This one's a short chapter for y'all. You know by this point that I didn't draw the fanart.
Gellert made his way quickly to his great-aunt's house, and wasted no time as he told Bathilda that he wanted to leave at once. Luckily, she asked no questions, and set about to make a portkey.
Gellert left her doing that, and went straight up to his room, where he hastily packed all this things into the few suitcases he owned. As he packed, he looked up out of his window, where he could see Albus' own small window; one Gellert himself had climbed through more than once.
He hadn't even said goodbye. He almost had, but he knew it would just make everything harder. Because if Albus wasn't his companion, he would have to be his rival, as Gellert knew that Albus would be the only one with the power to stand against him.
Gellert swallowed down the sharp pain that rose in his throat at the thought, looking down at the silver Blood Pact now in his hand as he waved his wand at the now packed suitcases and sent them flying down the stairs.
He knew it was foolish, but he hoped that their paths would never cross again, for both of their sakes. Even though, deep down, he knew that eventually, they would meet again.
With a deep sigh, Gellert tore his eyes away from that little window, and turned to follow his suitcases down the stairs, tucking the little silver phial into his pocket.