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Renaissance: Grindledore

Summary:

In the aftermath of a fierce battle, Albus Dumbledore stands alone, haunted by the vanishing of Gellert Grindelwald, the dark wizard who had once been his closest ally and greatest love. The air is thick with tension as Albus grapples with the weight of loss and betrayal, his heart torn between hatred and an unyielding love for the man who has caused so much suffering.

As shadows loom over the remnants of the battlefield, Albus is enveloped in a suffocating silence, memories of past traumas flooding his mind. The death of Credence weighs heavily on him, a cruel reminder of Grindelwald's relentless ambition. Alone with his thoughts, he feels the oppressive grip of despair tightening around him, threatening to consume him.

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The battle was over.

Gellert Grindelwald had vanished before the eyes of thousands of people.

Before his eyes.

The man who stood exactly where the dark wizard had been only moments before was frozen, staring into the void, his hand reaching out toward a nonexistent form. He was as if petrified, while the crowd below began to fade away.

Soon, only he, Queenie, Tina, Norbert, his brother Taizé, and Jacob remained, with Credence's body having been retrieved by the Ministry.

Albus lowered his arm, powerless.

He had escaped again.

He closed his eyes for a moment, catching his breath and gathering every ounce of strength not to collapse.

He hated with all his heart the one with the mismatched eyes.

He hated him perhaps as much as he loved him...

At that moment, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was doing everything he could not to crumble, trembling as the pain within him stabbed mercilessly. He felt as if he were drowning, as if he had accumulated too much liquid in his lungs, as if everything around him was becoming too small, the atmosphere suffocating, just like the silence that had surrounded him for what felt like endless minutes that seemed like hours.

He fought against the urge to scream in pain, to tear his heart out with his bare hands in the face of the horrible feeling of oppression that gripped his entire body.

“Professor, are you okay?” The magizoologist broke the heavy silence but made no further movement.

The man in question turned, his throat tight with a sensation of barbed wire, his face pale and his eyes ravaged by tears.

“It was a stupid question, forgive me…”

Norbert stepped closer to the one who had been his teacher during his years at Hogwarts, guiding him to sit on the steps of the stone staircase.

“I…” was all the redhead could manage before shedding another tear.

He knew Grindelwald was a bad person, but to go so far as to kill Credence, his brother's son, he could not bear it.

He was the one who saved him from suicide after the death of his mother, then after the death of his sister, Ariana. He was the one who showed him the true meaning of the word “love,” who showed him that despite the trials he had faced, he deserved to be a survivor.

He was also the one who broke his heart by leaving overnight without further explanation.

He was the one destroying the world for which Albus fought.

And he was destroying it because of the unconditional love he bore for him, despite himself.

He ran his trembling hands over his face, cleared his throat, and said in a weak voice:

“Let’s go home, we have nothing left to do here.”

He stood up, his body shaking, but had to grip the stone wall to avoid falling backward.

He offered his hand to Norbert, who held Jacob's, then Queenie gave her hand to her fiancé and extended the other to Taizé while Tina already held the magizoologist's hand.

They Disapparated to Hogwarts, escorting Dumbledore back to the castle.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay, Albus?”

“Don’t worry about me, Taizé, go home, we’ll see each other at the wedding.”

“We’ll send you the invitation,” Queenie said with a kind smile.

He nodded to them all as they headed back to the capital.

The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was now walking on the bridge leading to the castle entrance.

He focused on keeping a neutral expression, just long enough to reach his quarters.

He finally arrived at his room after what felt like an eternity; the corridors were filled with students despite the weekend already being well underway.

He simply closed the door, leaned against it, and slid down to the floor.

He buried his head between his arms, his knees drawn up to his chest, and finally let the tears flow.

He had lost all sense of time; he cried as he had never cried before.

He released everything he had kept buried inside him all these years: the death of his sister, Gellert’s departure, then his fight with him a few years ago, and now his return and new escape.

Air barely reached his lungs. He lifted his head, loosening his tie. But it did no good. Red patches appeared on his neck, and suddenly the tingling in his fingers intensified.

He gasped for air, ran a hand through his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks, carving salt dikes.

He struggled to his feet, leaning against the back of a chair when a few knocks echoed at the door of his apartment.

He ignored them, hoping that his panic attack would pass.

But no.

The door opened to reveal Minerva.

She lifted her head towards Albus, but when she saw him, she rushed to her colleague and friend, placing the plate of food she held in her hand down, then made him sit.

