Born in a well known family to the Wizardly World and I would wish to skip this part as is filled with tragedy within his family and reputation as such, he learned to cover and silence the difficulties becoming the best student that ever stepped in Hogwarts school. You might know the goodness of his is elder years, his Machiavelli art to pull the strings within in the political marks to direct history, but in his young adulthood he was driven by power and had his flaws. And I will tell you that he did firmly believe till his last day in the Greater Good and its sacrifices.
It was when he graduated that he started to pursued a political interest writing for the press, sharing his debates to shape a Wizardly society aiming to tackle for the interest of the whole, and meeting Gellart Grindelwald led him to believe in the totalitarian domination to brake through the oppression of hiding from the muggler world, rules and values to obtain over the Ministry of Magic by force and restore it. The ideals of order and hierarchical condescendence are actually socialist in his belief as a vivacious enthusiast. After his sister's death some say he killed her in a confrontation with other two, for this reason he never took a position in the Ministry of Magic shaped him to think further, more than doing daily social acts. Many say it was for his guilt and cowardice to use his power, for what happened to his sister and love affair. This lost drove hid him closer to find new solutions.
Nor the less, had find a great gap of 40 years from his young adulthood to 60 years were this relation cuts to extremes by the abrupt ongoing confrontations within the inner circle of such political movements. A mentor of his Armando Dippet, HeadMaster of Hogwarts alerted him to keep a guard on his intellectual artistry to study in the free time the school granted him, deepen and dive into books and find new theories and new methods. Being not fond of the public light, not even to his close friends or colleges found solace in the studies of the Dark Arts to alleviate the lost and wisdom to travel along distances, self thought and spaces in time.
Master in the in the arts of Transfiguration.
"You just don't simply become a potato or another person, you have to feel it and become it, channeling might be a possession of all sorts but how can you if you don't mirror the other as your own. What is the need to transform things, change them if you don't feel them as part of your own?" He replied to his Professor accommodating his hands in his pocket as if the class was over.
It was not the way he was instructed to learn as the transfigurations of entities would take only a short moment, few minutes, no more than ten, unless you knew what he was talking about, people were stuck in character and believe, and it might had been the way he had progress in the world with his affairs the ones who helped him to deal away from pain, becoming hidden and occult to the eye of every pact, ship-shaping, till now, no one really knows. Other abilities:
Alchemist, Occlumency (telepathy) Invisibility, teleportation, Charms (magic spells), Astronomy, Potions, Arithmacy (magical properties with numbers, what I call Intelligent algorithms) Curse breaker, Parceltone (ability to talk with snakes) and Seer. Defence against the dark arts.
Holding the feather before the thin paper, Albus placed the little glass jar of Ink or his upper right side of the desk, pinching the blue liquid with his feather, paused with another hand palming the clear paper, anew, writing a letter to HYDRA leaders, addressing the correspondence to Captain Steve Rogers broke a spell so he could enter in the studies of political engineer and scientist research adding weight for the fascist to empower order in the 6th Dimension to structure a chaotic state. His intuition bypassed time frames finding Thanos a threat with the Avengersand other entities as such a lack of will, in individuals who little understood of death, time alignment and the power of it's magic, that to him is commune sense for the right.
The mist continued to pile on the grass, standing before the window my heart vapours, the stars overhead shimmered its illumination looks gnashed and lambert with moonlight, is has been a long time since I don't search into the night sky. And I know why this rawness is standing with binocular after that memory in Godric's Hallow town. I was just a teen who graduated from Hogwarts when I started to see high above all things, my heartbeat took over with fascination over you Gellert. Nights completed our meetings, every night at the outdoors of our conquest were the youth conveys comprehension to be free in the dense silver carpet, under the trees. Could not believe my mother had died when you replaced a sight in me, a touch, that docile smile and temper. Your sense of direction so immune to any existence apart, and the mist always that mist at this hour, reached in the moisture sheltered by the universe when you spoke For The Greater Good, becoming inseparable.
I had seen an equal not only mentally but, more than friends my breath stiffed in my lung for the memory in my body for when there was expansion, our intuitions grew and maybe we did terrible things, innocent to believe we were true.
Now, your name all over the news.
Untouched by the mist, held my arms folding them across my chest as if this gripped emotions I could hold by locking my elbows. They made me aware of the passages I will face, but you are going so far, in a trancelike I think of you my friend, the vapour seems to have consumed half of the night, at least to know that you are free. Turned down my sight happening to anchor for oxygen if I held you now instead of the MASUCA getting you, caught like a criminal. You knew it in your dreams, you will follow them with any obstacles, hardly my back and shoulders cast emanations of strain as if I'm inside your body. "Have courage my friend"
Its him who made Dumbledore, Dumbledore. I will never recover from that day my brother got us, and why would I? Ariadna needed me, she stood in between to stop the fight, in laps of seconds all I ever desired, she was trembling and all the terrible things I have seen with her, how my mother died, how we hided the truth for the family status, it was a lie, she could't control it. And you were pushed away from me, like a criminal, again.
