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Chapter Text

In every prophecy there is a certain amount of pain.

Predicting the future means changing the natural order of things. Prophesying is a way of challenging the universe, of manipulating events. And Cassandra Trelawney knew better than anyone that the universe exacted a high price from those who defied it.

“Don't give up!” demanded someone incapable of understanding her pain. “You need to try again!”

In front of Cassandra, on the large mahogany table, illuminated by the light of dozens of candles, a single stone, dark as ebony, rested, seemingly harmless. Right next to it, a crescent-shaped container, filled with crystal-clear water, seemed to beckon with a fleeting promise of relief. Cassandra looked at her trembling palms and couldn't help but let out an anguished moan when she saw how red, peeled, and wounded they already were.

It was ironic to think that the future of the magical world depended on those poor, destroyed hands!

“Please, Cassandra. You have to try!” insisted the person standing behind her. “Just one more time!”

Whimpering, the poor woman reached out her hands and, in an act of extreme courage, grabbed the stone, letting out a cry of terror. The moment it came into contact with her skin, the magical artifact began to heat up more and more, until its color changed from black to a vivid ember tone.

Until her whole world collapsed into pain.

“On the next full moon, the Sacred Qilin will finally see the light!” Cassandra heard herself say as her eyes detached from the present, finally glimpsing the long-awaited future.

“We already know that!” the voice behind her said urgently. “We need some information that will lead us to it!”

The pain was already nearly unbearable, yet Cassandra clung to the stone as if her life depended on it, searching for something, anything...

But there was nothing. Absolutely nothing!

The ancients said that true revelation only came when the seer reached the threshold of unconsciousness, when the pain was so great that the mind shut down completely and there was no shadow to cloud their vision of the future. There was a time when Cassandra feared nothing more than this fateful moment of revelation.

Now, that was all she wanted to achieve.

Burning in an inferno of pain, gasping in sheer despair, a word finally came to Cassandra's mind, a second before everything went completely dark:

“Dumbledore!” she cried.

The stone slipped from her hands, striking the floor with a sharp crack, and the seer only didn't fall with it because someone held her from behind. Immediately, her two hands were quickly dipped into the container full of water. The single phoenix tear dissolved into the liquid was not enough to heal her wounds completely, but it provided relief that could not be described in words.

“You were a good omega, Cassandra,” a soft voice spoke to her amid the darkness of semi-unconsciousness. “You can rest now.”

“I told you so,” Kendra Dumbledore boasted, smiling at the little girl sleeping in her arms.

“Yes, you were absolutely right,” her husband, Percival, acknowledged. “The full moon really did its job.”

The birth had gone well, and Kendra required no help beyond that of a midwife and her husband. After the birth, everything was thoroughly cleaned with magic, and little Ariana nursed for the first time before falling asleep peacefully in her mother's protective arms.

Percival admired the child's sweet face for a few seconds, enraptured.

“She's so beautiful!” he praised, making his wife's smile widen even more.

“It's true...” Kendra agreed, pulling back the blanket that wrapped the baby to caress her face.

“Will we finally be blessed with an omega in our family?” Percival asked eagerly.

“Honey, we already have an omega in the family!” Kendra replied, in that tone reserved for conversations she'd had many times before.

Percival shook his head in pure disbelief.

“I don't know why you still insist,” he said. “If Albus were really an omega, as you say, he would have matured at least two years ago, but...”

“He is an omega!” Kendra stated categorically. “You'll see.”

“All right, all right...” Percival conceded, more to avoid contradicting his wife than because he was truly convinced. “I have no intention of doubting you, especially because, if it were up to me to choose, I would be the only alpha in this house.”

Hearing that, Kendra tried to laugh, but could only manage a tired smile.

“You say that, but being an omega is not easy,” she stated very seriously. “Especially when our fate is tied to a bad alpha.”

“Naturally, I would take good care of that part,” Percival assured her, puffing out his chest in a typical alpha manner. “I would never allow a bad alpha to sink his fangs into the neck of my omega child.”

“I know you wouldn't,” Kendra agreed with a smile. “I'm not even sure you would allow a good alpha to get close to your omega child. And since we're talking about our children, how about sending an owl to Hogwarts to tell them the good news?”

“I was thinking of doing that right now!” Percival said, rising from his chair with some reluctance; after all, leaving his beautiful little girl was no easy task.

He then sat down at the desk next to the double bed and, taking a few inches of parchment and his favorite quill, began to write the first lines of what would be a letter full of happy news for his two boys.

One paragraph. That was all Percival managed to write, because before he could start the second, a terrible green light shot through the open window, hitting Kendra squarely in the chest. The baby she held slipped from her arms and landed on her lap. The fall, though short, woke the newborn, who cried out in fear, her heartfelt cries echoing throughout the room.

“Kendra? KENDRA?!” Percival shouted, reaching inside his robes, but unable to grab his wand in time to prevent a second bolt of green light from striking him in the back, causing him to collapse onto the desk with such force that the inkwell he had been using until then fell over.

The door of the house swung open, revealing a witch with black hair and piercing blue eyes. She strode across the hall until she found a second witch, slightly older, with brown hair and brown eyes. Without a sound, the two witches scanned the room, wands at the ready, until they were certain there was no threat.

“Did you have to kill them both?” asked the light-eyed witch, Vinda Rosier.

“It's easier this way,” replied the other witch, Carrow, shrugging her shoulders. “We don't have time for desperate parents.”

“Is the baby hurt?” Vinda asked, a hint of anxiety in her voice as she saw the child crying at the top of its lungs.

“No, she's fine,” Carrow clarified as she took the baby from her mother's lap and carefully settled her in her arms. “Let's go!”

“Don't you think we should check if she's really the one we're looking for?” Vinda asked, hesitant. “I was told that the Qilin has a birthmark...”

“Do you happen to see any other newborns around here?” Carrow interrupted her impatiently.

“No, but...” 

“The prophecy was clear! The Qilin would see the light under the full moon. It can only be this baby!” Carrow said irritably. “Come on, let's go!”

Vinda hesitated for a few moments, then nodded, following her companion outside the house, where they apparated away, taking the baby with them.

"We're too late." That was the only sentence Theseus Scamander was able to utter when he came face to face with the devastating scene that awaited him in the Dumbledores’ bedroom.  

Newt Scamander entered the room shortly after Theseus and couldn't even find the strength to speak. For seconds that seemed like hours, the two brothers just looked around, still holding their wands.  

"They’ve taken the Qilin," Newt finally broke the silence.  

"Everything points to that," Theseus agreed, looking grim.  

Newt’s gaze rested for a few seconds on the poor woman’s body, lying on the bed. Right next to her was her husband’s, slumped over the desk. A still-wet ink stain spread across the wooden tabletop, forming a trail that had dripped onto the floor before drying.  

"Now what?" Newt asked. "What are we going to do?"  

Theseus didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he pointed his wand and cast half a dozen tracking spells, without any promising result.  

"For now, I see no other choice but to leave everything in the hands of the Ministry," he finally replied.  

"The Ministry?" Newt looked at his brother, shocked. "Are you saying we're not going to do anything?"  

Theseus's shoulders twitched slightly at the veiled accusation.  

"I just meant that an official investigation needs to be launched," he said, as he quickly bent down to look under the bed. "Besides, the Dumbledores had two more children. They need to be informed of what happened."  

"Two more children?" Newt was surprised. "Where are they?"  

"Hogwarts," Theseus replied before dodging a pair of cute orange slippers that almost tripped him. "Fifth and seventh years."  

"Two Alphas, then?" Newt deduced.  

"Unpresented."  

The information made Newt frown immediately.  

"Even the one in seventh?"  

"That's what the Ministry file says," Theseus replied, shrugging.  

Newt shook his head.  

"There must be some mistake," he said, genuinely puzzled.  

"It could be that the older one is a beta," Theseus suggested. "It wouldn't be unusual."  

Newt chose not to press the point. Instead, he turned his attention to a picture frame on the table, where the Dumbledore family posed, seemingly happy. Alpha father, pregnant Omega mother, and their two red-haired sons.  

"It will be devastating for them," Newt commented, without taking his eyes off the photo. "To know that their parents are dead and their newborn sister has just been kidnapped."  

"The news is even worse for the wizarding world," Theseus said as he walked around the room with extreme care, forcing himself to remember every detail of what he saw. Surely, the Ministry would request his memories for the investigation, and it would be best if they were as rich and detailed as possible. "What will things be like without the Qilin?"  

"It's too early to lose hope!" Newt replied, forcing himself to sound confident.  

"I think you're right," Theseus agreed, although his face showed no sign of optimism. "But now let's go, we still have a lot to do."

Albus could barely think.  

A bad feeling told him that something was terribly wrong, but he couldn’t remember what it was. He looked around, perhaps for the hundredth time. Everything in that room seemed hostile, frightening. There were no portraits, no objects that could be broken or turned into a weapon. The floor was carpeted and the walls were smooth, covered with horrible velvety wallpaper. In the center of the room was only a double bed where he had been left; Albus couldn’t even tell how long he had been there.  

Hours? Days? Weeks?  

Where was his wand? Why had he been locked up in this terrifying place?  

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember.  

During the first few hours, he didn’t even have the strength to move. Drenched in sweat, he could only whimper and reached out into the void, trying to grasp something, someone, he wasn’t even sure was really there. More time passed before he could lift his head from the voluminous feather pillow, just enough to realize he was completely alone.

With great effort, he pushed his blankets away and rolled off the bed until he fell to the floor.  At that precise moment, there he was, slowly crawling across the carpet of a room he didn’t know, trying to reach the wooden door in an attempt to escape, wanting to run away, wanting...  

“Get me out of here!” he begged, already at the limit of his strength. “Someone... please...”  

Someone strong, someone who could protect him from that terrible place, from that horrible feeling...  

An alpha!  

An alpha strong enough to free him! To relieve the pain he was feeling; an alpha to hug him, protect him...  

To mark him!  

If only he had his wand! No doubt that damn door would be in pieces without him even needing to cast a spell.  

And he could find his alpha!  

Minutes passed as if they were years, and the hours felt like decades. Albus tried to scream, tried to beg, but nothing happened. The pain was almost unbearable!  

An alpha! An alpha! An alpha!  

He ended up falling asleep on the floor, completely exhausted.  

Another whole day passed without him being able to organize his thoughts. A growing anguish dominated his chest to the point that it was difficult to even breathe.  

“Someone... someone...” he begged, without even the strength to scream.  

It was as if his mind was clouded and Albus couldn’t remember anything at all; as if, from one moment to the next, his brain had shut down and all that remained were the demands of his body, writhing in search of something that seemed unattainable.  

A long time passed before the door was finally unlocked from the outside, and the sound of the key turning in the lock was enough to wake him from his restless sleep. Unable to move, Albus felt the door push his entire body just enough for someone to pass through, someone he couldn’t immediately recognize.

“Mr. Dumbledore? I need some help here!” said the man who had just entered urgently, and the next moment, Albus groaned loudly as he felt his body lifted into the air by someone he didn’t know.  

“You can't come in!” said a very stern female voice.  

“Why?” another voice, this one male, asked, and Albus could guess that someone was being pushed out. “You can't do that! I'm an Auror, sent by the Ministry!”  

“Of course I can do that! Before being an Auror, you are also an Alpha!” the woman retorted, unflinching. “You can't go near an omega in heat! Please leave! We'll take care of this!”  

An omega? An omega in heat? What were these people talking about?  

“I thought the heat was over,” the man said weakly in protest.  

“It's not completely safe yet,” the woman insisted. “Please wait outside.”  

The alpha finally gave in, and the bedroom door slammed shut just as Albus's body was laid on the bed so carefully that he would have thanked them for their kindness if he had had the strength to say anything. Immediately afterwards, someone not so kind lifted his head with one hand and forced a glass cup between his lips.  

With no other option, Albus drank. A refreshing potion slid down his throat like a balm, invigorating him.  

“Are you feeling well?” asked the same woman who had sent the alpha out, looking concerned.  

Albus couldn’t say he felt well at all, but out of sheer fear that they would leave him there, locked up, for even longer, he nodded.  

“Drink it all!” someone ordered, and Albus obediently drank the rest of the potion.  

“What... is happening to me?” Albus asked after returning the empty cup. “Why did you lock me up in this place?”  

A woman dressed entirely in white sat on the edge of the bed and, instead of answering, took his wrist and brought it to her nose.  

“Madame... Aldridge?” Albus insisted, finally recognizing the medi-witch in charge of the Hogwarts hospital wing.  

“Apparently, the potion is starting to take effect...” she replied with a kind smile.  

“He doesn't look well at all,” said the same person who had forced him to drink, and this time Albus recognized his younger brother’s voice.  

“Abe?” he asked, confused. “Can someone explain to me what's going on?”  

“What else could be going on?” Aberforth replied sharply. “We're checking to see if you're finally functioning again.”  

Functioning?, Albus frowned, finding the choice of words rather peculiar.

“Did someone jinx me?” he asked, still trying to understand what, in Merlin's name, was happening. “Or maybe this is some kind of illness?”  

“What you have is not an illness,” said a second male voice, soft-spoken but completely unfamiliar. Albus looked in the direction of the sound and saw a thin young man with light eyes and a somewhat exotic appearance standing on the other side of the bed, looking at him with a mixture of concern and... pity?  

“If it's not an illness, then... what do I have?”  

The unknown boy took a deep breath.  

“This was your first heat,” he explained softly. “Don't worry, it's not always this bad. In fact, the first one is usually the worst of all.”  

“Heat?” Albus asked, genuinely confused. “What are you talking about? I can't have gone into heat... I'm past the age...”  

The witch in white held his wrist again, silently asking him to speak, and Albus looked at her, waiting for confirmation of what he himself had said. Omegas reach maturity much earlier than betas and alphas do. His friend, Elphias Doge, had been proof of that when, almost two years ago, he had had his first heat.  

“It's really quite unusual,” the medi-witch began, very calmly. “But apparently, it took you a little longer to mature... and now, perhaps due to the full moon, or who knows, the emotional impact of the recent news...”  

“News? What news?” Albus asked, feeling a strange chill in his stomach as he saw everyone's faces take on a very somber look. “What's going on?” Albus had to insist in the face of the enormous silence that followed.  

“Don't tell me you don't remember anything?” Aberforth asked, in an almost impatient tone. “Can't you really remember what happened to our parents and our sister?”  

Upon hearing that question, the memory of a terrible truth struck Albus like lightning, sending an unpleasant throb down his spine: his parents were no longer in this world. His newborn sister had been kidnapped by bandits and could be anywhere, even dead!  

Two tears rolled down his face.

“My wand!” he pleaded, wiping away the tears that kept sliding down his cheeks with the back of his hand, his voice breaking until it scratched his throat. “I need my wand!”  

“My boy...” the medi-witch began, slightly embarrassed. “I'm very sorry, but… you can’t have a wand… at least not yet.”  

“What are you talking about?” Albus asked. “I need my wand to find the people who murdered my parents and took my sister!”  

“I'm sorry, but that won't be possible!” Madame Aldridge insisted, now truly sorry for the whole situation. “Not without the authorization of a responsible Alpha.”  

“I don't have a responsible Alpha! My parents are dead!” Albus reacted, feeling his whole body shake. “You can't leave me without magic at a time like this!”  

The unknown boy shook his head and then explained:  

“In cases like yours, the wand remains in the possession of the Ministry until you marry or an Alpha comes forward as your guardian.” Then, glancing quickly in Aberforth's direction: “Like your brother, for example...”  

“It just so happens that my brother hasn't matured yet,” Albus explained, without losing his composure. “And I don't have any other relatives who can give me that authorization.”  

“I'm sorry, I know better than anyone how unfair this is, but...” the unknown boy said. “But… as unfair as it may be… this is the law.”  

Albus had known the law since the day his good friend Doge's wand had also been temporarily taken away shortly after his first heat. The wand and…  

“I'm going to have to leave Hogwarts, aren't I?” Albus asked, grimly.  

“It's standard procedure…” Madame Aldridge replied, hesitantly. “For their own safety, omegas must, immediately after their first heat, return to their families, who then become responsible for completing their education…”  

“What a nonsense!” Aberforth interrupted. “We don't have a family anymore!”  

Albus looked at Aberforth, the truth of those words piercing his heart. Soon he would have to leave and find a way to survive without his magic and without his family.  

“What about my sister?” he asked. “What will become of her?”  

“I can assure you that the Ministry is committed to the search,” the unknown boy replied, though his tone conveyed little confidence.  

“Excuse me…” Albus asked. “Who are you? Do you work for the Ministry?”

“Ah, I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier...” the young man quickly apologized. "My name is Scamander. You… you can call me Newt. And… no, I haven't worked for the Ministry in quite some time, thank Merlin; but my older brother, Theseus, he's waiting outside, he does work there. I'm… just helping him out… temporarily."  

“And why are you two here? Have you discovered anything?” Albus asked.  

“We're still… investigating,” Newt said, then hesitated. “Maybe this isn’t the best time to talk about it; you’re not fully recovered yet, and…”  

“I'm fine now!” Albus assured him. “Please, tell me! I… need to know…”  

“Tell us at once!” Aberforth intervened, not bothering to be tactful.  

But before Newt could open his mouth, Madame Aldridge stepped forward:  

“No way! You need to rest!” she said energetically. “Whatever it is, this conversation will have to wait until tomorrow.”  

“Wait! I need to know if…” Albus began to protest.  

“Tomorrow! You're still very weak,” the woman insisted, in a tone that left no room for argument, so decisive that even Aberforth didn’t dare to protest, and then, with a tired sigh, she ran her hands down Albus's back. “Good Merlin! Your clothes are soaked!”  

With a brief wave of her wand, a change of clothes appeared in the medi-witch's hands, and she immediately proceeded to bend Albus forward so she could undress him.  

“You two, help me here!” she asked, feeling that this simple movement had been enough to make the omega's body go limp in her arms. Both Aberforth and Newt helped support Albus’s body while Madame Aldridge pulled his wet clothes over his head.  

“Wait!” Newt said urgently the second his eyes fell on Albus's bare back. “I need you to help me lean his body forward a little more… just for a moment.”  

“What for?” Aberforth asked suspiciously.  

“I have to… I have to check something,” Newt replied quickly. “I promise it will be very quick.”  

No sooner had he finished than Newt was pushing Albus’s back as far as he could, his fingers running the length of his spine.  

“Has he always had these marks?” he asked Aberforth, who craned his neck to get a better look.  

“I don't know…” he hesitated. “I don't think so. At least, I've never noticed it before.”  

Albus let out a low whimper, clearly uncomfortable in the awkward position.  

“Sorry about that,” Newt said, gently pulling Albus's shoulders back. “But I need to…”

“You need to help me put these clothes on him!” Madame Aldridge interrupted, in a grumpy tone. “Whatever it is, this is not the time. He needs to rest!”  

Newt couldn't help but look concerned, but he finally let out a resigned sigh before helping Albus into his new clothes.  

“A peaceful sleep,” Madame Aldridge said quickly. “That's all he needs right now.” Then, turning to Aberforth, she added, “And you need to return to the common room. It's long past your bedtime.”  

“What?!” Aberforth reacted with irritation. “But I…”  

“No arguments! You can see your brother again tomorrow morning. By then, the last effects of the heat will have passed, and he will surely wake up in a better mood.” Looking in Albus's direction for a few seconds, she added, “Poor boy… Come on, come on… You two can go now.”  

Newt hesitated a little longer when he saw he was being ushered out of the room, but Madame Aldridge seemed adamant. Resigned, he followed Aberforth outside the room, where Theseus was waiting.  

“You're still going to tell us everything you know, aren't you?” Aberforth asked the moment the bedroom door closed, staring at Theseus and Newt intensely.  

“Don't worry about it,” Theseus replied, not as impressed by Aberforth’s bravado as he had expected.  

Still, the young man was satisfied and headed for the common room without even saying goodbye.  

“I need to talk to you!” Newt said, grabbing his brother by the elbow the moment Aberforth was out of sight.  

“Whoa, hold on!” Theseus protested as he was pulled into a more secluded corner of the hallway. “Why are you so nervous? Did something happen?”  

“Yes, it did!” Newt replied hastily. “The baby that was kidnapped… I just found out it's not the Qilin.”  

“What do you mean it's not the Qilin?” Theseus asked, looking around. “Are you sure about that?”  

“I am, I am…” Newt replied, tense. “You know how much I've researched Qilins, don't you?”  

“I know, so what?”  

“So the thing is, we know a few things about them…” Newt continued softly. “Qilins are born every two hundred years, Qilins are always omegas…”  

“I already know all that!” Theseus protested. “Where are you going with this?”  

“And… and we also know that they have a very distinctive mark on their backs…” Newt continued as if he hadn't been interrupted.  

