placed a hand on his cheek, waking him up. Gellert's eyelids fluttered open. Green eyes looked at young Dumbledore. Confused he blinked and sat up. "Albus", he mumbled, "I've just dreamed of you."
Harry noticed how young Dumbledore blushed at that remark. He didn't remove his hand from his cheek though. Harry noticed how very close they were. They both sat in bed blushing and smiling at each other. Harry couldn't say why but he had the feeling that the friendship between young Dumbledore and his Gellert was a lot different to his own friendship with Ron. The way Gellert's beautiful green eyes sparkled at young Dumbledore crystal blue ones. And how they wandered down to his lips, blinking shyly. Young Dumbledore shuffled even closer to his friend and suddenly Gellert closed the distance between them and kissed young Dumbledore. Woah, Harry hadn't seen that coming.
Both boys closed their eyes. Yet the kiss was so innocent and tender. So testing. Harry felt like an intruder. Witnessing young Dumbledore kiss his best friend was not what Harry had expected when he had fallen – accidentally on purpose – in the pensieve. The kiss deepened only very slowly, as if both boys were very unsure about this. Harry was sure, this must have been their first kiss. He watched in a mixture of fascination and horror as Gellert pushed young Dumbledore gently down on his back and carefully climbed on top of him. Still kissing. He pinned with his right hand the young headmaster's hands over his head with and with his left he searched for the point between shirt and trousers. Finding it, he slipped his hand under young Dumbledore's shirt. In shock Harry heard young Dumbledore moan under his best friend's touch.
Relief rushed through Harry as a young boy burst into the room. He looked like a younger and less handsome version of young Dumbledore. "Breakfast is...Woah, well my great brother who is too great and awesome to take care of our little sister is too busy fucking boys. I bet that explains Elphias's eagerness and anticipation to your journey together" Young Dumbledore pushed Gellert from him and hushed the boy out of the room. Before Harry followed them, he looked one more time back to Gellert. Who sat on the floor. One hand tracing his own lips, a forlorn look in his eyes. He blinked, mumbled "Albus".
Harry turned back and hurried after young Dumbledore. This other person couldn't be his brother, right? But he had said brother and he had even spoken about a sister. Harry was shocked. How much did he really know about his headmaster? And he concluded, he really did know close to nothing.
"It's not what you think. I'm not gay." Harry heard young Dumbledore say before the scene shifted again.
Black swirls settled and Harry was back again in young Dumbledore's room. Young Dumbledore lied on his bed, wearing the same clothes as in the scene before. Harry concluded it was the same day. Gellert must have left when the Dumbledore brothers argued. Young Dumbledore looked miserable. He had little birds flying around his head which reminded Harry strongly of the time Hermione was heartbroken because of Ron and Lavender. That was only a few weeks ago. It still wasn't settled between them. Harry sighed. He felt pity for Dumbledore. It must be confusing to find out that you love your best friend – just like Hermione must feel about Ron – but that his younger brother stormed in? That must be worse.
Suddenly a phoenix flattered into the room through the open window. At first Harry thought it was Fawkes but it was blue and transparent, it was a patronus. Young Dumbledore looked up as it swirled around his head and it finally settled down in front of him. The patronus spoke in the voice of Gellert: "Meet me at the graveyard."
The scene changed again. There was a big oak on a meadow behind a graveyard. Harry spotted a little village in the distance behind the graveyard and church. Young Dumbledore let himself fall down next to an already sitting Gellert. His head jerked up, grinning as he looked at his friend.
"Since when do you have a phoenix as patronus?", young Dumbledore asked smiling. Gellert shrugged. "Funny we have the same patronus now. Mine is an phoenix too", young Dumbledore added.
"Really? What a coincidence. I used to have an dragon as patronus, always thought it was the most magical creature in the world but lately I came to think of the phoenix as a much more powerful creature. It defeats death! His tears have more powers than any potions wizards can create. I guess that explains the change. I haven't heard from changing patronus forms ever before..."
Black swirls began to burst through the meadow and the two handsome friends began to un-form. Harry stood again in the headmaster's office. Strange, Dumbledore wasn't back now. But Harry didn't want to wait anymore, he stormed off to search Hermione.
He passed Dumbledore on the stairs, "Harry? I thought-"
"Sorry headmaster, but I need to talk to Hermione" And with that Harry left.
After Harry had told Hermione everything he had seen and heard, he waited for Hermione to say something. She sat there shocked, her hand at her mouth. "Harry, do you know what that means?" Harry shrugged.