It transcended logic, we won't be able to stop them and you will prove me to be stronger. And I still believe in you, in the impossible. Did not move bowing to the moon and to many other names from the dead "No!" When you had opened for me the secrets of the Deadly Hallows, could not help myself nodding went to drink water and light a cigarette with dumbfounded eyes searching in the smoke for the illusion of a result nodding like a puppet with a broken heart. "Have courage, remain present my friend" It was like draining his magic made mine impotent too, the guards, he is mirroring the guards, the one who controls you, can free you. You can't stay there for long my friend it has only stop the magic from the body.
The cold mist clog into my bones, the narrow of the windows in this old building come through as had aspired like a madman to curse aloud, I swore to him. My fingers vent towards my palm tightly slamming the table with the fist. Why? Wanted to storm and rave and if I can't make you mine, you have to do it your way. I was going to lose him no matter what. Thudded my back against the wall and fought to keep my grief and bitterness, was I zealous too of his freedom and abilities, was I not guarding him well. Was it enough our meetings and could only weep like an imbecile for this acute void, the greater is this relationship the greater its distance.
The way of the hope and doom, for a moment in an instance of insanity because what do I have if I can't let go of it, following the foot steps of some old seer were privation refines the soul for my body has no other choice and walked to the mirror.
When you touch without moving and pronouncing an effect was a blessing to his abstract taunt and weary muscles promising a vertigo and drank from his spirit profoundly were the knot in my soul loosened more than a bit, no cuts, no splits, the separation is an illusion were everything that orbits this atom will contradict us, will I die in you my friend, or will you first. He accepted the offer of this space and he stayed a few steps away to my greatest fear to move shoulder to shoulder because is this reflection who broad each other the wear minds who had made him to mine, would not destroy what I love to the shadows of each other's secret. And I said to myself.
The air is fresh there so I focused on his guidance driving the car before any wizardly revelation, encountering many mugglers in the streets singing rap, ladies in shorts on skates, some holding all sorts of flags for equality and shouting for freedoms, "I'm too strict for this Tobias, were are you taking me?" Then as summer drove and he drop no sweat under his goth clothing, admired the funeral expression in his drive saying. "You are very funny"
Using college drawings, what an intelligent ability for schooling... how well instructed for the level of artistry in regards to the children, I like that playfulness touch.
At the dinner the waitress leaves the meals and us alone, why would she care on my order and for who is sexier? I would spank her arse if I was in one of the europeans S&M night clubs I often reoccur, calmly stood still to the "me too" movements and carried on, he then eats the plain pancake aside a glass of water, it unhindered my imagination, watched him amid the blazed of my" tres leches and salad" I'm going to get you back on that, thoughtfully admired the way he wished to sprinkle with smoothy... what's that?... jelly! on his dish, he is so sexy smacking crazy. "Of course you are beautiful Serverus, you don't need to diet on a dead corpse, I know is not a bow of poor choices you are taking." Might be very severe for how serious I got, how much beauty is found in my perversions, meaning for, per say the version of his.
So I set there with my flower shirt I still thought was under a suit in great Brit, never mind. "Before returning to Howgarts, girls and moms coming to my office asking for your private classes?" We probably looked like a gay married couple of those in USA, but Armando Dipped had an investigation on me as well. At this, presumed that the lady seating in the near table was coming, yes she stood up and glanced her hair away from her shoulder coming forward, asking him for an autograph, blushing, so he did and left pushing her schooling mini skirt up.
The mouths were unleashed. "What? You told them I massage Minerva? Since when have you seeing her face? That was Queenie?" Smiled grandly for they had cut the shoot when we met in Paris.
Days latter, because I have agreed the final number and sequence of images for a class, divide into small groups or pairs to produce on, or two the whole class version, was not funny, as we pushed the teams harder and harder till exhaustion, freaking out of the teachers. And I mean for history class on magic, nothing metaphorical.
Need a shower, this is so dirty that I had censored 69% and the 31% is still hanging out, tss..
Stood in the shower rubbing the foam, rinsing, let me laugh because this is too much on the physical conflagration of wild magic, it seared my body to feel for them. Dressed up, in the alone time studied the death, if to recover my sister Ariadna for many years, it was secret, might have been alone in the fire, or pretending to run a doctorate investigation under my spectres screaming in soul anguish. But the screaming was also laughter and it prevailed even if was only for me and there was no jokes to be shared. I had no bodies that could be hug, yet the laughter stayed with me, joy and restitution. So, I went in return to a favour to Tobias, asking the federal laws a permit, papers, protocols and cordial regards for the exhumation of the coffin from dear Lilly Potter's corpse.
