AN:/ Crack bunnies got ahold of me.


It has been a few months since Gellert was imprisoned, as far as he can tell. Sometimes he isn't entirely sure, as the long stretches of days bleeding into nights with nothing but his own thoughts, has left his impeccably sharp mind a little muddled.

It is yet another evening of glaring up to the sinfully plain stretch of cobbled stone above his cot, counting the minute cracks in the ceiling as he bitterly wishes he at least had a book to occupy the time. There was only so many times one could recite the many passages of thrilling sagas one had memorized from their favourite stories before the novelty wore off.

Gellert sighs to himself, mildly, as he hears the familiar sound of approaching footsteps, knowing he won't be getting anything more pleasant than a block of stale bread and a rather questionable chunk of cheese for dinner. The same, boring routine.

"Good evening, Gellert."

He tilts his head up slightly, and looks up to the source of the voice in bemusement, "Come to admire your work finally, I see."

"I'm afraid not," Albus says in a pleasant tone. He tilts himself slowly on the balls of his feet, with a cordial smile, as he admires the dimly lit sconce in the corridor, "What might you say if I proposed an intriguing scheme that requires your devoted attention and participation?"

"I'd say that I have more than enough free time, what with my early retirement, Albus," Gellert says dryly, "but I'm not particularly interested in whatever ploys you might need my assistance in."

Albus hums in disappointment, as he moves towards the cell, "Shame. Would it peak your interest to know that it involves your untimely death and perhaps a release in your current predicament?"

Gellert scoffs, and drops back onto his lumpy pillow. "I'm afraid I'm not quite desperate enough to seek death just yet, but if you come back in a few years-" Gellert stops himself. He laughs suddenly, as it dawns on him. Sitting up in his cot, he eyes Albus's twinkling gaze, "Ah, I see," Gellert says appreciatively, "Very clever, Albus. I didn't think you'd have it in you. So tell me - what's the plan?"

Albus looks entirely pleased with himself, and Gellert quite thinks devious scheming is a good colour on him. "All we need is a body."

"I could make one for you," Gellert suggests.

"No." Albus replies flatly, "We need everyone to believe that you really are dead, setting off alarm bells will just raise suspicion."

"You're no fun," Gellert says glumly.

Albus just gazes at him, undeterred, "There will be no fun. You need a simple, clean death."

"You aren't suggesting that I have the world believe I killed myself, are you?" Gellert says, affronted, "I do have some pride, you know."

"No, natural causes will suffice."

"How do I die, then?"

"Heart failure," Albus says simply.

"I beg your pardon?" Gellert says, scandalised, "At least make it something original, something with intrigue! Could we do murder?" he asks hopefully.

"No murder," Albus replies, "we really don't want this to turn into an ongoing investigation."

Gellert scoffs. "You think they're going to waste time investigating my murder? You're deluded."

"Yes, I am a bit biased." Albus quirks his lips.

"Oh come on, at least give my death a little more excitement," Gellert huffs in irritation, "Manslaughter?"

"I hardly think you would be snuffed out by accident."

"Quite right," Gellert hums, "I'm hardly incapable, even without a wand. I'm more likely to be murdered." He looks pointedly at Albus.

"Alright, say you were to be suffocated to death by your pillow-" Albus suggests, with a wry smile, "-how's that for murder?"

Gellert scowls. Then he perks up, "Killing curse?"

"No unforgivables. No excitement. We really don't want attention if this somehow - though very unlikely - goes wrong."

"Yes, well, it should take something significantly stronger than a pillow to kill me. It needs to be a plausible death."

Albus mulls this over. "Choking?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Look," Albus sighs, "it doesn't really matter how we execute your death. The point is, you will be a free man- well, as free as a man on the run can be, anyhow- and you'll never have to dwell on any of this again."

"This is my legacy we're talking about, of course I'm going to think about it again!" Gellert grumbles as he swings himself out of his cot and begins to pace his cell.

"Gellert- focus! That doesn't matter, we need to figure out a long term plan."

Gellert pauses, and looks over in disbelief, "You didn't already come up with a plan?"

"Well, yes - but I'm hardly planning to hide you in my office for the rest of your life."