Theseus opened his mouth, stunned.  

“What?! Why didn't you ever tell me about this before?”  

"I didn't… look, it doesn't matter! What really matters is that… the kidnappers… they got the wrong Dumbledore!"  

Theseus’s eyes lit up as he realized what his brother was trying to tell him.  

“Don't tell me…”  

“Yes, that's right!” Newt confirmed, looking more serious than ever. “The kidnapped baby isn't the Qilin! The real Qilin is Albus Dumbledore!”

Chapter Text

“The kidnapped baby isn't the Qilin! The real Qilin is Albus Dumbledore!” Newt repeated after quickly glancing around to make sure no one was nearby.

Theseus stared at his brother for a few short seconds, waiting for him to say that it was some kind of joke.

“No, he's not,” Theseus replied, annoyed, when Newt made no move to back down. “The prophecy—”

“We misunderstood the prophecy!” Newt interrupted his brother. “And apparently, we weren't the only ones.”

At this point, Theseus was even considering the possibility that his brother had gone mad. He grabbed him by the arms, ready to shake him out of his delirium and back to reality.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, exasperated. “The prophecy said that the Qilin would be born during the full moon! How could it be Albus Dumbledore if he's already matured?” Then Theseus was suddenly struck by a flash of understanding. “Wait a minute! You're not trying to tell me that...”

“...that the Qilin is only born when the omega is born, yes, that's exactly what I'm trying to say!” Newt confirmed, speaking quickly but very quietly. “And this boy, Albus Dumbledore, had his first heat just...”

“Two days ago! During the full moon!” Theseus exclaimed incredulously, then continued in a tone of relief and celebration, “That means the Qilin is safe!”

“At least for the moment,” Newt observed, worried. “But they must have realized that the poor baby isn't the real Qilin.”

Theseus put his hands to his head.

“We need to notify the Ministry as soon as possible!” he said, and Newt's expression immediately darkened upon hearing this.

“Theseus... are you sure this is the right thing to do?” he asked, uncertain. “If the Ministry finds out...”

“Please, don't start that again!” Theseus retorted irritably. “You know very well that my duty as an Auror is to report!”

“Even if it puts the Qilin at risk?” Newt challenged him impatiently.

“The Qilin needs protection!” Theseus insisted. “What do you suggest? Do you intend to hide him in a suitcase, by any chance?”

“Maybe that would be better...” Newt replied sulkily.

“Listen here,” Theseus said, struggling to remain calm. “I know you don't trust the Ministry, but every alpha on earth would do anything to sink their teeth into this omega's neck! And no wonder, because whoever succeeds will be the supreme Alpha and reign over the entire wizarding world for the rest of their life!”

“I know that, but...”

“Do you understand that the alpha who manages to subdue this omega will simply be the most powerful creature in the world?” Theseus asked, then concluded, “He. Must. Be. Protected!”

“Everyone thinks the Qilin is two days old,” Newt explained when Theseus finished his tirade. “Maybe it's better to just... let them keep believing that.”

Theseus looked at his brother for a few seconds, at first undecided, but soon seemed to make a decision.

“At the very least, I need to inform my superior,” he insisted as Newt looked at him, exasperated. “I can’t just keep it quiet; my career...”

“All right, all right...” Newt capitulated, dejected, then added, “You really do look like a stubborn hippogriff!”

“Look who's talking,” Theseus shot back grumpily. “It's the right thing to do.”

Newt couldn't tell if his brother was trying to convince him or himself of that.

Madame Aldridge was absolutely right. The next morning, Albus felt much better, as if those hellish days had never happened.

But now that he had recovered, another even worse hell awaited him.

Escorted by a teacher, Albus was allowed to return to the dormitories, but only to pack his things before leaving. And that was the first thing in the morning, after breakfast, when all the students were already in class. Everything was planned so that he would have no contact with anyone, not even to say goodbye.

After getting all his things ready, the omega looked sadly at his Hogwarts robes, carefully folded on the bed. For a moment, he considered leaving them behind since there was no point in keeping them anymore, but in the end he threw everything into his trunk along with his books and clothes. Maybe he could still sell the robes to some shop that sold second-hand clothing, he thought bitterly.

The alpha who had been forced to wait outside the day before was formally introduced to him by Newt Scamander, who was Theseus's younger brother, as soon as he left the Gryffindor common room, and Albus had the slight impression that Theseus was a little... uneasy when greeting him.

Perhaps out of shyness?

As they walked toward the exit, Albus looked around, silently saying goodbye to every little detail of the castle.

“I'm sorry for what you're going through,” Theseus said, noticing Albus's visibly unhappy expression. “My brother also had to leave Hogwarts when he became an omega.”

“Thank you,” Albus replied softly, not wanting to dwell on that topic, and decided to change the subject a little. “You work at the Ministry, don't you? Can you tell me when they will release my parents' bodies so I can hold the funeral?”

“I believe it will be only a day or two,” Theseus replied after considering the question for a few seconds. “Oh! And I also read your father's will. He left some money and a house in Godric's Hollow; I think it's enough for you to live comfortably until you find a... a good alpha.” Theseus took a piece of parchment out of his pocket and handed it to Albus.

"I'm not interested in finding an alpha," Albus replied as he casually put his father's will in his pocket. "What I really want is my wand back! I need it to find my sister."

The discomfort on Theseus’s face was evident as he was forced to deliver the bad news. 

"I spoke to my superiors about your situation yesterday," he said. "I explained your case and even asked them for special permission for you to use a wand."

"And what did they say?" Albus asked, his eyes shining with anticipation.

"Nothing, absolutely nothing!" Theseus lamented. "They said that if they made one exception, they’d have to make another, and then another..."

"I can’t see what the problem with that would be," Albus commented, annoyed. "My gender doesn't make me incapable of practicing magic!"

At that moment, Newt approached, bringing Aberforth with him, who, at his request, had been excused from class so that the two brothers could say goodbye.

"The Ministry’s excuse," Newt interjected upon hearing that part of the conversation and, noticing his brother’s displeased expression, he insisted: "Yes, Theseus, the excuse is that keeping an omega with a wand during heat can be too risky, unless, of course, there’s an alpha to take responsibility for him."

"In that case, Albus would just need to find an alpha willing to take responsibility, wouldn’t he?" Aberforth said. "Like, I don’t know…" He paused, pointing toward Theseus. "You, for example…"

Theseus grew so tense at that simple suggestion that he stumbled.

"It’s not that simple," Newt replied, noticing his brother’s obvious embarrassment. "The person responsible for the omega needs to be a close relative or... a spouse."

"There must be some exception!" Aberforth exclaimed, clearly irritated by all this nonsense about laws, alphas, and omegas. "Some way for Albus to use magic again and go after the bastards who killed our parents!"

Albus’s right hand wrapped around his brother’s wrist, a silent plea for him to calm down, to tone it down a little.

"I’m sorry, but as I already explained to your brother, the Ministry’s answer was no," Theseus replied. "They are adamant."

Then it was Newt's turn to add: 

"That’s no surprise to either of us, we went through a similar situation ourselves. When our parents died, I also spent a few months without a wand, until Theseus finally matured into an alpha and took responsibility for me."

"Except we don't have time to wait!" Aberforth snapped in annoyance. "Fine, fine! How about someone just slips him a wand, you know, on the sly?" he suggested, and even Albus, who was more than accustomed to his brother’s bad manners, was surprised by such brazenness.

"Then that someone would be in serious trouble," Theseus replied, frowning. "On their first heat, omegas receive a tracker very similar to the one underage wizards carry. One single unauthorized spell, and the Ministry will know."

"And what could the Ministry do, anyway?" Aberforth insisted, even more petulant. "Expel Albus again?"

"Certainly not," Theseus retorted, growing increasingly grumpy. "But they can arrest anyone who dares to lend a wand and keep the omega under the Ministry’s guardianship indefinitely. And I can guarantee that being without a wand would be the least of Albus’s problems if something like that happened."

"Damn it!" Aberforth growled. "Apparently, I’ll have to solve the problem myself!"

And it was Albus's turn to intervene. 

"Your hands are as tied as mine," he said with a sigh. "You can’t use magic outside Hogwarts while you’re underage, that could get you expelled."

"I couldn’t care less!" Aberforth spat. "I’d leave right now if I could!"

"No way! You need to complete your education," Albus replied calmly.

"And who's going to force me to stay?" Aberforth retorted.

"I was hoping you would reflect a little and understand that—"

“I don't want to understand!” Aberforth interrupted sharply. “And you’re just an omega, you can’t tell me what to do!”

Albus pressed his lips together, sensing the accusatory tone in those words but choosing to ignore it. 

“I’m also your older brother,” he said calmly. “And until you mature, I’m still responsible for you.”

Aberforth looked at Theseus, searching for some sign that this wasn’t true, but he only nodded in agreement.

“What are we going to do then?” Aberforth finally asked, this time glaring at Albus. “Our sister...”

“So far, the Ministry has done its best to—” Theseus began, but he was quickly interrupted.

“The Ministry’s best is usually worse than goat dung!” Aberforth snapped, refusing to be placated by the vague response.

“Please, Abe,” Albus intervened again. “You need to calm down.”

“And you? You’re too calm!” Aberforth’s patience finally snapped. “You don’t care about our sister or our parents’ deaths!”

“Abe...” Albus replied wearily. “How can you be so unfair?”

“I’m not being unfair at all!” Aberforth spat. “And I think you’d better get out of here! And if it’s not too much to ask, send me an owl to let me know the date of the funeral.”

And with that, Aberforth turned on his heel and retraced his steps without bothering to say goodbye. An uncomfortable silence followed as Albus watched his brother walk away until he turned the corner at the end of the corridor and disappeared. Only then did he take the opposite path, toward the exit, and the three wizards walked back toward the castle's main gate.

“Do you want a lift?” Newt asked, noticing the somewhat lost expression on Albus’s face.

“No, no... thank you,” Albus replied. “The train will take me to London, and from there, I can get home without any trouble.”

“Are you sure?” Theseus asked, unable to hide a hint of concern. “Perhaps it would be better if we…” 

“Yes, I'm sure. Don't worry,” Albus interrupted him. 

“In that case, I think I'll send your belongings to the station,” Theseus said. 

“Thank you very much,” Albus said with a soft smile. “And if you would be so kind, please send an owl with any news…” 

With no choice but to let Albus leave, the brothers simply said goodbye and watched him go. 

“Don't you think we should…” Newt began, the second he thought Albus was far enough away, but the energetic flapping of an owl's wings cut him off. 

“It's from the Ministry,” Theseus remarked when he saw that the letter that had just arrived was addressed to him.

“Do you think they have any news?” Newt asked, curious. 

“There's only one way to find out,” Theseus said as he broke the magical seal on the envelope and read its contents. 

“What's that look on your face?” Newt asked, noticing that his brother's expression had darkened the moment his eyes fell on the parchment. “Bad news?” 

“The worst,” Theseus replied, grimly. “It seems that all matters involving the Qilin are now under the jurisdiction of the International Confederation of Wizards.” 

“You mean you've been removed from the case?” Newt asked, and even though he wasn't an expert in Legilimency, Theseus was able to read what was written in his mind. 

“We all have the same goal: keeping the Qilin safe!” Theseus defended the Ministry before Newt could respond. “I'll go there; I'm sure they have a good explanation for me. Please don't do anything until I get back.” 

“It seems I don't have much choice,” Newt shrugged, glancing worriedly toward Black Lake, where Albus was still walking.

The house in Godric's Hollow seemed haunted. 

Not literally, of course, although a selfish part of Albus wished he could see his parents again, at least long enough for them to give him a clue, any clue, about his sister's whereabouts. 

But he knew his parents weren't coming back to help him. All Albus could do was investigate on his own. After all, he didn't need magic to ask questions. The neighbors, however, were so frightened by all the tragedy that had befallen their once-peaceful village that they were unwilling to cooperate. The only person who agreed to talk to him was his next-door neighbor, Bathilda Bagshot. 

“Have they released your poor parents' bodies for the funeral yet?” she asked him quietly as she finished heating the water for tea. 

“I received an owl earlier this afternoon,” Albus said, bowing his head. “So I've arranged the funeral for first thing tomorrow morning.” 

"I see…” the old lady said, frowning. 

The kettle whistled loudly. 

“It would be nice if you could attend,” Albus continued as Bathilda waved her wand to remove the kettle from the heat. 

“I wouldn't miss it,” she assured him, sitting down with some effort in the chair next to Albus. 

The pleasant aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the room seconds after the water came into contact with the herbs. 

“It seems you are the bravest witch in this entire village,” Albus said with sarcasm as he accepted the mug Bathilda handed him. 

“I'm too old to be afraid,” she quipped. “But that doesn't mean I know much.” 

“Anything helps, Madame Bathilda,” Albus assured her as he tasted his tea. 

A few seconds of silence followed. 

“I was sitting right here, you know?” Bathilda finally spoke, sighing. “It was already dark, so the green light came through the glass and lit up the whole room. It didn't take three seconds, and... it happened again! That's when I got up and peeked out the window, very carefully, of course…”

“Of course,” Albus said gently. 

“But unfortunately, I couldn't see much; it was pitch dark. All I saw was a shadow... but I can say for sure that it was a woman.” 

“A woman?” Albus asked, startled. “Madame Bathilda, did you provide that memory to the Ministry?” 

“Yes, but the person who came to me wasn't from the Ministry,” Bathilda said, moistening her throat with a long sip of warm tea, “but from the Confederation.” 

“The International Confederation of Wizards?” Albus asked, surprised. 

“Curious, don't you think? I've written two books on the history of the International Confederation of Wizards, and I can tell you that it's highly unusual to see Confederation officers knocking on doors looking for memories related to common crimes...” 

“What could they possibly want?” Albus wondered thoughtfully, as he pressed his fingertips together. 

“I can only say one thing, my boy: whatever it is, it has to do with the entire wizarding world.” 

Albus remained silent, trying to piece together his thoughts like a puzzle. 

“I found a letter on my father's desk,” he said distantly. “He was writing to tell us that our sister had been born healthy... the last sentence he wrote before he died was that the name they had chosen was Ariana.” 

“It's a beautiful name,” the lady said sadly, resting her fingers on Albus's forearm. 

“I need my wand back, Madame Bathilda,” Albus blurted out, staring at the mug in his hands. “So I can find my sister!” 

“My poor boy…” Bathilda murmured. “Being forced to carry such a heavy burden, even though you're so young, and on top of that, an omega! Wouldn't it be better to leave everything in the hands of the authorities?” 

It was almost humiliating to think that he, of all people, someone everyone said had such a promising future, who had received countless medals and achieved positions many would never even dream of, and who was considered by many of his teachers to be one of the most talented wizards of his age, was now nothing more than a simple omega, a caste merely focused on reproduction.

“That's not fair!” Albus complained. “If I had my wand, I could do so many things! Even though I'm an omega, I know I could... make a difference!” 

Bathilda nodded, without a second's doubt that this was true. 

“Then all you need to do is get your wand back!” she said. 

“But... how?” Albus asked, resting his head in his hands. 

“Oh, my boy... I know you're smart enough to figure out the answer,” Bathilda replied calmly. 

Albus finally looked up from his cup. 

“You can't be suggesting that I...” 

“Get married?” Bathilda finished. “Yes, yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting. And please don't look at me like that, you know better than I do that this is the best solution. You get married, your husband returns your wand, and you'll be free to perform magic and go after your sister. Or, at least, as free as an omega can be.” 

“That last part is what concerns me a little. What if, instead of setting me free, the alpha I choose decides to keep me forever?” 

“Well... nothing in this world is risk-free,” Bathilda said thoughtfully. “But even risks can be calculated, can't they?” 

Albus's fingertips came together as he considered that option. But before he could fully contemplate it, a very impressive gray owl tapped on the living room window. Bathilda glanced at her young friend in a silent apology before getting up from her chair to retrieve the letter the animal was carrying. 

“Good news?” Albus asked when he saw his friend's face break into a smile as she read the letter. 

“It's from my grandnephew,” she replied, clearly excited. “He says he's coming from Berlin to visit me.” 

“Curious...” Albus remarked. 

“True,” Bathilda laughed, quickly putting her nephew's letter in a drawer. “But whatever he needs, I will certainly do my best to help. Oh, my goodness, how late it is!” she added, looking in amazement at the clock on the wall. “And I haven't even started making dinner...” 

Albus understood that he was being discreetly dismissed. Setting aside his mug, he said goodbye to his friend and returned to his haunted home.

When the burial was finally over, Albus stroked the gravestone. Beside him, Aberforth sobbed loudly, repeatedly wiping his nose with his coat sleeve. 

Few people had attended: his neighbor Bathilda, his old school friend Elphias Doge, and one or two other brave neighbors. Apparently, people were still quite frightened, preferring to keep a prudent distance. 

If he had known the funeral would be so empty, Albus might have insisted more on sending an owl to the Scamander brothers, but Aberforth had been adamantly against the presence of anyone connected to the Ministry, and Albus had eventually given in. 

It was a shame. Albus really wanted to ask Theseus if he knew why the investigation into his parents' murder had been handed over to the International Confederation of Wizards. 

But this was just one of many questions he wanted answered. 

Standing before his parents' grave, Albus made a promise: he would find his sister Ariana. Whether omega or alpha, with magic or without, as long as there was hope of rescuing her alive, he would not rest for a moment. For her, Albus would sacrifice whatever it took. 

Only then would he allow himself to move on. 

Wiping away a tear that insisted on sliding down his face, Albus reached inside his coat for his wand, intending to conjure some flowers to decorate his parents' grave. Only after feeling around in his pockets and finding nothing did he remember that he no longer had one. 

“Madame Bathilda, would you mind conjuring some flowers for me?” Albus asked, feeling humiliated that he couldn't even decorate his own parents' grave. 

“Of course not, my son...” Bathilda said, dismayed, fumbling a little to open her bag and take out her wand. 

“Allow me,” a gentle voice sounded from behind the group. In the next second, a huge wreath of flowers appeared to adorn the grave, so impressive that Albus was startled when he turned around and did not recognize the wizard who had performed such a kindness. 

But the scent of alpha emanating from him was unmistakable. 

“I'm sorry for your loss,” the man said softly. Albus immediately noticed his strong German accent. 

“Thank you,” Albus replied, still trying to remember where he knew him from. He held out his hand for the alpha to shake. It was a different kind of handshake, welcoming, warm, almost protective. 

“Who are you, again?” Aberforth asked suspiciously, seeing that the alpha held Albus's hand between his for longer than normal. “An acquaintance of our parents?” 

“No, nothing like that,” the man replied, extending his hand to Aberforth, who, after a brief moment of hesitation, agreed to shake it briefly. “Forgive me, I should have introduced myself earlier, but I arrived a little late. My name is Anton Vogel.” 

“Anton Vogel, the Mugwump?” Aberforth asked, and when Albus looked at him, he explained why he knew that, looking proud of himself. “I had to write a ten-inch essay about it last week.” 

“So you are Anton Vogel, the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation himself...” Albus said, looking intrigued. 

Aberforth also couldn’t hide his astonishment. 

“What is the Mugwump doing in this godforsaken place?” he asked. Vogel gave a condescending smile. 

“If you'll allow me, we'll go somewhere more private, where I can explain a little more calmly why I'm here,” he proposed.

The Dumbledore brothers exchanged glances. 

“Of course,” Albus replied for both of them. “We can talk at our house, if you don't mind.” 

“Not at all,” Vogel smiled. “In fact, I'd love to.”

Chapter Text

Anton Vogel had presence, there was no denying it.

Not even Aberforth, who would throw goat dung at the Minister of Magic if he was having a bad day, seemed entirely immune. Vogel was a tall, elegant man, clearly very well educated. Although he was German, his English was impeccable, betraying only a slight accent on more challenging words. Without a doubt, even though he was older, he remained a charming and very charismatic man. It was easy to see why he had been elected Mugwump earlier that year.

“You must be wondering why I came here in person,” Vogel asked, seconds after Albus handed him a glass of the finest drink he could find at home.

“Indeed, it’s quite unexpected,” Albus admitted, sitting down on the sofa beside his brother. “But I have reasons to suspect that it has something to do with the murder of my parents and, of course, the kidnapping of my sister.”

Vogel's eyebrows rose discreetly as he took a measured sip of his wine.

“If I said this connection didn’t exist, I’d be lying,” he admitted. “Although that’s not the main reason I came here.”

Aberforth shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Can’t you cut all this suspense and get to the part where you explain what the big boss is doing in this dump?”

“That’s precisely the point,” Vogel replied, unperturbed by Aberforth’s irritation. “I’m not the big boss.”

“You’re not?” Aberforth asked. “Everyone knows that you are the Mugwump!”