"Good Lord Tobias, you will have to bake your bread in that cold oven" Thanotophilia if to explain, forgive me if I won't, this is a casual work aside the schooling. "Love can be cruel, and love has no boundaries when you see Harry's eyes as his mom and yet silent everything you wen't through with my little Riddle.
Next day because we all need a brake, he entered the bathroom and saw how much I care.
Just having a casual friend over, my gaze was ambiguous. the sunrise had laid across the same world, if we shared anything, besides stories for the kids, watching them grow, gauging the limits of the magical endurance. I wish my mother could see how far we wen't and the achievements of man behind the doors, grooming for a better class, sighed, frowned and fell silent, looking away to the Wizardly Press, trying to catch up the pick of a political outburst with the right spell to pay the amends the past left, if you got to see the impact of the Greater Good you are in the right page.
For a time, closed all the books, left them behind, there are many more to read, is not easy to let go of them, I want to be empty of knowledge become a passage, tell you all to never change but for the ex-change itself, once it happens there is nothing else to let go, but aloud through. I promise on to you that every striving bit and second, you are counted, even when it's unseen, you are beautiful.
Walking through the corridors of Hogward's school, dumbling beyond a path that seem as strange as the first year. The gloom gathered a still deeper crossed hallways which opening door, after door, that I did know considered to keep going till I reached the studio of Armando Pippet. Approached to the handler of the door at 5 o'clock as he appointed me, drawing my hand to my pocked watch a sentimental gift from my father Percival Dumbledore, those thinner arrows marked the seconds pinning minute after minutes driving me to places were I wish time advanced further. It's not true, I would rather be permitting to his knowledge than doing it by myself and there carried along the times, second after second for which words will sound eerie for those I might ply.
It could have been the parts who hurried me to found going downwards in the countless twilight halls, that door, this door I'm to knock were a valley I could filled almost entirely with the courage of a changing seasons, drifted over as a slender nude branch to the nearing winter, ready to pause a sound, on time. Knock, knock.
"Albus?" The lowest voice of him as pushing the handler while pocket the watch back through that space of his. "Yes? is me." Slowly unsound turned the handler a curve down. "Come in... please." Did he pull me into the bottom of his old age as the door opened by itself from me that glowing tinkle whom showed out his smile, that settle expression of his. "How long it took you?" An unusual flow of company as I was visible to him appeared as It seem, he waited too. From seat to seat, in all his classes and now under his direction, nodded gently to seat again. That aura of contentment when he brushed his long beard, the same old man who drove me to the chambers of perversion to find some of the deadly harrows. I'm so innocent to believe that my arrival had lighted a kind of fire.
Seat quietly, I don't know if it's old age but he really does look like a baby, if I tell him the political outburst in the Wizardly World and the merge of my intentions, he is somewhere else.
"So? You still plan on your vacation to the Swizz Alps?" Curving his body towards the desk between us. It's difficult to say when there is nothingness in the air. "I still sense a threat, the always threat that he can destroy me." Incorporating an essential dimension, not of the past drizzling rain of my face, it punctuated me aligning the posture of my body as he read the ambiguity of mine.
"There will be an intention to inflict pain by loosing everything and becoming part, is not two drops of blood in one when one dies to exist in another, then look in the mirror and kill is holding your greatest fear." Spreading my legs as sliding down the chair breathed bravely. "
"I want to be alone, like you, to listen at the noises of the children playing in the background, the Wizardly World seems to be as corrupted and isolated as yesterday under the burning Witches and Wizards. I'm right to be listened on the banking system of Switzerland of magic." He attuned at the sound of fiction as my voice collided in his well vivid knowledge where the rulers of the money bill's machine is.
"You have the connections Albus, is not too late, any next minute another hour and year will pass, a century perhaps and someone will do it, is not about the time frame of when or how it shall appear. It's about you merging with your amends."
That truly hit the threshold of disconformity in that brake of sedimentary sequence which does not involve me, seating straight up again to get my grades. "And the combining zealous work ethic, is not all about achieving magic and power of distinction, the magic show is tiring. What will the children know if we keep hiding them to the muggler world? To stop their imagination from conducting energy? Just among us? To go across acting along the mugglers as they do while we kill each other for not being whom we truly are? Upon which man and woman are they growing to be too? What would I desire most than fulfilling Grindelwald's impetus for the Greater Good? And I know, is not him I want to see as twisted and empty he is to not have trust, because for him is about him and is impossible to belong to someone after I had found myself."