"Good, I think I'd prefer death over living in a school," Gellert mutters with distaste.

Albus huffs in irritation, "Why do you always say that like it's some horrible-"

"No, no, no!" Gellert loudly interrupts, "I'm not listening to any more of your lengthy professor rants about the importance of a good education - that is absolutely not part of the bargain."

"Well, yes," Albus says flatly, "That is rather the point."

"Can we go to Germany?" Gellert peers at him hopefully.

Albus shakes his head, "I think it would be better if we left the continent."

Gellert narrows his eyes, "If you say America..."

"No, I was-"

"Wait!" Gellert stops his pacing, and approaches the bars, "If you're planning on disappearing right after my murder-"

"Death," Albus corrects.

"-wouldn't that raise said alarm bells you seem to be so concerned over?" Gellert raises a brow.

"No," Albus scoffs, "Do give me some credit. I've been applying to an array of wizarding schools in various countries, while spreading the word that I've been seeking a fresh start. It's quite plausible really, what with the whole debacle of saving all wizard-kind from your wrath, and all that hogwash. I also purchased a property across the country a month ago," Albus says with a shrug, "I'll just move again."

Gellert peers at him curiously, "How long have you been planning this exactly?"

"About a month."

"And you've thought this through, have you?"

"I have."

Gellert hesitates for a moment, "...and you're certain?"

Albus huffs, and folds his arms, "Would I be here if I wasn't?"

Gellert tilts his head back and forth, and reasons, "Well I have known you to do relatively drastic things on a whim before-"

"Right-" Albus cuts him off impatiently, "The point Gellert, is that I have found a remote village for us on the other side of the world, if that's what you want. You'd have to change your appearances in public and your name, stay away from wizarding places-"

"I'm not living with muggles," Gellert says pointedly.

"I'm not asking you to," Albus replies, "As I said, it's remote. The village centre is half a mile away, no neighbours, lots of mountains and trees. It's quite lovely actually."

Gellert ponders this for a long time, then says, "Alright, but about my murder-"

"Death, Gellert - we are not murdering you!" Albus says impatiently.

"But what if I want to be murdered?" Gellert replies stubbornly, "Think about it, there is more than enough motive for anyone to want to kill me, and these damn alarm bells you keep going on about could be the perfect distraction while we get away, everyone would be none the wiser once we're gone!"

Albus sighs. "I just don't understand the appeal. Why do you want to be murdered so badly?"

"Well, I like the idea that I go out in a blaze of glory." Gellert says with a wistful tone, "Maybe I heroically fought off my assailant, and only lost because they had the advantage of magic and three full meals a day! Maybe I tried to fight them off until my last dying breath. Maybe I even permanently maimed them while I tried to gain the upper hand."

"Right," Albus says slowly.

"It's perfectly reasonable, I have done it before, you know."

"Be that as it may, without an actual attacker, or evidence, nobody would know how valiantly you fought against your assassination."

"We could leave a note."

Albus buries his face in his hands, and mutters Merlin, give me the strength, as he pinches the bridge of his nose, "Who, pray tell, leaves a note behind after murdering someone?"

"Someone with a point to prove," Gellert says with an easy shrug, "I have, you know, when I assassinated the head of security in Bulgaria, that spiteful little traitor-"

"It really is a wonder that you didn't end up in prison sooner. Murder notes, I tell you..." Albus continues pinching his nose, and takes a calming breath, "Let it go, Gellert, it is for your own good if you die a simple death. No paper trails, no suspects, no suspicion."

Excitedly, Gellert suddenly slams his fist into the cell bars with a loud clang that echoes through the hall, "Albus, I've got it! What if I die trying to escape? Then my loyal followers will know that I never gave up, not even after being defeated and locked away!"

Albus contemplates this, "Alright. What exactly kills you as you attempt this grand escape then?"

"Your wards try to stop me?" Gellert suggests.

"If anyone bothered checking, they'd see my wards are non lethal."

"Are you saying that I could have been trying to escape this entire time, and your damn wards wouldn't have tried to kill me?"

"I suppose." Albus concedes hesitantly, "They would have stopped you eventually though. Once you hit the outer barriers, you would have been incapacitated."