“Yes, I am the Mugwump,” Vogel confirmed patiently. “As it happens, my position is, by nature, temporary. The truth is, I’m nothing more than a substitute; I’m only in power until the real...”  and Vogel made quotation marks with his fingers to repeat Aberforth’s words.  “‘big boss’ is revealed.”

“I don’t understand...” Aberforth confessed quietly.

“He’s talking about the Supreme Alpha,” Albus explained to his brother, eliciting a smile of approval from Vogel. “The Alpha predestined to reign over all wizardry.”

“Wasn’t that just some stupid legend?” Aberforth asked, as sincere as ever.

“It’s not a legend, and it’s certainly not stupid,” Vogel quickly clarified, frowning at the impolite comment. “The Supreme Alpha exists, just like the Sacred Omega.”

“Sacred Omega?” Aberforth exclaimed. “I’d heard this story about the Supreme Alpha before, but Sacred Omega is new to me!”

And once again, Albus set out to explain.

“You’ve heard of it, Aberforth, only under another name: Qilin.”

Aberforth let out an “ah!”, confirming that he was indeed familiar with the term.

“Apparently, you understand what I’m talking about,” Vogel said approvingly, then went on, as if reciting a memorised passage from a book. “And the sacred omega will bow before its alpha, and the alpha will leave a mark upon its omega, and together the supreme ones will reign and bring prosperity to the world...”

“All right, all right… what’s all this gibberish got to do with us?” Aberforth interrupted, and even though he was used to his brother, Albus still looked at him, stunned by the rudeness, and was even more surprised when Aberforth gave him the baffled look of someone who couldn’t quite grasp why he was being silently reprimanded.

If Vogel was annoyed by the abrupt interruption, he didn’t let it show.

“We recently received a revelation that the Qilin was to be born on the night of the last full moon,” Vogel explained patiently.

“Revelation?” Aberforth repeated. “Like a prophecy?”

“Exactly,” Vogel confirmed, and, noticing the disbelief on Albus’s face, he asked, “You don’t believe in prophecies?”

“It’s not quite that,” Albus replied softly. “I just think they tend to be a little overrated.”

Vogel chuckled.

“You’re not entirely wrong. Merlin alone knows how many prophecies we’ve got on file that never came to pass,” he admitted. “But there’s a good reason for us to keep and carefully analyse each one of them.”

“Mr. Vogel...”

“Call me Anton, please.”

“...Anton,” Albus amended. “Would you mind being a little clearer? What, exactly, are you trying to tell us?”

Vogel drained his glass before replying:

“I mean that this particular prophecy has proven to be very true.”

A brief silence followed, no more than a few seconds,  but it was all Albus needed to connect the dots and reach a conclusion.

“Ariana?” he asked, turning pale.

“That’s what we thought at first,” Vogel said, then added, “but we later learned it wasn’t quite the kind of birth the prophecy referred to.”

Albus sprang up from the sofa as if struck by lightning.

“Have you gone mad?” he demanded, trembling from head to foot.

“I know this may be difficult to accept, but...”

“This... this is nonsense!” Albus burst out, before Vogel could finish his sentence.

“Can someone please explain what’s going on?” Aberforth asked, utterly perplexed.

“You’re wrong!” Albus insisted, ignoring his brother’s question. “Terribly wrong! Ariana isn’t the Qilin, let alone...”

“Ariana isn’t the Qilin,” Vogel agreed, unperturbed. “You are.”

“What?” Aberforth exclaimed, also rising from the sofa in astonishment. “Are you saying the Qilin... is my brother?”

“I’m not,” Albus cut in. “They’re wrong.”

Vogel merely smiled at the denial.

“I’ve seen your school records, Albus,” he revealed. “Without a doubt, you’re a brilliant student! Your teachers speak of you in the highest terms. Even the Headmaster admires your magic...”

“That’s very flattering, but it’s got nothing to do with what we’re dealing with here,” Albus said calmly.

“Intelligent as few others, perceptive... prodigious,” Vogel went on regardless.

“That means absolutely nothing!”

“The prophetess was very specific when she mentioned your family name...”

The information seemed to unsettle Albus slightly, but he soon insisted.

“She’s wrong.”

“You became an omega on the full moon...”

“Coincidence.”

Vogel took a deep breath.

“You bear the mark of the Qilin on your back.”

“No, I don’t!” Albus shot back,  and for a few seconds, the tension melted from his face.

At that point, Aberforth spoke up.

“Yes, you do,” he said. “I saw it.”

Albus looked at his brother, stunned, and then, as if to prove his point, walked toward the nearest mirror and quickly pulled off the white shirt he was wearing over his head.  

“Wh-what?” he stammered, unable to believe what his own eyes were telling him. “That's not... that's never...”  

Vogel rose from his chair and walked over to where Albus was standing, unhurriedly.  

“As I said, I can imagine how difficult it must be to accept this new reality,” he said softly, while Albus craned his neck to get a better look at the pattern of marks that had formed on his back without his noticing.  

“It can't be... there must be another explanation for this,” Albus said to himself, as if willing his mind to find another explanation.  

“You are the Qilin, Albus!” Vogel insisted. “The most sacred of all omegas! The most powerful! Please believe me!”  

Albus's eyes left the mirror and fixed on Vogel.  

“Does that mean I can have my wand back?”  

“That's right!” Aberforth said, crossing his arms. “If my brother is really as sacred and powerful as you say, then give him back his wand, damn it!”  

“I'd love to,” Vogel replied gently, “but this matter falls under the jurisdiction of your country's Ministry of Magic, and they've decided that it's too dangerous to allow such a powerful omega to wield a wand without an alpha nearby to control him.”  

Aberforth scratched his chin.  

“So you're saying that, even with all this Qilin crap, my brother will only be able to get his wand back after I become an alpha and take responsibility for him?”  

“Oh, no!” Vogel shook his head. “Your brother will only be allowed to use magic after he gets married.”  

“Married?!” Albus asked, stunned.  

Vogel looked at Albus.  

“But of course! An omega as powerful as you cannot go into heat without... proper supervision.”  

That was enough to really annoy Aberforth.  

“Bollocks! Albus just went into heat and nothing bad happened!”

“Nothing happened because the wand was removed at the exact moment he showed the first symptoms,” he explained. “It was extremely fortunate that Albus had his first heat in a place prepared for it, with people who know how to deal with this kind of thing.”

Aberforth wasn't giving up, though.  

“So all someone has to do is take his wand away every time my brother goes into heat,  and everything will be fine!” Aberforth argued once again.  

“And who would be able to take the wand from the hands of the sacred omega?” Vogel asked.  

“What? Just watch me!” Aberforth blustered. Though he clearly imagined himself a lion, to the two older wizards he looked more like a skittish kitten.  

“I’m sorry,” Vogel finally put an end to the discussion. “It’s the safest way for everyone.”  

Albus stared into the gray eyes of the leader of the Wizards' Confederation.  

“My sister is missing! I need to find her!” he pleaded. “Please...”  

Vogel couldn’t contain himself and placed his right hand on the omega's shoulder.  

“I’m doing everything I can!” he assured him. “Believe me!”  

But Albus was unable to sit idly by. Especially now that he knew the cause of all this...  

“I promised at my parents' grave that I would not rest until I found my sister!”  

“And I swore at the moment of my inauguration that I would keep the next Qilin safe until he chose his alpha,” Vogel replied seriously.  

“I don't need anyone to keep me safe!” Albus retorted. “I'm perfectly capable of protecting myself!”  

“Not during the heat,” Vogel countered.  

“If you insist on thinking that way, perhaps there’s no reason to prolong this conversation,” Albus said as politely as he could, though a chill lingered in his voice. 

“I’m truly sorry,” Vogel replied, sounding genuinely sincere. “But I hope you understand that my concern is not limited to your safety, but also involves the future of the entire wizarding world.”  

Without deigning to respond, Albus simply pointed to the door under his brother’s watchful gaze. Realising he was no longer welcome, the Mugwump shrugged and walked to the exit.  

“Albus...” Aberforth began to speak as soon as his brother bolted the door. 

“Tomorrow,” Albus interrupted him gently. “Today has been a very difficult day. I need... to rest.”  

Aberforth said nothing, simply standing there as he watched his brother slowly climb the stairs.

The sun rose the next day, finding Albus still awake in his bed, going over all the recent events in his mind. The murder of his parents, the kidnapping of his sister, his first heat... 

The loss of his magic.  

Albus looked at his right hand,  the one he used to hold his wand, feeling as if an essential part of himself had been ripped away. But that was no time to feel sorry for himself. He needed to act! Perhaps there was a law, or some other way, to reverse the whole situation. All he needed to do now was bury himself in the oldest books and records and search.  

And there was no one better to help him than his friend and neighbour, Bathilda Bagshot. Perhaps there was some important information hidden in his historian friend's library.  

The thought made Albus jump out of bed immediately, and he took off his pajamas, ready to take a cold shower and wash away any remnants of sleep.  That’s when his eyes fell on the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Swallowing hard, Albus approached it slowly, turning his back to see once again the reflection of the spots that had appeared. He tried to reach the marks with his fingertips, finding them very similar to the scales of a dragon.  

It was ironic to think that, on top of being a wolf like everyone else, he was also a Qilin. And then a question popped into his mind: Did wolves eat Qilin? Was he some bizarre mixture of predator and prey?  

Maybe he was just prey...  

With a sigh, Albus tried to push those thoughts out of his head and prepare himself for another difficult day. He took a shower and opted for wizard robes, more comfortable for a full day of research.  As he descended the stairs, Albus was surprised to see his brother already sitting at the table, staring into space with a mug full of coffee.  

“Couldn't sleep either?” Albus asked.

Aberforth looked at him as if he had just awakened from a trance.  

“I spent the night with ideas hammering away in my head,” he admitted, dejectedly.  

The moment he sat down in front of his brother, a peculiar smell caught Albus's attention.  

“Did you put something in your coffee?”  

“I found a bottle of rum hidden under Dad's cupboard,” Aberforth replied indifferently.  

Two seconds of silence followed.  

“You're only fourteen, Aberforth,” Albus said softly.  

“The only ones who cared are six feet under now,” Aberforth replied bitterly, pulling the mug toward him and taking a long sip.

Albus took a deep breath and gently lifted the mug from his brother’s hands.  

“I do care.”  

Aberforth shrugged.  

“Unfortunately for you, I'm all you have left, aren't I?”  

The fragility of the question took Albus by surprise. After all, Aberforth was still just a boy.  

“You...” Albus stopped mid-sentence, glancing suspiciously at the drink Aberforth had prepared. “...and Ariana.”  

“Ariana is dead,” Aberforth said dryly.  

A shiver ran through Albus's body.  

“Please don't say that,” he scolded his brother.  

“It's just the truth,” Aberforth insisted. “What do you think happened when they found out she wasn't the Qilin?” And after a short pause: “When they found out she wasn't you?”  

The intent to hurt was so obvious that Albus felt his throat tighten.  

“I'm not to blame for any of this,” Albus said so quietly, as if trying to convince himself.  

Aberforth's silence hurt more than a punch. Feeling his chest tighten, Albus finally risked a sip of the drink his brother had prepared.

Horrible.  

“I must return to Hogwarts today,” Aberforth announced after a few seconds.  

“I'm glad to hear that. Finishing your education is very important.”  

Albus imagined he would hear some protest or acid comment about how Aberforth had no interest in completing his education, but instead, his brother preferred to break off a piece of goat cheese and only then ask,  “What are you going to do?”  

“I'm not sure yet,” Albus replied. “It all depends on me finding a way to get my wand back.”  

“You know there's only one way to do that,” Aberforth said, not afraid to verbalize the reality he himself had been refusing to accept.  

Albus sighed; he didn't want to marry anyone, he didn't even want to be an omega! But everyone around him seemed to insist on that idea, as if there were no other option!  

“You must understand the enormous responsibility I now carry, the wizarding world…” Albus tried to justify himself.  

“To hell with the wizarding world!” Aberforth interrupted him abruptly. “You marry the first alpha who shows up, get your wand back, and then get the hell out!”  

“I'll find a way to sort this all out,” Albus promised. “Just concentrate on your studies and leave the rest to me.”  

Aberforth rose from the table and a short silence followed before he plucked up the courage to ask one last question.  

“Will you write?”  

Albus smiled.  

“Every day.”

Bathilda was very kind and let him explore her library as freely as he wished.  

Albus spent the first few hours searching for a law, or any information that might help him recover his wand. But after hours of poring over books and records, he found absolutely nothing. The world was unforgiving to omegas, and his case would be no exception.  

Regarding the Qilin, Albus found countless books and ancient documents, including a very detailed drawing of its beastly form. With his stomach churning, he recognised in the drawing the same pattern of scales marked on his back.  

But many points in the story still remained unclear.  

Bathilda interrupted his research with a pot of tea and some freshly baked cookies, so fragrant and inviting that Albus couldn’t help but recall he hadn’t eaten anything besides the spiked coffee his brother had made. More than his stomach, the tea Bathilda had prepared seemed to warm his soul.  

“So good!” Albus praised as he chewed on a cookie. “Just what I needed!”  

Bathilda smiled briefly at the compliment.  

“Did you find anything?”  

“Only… more questions,” Albus said, setting his cup on the saucer and bringing his fingertips together. “These documents reveal things about the Qilin that I… can hardly even conceive.”  

“What do you mean, my boy?” Bathilda asked, holding her cup a little more firmly to allow the enchanted teapot to fill it with tea.  

Albus rummaged through some loose scrolls for a few moments until he found one unrolled on the table before them.  

“Here, for example,” he explained, pointing to a paragraph written in elaborate calligraphy. “It says that the Qilin is able to see into people's hearts.”  Albus laughed at himself. “I swear, I would truly like to have that power…”  

Bathilda stirred her tea for a few seconds, thoughtfully.

“Each Qilin is different,” she finally commented, her tone serious. “Once reborn, the Qilin develops the skills necessary to survive and find its alpha. And although there are some commonalities, you can't count on all the skills you find in these documents.”  

“That's a shame... I was really hoping I could rely on a phoenix, as it says in this book,” Albus said with a smile, rocking a small golden-covered book on his lap. “It would be amazing to be able to travel to any corner of the world in the blink of an eye.”  

“No one knows the future...” Bathilda replied, patting the boy lightly on the shoulder.  

“And your nephew?” he asked, eager for a change of subject. “When does he arrive?”  

“Later today, I presume,” Bathilda replied. “You know, just like you, he often sends me letters filled with questions about the History of Magic. A brilliant boy, almost as brilliant as you, and he has recently matured into an alpha. Perhaps you should get to know him a little better...”  

“I know what you think about my whole situation, but... I don't think this is the best time to meet anyone,” he confessed. “You know I'm going through a very difficult phase and... I may not be the best company.”  

“Nonsense!” Bathilda commented. “I can assure you that my nephew would be delighted to meet you. Who knows, perhaps he could even help you. After all, you two are the same age.”  

Albus couldn't help but think how nice it would be if someone could really help him, but in his current situation, he couldn't afford to delude himself in that regard.  

“The tea was lovely, Madame Bathilda,” Albus said with a smile. “But I think I need to get back to reading this...”  

Bathilda placed the cup on the saucer, resigned.  

“If you need me, just call,” she said.

The sun had already disappeared over the horizon when Albus finally decided it was time to go home. Bathilda insisted he stay for dinner, her excitement at her nephew's imminent arrival evident, but he politely declined.  

He didn't want to meet anyone. He didn't want to be connected to any alpha.  

When he got home, Albus couldn't help thinking that the place that had once been the sweet home of a happy family was now almost a prison, where he would live alone and wasted, cut off from everything, even his magic.  

He opened the door to his house, exhausted and discouraged, already considering the possibility of going upstairs and throwing himself, clothes and all, onto his bed.  

"There's food on the stove," a friendly voice called from the semi-darkness. "Your brother left it for you. I hope you're hungry, it doesn’t look very appetizing."  

Unable to hide his surprise, Albus took a few steps toward the owner of the voice. Anton Vogel was sitting cross-legged on the living room sofa, with an empty glass on the small table beside him.  

"Appearances can often be deceiving," Albus replied gently, then added, "I confess that your presence here has surprised me a little."  

"Your brother let me in," Vogel explained. "It was very kind of him to let me wait here when he had to return to Hogwarts a quarter of an hour ago.” 

And Merlin knew how averse to kindness his brother could be!  

"I thought you had already returned to Berlin," Albus suggested.  

"My mission here is not yet over," Vogel replied softly. "Ensuring your safety is far more important than any task that may be waiting for me in Berlin."  

Albus took a few more steps toward Vogel.  

"I'm afraid you've made it very clear that you're not willing to help me," he said bitterly.  

"On the contrary, there's nothing I want more than that," Vogel assured him, unafraid to look him in the eye. "That's why I took it upon myself to personally handle your sister's case. I can assure you that my best men are working on it day and night, without rest."  

"I appreciate that, but given your refusal to help me get my wand back, there's nothing else you can do for me," Albus insisted.  

Vogel rose from the sofa, and although he was at least twenty years older, Albus couldn’t deny that his presence held a certain fascination. It was as if the man before him embodied all the power Albus, at that moment, wished he possessed, enough to move heaven and earth in search of his sister, without needing anyone’s permission. Or perhaps it was his omega side, howling to the sky, always searching for a protector, a partner…  

"I never said I don't want to help you get your wand back," Vogel assured him. "But understand that I am bound by the legal constraints that my position imposes on me."  

Albus blinked, confused.  

"What are you getting at, sir?"

“Please, Albus, I’ve already told you that you needn’t address me formally,” Vogel said with a smile. Instead of answering the question, he added, “I would very much like to show you something that would certainly help you understand my position better. Would you accompany me for a few minutes?”  

Albus hesitated, but then nodded. Vogel smiled and offered him his arm.  

At the touch of Vogel’s arm, the world around them began to spin, dissolving into a whirlpool. A terrible nausea overcame Albus, and it was with some effort that he prevented himself from vomiting. Long seconds passed, many more than in all his previous apparitions, until everything stopped spinning, and Albus found himself in a place completely unlike his home in Godric’s Hollow.  

“Where are we?” Albus asked, glancing around at the vast and luxurious hall.  

“In Bhutan,” Vogel replied simply.  

“I thought it was forbidden to apparate from one country to another,” Albus murmured, surprised.  

“Not for someone in my position, with my power,” Vogel replied with a small smile. “Do you see this place? It is a palace, known by many as the Abode of the Qilin. At the moment, it is closed, awaiting the return of the sacred omega and the alpha chosen by him, yet it remains quite impressive, doesn’t it?”  

“I had read something about this place,” Albus commented, admiring every detail.  

“Come here, I want to show you something,” Vogel said, taking Albus’s hand with extreme delicacy to guide him.  

They walked along a long red carpet until they reached a gigantic door, stretching from floor to ceiling, its wood intricately carved. Vogel waved his wand, and the door swung open, allowing Albus to enter a second hall, even more luxurious and spacious. The numerous windows were closed, but with a slight flick of his wand, the entire hall lit up, revealing two golden thrones in the corner opposite where they stood.

“This is the place that all alphas in the world would like to occupy,” Vogel said, pointing to the throne on the left. “And next to it is the throne reserved for the Qilin, the sacred omega.”

“Sacred...” Albus repeated softly, his eyes fixed on the gold-covered throne. The seat was lined with red velvet, and every detail was adorned with exuberant phoenixes in full flight, their flaming feathers studded with hundreds of tiny rubies.

“Yes, Albus, the Qilin is considered sacred to most wizards, a very special omega, a symbol of peace and prosperity,” Vogel said before turning back to him. “Like... a god himself.”

“I... I'm not a god,” Albus protested, uncomfortable with the comparison.

“As long as you sit on this throne, you may command whatever you desire,” Vogel assured him. “Whatever you want, Albus!”

“I just want to regain my magic and find my sister,” Albus replied, before something on the alpha's throne caught his eye,  a mark carved high up on the golden backrest. “I... I know this symbol...”

“You do?” Vogel asked, looking in the same direction as Albus to better understand what he was referring to.

A triangle, inside it a circle, and a straight line crossing the two from top to bottom.

“It's a representation of the Deathly Hallows,” Albus said, barely able to believe he was looking at the same symbol that had never failed to fascinate him since childhood.

“Oh, indeed...” Vogel replied, satisfied. “Here, in this place, naturally under intense surveillance, are the three sacred objects: the cloak of the alpha, the stone of the omega, and... the most powerful wand in the world, loyal only to the supreme alpha and his omega.”

“The Hallows... they're here?” Albus asked.

“Of course they are,” Vogel confirmed.

“And I can see them?”

“Unfortunately, no one has access to them,” Vogel said with a smile. “The Hallows are only revealed to the world on the day of the coronation.”