She took his hands in hers.

“Albus, look at me, okay?” The man in question nodded slowly, trying to breathe, but in vain.

“Okay, Albus, now I want you to follow my breathing, okay? Inhale… Exhale… Go ahead, your turn.” He took deep breaths under the sorrowful gaze of his colleague.

“Good, keep going…”

She helped him breathe for a few more minutes, and when he was calmer, he straightened up, running a hand over his face.

“Thank you, Min…”

“It’s nothing. I imagine there were… complications?”

Albus lowered his head, fiddling with the skin of his nails.

“He… He…” He took a deep breath while closing his eyes, then continued: “He’s gone.”

“And are you surprised…”

“I just thought… that he might have changed… I may have hoped too much from him, as usual.”

“No, Albus.” She placed a hand on his. “Don’t be so hard on yourself; you can’t change someone like that. No matter how pure your love for Gellert is.”

“I know… But I keep wondering… What if I had acted differently?”

“You mean, what if you had gone to join him on the other side…” the young woman asked, her expression downcast.

“No, but what if I had managed to convince him to stop his massacre…”

“You know very well that someone like him won’t change until he faces death, Al’. Stop hurting yourself for someone who isn't worth it.”

The man lowered his eyes. That was why he admired Minerva: she knew what to say, but she also knew where to hit the hardest.

No matter how many times Grindelwald could have killed him, he would never have stopped loving him. Even if that love was as poisoned as the bite of a black widow.

“The love I have for him transcends understanding… You know that very well…”

She looked at him with a sad smile, tracing circles on the back of Albus’s hand with her thumb.

“I know. That’s what I’ve always admired about you. But the purity of your heart will one day… and I may not be there to pick you up, Al’.”

He smiled weakly. She was right.

He nodded towards the plate of food placed on the coffee table behind her.

“Oh right, you weren’t at dinner, so I made you a plate, without the broccoli; I know you hate it.” She gave him a wide smile, handing him the plate.

“Thank you…”

He looked at the dish before him. It looked delicious, but the recent events had completely cut off his appetite for several weeks, unfortunately.

“If you don’t want it, don’t force yourself; the day has been hard, I can imagine…”

“Not just the day… Everything has resurfaced… Everything I’ve been trying to set aside has exploded in my face in less than thirty milliseconds…”

“Ariana…”

“And everything that comes with it…” He lowered his head in shame.

“If you feel like you’re about to do something that would make you relapse, you come to me. And don’t tell me you don’t want to disturb me, Albus.”

“It’s all over now.”

“No, it’s never over, Albus. It’s a constant struggle. And in struggles, there are falls. If things aren’t going well, you come to me, even if it’s in the middle of the night.”

He nodded, mimicking a thank you.

She stood up, squeezed his shoulder in a gesture of support, and closed the door behind her.

He closed his eyes and breathed slowly.

The beats of his heart raced through his entire body.

He went into the adjoining bathroom and took a cold shower, hoping it would be enough to calm his thoughts.

Unfortunately, the memories continued to haunt him throughout the night, waking him in gasps, hands trembling and throat tight multiple times.

He didn’t want to be affected by all this; yet it was far too powerful, even for him. Guilt, anger, and sadness had never been as strong as they were at that moment.

He hated himself for loving the most dangerous man in the wizarding world, the most wanted man, but the man for whom he had given his whole life in search of his soulmate. Because yes, Gellert Grindelwald was indeed his soulmate, no matter what he tried to do to change that.

When he arrived at Hogwarts, he quickly bonded with Minerva McGonagall, who was also a teacher at the time.

She quickly became his confidante, his best friend. They had no secrets from each other.

Cold sweats returned as he tried to escape the never-ending nightmare in which he was trapped: he saw Grindelwald die before his eyes, his last words being a declaration of love. Then, in the next moment, he saw life leave his body, the eyes of the one he had always loved had stopped shining. He kissed him one last time, tears streaming down his cheeks.

He woke up, gasping, placing a clenched hand on his chest.

“What have you done…”

He regained his composure, looked at the time, and sighed. Three seventeen in the morning.

He resigned himself and got dressed. He wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep.

He grabbed his wand and left his apartment, the cool breeze hitting his face.

He had never been sensitive to the cold, but that night, the wind was particularly icy outside. He cursed himself for not having taken his coat as he continued to walk through the castle’s corridors.

