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Their spells met, one to kill, one to protect and the pendant of their blood pact broke. Everything faded to grey and only the two of them were left, circling. Almost simultaneously they attacked, fighting more like a dance. Even after so many years they were evenly matched, every attack predicted and evaded; theirs was an old game. Moving in and out but never too far from the other and then – wands pointed - they met. Their positions a mirror of each other, both with a wand to their head and the others hand on their chest. Blue eyes found the mismatched ones of his opponent for just a moment. Pain, longing and so many complicated emotions flickered through Dumbledores mind and over his face before his gaze drifted down to his hand on Grindelwald’s chest. As close as they were, was it imagination that he could feel his heart beat in the same erratic staccato as his own? He chanced a look up and their eyes met again. He wasn’t sure what he saw on that once so familiar face or what Gellert saw on his, but it was enough.
Who moved first, or if they moved at the same time, it didn’t matter. One moment and resting hands turned into strong grips as their bodies met more fully, dragged into the others orbit again, as inevitably as a star too close to a black hole. Their mouths met in a desperate kiss. How many years had it been? All the longing, all the love and hate, the conflict and pain communicated in the press of lips, in the tight hold on one another. Gellert’s other hand found his nape, wand still in his long fingers and brought him in closer still, tilting his head gently for a better angle, discarding his hat to the ground. Albus’ own hand found a smooth jaw, caressing and just holding on, letting himself be consumed by the kiss. After what felt an eternity and too short at the same time, they broke apart, both gasping for air. The weight of the moment tense in the air as their foreheads connected, both sets of eyes closed to savour the sensation. All too soon reality came crashing back, and once again their gazes found each other. Albus was sure his face was an open book to Gellert, showing his devastation just as he could clearly read the surprise in his once lover’s face. Just like all those years ago he was spellbound by his once best friend and closest partner.
“Gellert”, he whispered brokenly, tears threatening to spill as he felt the immense weight of the feelings, he still held for the man, clench around his heart.
“it’s too late, Albus”, Gellert answered wistfully.
And he knew it well, they both knew. Years upon years ago their paths had split and now there was no turning back, no way to undo what had been done, and yet.
“I don’t care. My heart belongs to you even now.”, he tried for one last desperate moment to plead with this brilliant man that had captured him so fully from the moment they first met.
“Albus…”, Gellert closed his eyes and when he opened them again, they were hard as he pushed away his feelings as he did his other half, shoving the other man back.
“It is too late” he repeated as the spell snapped and the world around them came crashing back.
Dumbledore stumbled a few steps back, hurt by the renewed betrayal of the one man who meant more to him than everything else.
Around him a commotion had broken out, a celebration of the election of their next leader. Albus hardly cared, eyes still fixed on Gellert. Alone he stood now and soon all mages present advanced on him. Always with a flair for dramatics he spoke his last words to the crowd, before letting himself fall backwards and out of sight. Even though he felt his presence disappear and knew he had escaped, the sight sent a spike of dreadful panic through Dumbledores heart. Still, he could not allow himself to show it, too many eyes around to catch his weakness. Slowly, he went to pick up his hat and the broken vessel of the blood pact, putting it in his breast pocket, where Gellert had just held him.
His brother was a bit away, talking with his long-lost son. It should elicit at least some emotion in him, to see his nephew so close to death and yet he felt frozen to the core, the renewed loss of Gellert too much to bear. He knew that now he had no reason to refuse the ministry his assistance in hunting down the wanted criminal. It was as Gellert had said, too late.