Albus was speechless. Never in his life had he imagined that one day he would have so much power at his fingertips. Vogel gently placed his hand on his shoulder and then added:

“Imagine what you could do when the most powerful wand in the world is in your hands,” he said. “What kind of spells would a wizard as powerful as you be able to perform? And all you have to do to claim it is... bow down.”

Albus's gaze was lost in the golden symbol for a few seconds.

“I can't...” he said weakly.

“Why not?” Vogel asked. “Why not accept that you have the whole world at your fingertips?”

Albus remained very still, unable to answer Vogel's question.

“I imagine you're not ready for this yet, are you?” Vogel asked gently. “That's okay. It was never my intention to pressure you.”

And with that, Vogel protectively wrapped his arms around Albus's shoulders and led him gently back towards the exit.

“There is another way I can help you,” Vogel suggested as the doors to the throne room closed behind them. “If you're not ready to take your place as Qilin, I can offer you another way out.”

“Way out? What way out?”

Vogel's features soon softened, and he took both of the omega's hands in his.

“Marry me, Albus,” he proposed.

“Wh-what?” Albus asked, shocked, almost instinctively trying to take a step back, but was drawn back by a gentle tug on his hand from Vogel.

“If you agree to be my omega, even if only temporarily, you shall have your wand back,” Vogel assured him. “And you'll get everything you want!”

Albus could hardly believe he was hearing this proposal.

“Are you proposing a sham marriage?”

“Not at all!” Vogel exclaimed, frowning in offence. “I would never be capable of such a fraud! No, Albus, what I am proposing is a real marriage, a public and legitimate union.”

“But... we don't even know each other...” Albus replied weakly.

“I know there are no feelings between us,” Vogel hastened to explain. “How could there be? I am much older, and as you said, we don't even know each other. But this would not be the first or last loveless marriage. And one thing is certain: we both have shared interests.”

Albus stared intently at Vogel, his serene blue eyes seeming to search the depths of his soul.

“And what would your interest be?” he asked. “What do you want in return for your... kindness?”

Vogel never once looked away from Albus’s gaze; he looked at him openly, took a deep breath, and replied:

“I just want a chance. A single chance to show you that I am worthy of you! I want you to allow yourself to trust me and be mine one day.”

“Anton...” Albus said hesitantly.

“I know I can be your alpha, Albus!” Vogel interrupted him. “All I ask is a chance to prove my worth. And if you decide I'm not the right person, I give you my word, I'll let you go.”

“And... how can I know that you’ll truly keep your word?” Albus asked, very seriously.

“I can even make a perpetual vow, if you wish,” Vogel suggested. “I can swear that I will let you go if you decide you don't want to stay by my side. What do you think?”

“You... would do that?” Albus asked, undecided.

Vogel smiled. “I am absolutely confident that I will be able to prove my worth to you,” he assured him. “And that I shall be the alpha who stands by your side in your future reign.”

There was no lie there, nothing to hide. Vogel had made all his intentions clear and even offered guarantees. If he agreed, Albus could regain his magic and still count on the help of the International Confederation to find his sister. And only time would tell if Vogel was, in fact, the right alpha.

Who knows, maybe one day he would actually bow down and bare his neck to him?

“I accept,” Albus finally agreed, his heart pounding.

Vogel could hardly contain his happiness. With a broad smile, he took Albus's hands and kissed them before assuring him:

“You won't regret it.”

Chapter Text

The ceremony was as discreet as a wedding for a political leader of Anton Vogel's stature could be. The guest list was as restricted as possible; journalists were banned from covering the ceremony, and spells were cast to blur any photographs anyone might attempt to take of the newlyweds. Even so, in the corridors of the International Confederation, there was no other topic of conversation than the leader's union with a mysterious and young British omega.

Albus sent an invitation to Aberforth and, to his surprise, his brother wrote back saying that he couldn’t miss any more classes and therefore would not be able to attend the wedding. Albus was tempted to reply by asking since when classes had become so important to his younger brother, but Vogel advised him to be understanding and give Aberforth time to get used to the changes.

In the end, only Vogel's guests attended, and the ceremony went off without a hitch. Naturally, the wedding night was spent at the most elegant hotel in Berlin.

“We can wait for the heat if you wish,” Vogel delicately suggested as he loosened his bow tie. “But you know that magical unions are only considered valid after... consumption, don't you?”

Albus couldn't afford to waste so much time.

Still, his fingers trembled so much when he tried to unbutton his pearly wedding robe that Vogel had to help him. The first kiss came the moment the omega's clothes fell to the floor, as awkward as a kiss between two people who barely knew each other and had come together out of pure convenience could be.

Vogel smelled of cigars and men's cologne. 

Albus would be lying if he said sleeping with Anton was difficult. Unlike many alphas, he was quite gentle and caring, and Albus, after all, was an omega. Lying on the luxurious bed in the most expensive suite of the best hotel in Berlin, Albus opened his legs for Vogel, his mind on his wand, yet ready to take pleasure. 

Vogel was, without a doubt, a very hard-working man.

The next morning, Albus woke up to the sound of birds singing outside. Sunlight filled the room, gentle and warm. On the dresser, the omega found a huge bouquet of flowers with a note explaining that Vogel had been called away early to deal with urgent matters at the Confederation headquarters. Breakfast was served in the room shortly thereafter and seemed to have been specially made to please him, with bread, cakes, and sweets of his choice. For the first time since the death of his parents and the disappearance of his sister, Albus allowed himself to truly enjoy the taste of a good meal. While savoring a slice of toast smeared with raspberry jam, Albus even let himself imagine that Vogel might surprise him by arriving from the Confederation with his wand already in hand. It was a shame he hadn't woken up in time to join him. It would have been interesting to find out everything that had been investigated about Ariana's case; it would certainly help him decide how to assist in the search.

Checking the clock on the bedside table, Albus concluded that Aberforth must have already finished breakfast and was probably attending the first classes of the day; it was then that he felt an immense longing for Hogwarts and the life he had had so recently, surrounded by books and magic.

Oh, how he missed his magic! Albus did not consider himself an anxious person; on the contrary, calmness was one of his most notable qualities. Even so, he could hardly contain himself at the prospect of finally getting his wand back. He tried to distract himself with a bath, but even a long soak in the warm, scented water with bath salts was not enough to make him think of anything other than his magic.

His magic! His magic! His magic!

Faced with the possibility of recovering his wand, the truth, which he would never tell anyone, was that the existence of a sister he didn’t even know took a back seat, or rather, first place on the long list of things he would do the moment he recovered his wand and could once again cast spells without the Ministry knowing his every move. Nothing could be more natural, after all; he was a wizard, born and raised in a world of magic.

After a long, relaxing bath, Albus wrapped himself in the hotel's fluffy bathrobe, embroidered especially with his name in golden letters. The bathroom mirror was still fogged with steam from the hot bath, and Albus ran his hand across the glass to admire himself for a few seconds before returning to the bedroom. He had undoubtedly lost a little weight since reaching maturity, but he also noticed a different glow in his eyes and hair and wondered if it was because he was an omega.

Most likely.

Humming, Albus left the bathroom and opened the wardrobe to choose the clothes he would wear. He had been a little embarrassed when his bags were taken away the day before under the pretext that they would be unpacked and his clothes tidied by hotel staff, but Vogel argued that he needed to get used to his new standard of living, and Albus found himself with no choice but to agree.

However, when he opened the wardrobes, instead of the worn-out clothes he had brought with him from England, Albus found a magnificent collection of sumptuous wizard robes in a wide variety of colours, made from the most expensive fabrics and brocades. Surprised and delighted, he took a closer look at his new clothes; it was the first time he had the opportunity to wear wizard robes with expansion charms on the inside pockets, so he spent a few minutes filling his pockets with objects much larger than they appeared able to hold, just to test them.

Vogel really spared no effort in trying to please him. Everything around him seemed to have been carefully designed to make him happy.

After some deliberation, he opted for blue robes made of a fabric so shiny it seemed enchanted, embroidered with stones so beautiful and luxurious that Albus barely recognised himself when he saw his reflection in the mirror. 

“So this is what it means to be the omega of such a powerful alpha?” Albus thought as he combed his hair.

Finally ready, he sat at the desk and wrote a long letter to Aberforth on the hotel’s letterhead, telling him about the latest events. He wrote about the ceremony the day before, Anton’s generosity, a little about Berlin, and, of course, his hope of being able to use his magic again soon.

Vogel opened the suite door just as Albus closed the envelope. The omega tucked the letter into the inside pocket of his robes and rose from his chair to greet him, his eyes shining with anticipation at the thought of getting his wand back.

“You look stunning!” Vogel said, clearly impressed when he saw him. “This colour matches your eyes perfectly!”

Albus smiled at the compliment, allowing himself to be admired for a few seconds, still waiting for Vogel to reach into his pocket and pull out his wand, but that, in the end, did not happen.

“Something wrong?” Vogel asked gently, noticing the frustration in Albus’s eyes.

“No, it's nothing...” Albus replied, struggling to keep his voice neutral. “I just... had a slight hope that you would bring me my wand...”

“Ah, I see...” Vogel replied as he took off his coat. “I'm sorry, I don't have it with me. But know that I've already had my secretary prepare the paperwork to request your wand from the British Ministry. You can imagine that the fact that we got married in another country requires some extra paperwork...”

“To be frank, I expected that your position might grant you some... privileges,” Albus suggested softly.

Vogel laughed pleasantly as he hung his coat on a hanger. “You'd be surprised,” he commented, amused. “But don't worry, I'm sure the British Ministry will take my position into consideration and expedite the paperwork as much as possible.”

“When do you think I'll be able to get my wand back?” Albus asked, full of anticipation.

“By the end of the week, I believe,” Vogel assured him calmly. “Unfortunately, the Ministry's tracker can only be deactivated with a specific spell, which I can only cast once I have your wand back.”

Albus took a deep breath, trying to come to terms with it. It wasn’t so bad; after all, he would only have to wait a few more days.

“What about my sister?” he asked. “Any news of her?”

“Unfortunately, no. We’re waiting for the British Ministry to send us some memories that are essential to the case—”

“I thought the Confederation itself had collected all the memories of the Hollow residents,” Albus commented, causing Vogel to look up at him.

“Ah, unfortunately not all of them,” Vogel immediately lamented. “But don't worry, I assure you it won't be long before we get the first bit of news.”

“All right,” Albus nodded reluctantly, before continuing, “Just one more thing, Anton... could you get me an owl? I left mine with my brother, and with all the rush of the wedding, I didn't have time to get another one.”

“Ah, as for that, you can count on the Confederation's courier. I guarantee your letters will arrive much faster,” Vogel replied helpfully. “Don't tell me you already have letters to send?”

“Just one,” Albus replied, taking the envelope out of his pocket. “It's for my brother.”

“May I?” Vogel asked, pulling out his wand. When Albus nodded, Vogel touched the letter with the tip of his wand, making it disappear. “There! Now your letter is in the Confederation's pouch and should reach the recipient in a few minutes.”

Albus’s smile at the simple spell was so sad that Vogel immediately noticed something was wrong.

“You should be happy,” he said, then added, guessing, “But you're sad because of your wand.”

Albus lowered his head. There was no point in talking about it. Vogel had already explained everything he needed to know. Insisting on that point was pure immaturity.

Still, Vogel smiled sympathetically and moved a little closer, just enough so that he could lift his chin very gently with the inside of his index finger.

“Hey! You're not alone,” Vogel said softly. “I promise I'll protect you until we get your wand back, and if you let me, even after that.”

And even though Vogel clearly didn't quite understand the real reasons for his sadness, Albus still felt a little better after hearing those kind words.

They spent the entire afternoon walking around Berlin, eating, drinking, and talking about all kinds of things, and for the first time since the last full moon, Albus allowed himself to laugh, at least a little. It was strange to be getting to know his own husband only after the wedding, but Albus really enjoyed the time spent with Vogel, and although he didn't have any deeper feelings for him, his husband seemed to be a good companion, perhaps even a good alpha.

They returned straight to the huge mansion where Vogel lived, with Albus holding the alpha by the arm.

“The house is absolutely secure,” Vogel informed him, pointing to the wizards standing guard at the gate. “I've doubled the internal and external surveillance, and the security spells have been reinforced so that no one can enter or leave without my knowledge.”

Albus looked around, genuinely impressed.

“Is that really necessary?” he asked. “I'm perfectly capable of defending myself, I just need my wan—”

“You can never be too careful,” Vogel interrupted him, and after looking around, he added, “You're too precious, Albus! Too precious!”

They went upstairs and Vogel showed him his room. Inside, in addition to a bed even larger than the one they had shared on their wedding night, Albus found everything anyone could want. A bathroom the size of his house, a gigantic wardrobe crammed with clothes; Albus noticed that, in addition to the clothes that had been brought from the hotel, countless other items, shoes, and accessories of all kinds and colors were also arranged in an orderly gradient.

“The staff has been instructed to provide everything you need,” Vogel explained, very seriously. “Count on their help for any request, no matter how small or whimsical. There is an extensive library on the first floor, which I bet you will enjoy visiting. I am a little busy, but I will be at your disposal for whatever you need,” Vogel said with a smile. “This is your home from now on, Albus. Leave everything in my hands.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Albus said with a smile.

“I’m not being kind,” Vogel said firmly, caressing Albus’s face with extreme delicacy. “You are now my husband and, very soon, if you allow it, of course, you will be my omega.”

Albus couldn't help but smile.

“Thank you, Anton.”

Contrary to expectations, his wand did not arrive that week or the next. Although Vogel assured him that he was doing everything in his power to speed up the process, Albus soon concluded that it was time to call on his own contacts. He wrote a few letters explaining his concerns and asking for advice on how to speed up the process of having his wand returned, but the few replies he received were in the same vein as his friend Bathilda’s words, asking him to be a little more patient. After all, relations between the International Confederation of Wizards and the British Ministry of Magic were not exactly cordial, and such raids were, unfortunately, quite common.

Bathilda had even added a short history lesson, explaining that the Confederation had always accused the Ministry of ignoring guidelines it found inconvenient, often acting on its own. She even suspected that, precisely for this reason, the fact that he was married to the Mugwump might close more doors than it opened.

“I can't say your friend is wrong,” Vogel commented wearily. “It's not uncommon to have diplomatic problems with the British Ministry of Magic. I wouldn't be surprised if they chose to take revenge by delaying the return of my spouse's wand.”

“That's... outrageous!” Albus replied, indignant. “Absolutely arbitrary!”

“Don't worry, they can't delay the return of the wand forever,” Vogel pondered, trying to reassure him. “Getting us angry is exactly what they want.”

“And they're succeeding!” Albus said icily.

Vogel placed his right hand on Albus's shoulder. “Everything will work out sooner or later,” he assured him, then immediately frowned. “For now, we have much more... delicate problems to deal with.”

Albus let out a sigh. “I know,” he said dejectedly. “The full moon is approaching, and with it…”

“Your heat,” Vogel finished softly, then added, “I know it’s a… delicate time for omegas, and I’d really like to help you. But, of course, I’ll only do what you want!”

“I... I don't know...” Albus replied, pondering the appropriateness of taking advantage of the goodwill of someone who, even though married to him, was not, in fact, his alpha.

Noticing his indecision, Vogel gently took Albus's hands before asking, “Do you consider me your friend?”

Albus couldn't help but return Vogel's smile. “Of course, Anton. You've done so much for me...”

Vogel's fingers caressed the hands he was holding. “And the night we spent together right after the wedding wasn't so bad, was it?”

Albus immediately lowered his eyes, feeling his face grow hot. Not daring to say anything, he just nodded. Vogel smiled and continued in the same soft tone.

“Will you let me help you?” he asked. “I give you my word that I won't do anything against your will.”

Albus hesitated once more. Without a doubt, Vogel was a very kind alpha, and being so experienced, he would surely be able to help him get through the heat with less suffering. And the memory of everything he had gone through during his first heat still lashed at his soul like a wound, so disturbing that he could hardly bear to think about the possibility of going through it all again alone.

But... what if Vogel took advantage of that moment of vulnerability to...?

“The Qilin cannot be forced, Albus,” Vogel commented, seeming to guess his thoughts. “Marking a Qilin against their will would be like violating a god. I would never be capable of such an atrocity...”

“I know you wouldn't, Anton,” Albus interrupted him, and Vogel squeezed his hands a little tighter. “I... I... would be very grateful if you could help me. If it's not too much trouble, of course.”

Vogel's face lit up with a smile. “It would be my honor!”

The full moon finally arrived, and with it, all the sensations that only an omega would be able to understand. But unlike the painful and lonely heat he had experienced at Hogwarts, this time Vogel was there to hold him in his protective embrace. Just like the first time, during their wedding night, the alpha was extremely caring, responding immediately when Albus begged for him.

“Please, Anton... please,” Albus begged, wanting nothing more than a little relief.

“Shhh... I'm here with you,” Vogel whispered sweetly in his ear as he removed his clothes with all the care in the world, respectful in every gesture.

Albus, however, didn't want all the care in the world. He didn't want the slow rhythm of Vogel's hips as he penetrated him, nor his respectful kisses, nor even the gentle compliments Vogel whispered in his ear. The wolf inside him craved submission, a powerful and domineering alpha, strong enough to claim him with all his might. Albus wanted dirty words; he wanted to feel the thrill of wild intercourse, the intimacy of belonging completely to a real partner, who would fill him and mark him as his own. Albus wanted an alpha who would truly take possession of his body, but what Vogel gave him was good enough, and even though Albus knew better than anyone that he was not his true alpha, a different feeling was born in his chest the moment he felt Vogel inside him.

A bond between wolves.

When it was over and Vogel wrapped him in his arms, still panting, Albus let himself be embraced, relieved to have an alpha to keep him company during such a difficult time.

Something had changed between him and Vogel after the heat they had spent together. Albus couldn't explain it, but there was definitely a new kind of... affection. Parting from Vogel had become a little more difficult than before, and going against his will, even in the smallest things, was no longer so easy.

The question intrigued Albus, and he first sought answers in Vogel's personal library, only to discover that the vast majority of the books were in German, a language he had not yet mastered. It was then that he once again decided to write letters to those who could advise him on the matter. The first was to his old school friend, Elphias Doge, an omega like himself. Albus had learned that his parents had arranged a good marriage for him a few months earlier. Perhaps Doge could tell him something about what he had been feeling lately. The second letter he wrote was to his friend and neighbor, Bathilda Bagshot, who, although not an omega, was very experienced and knew a little about everything. Surely she could shed some light on this new feeling.

Doge replied the very next day with a long letter explaining that, even without love, simply living with an alpha on a daily basis had certain effects. He himself couldn't explain how it happened, but he thought it might be due to pheromones.

It wasn't a good enough explanation.

After a week of waiting for a response from Bathilda, Albus finally decided to take action and the very next day went down to breakfast ready to leave.

“Are you going somewhere?” Vogel asked after wiping his mouth with a linen napkin.

“To the market,” Albus replied, sitting down in the chair next to the head of the table.

“If you want anything from the market, my staff can get it for you,” Vogel suggested before bringing a glass of pumpkin juice to his lips.

“Ah, thank you, but I'd prefer to choose myself,” Albus replied as he filled his cup with hot chocolate.

“To choose a...”

“Owl,” Albus finished the sentence before adding: “The Confederation's courier is very fast, but I suspect it's misplacing some of my letters.”

“Oh, that's not possible,” Vogel laughed. “Our courier service is more efficient than any owl; it handles diplomatic correspondence most of the time.” Seeing that Albus was not convinced, he added: “Albus... I would certainly know if they were misplacing letters.”

“I don't know, Anton...” Albus replied hesitantly. “I haven't received anything from my brother since our wedding, and Madame Bathilda has never taken more than a few hours to respond, however...”

Vogel seemed to consider the problem for a few seconds, still holding the glass of juice in his hands.

“I remember you mentioning that your friend Bathilda is quite elderly,” he said. “Perhaps she has been slow to reply due to the contingencies that older people often have... an illness, for example? As for your brother, you know how he is... I bet he's still a little resentful about our marriage. You don't believe me, but I'm sure he's jealous.”

The idea that his brother Aberforth might be jealous of him was as strange as it was comforting, and Albus couldn't help but smile.

“Still, I'd like to have my own owl,” he insisted, despite feeling an uncomfortable tightness in his chest for somehow rebelling against his alpha.

“In that case, I'll go with you,” Vogel offered. “I don't think it's safe for you to walk alone through the crowded market, and you'll definitely need some help with German when choosing a good owl.”

“I've been working hard on my studies lately,” Albus assured him, with a hint of pride. “I think I've even made a lot of progress in my learning.”

“I'd love to see you put your new knowledge into practice then at the market,” Vogel replied in a pleasant tone, and Albus was unable to refuse his company.