"How so?"

"Stunned, bound, confunded until someone found you."

"What if nobody came to find me?" Gellert asks curiously.

"I suppose you'd just starve to death."

"No, I absolutely will not besmirch the legendary achievements that I worked so hard for, just to starve to death at the hands of my captors' shoddy wards."

"My wards are impeccable, thank you." Albus sniffs, "In fact, it will take more than a few hours for even me to break them down, once we have everything in place."

"I could try to jump out of the window?"

"There are wards there too, Gellert," Albus says in amusement.

"Fine, then you tell me how I die while trying to escape this damned cell."

"Maybe... You tried digging through the walls, and the roof caved in?"

Gellert scoffs loudly, "Please - this infrastructure is a work of art, I'll have you know. I put quite a lot of effort into ensuring that nobody would be able to knock it down while I was in power. Shame how all that hard work has ended up backfiring in my favour," he mutters.

Albus is gazing along the cell with a furrowed brow, and snaps his gaze to Gellert. "Your elf," he says quietly.

"Kätzchen?" Gellert says in confusion.

"I didn't even consider elf magic in my wards. How very foolish of me," Albus muses as he strokes the length of the bars in thought, "You convince her to bring you a wand. Any wand. Wipe her memory, so she can't be prosecuted or held responsible. She was just following orders, after all. Then you attempt to break the wards, which backfire and, unfortunately, become the cause of your demise."

Gellert mulls this over. "No," he announces, "I can't die with a wand in my hand, I'll be the laughing stock of the wizarding world! Give me some credit, Albus, I'm not incompetent enough to kill myself by accident. Incidentally, you said your wards weren't lethal."

"Without magic, they aren't."

"Well I'm not taking my chances then, what if the wards actually kill me?"

Albus sighs, "I suppose you're right."

"Oh come on," Gellert groans in frustration, "Why not just murder me then? Please?"

"No," Albus says dully.

"Albus, I never ask you for anything, please let me be murdered," Gellert says pleadingly, "It's all I want!"

"No!"

"A noble man deserves a noble death!" Gellert argues, "You can't feasibly tell me that anyone would expect less of me!" He pauses, to shoot Albus an inquisitive glance, "Where are you even getting a body, anyway?"

"That rather depends on the circumstances of your death," Albus says heavily.

"Well that shouldn't be too difficult, we've already established that I will be murdered, so-"

Albus growls in frustration, "Fine! You manage to somehow defy all odds stacked against you, escape your cell, and are shot dead by some random muggle in a neighbouring village who recognizes you from your wanted posters! If I wasn't so bloody fond of you, I might consider doing it myself at this rate!"

Gellert is quiet for a full minute, then whistles appreciatively. "That's quite poetic, Albus. It further solidifies my point that all muggles are just vicious brutes, while portraying me as the brave hero who never gave up on his cause."

"Yes, quite," Albus mutters, "but I wasn't being serious-"

"No, no - now you've painted quite a poignant tragedy to my unfortunate demise." Gellert reasons excitedly, "I'm rather fond of it now."

"You want to be killed by a muggle?" Albus peers at him in disbelief, "Someone who you consider to be inferior to you? Surely that tarnishes the value of your legacy quite a bit?"

"Not if I was defenceless, without a wand or any protection," Gellert says happily, "struck out by one of those barbaric muggles I've been trying to warn our world of for all this time. That's quite a beautiful death, Albus, I'm very pleased with it. The sheer irony of it is phenomenal."

"That would create some flaws in our plan," Albus says cautiously, "there aren't meant to be any witnesses..."

"Just leave the body in a muggle village," Gellert shrugs, "Someone will find me."

"The Ministry would need to find you, not muggle police."

"I escaped, didn't I? They'll be looking."

Albus lets out a heaving high, and gazes up to the high heavens in defeat. "Alright. Fine. You can have your murder. Now we just need to decide how you escape."

"Easy. Kätzchen."

Albus nods slowly, "and then I'll wipe her memory."

"And you and I can ride off into the sunset," Gellert says, pleased, "Where are you taking me, anyway?"

"Canada."