Visibly there was to his full interest as the Headmaster of Hogward, he sensed the many times I had rejected to be director of the Ministry of Magic, as if battering small coins onto him as much defaced my integrity was to speak such words. Armando Pippet truly belong from another generation in the last three centuries for him to keep the flame of magic alive, was barely enough to achieve and assemble this walls in order to protect it. Joyously of course, that southern European Spanish master of mine steering at me from aside an antic escritoire whom at the hazards of life, wished me to be him. "At the charge of my E X C E L L E N C E." He said, at this point could see that I'd die like him, but yet there is always one who will do it for me as old I was, I would support me if I was him. "Yes, why would you sponsor me in this trip?" Replied as if kneeling for a word. "Go, to your class in the arts of transfiguration and dismantle the mirror and tell your journey what you see, if it's so badly what your hiding and yet wanted, face it"
He imitated the action as a master being forward from the copy of another tutor he had, could recognized by the second the cheap philosophy in which I let my students block me, from a question that can be a course such as a miracle. And if I say it, the spell will brake their reality to believe they can have it their way.
So we stood in salute and he gave me a wrapped book to read on my journey and hugged me patting my shoulder, caressing my forehead with a motionless correspondence, nearing me to him, induced his finger in my third eye slowly uprising by the touch of his close magic till the edge of my hair, that hair line I was just starting to loose and felt young again as a child of his to seek in what's the greater good for the wizardly he fought to prevail and to the mundane world of wonders.
"Thank you" What last words could I say. And once again passed his door dumbled along the corridor a little richer with his touch and book for I certainly rumbled as a tipsy man, finally that he could rest his evening in peace made it to the class room.
And if I'm to describe what I see, the veils unfolded after I hanged my jacket and rolled my sleeves with sweat on my palms, unbuttoned the neck of my garment, drinking the water who humidify my mouth. As the village runs to look for a gossip, mouthful my lips drew a negative down. That fear to be known by the darkness of this prison.
"I'm so gay of you my friend, happy if there is any meaning that for today only exists. For those were the days and it feels forever to maintained" Gellert, there I see him, high up in the glass and aside, he regards for a long time with out a swung, and who am I anyways when the mirror looks to another mirror, nothing. Soiled by any Illusion's word or spiritual symbolism, dissolved by the questioner. Winded by a long road in which we never meet and yet more than a brother he still searched for me in the impossible, to prove me he is better to have never love another as thy self. "You are just a bittersweet intensity, If I give myself to you, you win."
Days latter on the way to Switzerland, left that book in a bookstore's shelve.
Things were looking pretty bad, again, the professors had a few hours of interval and was nearly tired out, I was able to stand up firmly after last night confrontation. Brushed the 3 pieces of my suit, again and again, my hands rubbed away the sense of that impulsive aggression whom killed him slowly, swirling inside, numb with censorship, watching vigilant to not feel. Soon they will be overpowered as long as you can keep your chin up on my side to become benevolent to the crowd, on yours seductive for the suppress desires you ignite in the magic spell of freedom.
If I must look in the goodness of others, the reservations to maintain myself just correct, content as it's a fragile skin of mine covered with a wall of rejections, as thick as this Castle of Hogwarts, as I belong to the Institution it defends me, it protects me. It formed me into the secrets, every now and then, I held another secret of yours, but you, how do you dare the coming entrance. It's as if my soul can enrich you from the Crimes you are to pay, my beloved friend.
When I reappeared towards the window, holding the bone colour velvet curtain with darkish read and pale green stripes, tightened into my fist wishing to be hissing curses of horror, to stop it, but I dared to not come very near of that memory it seem to take hours to have escape from the idea of an existing phenomena, could not lift my hand, godless and for a single moment. Trapped in his retainment. "You know how to free your self, you were as good as me in the arts of transmutation." Letting go, a few steps away for the disturbing thought going through my mind with a raw powerful tension which debilitated my nerves to hold back as I tensed my body, the blistering rain in the shut window unmistakably banged by the wind reframing it's repeating sounds.
My fingers twisted searching while I turned towards the table, dropping the ink, letting my hand guide towards the potion as my other palm sustained me and inhaling to regain power remembered that means nothing, drink it or not, it will continue. So, I stared at the tinny bottle behind the pillar of books set at the edge of the table and seat down demolished.
There was a letter from the far corner heading the door, someone must have left it there, it read From Irma Prince, thinking straight, that is the librarian. I turned away with an air of indifference, if I don't hear from the American Ministry of Magic, seated motionless, the air shimmers with electric charge.
"Nothing." Handled the potion from my far arm, stretching out, unfocused. "If someone could read my mind, nothing!" Drink at once arresting the pain. "Very soon, I must walk out there and smile as nothing is happening with a sharp mind to silence into the believe of nothingness, because that is all I want them to have from me, but you? You have to do it your way? To get my attention." I could sense the chariot riding through the storms, making up its path through murder for the greater good, onto me.
Holding the feather before the thin paper, placed the little glass jar of Ink up pinching the leftover ink, paused with other hand palming the clean paper, anew by the medicine, wrote a letter to Percival Graves of the American Ministry, asking him to meet in Zürich, Switzerland.