Walking through a street market alongside the Supreme Mugwump made everything a little more difficult. With Aurors responsible for security clearing a path through the small crowd jostling in the streets, it was impossible not to attract all manner of stares and astonished exclamations. 

When they finally reached the magical creature shop, Albus was surprised to see a ‘Closed’ sign floating where the door handle should have been. 

“How can they be closed at this hour?” Albus asked, annoyed. 

“Renovations, perhaps?” Vogel suggested, noticing the building's poor condition. 

“What bad luck...” Albus lamented, still in disbelief. 

“It's okay, Albus, you never really needed an owl. The Confederation's courier—”

“Isn't there any other magical creature shop nearby?” Albus interrupted what would have been yet another defense of the Confederation's excellent postal services. 

“Well... I don't know...” Vogel paused for a few seconds, thinking. “If my memory serves me right, there might be a much smaller one at the very end of the market, but you—”

“Can we go there?” Albus asked hopefully. “If I don't find an owl I like, I promise I won't insist anymore.” 

“Of course, of course we can,” Vogel nodded, smiling. “But we'd have to walk because this place is full of anti-apparition spells. You know, all designed to make customers walk the streets, see the shops, and, of course, buy more.” 

“I don't mind walking a little,” Albus commented, excited. “Although this level of security is, frankly, quite uncomfortable.” 

“You can never be too careful, Albus,” Vogel replied, taking the omega's arm. “You can never be too careful!” 

And so they walked leisurely through the narrow streets of the market, pointing out shop windows here and there, while Albus tried to decipher the German on the store signs, always with Vogel's gentle encouragement who praised him for every correct answer. The two naturally attracted the attention of passersby, but most just went about their business, continuing to enter and leave stores. 

Everything seemed peaceful. Too peaceful.

The first to fall, as soon as they turned the second corner, was the security guard closest to Vogel. No one had time to see the green light; before anyone could react, the Auror fell, dead at their feet. Petrified, Albus looked in the direction from which the Killing Curse had come and saw a figure dressed all in black, not far away.

Were it not for the expression of pure hatred on the man's delicate features, Albus would surely have mistaken him for some kind of deity. He looked almost as young as Albus did and had blond hair falling in curls over his shoulders. His eyes were what caught his attention the most, as they were two different colours, one blue, the other entirely white. Both were equally cold and so terrifying that Albus immediately reached into the inside pocket of his robes, searching for the wand he no longer possessed.

Vogel threw himself on top of Albus in the next second and the two fell to the ground while the other security guards drew their wands and fired spells in all directions. People screamed and ran, while the surrounding stores closed their doors. A window very close to them was hit by a spell and exploded, scattering shards of glass everywhere.

A few more wizards collapsed to the ground before the noise finally stopped and the chaos was gradually replaced by an oppressive silence.

“Albus, are you okay? Albus?” Vogel asked anxiously after a few more seconds of silence.

“I'm fine,” Albus replied calmly.

“Thank Merlin!” Vogel sighed, looking immensely relieved.

A wizard with a huge wart on the tip of his nose poked his head out of a window of one of the nearby shops and shouted: “Assassination attempt!”

“They tried to kill the Mugwump!” another voice shouted from across the street.

And the words soon spread like wildfire throughout the market.

“It's safe now, sir,” an Auror assured him. “It looks like they got away!”

Vogel stood up immediately, redder than Albus had ever seen him before, and after helping the omega up from the floor, he shouted: “You let them escape alive, you fools?!” He brushed some glass shards off his robes. “My omega and I could have died!”

And since none of the wizards responsible for security dared to say anything, he continued: “I want that criminal’s head on my desk by the end of the week, or I will personally end each and every one of your careers!”

“But, sir...” one of them made a feeble attempt to defend himself.

Vogel raised his hand to silence the Auror. “Get us out of here now,” he ordered coldly, pulling Albus toward him with a little more force than expected. A Portkey appeared seconds later, and in the next instant, the two were back home.

“Anton, this...” Albus began to speak, but Vogel was truly furious, pacing back and forth and unable to stop talking:  

“This wasn't an attack on me! They already know you're the Qilin, they know you're with me!”

“Without a doubt, it is a possibility,” Albus acknowledged. “But that spell was aimed at you, not me.”

“They aimed at me, but they wanted you! And worst of all, these—terrorists have inside information! Somehow, they knew we were leaving the house, even though it was such a sudden decision...” The thought made him even more nervous. “I’m going to have to change all the security in the house!”

“Anton, please calm down...” Albus said, surprised at how upset Vogel seemed to be, so different from his usual gentle self.

“Calm down? Don't you understand?! They could have killed me! They could have taken you! And who knows what they would have done to you? Well, know this, Albus, not everyone wants you alive! That vile scum knows very well that a Qilin would never bow down to them, and they resent that! And if they can't have you, then they think no one should!”

Albus remained unmoved.  

“If that's the case, then I need my wand more than ever,” he argued softly.

“Yes, yes, that, and also more security, preferably some who aren’t complete incompetents but actually have two eyes in their heads to see when someone is pulling a wand in our direction!”

“Anton, you really need to calm down,” Albus said before addressing the head of the Aurors, responsible for the entire security scheme, who was still standing near them, pale as a ghost. “I need you to retrieve a memory and take it for investigation. Can you do that, Dornstein?”

The poor Auror straightened at once.  

“Of course I can, sir!”

This caught Vogel's attention.  

“Why do you want them to extract a memory of yours?” he asked. “Did you happen to see anything?”

“I saw the wizard who tried to kill you,” he said, touching his own forehead with his fingertip. “And I have every detail of his face engraved right here.”

Chapter Text

The attack on the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and his omega made headlines across major newspapers worldwide, and yet Albus had not received a single letter from Aberforth.

And Albus knew his brother well enough to know that, however upset he might be at his decision to marry and leave the country without consulting him, Aberforth would not fail to write on such an occasion, if only to confirm that he was well. So, in Albus's mind, there were only two possibilities left: either Aberforth did not read any newspapers, which was not entirely unlikely, or his letters were definitely being intercepted.

However, it was impossible to bring up the subject of the new owl with his husband again; he was so constantly on edge. Vogel absolutely refused to hear of him leaving the house for any reason whatsoever. Completely unwilling to engage in any dialogue involving owls and wands, the alpha only wanted to increase security measures, starting with replacing all the Aurors in his personal guard and a good part of the staff. Henrietta Fischer, his secretary, one of the few subordinates to survive the great purge after the attack, was tasked with investigating the background of every person who had set foot in the house in recent weeks, and at the slightest hint of obscurity, Vogel always ended up opting for dismissal.

“Herr Vogel, please reconsider your decision to dismiss our best maid just because she took two weeks to provide her references...” Henrietta said bravely after yet another unbelievable episode of excess.

“Two weeks is enough time to forge references,” Vogel replied harshly. “Besides, her references are too good, which in itself is suspicious enough.”

The poor beta took off her glasses, breathing deeply, and finally turned a pleading look to Albus, probably hoping for some kind of miracle.

“Anton... how about taking a break?” Albus offered the distraction Fischer so desperately wanted. “Fancy a cup of tea with me?”

Vogel stared at Albus, initially exasperated by the unexpected interruption, but soon his expression softened.

"Let's take a break," he finally conceded with a weary sigh. "Henrietta, have some tea brought in, please."

"But... Herr Vogel, you just told me to dismiss the maid..." she replied, looking unhappy.

"Order the tea before you send her away, then," Vogel said flatly. "Oh, yes! Has the order I placed arrived yet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, bring it here then," he ordered.

Exhausted, Henrietta gave a short curtsy before turning on her heels and disappearing toward the back of the house.

"I've advised you a few times, Anton, but I must insist that you calm down," Albus said gently. "You've been very nervous lately..."

"I don't want to calm down! Not until I see everyone involved in this attack behind bars," Vogel replied grimly.

"I don't think sacking the maid will help you with that," Albus said, amused.

When he saw Albus smile, Vogel’s expression softened completely, and he allowed himself to breathe a little easier.

"You're right, as always," he admitted. "I may be overreacting a little, but, please, understand that I would never forgive myself if something bad happened to you."

"Nothing will happen to me," Albus assured him. "This house is now protected by the Fidelius Charm, you know what that means."

"Yes... and since I am the Secret-Keeper, no one who is not in my strictest confidence will be able to set foot in this place."

"I hope that doesn't mean you intend to keep me locked up here indefinitely," Albus said, meeting Vogel’s gaze with calm but absolute seriousness.

Vogel took a deep breath and sat down beside him on the sofa.

"Of course not, of course not!" he asserted. "But I ask you for just a little patience, Albus. Just while I reorganise all the security. The information that we were going to the market leaked from this house, and that's serious, very serious!"

Albus shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. Vogel had a point; it was impossible to deny. Someone inside had passed on the information that they would be leaving the house together that day.

"All right, Anton," Albus conceded. "I can wait a few more days to buy my owl."

Vogel opened his mouth to reply, but Henrietta’s return, followed by a floating tray, caught both their attention, prompted by the indistinct chirping of a bird.

“Don’t tell me you’ve bought me an owl?” Albus guessed, his eyes sparkling with joy.

The huge golden cage was carefully placed on the coffee table, and Albus was able to admire his new owl in great detail. It was small, grey, with prominent ear tufts.

“It’s a Waldohreule,” Vogel explained excitedly. “It’s very hardy and can fly long distances.”

Albus affectionately stroked the base of the owl’s beak before smiling at the alpha.

“Thank you, Anton,” he said finally. “It’s wonderful.”

“You know I do everything in my power to make you happy, don’t you?” Vogel assured him, gently caressing Albus’s chin and, feeling the stubble prickle his fingers, asked, “Haven’t you been shaving?”

“Oh? I was thinking of letting it grow,” Albus commented softly. “You don’t know how hard it is to shave without the help of magic.”

“But why didn’t you ask me for help?” Anton asked, already pulling out his wand. “One simple touch and I...”

Albus raised a gentle hand for him to stop.

“Don’t bother, Anton,” he said, although the idea that Anton might not approve of his intended change in appearance gave him an uneasy feeling in his chest.

“All right then,” Vogel said with a shrug. “I didn’t mean to be intrusive.”

“It’s all right,” Albus replied quickly, wanting to forget the discomfort that this simple conversation had caused him, and added an invitation: “Tea?”

“Yes, of course,” Vogel agreed. And the satisfied smile he offered made Albus feel a little better.

“What if I tried to serve you without a wand?” Albus asked, suddenly excited. “I’ve heard that there are wizards in Africa and South America who can perform magic with gestures. If I tried, surely...”

“No, please, Albus,” Vogel interrupted him. “We don’t want to trigger the alert for unauthorised use of magic just to make a teapot float towards a cup, do we?” he asked, looking tired. “Besides, the British Ministry of Magic might consider such an act a challenge and make it even more difficult to return your wand.”

Albus opened his mouth to argue, but Henrietta was quicker than he was and waved her wand herself to serve the tea. Resigned, Albus once again gave up on insisting and decided to change the subject.

“Were you able to identify the man from my memory?” he asked the moment his tea was served.

Vogel looked up from his cup.

“What man?”

“The man I saw,” Albus explained as he stirred the sugar cube that Henrietta had already added to his tea, knowing that he liked it. Seeing that Vogel still didn't understand, he insisted, “The one who tried to attack us.”

Vogel's shoulders stiffened with discomfort.

“I didn't want to worry you with such an unpleasant subject,” he said in a confessional tone.

“I usually handle concerns well,” Albus assured him, bringing his cup to his mouth for a few seconds. “But I don't like being alienated from matters that concern me.”

Vogel seemed to notice the very serious look Albus gave him.

“Very well,” he conceded with a sigh. “I was told that your memory was quite clear, so it was possible to retrieve a very accurate image of the criminal.”

“His eyes were what caught my attention the most,” Albus commented, staring into space as if he were standing in front of that man. “There was something wrong with them.”

“Everything indicates that he is blind in one eye or something like that,” Vogel commented somberly. “Maybe that's why he missed his target and I managed to escape with my life?”

“Have you managed to identify him yet?” Albus asked, full of expectation.

“Not yet,” Vogel said with unconcealed contempt. “But it's only a matter of time.”

With the tea temporarily forgotten on the coffee table, a few seconds of silence followed as Albus connected the mismatched pieces of that huge puzzle.

“Don't you think he might have something to do with my parents' death and my sister's disappearance?” Albus finally asked. “Madame Bathilda said she saw a woman, but... I don't know... my intuition tells me that there might be someone else besides her.”

“I confess I hadn't thought of that possibility...” Vogel replied, fingering the handle of the cup.

“Perhaps it would be best to allow the investigators of each case to exchange information,” Albus suggested calmly.

Vogel nodded, seeming to ponder Albus's suggestion.

“It's not a bad idea,” he concluded. “I'll take care of it tomorrow. Who knows, maybe we'll discover something new?”

“I sincerely hope so,” Albus commented. “Any clue is important, especially now that the investigation into my sister's whereabouts seems to have come up against a brick wall.”

“Don't worry, Albus,” Vogel assured him confidently. “As far as I'm concerned, we'll soon find the right spell to break down any wall that separates us from the truth.”

Albus gave a slightly sad smile before finishing the rest of his tea.

Another full moon came, and with it, another heat.

Vogel, always so kind, was once again there to try to ease the anguish Albus felt during that period. And, as on the other occasion, the alpha was too delicate, with his languid kisses and sweet compliments. Dedicated, he didn't make him wait when Albus begged him to end his anguish once and for all. Panting, moving slowly, far too slowly, Vogel leaned over and licked Albus's neck a few times, as a silent suggestion, an invitation that the omega was unable to accept.

But it was very clear that Vogel wanted Albus to submit to him, to offer his neck at once and let himself be marked. To choose him as his mate, his male, his alpha.

But Vogel was definitely not Albus's male.

Vogel didn't let that get him down. He didn't even alter the steady rhythm of his hips. Albus gasped and hugged him as if apologizing, breathing in the scent of that alpha. It wasn't bad at all; Vogel had a very masculine and pleasant scent, but still... it wasn't the right one. The scent he wanted!

Without stopping his thrusts, Vogel took hold of his cock and stimulated it, waiting patiently for Albus to come; but even though he was in full heat and wanted nothing more than to feel an alpha inside him, Albus always took a while to finally reach climax, as if a part of him, a part he didn't even understand himself, didn't really want to be there.

“Please... faster!” Albus begged at one point. “Harder!”

Vogel reluctantly picked up the pace, clearly not liking being given orders, and Albus felt so uncomfortable that he preferred to close his eyes to escape his husband's disapproving gaze. But, to his own surprise, the moment everything went dark, an image formed in Albus's mind, which he was unable to prevent: a blond man with an unspeakable coldness in his eyes.

Albus came, his eyes still tightly closed, clutching the sheets, clinging to that brief memory as if he were seeing it at that very moment through a Pensieve.

The mysterious alpha who had tried to kill his husband.

When all the pleasure was over, a wave of guilt took over Albus's mind in such a way that when Vogel finally came inside him, twitching every muscle in his face in a very ugly way, the omega tried to pull away out of pure reflex, only to find himself painfully trapped by the knot formed between the two bodies.

“Don't move!” Vogel growled, using his alpha voice, and Albus stopped trying to escape, whimpering in pure discomfort, until the knot finally came undone. Vogel then withdrew from Albus, still growling in his ear, and for a few seconds, the two wolves just panted together.

“I shouldn't have used my alpha voice with you...” Vogel was the first to speak after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. “Forgive me.”

“I... shouldn't have tried to pull away,” Albus murmured weakly in response.

If the alpha voice was normally painful and difficult to disobey, everything became even worse when it was used during heat, even more so during sex. When used that way, there was no way to refuse to obey. It was the ultimate submission.

Albus hugged his own body and closed his eyes, shrinking a little more when he felt Vogel wrap his arms around him. And as much as he was still trembling with fear, something prevented him from even trying to move from there.

Shortly after his third heat, Albus began having strange nightmares.

One day, he dreamed of a very pleasant voice telling him repeatedly to bow down before his alpha, to submit.

“But I haven't found my alpha yet,” Albus managed to argue, albeit with some effort.

“You already have an alpha,” the voice insisted, soft and melodic. “The same alpha you bonded with through the ties of marriage. Your alpha, Albus, you must bow down before your alpha!”

Albus felt an overwhelming urge to simply agree with that sweet voice, to let himself be enveloped, to obey its commands.

But something deep in his soul still resisted.

“I... I can't!” Albus whimpered in his dreams. “I can't!”

He woke up, drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, clutching the bed sheets tightly.

“Are you all right?” Vogel asked, concerned, as he watched him stab his scrambled eggs with his fork, never bringing them to his mouth.

“I'm fine...” Albus replied, absently. “I just haven't been... sleeping very well lately.”

“Maybe I can get you a good potion to help you sleep a little better,” Vogel suggested, as always solicitous.

“Maybe...” Albus agreed, looking distracted.

Vogel smiled at him and continued drinking his coffee. Albus thought about asking about his wand, but a wave of dizziness overcame him at that very moment and he brought his hand to his eyes, feeling everything spin around him.

“Are you sure you're all right?” Vogel asked, with renewed concern.

Albus rubbed his eyes. His vision seemed a little blurry, as if there were a strange fog. Other than that, he felt terribly unwell, as if something inside him were out of place.

“I'm... I'm sure,” he confirmed, reaching out with a trembling hand toward his cup. “What were we talking about again?”

Vogel looked at Albus without saying anything for a few seconds before finally replying:

“I was suggesting that you ask Henrietta to help you shave from now on.”

Albus opened his mouth, confused, not knowing what to say for a few seconds, as if his brain were empty.

“Oh, yes... fine,” he agreed, before managing to bring his cup to his mouth.

Albus soon discovered that it was not possible to send more than one letter per week.

Even though it was quite resilient, his new owl took five whole days to get there and back, and arrived so exhausted that Albus was forced to wait until it recovered, which usually required two or three days of rest and extra food before it was ready to carry another letter.

Albus then began to set priorities. Before his marriage, he had corresponded with dozens of people from various countries. At Hogwarts, it was not uncommon to borrow his friends' owls. After the wedding, however, things changed a bit, and many of his correspondents stopped replying to his letters. At first, Albus even thought that the reason for the exodus was the fact that he was an omega, but when even letters from his closest friends stopped arriving, Albus began to suspect that the Confederation's courier service was not exactly the best. But being so far from home and having only one owl at his disposal, Albus could only send letters to his brother and a few close friends, such as Bathilda Bagshot and Elphias Doge.

“Madame Bathilda hasn't replied to any of my letters in a while...” Albus blurted out to Vogel, discouraged. “I've sent my owl to her twice and nothing...”

“I told you that the problem wasn't the Confederation's courier service,” Vogel was quick to comment, while fingering a nearby book, seeming bothered by the subject.

“Well, now I'm really worried, Anton,” Albus confessed. “Madame Bathilda has never let a single letter be delayed since we started corresponding regularly. Even when I was on vacation and visited her every day, she never failed to write to me.”

“Your friend, it seems, has a lot of free time, doesn't she?” Vogel couldn't help but comment, then quickly added, “Sorry, that was rude.”

“No problem, Madame Bathilda is indeed a very lonely old lady,” Albus acknowledged. “She has been retired for quite some time, and her only living relative is a grandnephew with whom she also exchanges letters from time to time.”

Vogel let out a tired sigh before asking.

“I understand that you want me to make sure your friend is okay, am I right?”

“I would be very relieved if I could hear from her,” Albus replied. “And also from my brother.”

Vogel took Albus's hand and kissed it with extreme delicacy.

“I've already told you that I'll do anything to make you happy,” he said gallantly. “Don't worry. I'll take care of it.”

Albus felt his vision blur slightly when Vogel's lips touched the back of his hand.

“Thank you, Anton,” he said when the strange sensation finally passed.

A few weeks after that conversation, Vogel returned from work with such a serious expression that Albus immediately understood that something was wrong.

“What happened? Has something happened to my siblings?” he asked tensely.

Vogel tapped the table as if it were a piano before answering.

“Your brother is fine, don't worry,” he assured him in a reassuring tone. “Maybe not with the best grades in the world and with a slightly higher number of detentions than would be acceptable, but... definitely alive and well. As for your sister, unfortunately, I have no news.”

“Then why do you look so serious?” Albus wanted to know.

Vogel pressed his lips together for a few seconds, then pulled Albus by the hands to the sofa before he began to speak.

“I've received disturbing news about your friend, Bathilda...” And after a sad pause, he continued in a slightly darker tone. “I'm so sorry...”

Albus opened his mouth, genuinely shocked, as he understood what Vogel was trying to tell him. A single tear ran down his face, and he wiped it away with the back of his right hand.

“But... she seemed perfectly healthy not so long ago!” Albus commented, stunned, still wiping his own tears. Vogel squeezed his left hand in a gesture of silent support. “Sure, she was a little old, but...”