If he wasn’t going to sleep, he might as well do a brief round.

He walked around the castle, having only the sounds of his footsteps and the beats of his heart for company. Every time a noise reached his ears, he felt as if he were freezing in place. What if it was him?

He shook his head. Impossible; Gellert wasn’t stupid enough to show up in the safest place in Britain.

Or maybe he was, after all.

As he turned a corner, he froze: a silhouette he knew all too well stood before him, back straight and head held high.

Those mismatched eyes, he had dreamed of them.

He had also had nightmares about them.

He took on a neutral expression while discreetly pulling his wand from his sleeve.

“Gellert.”

“Albus…” The man before him stepped forward, his white hair shining in the moonlight.

The redhead recoiled.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

“I think, on the contrary, that I am perfectly where I need to be,” he said, a smirk on his face.

Dumbledore’s heart skipped beats. Grindelwald had always had that effect on him.

“You’re mistaken.”

The man with the mismatched eyes slowly advanced toward Dumbledore, who was only a few steps away from him.

The man did not move, waiting to see what the center of his nightmares had planned.

In response, the dark wizard stood simply before him, their faces only a few centimeters apart. Albus could smell the scent he had loved for years. His eyes met Gellert’s, as he discreetly flicked between his gaze and his delicate lips.

“Albus…”

He then saw tears flowing down Gellert’s cheeks. He froze. He could read him like an open book. And written in capital letters.

Grindelwald didn’t wait any longer to throw himself into the arms of the one with whom he had once shared his home.

He buried his face in the crook of Dumbledore’s neck, letting sobs escape the edges of his lips.

Albus wrapped his arms around Grindelwald’s body, in shock.

“What have I done… What have I done, Albus…”

“It’s going to be okay; it’s not your fault…” The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor looked up at the sky outside, swallowing his tears. Seeing the one he still loved in this state never did him any good.

“I’ve… I’ve killed so many people… Just for my personal pleasure, Albus, you can’t tell me it’s not my fault…”

He straightened up, locking his eyes with those of the redhead. He looked devastated, hair disheveled, eyes red from tears, cheeks worn by the salt of them.

“Yes, it is, Gellert, but you thought you were doing good. I can’t blame you. I could never…”

He murmured this last phrase so softly that the man before him struggled to understand what he was saying. He lowered his eyes, a flush rising quickly to his ears as he nervously fiddled with the skin of his nails.

“How can you not blame me… After everything I’ve done… Everything I’ve done to you…”

“I don’t blame you. That’s all.”

The dark wizard nodded.

Several hours earlier, he had faced all of reality head-on. And it hurt far too much for his liking. Everything he had defended, all the values he had upheld, all the choices he had made, he realized he had been wrong on all counts. It was he, the vile being, who was responsible for the destruction and the unacceptably high death toll in the magical world. And he could no longer bear it. In less than four hours, he had dissolved his entire army, hoping for at least a bit of inner peace. But the mistakes he had made were unforgivable; he knew that well. No one could repent for such acts.

He then felt Dumbledore’s eyes on him as he had lowered his head.

“Gellert… Don’t ever leave again.”

He suddenly lifted his head, mouth agape, eyes drowning in a new wave of tears.

“I… I…”

“No… Please, seeing you leave was by far the worst experience of my life…” Dumbledore let a solitary tear fall from his right eye, then took the trembling hands of his soulmate.

“We will get through all of this together. Like before.”

He moved a little closer to Gellert, running a hand through the blond’s hair as the latter took another step forward.

Grindelwald gently grasped Dumbledore by the waist, drawing even closer to him. Their faces were only a few millimeters apart.

The former dark wizard could smell the woody and slightly citrus scent of the one he loved. That scent made him fall a little more in love every second.

Then Albus ended their suffering by placing his lips against those of the man with mismatched eyes, who closed them.

Their kiss was long, infinitely gentle, as Grindelwald made his way with his left hand to the redhead’s hair, while his right hand rested in the small of his back.

Dumbledore clung to Gellert’s neck as if it were a lifeline, while their kiss came to an end. They pressed their foreheads together, gazing into each other’s eyes.

“I will never go that far away from you again.”

“I love you, Gellert… It has always been you.”

“I can’t see myself spending another night away from you… I love you, Albus. Much more than I would like to admit.”

He gave him a slight smile as they both dove back into a more passionate, less melancholic kiss.

It was like the rebirth of a phoenix.

They were going to make it.