A burning summer

20th June 1899

A couple of quiet but tense days passed. The Dumbledore siblings passed them around the house, together, and Albus forced himself to do all the housework without allowing his thoughts to formulate even a single complaint.

The air was heavy in the house and had it not been for Ariana, the only one who seemed to truly appreciate the time they spent together, there would probably have been fire and sparks between the two brothers.

Each evening, when their sister was already asleep, Aberforth brought up the question of school and declared with the stubbornness of a goat that if he were to be sent back to Hogwarts, he would have to be put under the Imperius curse.

Albus thought he did it on purpose so as not to allow him even a peaceful night's sleep. He stifled his screams with whispers that made his throat burn, so as not to wake Ariana, and night after night he repeated to his brother that if he wanted to take care of the family properly, not finishing his education was not an option. Aberforth was adamant.

After that scene of muffled screams had repeated itself for the third evening in a row, that night Albus tossed and turned in his bed restlessly. It was too hot, or maybe it was the anger that still filled his head and heart, in any case he got out of bed and moved to the open window.

He couldn't stand it anymore, he just wanted to turn the wheel of a time turner and relive his years at Hogwarts all over again, playing quidditch and having fun with friends. He thought of Elphias and the wonderful things he was probably seeing, learning and discovering around the world; how much he lacked someone to talk to freely, to be simply a carefree young man!

He looked at the constellation of the essayer that could be seen in the black summer sky and finally he could no longer dismiss the thought that he had been ready to fill his mind at any moment in the last three days. : Gellert Grindelwald. His dark eye was as deep as that night sky.

He desperately needed to get lost in those wonderful talks that had started that day in the alleys of Godric's Hollow, he took pen and parchment.

"Dear Mr. Grindelwald," he began, but it immediately struck him as incredibly ridiculous. In fact, they had known each other for very little, but on the other hand, within a few hours they had already been on a first name basis.

"Dear Gellert," he tried again, but for some reason he felt his face getting hot and red, far too intimate.

"Gellert," he finally decided.

"I know it's mad to send you a letter at this time of night, but I can't sleep peacefully and so you'll have the refreshing news of finding a letter at breakfast tomorrow morning.

I realize I should have done this sooner, however I apologize for my abrupt leave a few days ago. It's a bit of a tough time for me and I wanted to spend some time here at home, although I admit I probably spent more time wishing to come knock on Bathilda's house than anything else.

I would like to see you again and talk, I hadn't had such a stimulating exchange in a long time. I hope you can say the same and that you want to repeat the experience.

Albus Dumbledore "

He handed the envelope to the owl without rereading it and giving himself a chance to reconsider, then he let himself fall on the bed with a sigh: there was nothing left to do but wait for the dawn and hope that his new acquaintance would not be mad at him.

He fell into a strange state of semi-sleep. He watched the ceiling with his eyes open, but at the same time his mind was not fully awake.

At one point he registered a shadow which gradually grew larger as it approached his window. He jumped to his feet remembering just in time not to make any noise and grabbed the envelope from the owl's beak.