Gellert swears. "You really don't want me to have any excitement, do you?"

"I think you've had your fair amount of excitement, don't you?" Albus mutters, "The village is rather quiet and peaceful, and there aren't many inhabitants near the mountains."

"Alright, fine. Canada, apparently," Gellert says in a bitter tone, "and we'll be bored and happy for the rest of our days."

Albus raises a brow, "You'll be bored, I'll still be teaching."

Gellert hums quietly, "Maybe I should become a teacher too, just to spite you."

"No," Albus says firmly, "Part of our arrangement is you agreeing to stay out of the public eye. Besides, you would be a terrible teacher."

"No I wouldn't, I certainly have enough talents to share, particularly in a Dark Arts classroom..."

"They won't be teaching Dark Arts to students, Gellert."

"I could start a new curriculum."

Albus glares at him sharply, "You stay the hell away from my school."

Gellert sighs in exasperation, "Fine, fine. You win. I will give up my lifelong dreams to finally best you at your own games."

"Teaching isn't a game, it's-"

"No education rants!" Gellert says, pointing an accusing finger, "That is my petition to this bargain."

"I really don't think you have the leverage to be making demands of me."

"We'll have to see about that, once you get me out of this cell," Gellert says with a wink.

Albus quirks his lips, "I suppose we will. Well," he says decisively, and claps his hands together, "now that we've gotten everything all sorted, I will move ahead with my side of the plan. I will be back for you in exactly three months time."

"I'll be waiting," Gellert says sarcastically.

"Oh, and Gellert?" Albus turns back, "Please try not to antagonize anyone while I'm gone. Keep under the radar."

"No promises, Albus." He scoffs, "Not antagonizing anyone would probably warrant suspicion on my end."

Albus purses his lips, "I find that hardly surprising."

"You know me so well," Gellert says with a grin.

"I should hope so."

"Well, I suppose I may as well enjoy my remaining days as Gellert Grindelwald," Gellert says with a wistful tone, "Soon, my beautiful legacy will be swept away by the hands of time, and all that will remain is a boring, domesticated man by the name of Pentacles Ferryweather."

Albus regards him with a pinched expression, "Please don't call yourself Pentacles Ferryweather."

"Too late - it's already been decided," Gellert quips, "Do try to raise a little hell for me in that school of yours while you're gone."

"I can assure you, I mostly decidedly will not."

"Mr. Ferryweather does not approve," Gellert clicks his tongue.

"Mr. Grindelwald can sulk behind his bars for all I care," Albus mutters.

Gellert sighs, "Albus, you used to be so much more exciting."

"I'm sorry-" Albus laughs sardonically, "-is staging a murder, and smuggling a convict across the globe not thrilling enough for you?"

Gellert shrugs. "I've carried out more compelling schemes before breakfast."

"Well I'm sorry to dissatisfy you so greatly," Albus says with narrowed eyes.

"You always satisfy me, Albus," Gellert smirks, "and Pentacles is quite pleased with your efforts, even if Gellert thinks you could do with some more radical panache to liven up your rather refined manners."

"Ah, but Albus thinks Pentacles is a cheap cop out, and much prefers the company of Gellert, who could do with reeling in his own inexhaustible discord, just a tad," Albus says, with a twinkling gaze.

Gellert grins broadly. "You love my tenacious ways."

"Merlin only knows why," Albus mutters.

"Gellert certainly knows why."

Albus glares, but it is eclipsed by the fondness that shines through his gaze, as he slowly backs away from the cell, "I will see you in three months time, Gellert. Do behave, if not a little."

"I can assure you, I most decidedly will not," Gellert smirks.

"Until then, Mr. Grindelwald."

"That's Mr. Ferryweather to you!" Gellert calls to Albus's retreating form, smirking to himself when he hears a loud scoff echoing back to him.

He crosses his cell, and flops back onto his cot as he tucks his arms behind his head. Then, he grins broadly up to the stone ceiling and mutters to the empty room, "You truly are a devious bastard, Albus Dumbledore. I hope you never change."

Fin.


AN:/ Pentacles is pronounced like Hercules. Well, the -cles part, specifically. I hope you enjoyed and will consider reviewing!