Vogel shook his head.

“Your friend did not die of natural causes,” he explained. “I'm very sorry to say this, but she was murdered.”

All of Albus's muscles seemed to stiffen at once when he heard those words.

“Murdered?”

Vogel squeezed Albus's hand a little harder.

“It seems she was found in the house where she lived, already in an advanced state of decomposition. It took a while to find her because she lived alone and had no close relatives. I mean, no one except a...”

“A grandnephew,” Albus finished. “She mentioned that he had plans to spend some time at her house. I told you about him, didn't I?” He shook his head in disbelief. “And to think that Madame Bathilda even wanted to introduce me to him...”

Vogel nodded briefly as he reached for a leather briefcase and took out a file.

“Yes, yes...” he picked up his reading glasses and put them on with one hand to read the information. “Gellert Grindelwald. It seems that from a very young age, he was already a bit of a misfit. He managed the incredible feat of being expelled from Durmstrang for practising illicit dark magic,” Vogel laughed mockingly. "I myself studied at Durmstrang, and I can assure you that things there are very different from Hogwarts in some respects. Every year, someone in the wizarding world questions whether they are a little too lenient of the practice of dark magic. If this young man went so far as to be expelled...” Vogel shook his head in pure regret. “Your poor friend probably had no idea she was harbouring a snake.”

Albus's eyes fixed on Vogel as he heard him say this.

“Don't tell me...”

“Yes, Albus, he is the prime suspect, and everything leads us to believe that it was indeed his nephew who killed your friend,” Vogel replied grimly. “He is currently a wanted man.”

Albus gently removed his hand from Vogel's and got up from the sofa, walking around the room, deep in thought.

“That doesn't make any sense...” he commented. “Why would he do something like that to his own aunt, for nothing?”

Vogel shrugged.

“Maybe he did it for money?” he ventured. “After all, he was her only relative...”

Albus walked slowly around the sofa, his fingertips touching.

“No...” he concluded. “Madame Bathilda didn't have many possessions. She was a brilliant historian, it's true, but her greatest treasure was her knowledge...” And at this point, Albus stopped, shocked by his own conclusions. “Merlin's beard!”

“What's wrong?” Vogel asked.

“Do you have a photo of him?”

Vogel opened the file he was holding and placed it on the coffee table, right in front of where Albus was standing. The moment the omega's eyes locked onto the photo of the handsome golden-haired boy, a cold sensation took hold of his stomach.

“It's him!” Albus pointed at the photo, stunned. “The boy who attacked us at the market.”

“Are you sure?” Vogel asked, incredulous. “Good Merlin... what a risk you took!”

Albus sat back down on the sofa and, after another thoughtful glance at the folder, pulled it toward him and removed the photo from the file to look at it more closely. Yes... he would never forget that face! The man who had attacked them at the market and Madame Bathilda's nephew were definitely the same person: Gellert Grindelwald!

Still reeling from that discovery, Albus soon noticed that there was something different about that photo. The Grindelwald he had seen at the market in Berlin was blind in one eye, unlike the young man in the photo, who had both eyes perfectly healthy, the same shade of light blue.

“Anton, maybe this man really does have something to do with my sister's kidnapping!” Albus commented, putting the photo aside and pacing around the room again. “If only I had my wand... I know I could...”

“Go after him?” Vogel guessed the rest of the sentence. “That's all he wants, Albus!”

“Yes, but...”

“Look, don't worry!” Vogel interrupted him gently. “I'll notify the Aurors about him. And I promise we'll intensify the search.”

Albus sighed deeply. First his parents, then Ariana, and now...

“Poor lady...” Albus lamented. “How could he?”

“This man won't be able to hurt you, Albus!” Vogel assured him. “I promise I won't let anyone get close to you! No one!”

Not long ago, Albus would have been a little annoyed by such overprotective talk, but now... now he simply couldn't get angry anymore.

Albus woke up in a lot of pain shortly after the next heat.  

He found Vogel lying next to him in bed, fast asleep, and only because of that did he not groan loudly as he tried, with great effort, to sit up on the mattress.  

Confused and unable to remember anything that had happened the night before, Albus checked his arms, and although they throbbed with pain, he found no marks on them, not even a scratch. His fingers touched his neck, and there he found nothing either.  

His head hurt like never before.  

He looked around, and it even seemed as if the room was covered in a very thin fog, as if something were obstructing his vision, dulling his ability to think.  

So tired and sore, he had no choice but to close his eyes and, feeling dizzy, collapse onto his pillows again.  

Maybe it was all just a nightmare, he thought.

During the first weeks of marriage, Albus was constantly insisting on going out. At first, he wanted to accompany Vogel to the Confederation Headquarters, to talk in person with those in charge of investigating his parents' murder and Ariana's disappearance.  

Soon after the attack, however, after Vogel protected the house where they were staying with the Fidelius Charm, it became increasingly difficult to leave.  

“You are completely safe here, Albus,” Vogel explained. “No matter how hard he tries, Grindelwald will never be able to get his hands on you.”  

“But I can't be stuck in this place for the rest of my life!” Albus still tried to argue when he could no longer stand being at home.  

“Just until the British Ministry of Magic returns your wand,” Vogel promised him. “Until that happens, you can only leave when necessary and always in my company.”  

During the first few months, Albus tried to argue and insist. But insisting with Vogel became increasingly difficult, until, little by little, he gave up trying altogether.  

The end of the year approached, and Albus sent a letter to Aberforth, asking if he would spend the holidays with him. And, once again, there was only silence, so he asked Vogel to intercede. Perhaps Aberforth would be moved if his husband took the initiative to write?  

But the days passed and Vogel received no response from Aberforth either. Neither positive nor negative.  

“I don't understand! Why doesn't he answer?” Albus asked. “I know... he may be hurt, but... why does he insist on this... silence?”  

Alpha and Omega were sitting at the table, having lunch. Vogel put his cutlery down on his plate and tapped his wine glass, a gesture very characteristic of him, which Albus knew he always did when he was thoughtful or even indecisive.  

“Do you have something to tell me, Anton?” he asked.  

“Well, yes...” Vogel replied, then took a long sip of wine before continuing, “I need to tell you that I took the liberty of writing a letter to the Headmaster of Hogwarts.”  

“To the Headmaster?” Albus asked, full of expectation. “And what did you say to him?”  

“I briefly explained our problem and also all our concerns about your brother,” and he kindly replied, informing me that Aberforth's name is on the list of students who have chosen to spend Christmas at Hogwarts.  

A wave of indescribable sadness washed over Albus at that moment.  

“What if I went there?” he asked. “Maybe if I tried to talk to him in person...”  

“I don't think that would make much difference,” Vogel said. “Your brother is just hurt, Albus... I've already told you that perhaps the best thing to do is to give it time. Wait for the hurt to pass.”  

Albus closed his eyes, trying to ignore a growing feeling of discomfort.  

“Wouldn't you like me to go?” Albus asked hesitantly.  

Vogel tilted his neck, and his index finger traced the rim of the glass for a few seconds.  

“Frankly, I think you would be putting yourself at risk by making this trip,” he said gently. “Aberforth is fine and safe at Hogwarts, but at least until this... Grindelwald... is arrested, I am very concerned about what might happen to you.”  

That answer did not please Albus at all, and he tried to rebel against it, attempting to convince his husband that it was necessary to act and not simply wait. But the moment he opened his mouth to argue, the words seemed to jumble in his head in such a way that he simply lost the ability to speak.  

“But, Anton... you... you...” Albus blinked a few times, trying unsuccessfully to put his thoughts back in order. “You don't...”  

Vogel frowned, showing surprise at such hesitation.  

“I don't...?” Vogel encouraged him to continue.  

Albus shook his head vigorously, as if trying to stay awake or sober, but the more he tried to speak, the harder it was to think straight.  

“Albus, are you okay?” Vogel asked, his tone clearly concerned, and the omega just shook his head again, closing his eyes as he felt the whole room spinning before his eyes.  

“I think... I think I need to lie down,” Albus said weakly. “Just for a little while.”  

Vogel jumped out of his chair instantly and strode across the room, ready to support Albus when he tried to get up.  

“Come on, I'll help you,” the alpha offered, holding Albus firmly. “You haven't been sleeping very well lately, and you're still recovering from a very difficult heat. A little rest is all you need to feel better.”  

“You're absolutely right, Anton,” Albus acknowledged. “Thank you.”  

Vogel smiled at him and, with a gentle gesture, slipped one of his arms under Albus's legs to lift him off the floor and carry him in his arms to his room. And so, nestled and comfortable, Albus let himself be carried away gently, already beginning to feel better now that he was under the loving protection of his alpha.

Vogel was wrong.

The holidays came and went, and Albus didn't feel any better. Quite the contrary. Everything got even worse with the arrival of the full moon, as an even more debilitating heat followed, worse than the previous one. This time, although Albus felt no pain, he was still unable to remember anything that had happened during the heat. His only certainty was that Vogel, as always, had devoted himself entirely to his care.

But something seemed very wrong, as Albus barely had the strength to get out of bed, and to make matters worse, a high fever struck him, reducing him to a semi-delirious state in which it was almost impossible to distinguish dreams from reality. Dazed, days and nights passed without him realizing it. Weak, he swallowed the spoonfuls of hot soup, that were forced into his mouth, with difficulty, and his sweat-soaked clothes had to be changed frequently. Vogel stayed by his side the whole time, vigilant like a devoted alpha, making Albus drink healing potions that seemed to have no effect.

Throughout his illness, Albus just let himself be, too weak to say or do anything, unable to sleep or stay alert for long. The fever was gone, but his strength had not returned. It was as if his spirit was no longer able to control his own body.

“The doctor said you've been experiencing more intense heat cycles than usual lately,” Vogel told him when Albus was finally able to string his own thoughts together with minimal coherence. “Maybe it's because... well... because you haven't been marked yet.”

Albus frowned. He didn't even remember being examined by a doctor, only lying there, staring at the ceiling, day after day, watching the sunlight reflected from the window move across the room until it dimmed and disappeared, leaving the room completely dark. At that moment, an agonizing silence filled the room, only to be relieved hours later by the first rays of sunlight and the singing of birds.

“I... I don't know what's happening to me,” Albus whispered. “I can't... I can't think...”

“You're still very weak,” Vogel explained gently. “But if you make the right choice...”

Albus shook his head weakly, and Vogel took his hand and squeezed it tightly.

“I can't... I can't...”

“Do you understand, Albus?” Vogel insisted. “When you get the mark, all of this will get better!”

But Albus could barely keep his eyes open, and producing whole sentences seemed to require a superhuman effort.

“I'm scared, Anton,” he finally confessed, feeling more fragile than ever. “So... so scared!”

“There's no reason to be scared,” Vogel assured him with infinite patience. “I'm here with you. I'm your alpha, and I'll protect you!”

“Something's wrong...” Albus said weakly in response. “Something's very wrong with me...”

“Listen, you're tired,” Vogel said. “Albus, you're just an omega, after all. And there's been so many distressing events! First your friend Bathilda, and now everything we've discovered about your poor sister...”

“About... my sister?” Albus asked. “What happened to my sister?”

“You don't remember?” Vogel asked, stunned.

“Remember what?” Albus wanted to know, feeling his stomach turn to ice.

“I shouldn't have brought this up,” Vogel immediately reprimanded himself. “The last heat was very difficult, and you...”

But Albus's hand firmly grasped Vogel's wrist.

“Remember what?” he insisted.

Vogel seemed to hesitate, unsure whether to proceed with the subject, but as Albus's eyes demanded an answer, he finally gave in.

“It's been a few days already, Albus… it's amazing you don't remember! The investigators came here personally to tell us that they found...” He paused. “That they found your sister...” Vogel stopped again, pained, and a tear rolled down his cheek. “I'm so sorry!”

“It's not true! It can't be true!” Albus sobbed, unable to hold back his own tears. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember the moment he found out about any of it; it was as if it had been erased from his mind!

“As explained, they found her body in a village near Godric's Hollow,” Vogel continued sorrowfully. “It's still too early to be sure, but I would bet many galleons that the murderer is the same man who killed your friend and tried to attack us at the market. Gellert Grindelwald.”

Grindelwald! The man with very cold eyes, who seemed committed body and soul to destroying everything he loved most. The golden-haired monster who pursued him, largely responsible for his being imprisoned in that place for so many months. Perhaps Grindelwald even had influence in the Ministry? Perhaps it was because of him that his wand was not returned, even after insistent requests from his alpha?

His beloved alpha, always so devoted to him, always taking care of him and doing everything to make him happy!

“I want to go there! I need to see the body, speak to the investigators... I need to tell my brother what happened!” Albus finally spoke, forcing himself to sit up in bed, determined, then looking at Vogel for a few seconds and asking, “Why... why didn't you take me there?”

Vogel said something, but Albus couldn't hear it; a terrible dizziness made the whole room spin and he put his hand to his head, afraid of fainting.

“Albus? Albus?!” Vogel asked, gently pushing him back onto the bed. “You're still recovering, you must rest!”

“No! I don't need to rest... I need... I need...” And the words disappeared from his mind before he could say them; tears slid down his cheeks one after another. “It was my fault, don't you understand? My fault!”

“None of this is your fault!” Vogel assured him, placing his palm on his chest to keep him lying in bed.

“My parents, my sister...” Albus continued, ignoring the alpha. “My brother hates me! Of course! How could he not?”

“Your brother doesn't hate you!” Vogel insisted. “And, in due time, he'll understand...”

But Albus was no longer listening. Heartbroken, too weak to do anything else, he brought his hands to his face in deep despair.

“I'm alone,” he whimpered. “Completely alone!”

“That's not true!” Vogel protested immediately. “You're not alone! You have me! I'm your alpha! You just need to... bow down. Submit. Nothing more, Albus, nothing more!”

But Albus didn't want to hear any of it. Feeling broken and vulnerable as never before, he curled up on the bed, his teeth chattering from the cold, unable to think of anything but all the misery he had brought upon those he loved most.

Chapter Text

Thirteen years later...

It was difficult to keep track of time in that dark room, where no light or noise could reach. For this reason, Albus always woke up a little confused, not quite sure whether it was still night or whether dawn had already broken.

Time passed in a very strange way now. Sometimes very slowly, sometimes too quickly.

That day, Albus rose slowly from his bed and took a few stumbling steps toward the window. For several long minutes, he stood there, staring intently at the heavy red curtains, until he dared to reach out and touch them.

But instead of the pleasant texture of the velvet curtains, he felt a sharp pain, followed by a burning sensation.

Henrietta Fischer rushed into the room a few seconds later, frowning when she found Albus standing next to the curtains, staring at his bleeding fingers, yet showing neither pain nor expression, not even discomfort.

“I just want to pull back the curtains,” Albus said very quietly, before Henrietta could ask anything. “To see the sunlight...”

The secretary shook her head, annoyed.

“Did you forget about the barrier again?” Henrietta asked, pulling Albus's hand toward her with a sharp movement.

“I don't like these curtains,” Albus stated, without bothering to answer the question.

Henrietta couldn't care less.

“If that's your problem, I assure you that Herr Vogel would gladly replace them with others more to your liking,” she suggested in a tone of pure indifference.

And since Albus made no further comment, Henrietta quickly cast a healing spell to regenerate the burned skin on his fingers. Immediately afterwards, with a rather rough gesture, she touched the tip of the omega's chin and cast a spell to make all the hairs in his beard disappear. Finally, she guided Albus by the shoulders, making him sit on the bed, and began brushing his long red hair.

“If my poor parents were still alive and could see what all their investment in my education had led me to, I think they would die again of pure grief...” the beta muttered softly, without interrupting her work.

Albus made no comment, remaining perfectly still, showing no discomfort with the harshness with which Henrietta combed his hair. And such passivity encouraged the witch to continue venting:

“Five languages, four specializations, decades of faithful dedication. All that to end up being traded for some American alpha... there's no worse fate than being a beta.” And finding Albus's hair shiny enough, she put the brush aside and only then asked, “Would you like to have breakfast here in your room, or would you prefer to be served in the living room?”

“It's safer to stay in my room,” Albus said, as if reciting a memorized text.

“All right, all right...” Henrietta muttered wearily, even more irritated at having to ask the same question every day, even though she knew what the answer would be.

And speaking of questions that were asked every day...

“Is Anton here?” Albus asked.

“No, he's not. He had to leave a little earlier than usual,” Henrietta replied, already walking toward the wardrobe. “The election is near, and it seems the problems keep piling up. Of course, I would know how to solve all the issues in the blink of an eye if Herr Vogel had delegated this task to me, but apparently, he really prefers me to serve as his luxury nanny...”

Once again, Albus paid no attention to her. It was as if Henrietta were talking to the walls.

As usual.

“Your robes,” she said dryly, removing emerald green wizard robes from the wardrobe with another wave of her wand.

Without showing the slightest embarrassment, Albus undressed completely and, with Henrietta’s begrudging assistance, was soon fully dressed. Breakfast was served in the room minutes later, a lavish table laid with all his favourite foods. Without showing any joy, the omega sat down, once again speaking as if he were giving advice to himself.

“It's good to eat well and stay healthy.”

Henrietta just watched as Albus put the first thing his fingers could find into his mouth, a pre-cut piece of cake, and wondered, perhaps for the thousandth time, why this human doll still needed so much attention. Albus had been repeating the same things for a long time, in exactly the same way, as if he had been programmed beforehand. It was as if he lived the same day over and over again, from breakfast to bedtime.

But today would not be like all the other days.

“Herr Vogel asked me to let you know that you will have a guest today,” Henrietta said as she filled Albus's cup with hot chocolate. “I imagine it must be someone very important for him to risk revealing the secret location of this house to someone...”

Albus looked up at her, seeming a little lost with the news. It had been too long since he had seen any faces other than Anton’s and Henrietta’s.

“What should I do?” he asked.

“Naturally, Herr Vogel wants you to join him for dinner.”

“Then I will,” Albus concluded.

The morning and afternoon passed like any other. Albus remained silent in his room, sitting in his usual armchair, staring at nothing. In the late afternoon, Henrietta returned to prepare his bath and help him prepare to receive his husband and the guest.

Albus had long since stopped choosing his own clothes, and that did not change even on this special occasion. Vogel's secretary was already used to taking care of absolutely everything, and on that day, she chose white robes embroidered with tiny pearls. Vogel had left clear orders for his omega to look perfect that night, and as humiliating as Henrietta found her new role, she couldn't afford to do a poor job.

An elaborate braid, and Albus was finally ready to be displayed like a trophy by his alpha.

“Your neck needs to be very well covered,” Henrietta explained when she saw Albus reach for the high collar of his robes, clearly uncomfortable with the unpleasant feeling of being almost strangled by his own clothes. “I still don't know who the guest is, but whoever they are, there would certainly be comments if they found out that, even though you've been married for so many years, you still haven't been marked.”

There was a veiled judgment in those words, as if Henrietta were criticizing him for not yet bowing to his alpha, but even so, Albus showed no reaction, and just kept his eyes fixed on his reflection in the dressing table mirror. Henrietta checked the omega's appearance once more, looking for any possible adjustments, but apparently everything was perfect.

And, as if Vogel and Henrietta's clocks were perfectly synchronized, the front door slammed downstairs, followed by her employer’s noisy entrance and a duet of loud laughter.

“Looks like Herr Vogel’s just arrived,” Henrietta observed hurriedly as she helped Albus up from his chair. “We'd better go downstairs, you know how much he hates any kind of delay. And be sure to behave yourself because... oh, what am I saying? Of course you'll behave yourself, won't you?”

“I'm a good omega,” Albus confirmed mechanically, causing Henrietta to shrug and open the bedroom door so that he could pass.

Unhurriedly, Albus crossed the long hallway and descended the carpeted staircase so softly that the two alphas chatting near the fireplace downstairs didn't even notice his approach. Vogel seemed very busy, reading a parchment while another wizard, standing next to him, who was much taller, with brown eyes and carefully combed-back hair, pointed out a passage for his review.

Henrietta appeared right behind Albus and, realizing that the special guest was none other than the American alpha she had been complaining about tirelessly lately, she was unable to suppress a sound of pure disdain, which drew the attention of the two wizards to the newcomers.

“Ah, Albus!” Vogel exclaimed, momentarily distracted by the beauty of his omega. “You look... absolutely stunning! Come here! I want to introduce you.”

The effusive compliment seemed to go unnoticed as Albus finished descending the stairs, yet the omega was gently supported by Vogel as he reached the last step.

“My omega,” Vogel introduced him to the guest, unable to hide a hint of pride.

The other wizard merely nodded toward Albus for a few seconds, not bothering with introductions or greetings. Vogel didn't seem surprised by the lack of friendliness; on the contrary, everyone knew he didn't appreciate alphas showering praise on other people's omegas.

