He Who Walks Between Worlds

Gay Demigods are to be Feared

Beginning Notes

I added a scene to the previous chapter, so if you read that chapter before this one was published, you probably want to read it again so you have some clue what's going on.

I don't own anyone.

This story takes place sometime in the 2010s, like the Percy Jackson books, rather than in the 1980s like the Harry Potter books. Dumbledore's age is never stated in the books, so in this fic, he's in his 90s.

Nico

"How did you know that?" Nico was frantically going through possibilities. It wasn't time yet. No one was supposed to know until after Voldemort was defeated. Had Hermione and Michael figured it out? Or maybe Dumbledore had known all along. Since the beginning, Nico had ben suspicious that Dumbledore wasn't more suspicious.

"I didn't," Dumbledore said, "but I guessed, and my guesses are generally good."

Nico rolled his eyes. "How did you guess, then?"

"When I was young, Dumbledore began, "just finished with school at Hogwarts, I met a boy. As smart, as talented, as ambitions as I was, he was still better. He was smarter, more talented, more ambitious. He had a natural affinity for magic, that, try as I might, I could not compete with.

"We first met when I was visiting a family friend; he was staying with her. The rumours said that he had been expelled from Durmstrang for dark magic. I didn't listen; I had experienced first-hand how rumours could distort a situation. From the moment we met, I could feel--something. I knew that we were going to change the world. We were rivals, at first, but soon we became friends. I was fascinated by him; the attraction, I believe, was mutual. What we felt for each other was stronger than anything I have ever felt before or since. The word 'friends' cannot even begin to describe our relationship. He was closer than a friend, closer even than a brother."

Dumbledore trailed off, wistfully gazing off into the distance. Nico tried to be sympathetic, but he really wasn't sure what Dumbledore's boyfriend had to do with him.

"We were so close, he trusted me with his greatest secret. He was not a wizard. He was the child of one of the Greek gods. His mother was Hecate, goddess of magic. He opened a whole new world to me. He explained how the gods were real, how they would sire children, then let them fend for themselves. He told me about the monsters. He warned me that I and my family, being wizards and thus not fully mortal, might be in danger, if a monster found him while he was with us. I didn't listen. How could I desert him after this? I should have listened to him. 

"Two months later--two months! How could have so much happened in so little a time?--the end came. We were at my house, talking, planning, exchanging ideas and enchantments, when what he had feared occurred. A monster came. It was a chimera. I cannot say exactly what happened. It was as if a cloud was drawn before my gaze. I could, if I strained, see past the images I knew to be false, but just barely. This I do know. Gellert, for that was my friends name, fought and slew the beast. But by the end, my sister, my beloved sister Ariana, was dead.

"I blamed him. We fought, and he left Godric's Hollow. Later, I repented my rash words, but I knew not where he had gone. I had been somewhat of a moderating influence on him; the rumours about his use of dark magic were not entirely false. I had encouraged him to use it only for virtuous ends. Now, with me gone, he became less restrained. Soon, his name began to be mentioned. Gellert Grindelwald became known throughout Britain as a powerful dark wizard.

"I tried to stop him. I sent letter after letter, I tried to contact him, but he never got them, or he had not forgiven me for words I had spoken in grief and anger. As he grew more terrible and more feared, I knew that it was my duty to stop him. I could not hide in the shadows, making defensive spells and refusing to face the consequences of my actions.

"We dueled. I won. I admit, I was surprised. I had expected his natural abilities to overpower me immediately. But he had grown overconfident, and I had prepared, while he had not. He was imprisoned, and I became famous. I had defeated a dark wizard more dreadful and awesome than Voldemort is today.

"You may ask why I am telling you this."

Nico indeed was wondering why "my boyfriend was a demigod" couldn't have sufficed.

"You remind me of him. I know, better than most, that power is neither inherently good nor evil, and that those powers which we call the 'dark arts' are not all evil, if not used for evil ends. But I suspect that your knowledge of and affinity for necromancy is not through study. I would caution you to be wary. Do not fall into the trap that he and I once did, that the ends justify the means, and that anything is justified, if it is for the greater good."

Nico couldn't decide whether he wanted to laugh or yell. Dumbledore was . . . not as bad as some things he'd heard, but equating him with an evil wizard who happened to be a child of Hecate because they were both demigods and could do 'dark magic' was new. Nico could literally not help it. He was born that way.

"I will do my best not to be an evil dark wizard who tries to take over England," Nico said. "But I really should leave now. To like, defeat that other dark wizard who is currently trying to do so."

"Very well," Dumbledore said. "I wish you well. If you have need of the aid of the rest of the Order, you are welcome to it."

"Thanks." Nico grabbed his bag, and left the room.

Outside, the air was cool. The night was dark, away from electric lights, and Nico could see the stars, and the milky way. He could hear the wind rustling the trees of the Forbidden Forest, and smell the slightly noisome scent of the lake. He could sense the ghosts moving in the castle, and the thestrals in the forest, as well as a general warm, humming feeling from the mass of souls inside the castle. For a minute, he hesitated, looking back at the place he had stayed for the last two months. The castle was dark, blending into the night sky. If it were not for the stars it blocked, and the occasional twinkle of a candle, someone with worse night vision than Nico might have had trouble determining the borders. The sweeping buttresses, the high towers, the great halls looked as something out of a storybook. Nico felt a twinge of regret for leaving it behind. He had been happy there, happier than he had been since Bianca had died. But it wasn't his place to stay, to repair his friendships and learn magic. Hard as it may be, it was his duty to save all the innocent, oblivious Michaels and Colins and Lunas who would be harmed if Voldemort was allowed to continue. 

He pulled the metal earplug out of his ear. If he was leaving, he didn't need to appease Michael anymore. But somehow his hand slowly moved, without him deciding to do so, to put it back in his ear. When was the last time he had been given something? Admittedly, this wasn't exactly a present, but something still twisted unpleasantly inside of him when he thought to throw it away.

And so it was, that as he shadow travelled away, carrying his backpack, with his robes left in his room, and wearing his skull ring once more, that he carried a vestige of his time at Hogwarts with him.

End Notes

So what do you think? It's a little different than my usual style of writing--it's a bit more verbose and a bit more thoughtful as well. It was fun to write, and I feel like it fits Dumbledore. 

I don't have a funny thing today, but please comment and vote. Thanks!