"Oh, Harry. You really should read sometimes! Gellert Grindelwald, one of the most dangerous dark wizards of all time. Dumbledore defeated him in 1945." She furrowed her brows. "Mmh, but if what you said is true... Oh, Harry! Grindelwald fell in love with Dumbledore. His patronus changed and Dumbledore, Dumbledore must have loved him too." She sighed, "oh, Harry."
Harry decided, they had to go back and look for more memories.
And he was determined to go back. If only he knew when and how... So weeks passed and weeks turned into months. Hermione – though still slightly pissed because of the book of the half-blood prince – promised to help and accompany him.
And then the chance presented itself. Dumbledore had shown him memories, concerning the Dark Lord. But then he excused himself, he was needed elsewhere. When he passed through the door, it didn't fall back in place immediately. First it lingered there wide open. With a loud thud it closed a second later.
Startled Harry reached for his wand.
Hermione appeared next to him. "I borrowed your dad's cloak. Oh and I took care of Dumbledore, he won't be back for a few hours. Do you know where the memories are?"
Harry just starred at her baffled, "I..."
"Fine, guess I have to find it myself" and Hermione set at work.
“Nothing” Hermione had searched through tons of memories, demonstrating a very long life. “Tell me again, Harry, how did you even stumble upon the first one?”
“I already told you, it just was there. In the pensieve..”
She sighed, forefinger and thumb pressed on the bridge of her nose, “where would I store memories like that one, private...forbidden...” She remained in that pose, mumbling under her breath.
“Oh”, she looked up to Harry.
“Oh?”
“Of course, he wouldn't put them to the others, they must be somewhere else...somewhere” She began to wander through Dumbledore's office, Harry followed. At the desk they stopped, crunching down to the little cupboard beneath the desk plate. “Alohomora” They were various shelves, full with scrolls, ink pots, treats for Fawkes, and the one farthest down was empty. Hermione turned to Harry, grinning expectantly, “Revelio” and indeed now there was a box, filled with phials containing silvery liquid – memories.
“Gotcha”
“How do we know where to start?”
“We don't”, Hermione shrugged and picked a phial at random. “Isn't this exciting?”
Harry followed her to the pensieve, and speaking to the back of her bushy hair, “What?”
He thought she hadn't heard him for she simply poured the liquid in the pensieve, ignoring his question, but then she looked up to him. The look on her face was mischievous, “well, breaking the rules, looking at hidden memories, a forbidden love story, I could go on forever but let's do this”
They fell and fell. Black smoke swirled all around them. Schemes and figures started to shape and distinguish themselves from the rest. When the scene settled, Harry and Hermione found themselves in a big living room. There were many books lying around - in shelves, on the ground. Ancient paintings hung on the walls. White curtains were drawn over the big windows, yet thin enough to let the light inside.
A little girl ran through the room, jumping and snickering, pretending to be on horse back. The filtered sunlight wasn't the only source of light, candles burned on the table and hang under the ceiling, just like they do in the great hall at Hogwarts, painting the whole room in a golden light. Young Dumbledore was sitting on the couch, reading a book. Gellert occupied the rest of said couch, lying next to him and resting his head on his lap. Gellert's golden hair fell over young Dumbledore's knees. He was making flowers and feathers float over them, while Dumbledore was absently playing with his hair. They were silent, content just being close to each other.
Again Harry felt like an intruder. Hermione must have felt the same. With startling pink cheeks, she looked away – and she hadn't even seen them kissing! When she noticed Harry staring, she immediately began explaining – or how he thought of it defending – herself, “it's just so intimate, I mean, I just feel so... like an intruder”
He could remind her that just a few minutes ago she had said how exciting it all would be, but instead he just nodded, “yeah, I know”
The look on her face wasn't, he decided, purely slight embarrassment of seeing something not meant for her eyes, but also close to longing – wistfulness. She and Ron still weren't talking. And Harry knew, more than wanting him to choose her over Lavender, she wanted her friend back. He couldn't image how that must feel – losing not only your love but also your close friend.
“Hermione”, he said in a sudden realization, “Dumbledore fought against him”
“Yeah..”, she was again looking at the pair. They didn't know yet what would happen to them. When she finally looked back at Harry, she had tears at the brim of her eyes, “and isn't that the saddest thing”
They stayed a little longer, before leaving the memory. They didn't talk, just took the next memory and poured it into the pensieve.