“Dinner is served, sir,” Henrietta announced immediately afterward, courteously but not exactly warmly.

“Thank you, Henrietta,” Vogel replied, and after taking Albus by the arm, he gestured to the guest, indicating the dining room. “I confess that overwork has exhausted me to the point of completely losing my appetite, but... let's go.”

“Quite understandable, sir,” the other man replied, already heading in the direction indicated. “If you prefer, we can discuss the details of the election tomorrow morning...”

“We have no time to waste,” Vogel replied before casting an approving glance at the impeccably set table. “Excellent work, Henrietta, as usual.”

Fischer looked as if she would not have taken such care with the preparations had she known in advance the identity of the guest.

“May I serve dinner?” she asked, trying hard to hide her reluctance.

“Not at all. Today we will follow tradition,” Vogel replied in a serious tone, and, turning to the other man, explained: “I don't know how you do it in the United States, but here in Germany, the omegas of the house serve at the table when we have guests.”

“Unfortunately, we don't have this custom,” the American lamented. “And I've never had the opportunity to dine at anyone's house since I came to work here in Berlin.”

“It will be Albus's first time too. We don't usually have guests,” Vogel replied as he took his seat at the head of the table, gesturing toward the chair opposite him, inviting him to sit.

Privately satisfied that she would not be forced to serve the detested American who had taken her position in the Confederation, Henrietta curtsied.

“I'll be retiring then,” she said, taking her leave. “Good night, everyone.”

None of the three responded to her greeting. Exhausted, Henrietta turned on her heels and disappeared into the back of the house.

“Well, where were we?” Vogel asked, and, noticing that his omega remained standing beside the table, he said with a courteous smile, “Darling? You may serve.”

The omega nodded and began serving the two alphas under Vogel's satisfied gaze. If the guest found it strange that Albus took his plate and filled it with the stew in an almost mechanical manner, he didn't show it.

“This is a typical recipe here in Germany,” Vogel explained, after inhaling the inviting aroma rising from his plate. “After almost two years here, you must have tried it, haven’t you?”

“I confess that lately I haven't had the time or inclination for anything but canned food,” the American replied, accepting a piece of bread Albus offered him.

“Oh, don't say that, because then I'll end up feeling guilty for always demanding so much from you,” Vogel commented with a laugh. “But what can I do if you're more efficient than all my advisors put together?”

“I'm flattered,” the man replied.

“You have certainly earned my trust,” Vogel assured him. “It is no coincidence that I chose you to be my successor in the upcoming elections.”

“I am committed to continuing your legacy,” the man assured him in a pleasant tone.

A sharp pop cut through the conversation as the cork flew from the bottle. Albus had taken a little longer than usual to open the wine without the aid of magic, but he soon leaned over to pour the drink into Vogel's goblet.

“No, my dear, you must serve the guest first!” Vogel ordered with a hint of impatience, and Albus bowed his head in apology before walking gracefully to the other side of the table. “My omega is British and, apparently, unaware of the correct way to serve a typical Germanic wizard’s table.”

“I'm not Germanic either,” the man replied curtly, his eyes lingering on Albus’s trembling hand as the omega struggled not to spill a single drop of wine.

“But you are in a German’s house,” Vogel stated sternly.

Albus managed to pour the wine without spilling it.

“Is it also part of Germanic etiquette to serve dinner without magic?” the wizard asked, noticing that Albus had not used his wand at any point to speed things up.

Vogel looked up from his glass, which was now almost full, before answering.

“As always, you are very observant,” he praised. “But no, in this regard we are like everyone else. The thing is, Albus doesn't have a wand.”

A flicker of surprise crossed the guest’s face, but he masked it almost immediately.

“Apparently, you really are a guardian of traditions,” the man observed. “Even the oldest ones.”

“I detect a certain tone of criticism in your words, my dear friend,” Vogel remarked, gesturing for Albus to refill his glass. “Surprised?”

“Not at all,” the man hastened to say. “It's true that in the United States, we haven't had this habit of taking away omegas' wands for several decades now, but I had heard that here in Europe, alphas still have the right to limit their omegas' use of magic if they want to.”

“I bet you consider all this to be just another barbarity of the Old World, don't you?” Vogel joked.

“We don't need to go that far,” the American laughed. “But I'd be lying if I said I didn't find it quite curious. Besides, I can assure you that in America, omegas would certainly throw gasoline on their alphas and set them on fire if they dared to leave them without their wands for a single day.”

Vogel laughed openly when he heard that.

“Maybe that’s why we make sure to keep gasoline well away from our omegas,” he commented.

“And that apparently includes wands, doesn’t it?”

“Certainly,” Vogel confirmed, before raising his glass for a toast. “To traditions!”

“To traditions!” the man repeated, raising his glass as well.

Dinner proceeded calmly, almost languidly, with Albus maintaining perfect silence while the alphas discussed pending matters about the election process.

“Perhaps you should return to New York for the next few days,” Vogel suggested as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I don't know... maybe give a few speeches... I know how good you are at that.”

“I had already been considering that,” the other replied, but before he could finish, an owl flew in through the window, circled the room once, and dropped its letter right in front of Vogel’s plate.

Unable to hide a grimace of disgust, the Mugwump reached for the letter, initially intending to set it aside. But after checking that the envelope had been stamped for urgent matters, he changed his mind.

“Let's see what kind of emergency caused them to send me an owl at this time of night,” Vogel muttered as he broke the seal. “Last time, they saw fit to bother me just to warn me that a nest of three-headed blue lizards was clogging part of the sewer system...”

Vogel removed the letter from the envelope, and as he read it, his smile gradually faded until it turned into a grimace of pure annoyance. The silence that had settled over the room was abruptly broken by Vogel slamming his fist on the table.

The spoon Albus was using to eat slipped from his hand, and both he and the American guest looked up at Vogel as he began to rant.

“Incompetents! Imbeciles! All of them!” Vogel cursed in German, growing more and more indignant with each line of the long report he had just received. “This... this is unbelievable!”

“Did something happen?” the American wizard asked.

“They’ve stolen the Elder Wand!” Vogel cried, his voice choking with rage. But before he could continue, his flashing eyes fell on the omega beside him. “To your room! Now!”

Albus didn't need a second warning. He got up immediately and, after a brief nod, left the room. Only after seeing him go upstairs did Vogel decide to speak.

“We’ve lost the most important of the three sacred objects!”

The American wiped his mouth with a napkin before commenting, “I thought they were kept under extreme surveillance...”

“I thought so too, but apparently the extreme surveillance was somewhat blind and totally incompetent!” Vogel growled. "According to what's written here, the night guard, a certain Gregorovitch, was sleeping so soundly at the time of the break-in that even the memory they extracted from him was useless because it was so blurred. The fool barely saw the spell before a thief stunned him and took his wand!"

“Are you trying to tell me that a single wizard was able to break into the temple and steal the most powerful wand in the world?” the other asked, astonished.

“Yes, incredible as it may seem, that is precisely what I am trying to tell you!” Vogel confirmed, his face beginning to turn very red. “And they were so incompetent that they only discovered the theft the next day, when the shift changed!”

“This is very serious!” he concluded. “A severe security breach indeed! What will people say when the news spreads?”

“It would be catastrophic if this theft made the news before the elections. It would greatly damage your candidacy. No... I think the best thing to do, at least for now, is to hide all this.”

“The wand is undoubtedly a regrettable loss, but it would only be of any importance if Qilin were still alive and present at the ceremony to bow before some alpha. Only then would the wand's absence be truly felt.”

“We both know that poor Qilin was kidnapped and died as a baby,” Vogel soon commented in a tone so low that it was as if he were afraid the walls had ears. “And that the person responsible for this abomination was the wanted criminal Gellert Grindelwald.”

An uncomfortable silence followed before the other suggested.

“What if, by chance, he also stole the Elder wand?”

“The true power of the wand only emerges in the hands of the supreme alpha.”

“No one knows who the supreme alpha is...” the man insisted.

Vogel rose from his chair as if he had been bitten by a snake.

“Please, don't talk nonsense. If there is no Qilin, there is no supreme alpha either.”

“In that case, we have no reason to worry, do we? If the Qilin is dead, then the wand is just a stick like any other.”

“Even so, we're talking about a priceless treasure!” he lamented. “This couldn't have happened! Especially at a time like this! It's a real tragedy!”

“Calm down, sir! If it were really Grindelwald who stole the wand, we'll catch him sooner or later.”

“You know that's not how it works. That bastard always slips through our fingers like a slimy slug!” Vogel roared in response.

“Well, I'll take it upon myself to hunt him down from now on,” the American assured him, rising from his chair.

Vogel's eyes fixed on the other man for a few seconds before he asked.

“Would you do that, my dear Percival?”

The wizard's brown eyes gleamed in a rather predatory manner.

“That, and much more if necessary,” he assured him.

Albus didn't bother to take off his clothes. Henrietta usually helped him into his pajamas and put him to bed before retiring for the night, but with the sudden change in routine, that small detail had been forgotten.

With no one to give him orders, the omega lost track of time, standing there and staring at the closed curtains of the room as if he could see through them to the flower gardens outside, which he had not been allowed to see for a long, long time. The silence was so profound that when the bedroom door opened behind him without making a sound, Albus still turned around, expecting to see Vogel enter.

But instead of his husband, the man who entered the room was the same man to whom he had served dinner a couple of hours earlier. The moment their eyes met, the alpha quickened his pace, advancing rapidly toward the omega, his index finger pressed to his lips in a silent demand for silence.

And Albus was a good omega. When an alpha gave an order, he obeyed without question. And that was why he didn't move even when he saw the other wizard's dark hair begin to lighten and lengthen, forming beautiful golden curls to shoulder length. Percival Graves' brown eyes were the last to change, lightening until they became a pair of different-colored eyes, one blue, cunning and almost feral, and the other very white, blind and lifeless.

“Please...” Albus whispered softly when the other wizard got close enough.

He couldn't complete the sentence because Gellert Grindelwald's long fingers touched his lips, once again demanding silence, before sliding down his chin in a strange caress, until they reached his neck and opened the tiny buttons one by one of the high collar of his luxurious and exuberant robes. The pale skin of Albus's neck was finally exposed, and unable to resist, the alpha leaned in to inhale his scent, closing his eyes in delight before wrapping the omega in his arms.

Without saying a word, Albus allowed himself to remain in the alpha's embrace, tame and helpless like a little puppy, not even reacting when Gellert removed the knife from the inside pocket of his dark jacket.

“There...” Gellert whispered sweetly in the omega's ear as the cold blade cut his throat in one swift motion, staining his white clothes bright red with blood from the newly opened wound. “There...”

There was no satisfaction in Gellert's eyes as he did this, quite the contrary; even so, he showed not a moment's hesitation as he held Albus captive in his arms and, without ceasing to stroke his hair, the alpha waited patiently while the omega suffocated in his own blood.

Finally at peace after so, so long, Albus slowly closed his eyes, letting himself be carried away by a morbid darkness, supported by the arms of Gellert Grindelwald.

Chapter Text

From the moment he became an omega, Albus's world grew smaller. At first, it took the form of the tiny village of Godric's Hollow, then it shrank to Anton Vogel's house, then to his luxurious bedroom, and finally to himself. Until the day when everything turned into a vast, insurmountable darkness, as if Albus had simply ceased to exist.

After so much time lost, being reborn into the world would not be an easy task. 

Albus couldn't say how long his mind had struggled in a disturbing state of semi-consciousness. Without even the strength to open his eyes, he could barely exist, breathing with difficulty, shivering with cold and fear, more vulnerable than ever before. It was as if death itself were pulling him with its cold, damp fingers in an almost irresistible invitation. And Merlin knew full well that he no longer had any reason to cling to life. His parents and sister were dead, his brother hated him. He had no magic, he had nothing; he was utterly and irretrievably alone.

Despite all this, Albus remained alive.

During the disturbing moments when he struggled between life and death, his only relief was a very soft and repetitive melody: musical tones that seemed to want to embrace him and slowly bring him back to the light, back to life.

“Rennervate Vulnera Sanentur... Rennervate Vulnera Sanentur...” the sweet voice hummed incessantly in his ear.

It wasn’t the melody itself, but a very special presence that brought him back. Something inexplicable, almost wild, that connected directly with his lupine side.

Albus opened his eyes and found himself standing before the golden throne of the supreme alpha. A man with blond hair and very cold eyes sat there, crowned.

The king of the world!

The alpha's cloak covered his shoulders, the omega stone shone prominently in his crown, and in his right hand, he held the most powerful wand in the world, more magnificent than any staff.

Albus looked down, noticing his own sumptuous robes, embroidered with gold thread and adorned with all kinds of precious stones. The Qilin had bowed before his alpha. Outside, the whole world seemed to be celebrating; years of prosperity were sure to come. An almost palpable happiness infected everything and everyone. The alpha rose from his throne and, still smiling, slowly approached his omega. And when he felt his strong, protective arms wrap around his waist, Albus closed his eyes and let himself be embraced, offering his neck with a subtle gesture.

But instead of the redeeming bite, he felt a very sharp blade cut across his throat from one side to the other, opening a wound that exploded with blood.

Albus opened his eyes, frightened, desperately drawing air into his lungs as he looked around and found only darkness. In desperation, he brought his hand to his neck and, still gasping for air, tried to pull at the bandages wrapping it, smelling the metallic scent of blood. But even though there was no longer a wound there, it was as if he could feel the sharp blade cutting through his throat again and again.

“Don't move!” an unfamiliar voice commanded.

“Who...?” Albus coughed, feeling his throat burn, before summoning superhuman strength to go on. “Who is it?”

It took him a moment to make out the figure leaning against the wall opposite the bed where he was lying, but when the man stood up and approached slowly, Albus finally recognized him.

A face he knew very well.

Over the past few years, Albus had imagined countless times what he would do when he came face to face with the man responsible for the destruction of his family. And now he was finally there, within his reach. He stretched out his arm toward Gellert Grindelwald, wishing he had his wand more than ever, but his vision began to darken the moment he tried to lift his head off the pillow.

“I told you not to move,” Gellert warned. “You're still very weak.”

A long, uncomfortable silence followed.

“You killed me...” Albus accused weakly, his eyes screwed shut in pure terror as he gingerly touched his still-throbbing neck.

Gellert didn't so much as flinch at the accusation; on the contrary, he just shrugged, looking proud of himself.

“You were already dead before,” was his reply.

But Albus was not willing to fall so easily for that rhetoric.

“You killed my parents, my sister,” he continued coldly. “Even your own aunt...”

“Is that what he told you?” Gellert asked, unable to contain a laugh.

“Why are you laughing at something like that?” Albus asked indignantly.

“I'm sorry...” Gellert wiped a tear from the corner of one blue eye. “But it's the irony of it all that amuses me... I am guilty of so many crimes, and yet I am innocent of every one of your accusations.”

“Innocent...” Albus repeated, incredulous. Hazy memories came to his mind, and with some effort, he saw Grindelwald again, albeit in disguise, sharing the same table with Anton Vogel, toasting with him to old traditions. “You two were working together all this time!”

“That would explain a lot, wouldn't it?” Gellert asked, still smiling, not bothering to deny that accusation.

But Albus was not satisfied with his explanation and continued to stare at Gellert, never stopping to try and fit the pieces of his mental puzzle together.

“No... none of this makes sense... I saw you try to kill him at the market...” Albus concluded. “I saw your eyes. It was very real.”

Gellert's smile faded.

“Oh, yes, you can bet I wanted to kill that bastard!” Gellert confirmed, looking angry at himself. “But unfortunately, I missed my target. A mistake that cost me dearly.”

Albus frowned, intrigued by that statement. It was very clear that Gellert hated Vogel. But what could be the reason? Had Gellert kidnapped him in order to get to his great enemy?

He decided to extract as much information as possible from his captor.

“Where are we?” Albus asked, looking around.

“In a safe hideout,” Gellert replied cautiously. “The place is protected; Vogel won't be able to find you here.”

Vogel... thinking of him, a flood of mixed feelings took hold of Albus's heart. There was a lot of resentment, some contempt, and even fear, but not only that. Although it was hard to believe, inside him there was still a meek and obedient omega, subservient to his alpha.

“You'll still feel this way for a while,” Gellert warned, as if he could read his thoughts. “Too much time under the spell's effect.”

“What... are you talking about?” Albus asked, prompting an impatient expression from Gellert.

“Why do you think you submitted to someone like Vogel all these years?” he asked, unable to hide a tone of vivid contempt when pronouncing the name of the Mugwump.

“Because... because he's my alpha...” Albus replied, confused.

“He's not your alpha!” Gellert retorted, in an almost aggressive tone. “Don't ever say that again!”

“But I... I married him...” Albus insisted softly. Defending Vogel gave him an inexplicable sense of comfort.

Gellert shook his head in irritation. “That doesn't matter! You don't have any marks on your neck, so you don't belong to Vogel or anyone else!” Gellert said sharply.

“But I...”

“Come on!” Gellert interrupted, irritated by his stubbornness. “You need to make at least some effort to free yourself!”

Albus remained silent for a few seconds. Make an effort? Free myself? With some difficulty, he tried to organize his thoughts and put them in the right places.

He thought of Vogel. He certainly wasn’t the kind, caring alpha he had seemed. Anton had promised to return his magic, but so many years had passed and he hadn’t kept that promise. He also claimed to care about his safety, but that was a lie too. Power was all he really wanted! And, returning to Gellert’s question, how had he submitted for years, even though he knew Vogel wasn’t his alpha? Even though he was trapped in a golden cage, living a life he definitely didn’t want to be living?

There was only one possible answer.

“Anton cursed me...” Albus concluded in a faint voice, haunted by that terrible reality.

“Now you’re on the right track!” Gellert confirmed Albus’s suspicions.

Albus covered his face with both hands, remembering each heat, and how it had become increasingly difficult to contradict Vogel, until it all boiled down to receiving orders and carrying them out, in true mental slavery.

“But what kind of spell was that?” Albus asked, horrified.

“A little-known blood curse. I would even say it was exclusive to a few traditional Germanic families.”

“How so?”

Gellert took a deep breath. “You must imagine that not everyone likes the idea of letting omegas simply choose their alphas based on smell and instinct, right? Wealthy families want their children to unite with other wealthy families, preferably with many alphas and very few omegas and betas in their lineage. And for that, the alphas of these important families must mark the omegas they choose, not those imposed on them by nature.”

“Choose their omegas?” Albus asked, surprised. “That's not possible. Only omegas can choose their alphas by their pheromones.”

Gellert laughed sardonically. “For these people, nothing is impossible! They invested time, money, and a lot of effort to develop a curse capable of forcing an omega to present their throat to the wrong alpha. And you know, once the mark is finally made, there's no turning back.”

“So Anton really wanted to force me...” Albus concluded, feeling disgust rise in his throat.

“Or at least try, right?” Gellert said dismissively. “Needless to say, this kind of spell is strictly forbidden, but that would never stop someone like Vogel. He just didn't expect you to be able to resist it.”

Albus needed a few seconds to digest so much information.

“Is that why you cut my throat?” Albus asked.

Gellert took a deep breath. “To begin to weaken the curse, you must weaken the omega,” Gellert explained. “And removing as much tainted blood as possible is the easiest and fastest way to achieve that.”

Albus shook his head. It was hard to believe that Vogel, always so kind, had been capable of...

“How do you know all this?” Albus finally asked, still suspicious. “How do you know this spell? How did you know how to free me?”

Gellert shrugged. “I was once part of one of those... wealthy families,” he replied simply. “And that's why I know exactly how to recognise an omega under the effect of this curse.”

A few seconds of silence followed. At that moment, the fear of having merely exchanged one prison for another took hold of his spirit, and Albus felt his hands begin to tremble.

“Why are you doing all this?” Albus asked softly.

Gellert's gaze became a little brighter. “You still ask?”

“You know everything, don't you?” Albus asked. “You know why Anton was so interested in subjugating me.”

Gellert hesitated for a few seconds before nodding in confirmation.

“You won't let me go,” Albus stated again, bitterly.

“I can't let you go now,” Gellert said, confirming his suspicions. 'It's not safe.”

“I don't care if it's safe or not!” Albus reacted angrily. “I need to find my brother. To find out what happened to my sister... you can't stop me!”

“You can bet I will stop you,”  Gellert replied curtly.

“So you're just like Anton!” Albus accused coldly. “You freed me from one cage only to lock me in another!”

“I'm concerned for your safety!” Gellert said irritably.

“That's what Anton always said!” Albus insisted.

“Don't compare me to him!”

“Why not? If all you want is to subjugate me, to force me to bow down—”

“Vogel is after you!” Gellert interrupted him sharply, impatiently pulling a crumpled newspaper clipping from his pocket and throwing it onto Albus's lap.

The omega lowered his eyes to examine the article, feeling a strong sense of unease when he came across a photo of Vogel. His husband looked very downcast, clearly miserable; every now and then he would wipe a stubborn tear from the corner of his eye with a handkerchief. Just above the photograph, in bold letters, was the headline: OMEGA KIDNAPPED! Below it were the words: Gellert Grindelwald is the prime suspect.

In the body of the article, Vogel offered a stratospheric reward to anyone who could provide information leading to the whereabouts of his missing omega.

“Finally, he accuses me of a crime I actually committed,” Gellert said, satisfied.

“I can take care of myself,” Albus insisted. “Especially if I have my wand.”

Gellert shook his head.

“There’s still contaminated blood running through your veins. If Vogel finds you now, he'll only need to snap his fingers to capture you again.”

A chill ran through Albus's body when he heard those words. The mere idea of having to be imprisoned in that house again was terrifying in itself.

“I can't hide forever,” he forced himself to say after a few seconds of hesitation.

“And you won't!” Gellert assured him. “But, at least for now, you'll have to trust me and stay here.”

Albus lowered his eyes to Vogel's photo in the newspaper.

“I'll never trust anyone again,” he muttered.

Gellert took a deep breath.

“You need to gather your strength so you can at least get out of bed, or you'll end up being easy prey, even with a wand in your hand.”

Without waiting for a response, Gellert turned his back and left, leaving Albus alone with his thoughts.

Gellert reappeared after a few hours, carrying a tray.

“I know it's not that good, but eat it anyway,” the alpha said, and Albus thought it was a funny way to apologize for the clear lack of culinary skills the greenish soup betrayed. Still, he risked trying it, hoping that Gellert had the same talent as Aberforth for making ugly but delicious food.

Unfortunately, the taste of the food was quite consistent with its appearance.

“If you didn't kill my parents and kidnap my sister, then who did?” Albus asked after forcing himself to swallow the third spoonful.

Gellert took a deep breath at the difficult question and sat down on the opposite edge of the bed before attempting to answer.

“You must know that a few days before your sister was born, there was a prophecy.”

“Anton told me about it,” Albus replied. “He told me that everyone thought the prophecy referred to my sister.”

“Right... but what he probably didn't tell you was that very few people besides himself knew the content of that prophecy.”

Albus shook his head.

“You're not suggesting that Anton...”

“No, I'm not suggesting it. I'm stating it.”

A familiar uneasiness came over Albus, something he always felt whenever he dared to think badly of Vogel.

“Aren't you jumping to conclusions?” Albus asked, unable to stop himself from defending him. “How can you say such a thing without proof?”

Gellert stared at Albus for a few seconds.

“One of Vogel's subordinates told me everything.”

Albus turned pale. The mere idea that he had married the man responsible for the destruction of his entire family was simply unacceptable. Disgusted, he put the tray aside, unable to continue eating.

“No... this has to be a lie!” he stammered, feeling his vision gradually blur. “You're trying to trick me...”

“I'm telling you the absolute truth,” Gellert assured him, unperturbed by the accusation.

“And what did he do to my sister?” Albus asked coldly.

“My informant couldn't say, but it's very likely that she was killed the moment Vogel discovered she wasn't the real Qilin,” Gellert replied, without bothering to soften that terrible truth or lessen the impact it would have on Albus's heart.

One of the lamps lighting the room exploded. Gellert turned his head toward it quickly, but soon looked back at Albus.

“It's good to be angry,” he said softly. “Anger can be a great ally, believe me.”

It took Albus a while to get out of bed, and when he did, he had to lean against the wall as he slowly walked to the door. He hesitated a little when his fingers touched the cold metal of the doorknob, because for years, Vogel's strictest rule had been never to leave his room without prior authorization.

But this wasn't his room, and Vogel was no longer there. There was no point in being afraid to leave.

Clinging to this reasoning, Albus turned the knob, pleased to find the door unlocked. He crossed the small, cluttered room until he found Gellert sitting outside on a porch beside a small garden, seemingly absorbed in reading a parchment.

“What are you reading?” Albus asked.

If Gellert was startled by that question, he didn't show it. With a gesture, he simply handed the parchment to Albus.

“An article on Transfiguration. It arrived by owl, sent by a comrade of mine this morning.”

“Interesting reading?” he asked with keen curiosity.

“More or less,” Gellert replied thoughtfully. “Overall, it's very good, but there are some rather troubling methodological errors, in my opinion.”

“May I?” Albus asked, pointing at the parchment.

Instead of answering, Gellert simply held the parchment out toward him.

Too weak to remain standing any longer, Albus gestured toward the small space beside Gellert on the bench, and without saying a word, Gellert made room for him. Albus settled in with a sigh of relief before eagerly beginning to read the article.

Even he hadn’t realised how much he’d missed reading about the subject he most enjoyed in life. He devoured every word; reading about magic after so long was so comforting that it felt as if he were regaining his lost life. During the minutes devoted to reading, Albus forgot all his problems and tragedies. It was as if nothing else existed beyond those words, only magic.

“I can understand why you are concerned about the methodology,” he finally commented when he reached the end of the article. “It was a mistake to include samples of perishable materials, as the Transfiguration time for this type of material is usually 13.6% shorter. This must have substantially altered the calculation of the final average...”

The comment drew an interested look from Gellert.

“There is also the problem of curvilinear objects...” he added, unable to contain his excitement at being able to discuss such an advanced topic.

“Don't tell me you didn't take Guann's Theorem into account?” Albus asked, scanning the parchment again.

“I'm pretty sure not,” he said, leaning forward to point at a specific paragraph in the text, and a pendant attached to a silver chain slipped out of his white shirt. Gellert quickly picked it up and hid it under his robes, and only then did he resume the conversation. “Look at these calculations. If Guann's theorem had been applied, I'm sure the results would have been different.”

Albus tilted his head for a few seconds, reciting some numbers in a low voice as he did a rather complex calculation in his head. Gellert watched him with a certain look of admiration until he finally concluded:

“Four point sixteen...”

“Four point sixteen,” Gellert said with an approving smile. “Practically half the time the article says, and if you add it all up...”

“Seventy-three seconds...” Albus commented, and Gellert nodded in agreement. “What an unfortunate slip...”

“Without a doubt.”

“But the article's proposal is still quite interesting...” Albus concluded, returning the parchment.

“Proof that good ideas also come from less privileged minds.”

It was a rather arrogant statement, but Albus laughed nonetheless. Something different had just happened, something that even he, with all his intelligence and brilliance, could not explain.

“You must really like Transfiguration,” Albus said after a few seconds of contemplative silence.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because... it's the first time I've been able to discuss such an advanced topic with someone,” Albus confessed. “With someone my age, I mean.”

“Everything about magic interests me,” Gellert replied, stretching his legs as he searched for a more comfortable position, and then confessed, “But I never had the patience to discuss any of it with anyone. You know how it is... having to explain basic things all the time can be... quite tiring.”

“As for me, I've always enjoyed teaching,” Albus said with a nostalgic smile. “So much so that I once had ambitions to pursue an academic career.” The smile slowly faded. “Nothing could be further from my reality now.”

Gellert stared at Albus for a few seconds and then shrugged. 

“Why be a mere professor when you can rule the world?” he asked. 

Albus looked at Gellert for a few seconds before saying, “The disguise you used to deceive my husband...” When Gellert looked at him sideways, bothered by his choice of words, he corrected himself. “To deceive Anton... was that Polyjuice Potion or Transfiguration?” 

“Transfiguration, of course,” Gellert replied, not bothering to hide his tone of obviousness. “Polyjuice is for the incompetent...” 

“That was a little... harsh,” Albus chided gently. “Very few wizards are capable of performing a complete human Transfiguration. And even when they do, they can’t alter something as subtle as the thickness of their vocal cords, as you did.” 

“I’m glad you noticed this small detail,” Gellert commented, satisfied. “And naturally, I strive for perfection in every spell I cast. It was no coincidence that Vogel trusted me so much. He truly believed I was Percival Graves.” 

Albus took a deep breath. There were so many questions he wanted to ask about everything Gellert had done to get close to Vogel! His memories of the night Gellert had spent with Vogel, disguised as another wizard, were still a little hazy, but one important detail immediately sprang to mind. 

“Was it you who stole the Elder wand?” Albus asked curiously. 

A mischievous smile lit up Gellert’s face as he nodded in confirmation. 

“Is it with you?” Albus asked hesitantly. “Can I... see it?” 

In response, Gellert pulled the wand from the sleeve of his robes. 

Albus stared at the wand for a few seconds, feeling unable to utter words that could express the extent of his fascination with that incredible object. How could anyone who loved magic not be enchanted by the most powerful wand in the world? 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Gellert asked, satisfied. 

“Very!” Albus replied sincerely. “It’s undoubtedly the most impressive wand I’ve ever seen!” 

“Yes,” Gellert agreed, satisfied. “It’s a shame it’s not completely loyal to me.” 

“What do you mean?” Albus asked, without taking his sparkling blue eyes off the wand. “You couldn’t win its loyalty?” 

“No, but that was to be expected. The wand is only loyal to the sacred omega, and, of course, to the alpha chosen by him,” Gellert explained. 

“Still, it looks amazing to me!” Albus exclaimed sincerely. 

“Yes. Even though it’s not completely mine, it’s quite powerful.” 

“Would you... let me hold it?” the omega asked hesitantly.

Albus thought Gellert would refuse, or at least hesitate, but to his surprise, he simply held out his wand in a very confident gesture. The omega then stretched out his fingers to take it, but in the end, the hesitation came from him. Even though he was about to come into contact with magic after so many years, he still had to fight with all his strength against a feeling of extreme discomfort at the thought of doing something Anton would never approve of.

“He’s not your alpha,” Gellert warned the moment he realized Albus’s indecision.

“I... that’s not the only thing that worries me,” Albus confessed, a little embarrassed that Gellert was able to read his insecurities so easily. “They told me that the Ministry put a tracker on me the moment I matured as an omega.”

“They told the truth. All omegas need authorization from their alpha to practice magic. And until that happens, the Ministry puts a tracker on them to ensure they don’t try to perform clandestine spells.”

“That means if I cast even a single spell with this wand, the Ministry will know immediately where I am.”

“Theoretically, yes.”

“Still, you’re offering me the wand...” Albus said, puzzled.

Gellert was silent for a few seconds at the implied question.

“I think we are facing a rare case of magical paradox,” the alpha finally commented.

“What do you mean by that?” Albus asked, now genuinely confused.

“You must know that the house is protected by the Fidelius Charm,” Gellert explained. “A spell specially designed so that no one can find this place.”

Albus’s eyes lit up when he finally realized the dilemma.

“Which spell would prevail, then?” Albus asked. “The Ministry’s or yours?”

“I would venture to say that the more powerful spell will prevail,” Gellert suggested.

“And do you happen to believe that you are more powerful than the Ministry itself?”

“I believe there’s only one way to find out,” Gellert said, extending his wand toward Albus again.

“But... what if the Ministry’s spell is more powerful and they find us?” Albus asked, still hesitant.

“Don’t worry,” Gellert said confidently. “If that happens, I’ll protect you.”

Albus looked at Gellert for a few seconds, admiringly. Vogel talked constantly about protecting him, but despite all his efforts, Albus never truly felt safe around him. On the contrary, the more Vogel tried to hide him in a fortress locked behind seven seals, the more Albus felt exposed… vulnerable.

With Gellert, everything felt so different.

The Elder Wand finally slid into his hand, and Albus had to close his eyes to contain his excitement as he felt magic coursing through his body at last. He had dreamed of this moment for so many years! Happier than ever, Albus looked around for a way to test the wand and soon spotted a pile of dry leaves gathered in the opposite corner of the room. A subtle gesture was enough to make the leaves levitate obediently, flying toward them. Moments later, each one transformed into delicate flower petals.

Gellert couldn’t help but smile as he found himself surrounded by a whirlwind of petals, delighting in the delicate scent of the flowers. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one striving for perfection in every spell.

Returning to magic after so many years while still so physically weakened was no easy task, and it didn’t take long for Albus’s vision to fade. The wand slipped from his hand as the omega fell to the side, but Gellert caught him before he fainted, wrapping Albus in his arms so tightly that he drew him gently back to consciousness.

Never in his life had Albus felt as safe as he did in that moment, protected within Gellert’s arms.

“Powerful, isn’t it?” Gellert asked as he picked the wand up from the floor. “Imagine when it’s finally in the hands of the supreme alpha. What incredible things he’ll be able to do with it!”

“Maybe that will never happen,” Albus murmured, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“In that case, I think I’ll keep it for myself,” Gellert said, making the wand vanish into the inner pocket of his robes.

Chapter Text

During his entire time with Vogel, there was not a single day when Albus felt at home.

No matter how comfortable, spacious, and luxurious it was, the alpha's mansion never felt like home. Not even in the beginning. At first glance, it seemed cold and a little too impersonal. As time went by, it got worse and worse; what was once just an unfriendly place turned into a gilded cage.

The house Gellert had chosen as a hideout was quite different; although small, it was also warm and very cozy, unlike the cage where Vogel had kept him imprisoned for years. Perhaps it was precisely the simplicity of the place, so similar to the small house where he had lived in Godric's Hollow, that attracted Albus so much, or maybe it was... something else.

During the first days of recovery, Albus spent most of his time in bed. Still weak, he slept for hours, and when he woke up, he had to fight against intrusive thoughts caused by Vogel's spell, a constant feeling of guilt for not being a good omega, for being far from his alpha.

Gellert thought that time would diminish Vogel's hold on his spirit until it disappeared, like a very high musical note gradually fading away. Albus just wanted that out-of-tune sound to be muffled all at once.

After a few days, the omega ventured on short walks through the garden, which he found quite pleasant, even though it was small and had only one tree. Gellert watched over him closely, and it wasn't long before he suggested that he go back to bed.

“I'm fine,” Albus replied, tired of resting, even though his legs felt a little wobbly.

“No, you're not,” Gellert assured him in return, as if he could tell how weak he was just by the way he walked.

Albus gradually recovered. With each passing day, the number of steps increased and the effect of Vogel's spell on his spirit diminished. And Albus knew Gellert was right the moment he found himself paying attention to his looks.

It wasn't just the fact that Gellert was much younger than Anton Vogel that made him so attractive. That alpha was undeniably... handsome! His golden hair framed his well-defined face, his body was strong, and his gaze was deep enough to reveal extreme intelligence. But despite being a feast for the eyes, Gellert's physical beauty was not what most attracted Albus; what attracted him most was, without a doubt, his love of magic. Gellert was capable of debating complex issues for hours without getting bored, and he was always ready to listen to Albus's opinions on any magical topic. He also lent him his wand as often as Albus asked, showing deep admiration for every spell he cast.

In the morning, an owl would always arrive with the newspaper and often brought some new books Gellert had ordered, all of them on the most intriguing topics of contemporary magic. And they would spend hours and hours reading and discussing their impressions. Only during these pleasant moments, when they read and talked about magic, did Albus truly feel at peace, without worrying about Vogel or his family. His only interest was paying close attention to the brilliant arguments while he developed his own theories and notes.

Talking to Gellert was so easy, and when he was with him, the hours seemed to fly by.

Who could have guessed that the man who, until recently, Albus had thought was largely responsible for his tragedy, was actually so... similar to him in many ways? Gellert, like Albus, loved magic. More than that, he could truly feel and understand magic, and how important it was. Brilliant, he created spells with remarkable ease, and complex theories seemed surprisingly simple to him. But although he loved to talk about magic, things changed a little whenever Albus tried to steer the conversation toward more personal matters. When asked about his private life, the talkative Gellert became aloof, almost monosyllabic. And no matter how hard he tried, it was hard to get much out of him.

That changed one day when they were sitting on the porch outside the house, after spending an entire afternoon exploring a book of spells. From time to time, a particular spell would catch the attention of one of them, who would pick up the wand on a nearby table to try to reproduce it, and laugh at some of the more exotic results, such as a spell to make inanimate objects behave like chickens.

“Is it true that you were expelled from Durmstrang?” Albus asked at that very moment, keeping his tone casual.

Gellert took a moment to look up from the old boot that was now pecking at the ground nearby and nodded in confirmation; when Albus asked what he had done, he just shrugged and, without even seeming embarrassed, explained that he had used one of the Unforgivable Curses on a classmate.

“You were lucky you didn't end up in jail,” Albus scolded him, albeit gently. “Using the Cruciatus Curse on someone...”

“I was a kid, only sixteen; they couldn't arrest me even if they wanted to,” Gellert said indifferently.

“And what did your classmate do that was so serious that it deserved such a severe punishment?” Albus wanted to know.

Gellert hesitated slightly before pulling on the silver chain that hung around his neck, which Albus had seen peeking out from under his robes on the very first day. A beautiful, bright red pendant swung from it.

“He thought it would be a good idea to mock it,” Gellert explained, frowning at the memory. “And I had no choice but to make him regret it.”

“And what... what is that, exactly?” Albus asked, watching the strange red glow of the pendant closely.

Another hesitation. The subject was clearly a delicate one.

“It's the symbol of a... blood pact,” Gellert replied, then added, “a commitment.”

For a few seconds, Albus was speechless. He hadn’t expected such an answer.

“A... commitment?” Albus asked. “What kind of commitment?”

And of all the answers, this one was even more surprising.

“A marriage,” Gellert said casually.

Albus had definitely not expected a conversation about expulsion to take this turn.

“Marriage?” he asked, unable to hide his astonishment. “You got married that young?”

“Why are you so surprised? I was only a year younger than you when you married Vogel,” Gellert replied dismissively.

“Well... at least I was of legal age,” Albus retorted, uncomfortable, only to attack again: “How did your parents allow you to marry at only sixteen?”

Gellert chuckled dismissively.

“They didn't,” he clarified. “Not that it matters, because I didn't bother asking for their permission.”

Albus frowned, seeing very little sense in any of this.

“And why would your colleague mock a marriage?”

Gellert took a deep breath and cast another long look at the pendant.

“Because I didn't marry a person,” Gellert finally replied. “I married a god.”

Albus was speechless for a few seconds at this revelation. At first, he thought it was a joke, but Gellert seemed deadly serious. Immediately, a dozen questions swarmed through his mind, one after another.

“How does one marry a god?” The omega decided to start with the basics.

“The same way you marry anyone else,” Gellert replied simply.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence followed. Albus could hardly believe that an alpha like Gellert could...

“What if tomorrow you happen to meet... I don't know, an omega?”

“My oath includes a vow of chastity, if that's what you're wondering,” Gellert replied, which made Albus press his lips together in intrigue.

“You say that very calmly, but how could a young alpha resist an omega in heat?” he challenged.

“With willpower,” Gellert replied, as if the answer were very obvious. “And if that fails, well... the pact itself has ways of preventing me from doing anything stupid, from what I’ve heard. It seems that a single thought is enough to activate it.”

Albus frowned at the implication of that statement.

“Don't tell me you've never even thought about...”

“I've never had the time or interest in that kind of thing,” Gellert cut him off indifferently.

Albus, however, would not be easily convinced.

“And you intend to remain... chaste... for the rest of your life?” Albus pressed.

“Of course.”

“Even if one day you find your omega? The one you're supposed to mark?”

“Even so.”

That answer somehow annoyed Albus.

“Don't you think that's a little selfish?” he asked.

“Selfish?” Gellert asked, clearly confused by the question. “What are you talking about?”

“I'm talking about abandoning your omega to marry... a god?”

Gellert frowned.

“I don't have an omega.”

“Of course you do!” Albus retorted. “Every alpha does! And apparently, you intend to condemn yours to a life of loneliness.”

Now it was Gellert's turn to be annoyed.

“You didn't seem to care about any of that when you married Anton Vogel,” Gellert shot back, and Albus immediately felt uncomfortable.

“My marriage to Anton wasn’t...” He stopped when he felt something inside him twist with pure disgust, as if resistance came from his own spirit. “It was never...” Another pause to take a deep breath before continuing. “Real...”

“But you still abandoned your alpha,” Gellert kept accusing. “And not just any alpha, the greatest alpha of all.”

“My case is different,” Albus replied, grimacing, reaching out for his wand, making the enchanted boot stop clucking on the other side of the yard with a spell so powerful that it flipped over three times before coming to rest very close to Gellert’s feet. “And I would love to know where this... alpha was during all the years Anton kept me imprisoned...”

Gellert just looked at Albus, and this time it was him who had no good arguments to offer. It was difficult to defend someone he didn't even know.

Hours after that conversation, while lying in bed, Albus thought that, in a way, the whole mad story of being married to a god could be quite beneficial, even reassuring. If Gellert had really made a pact not to get involved with anyone, then he wouldn't dare try to mark him and, at least in theory, he would be safe...

Albus just couldn't explain why this thought made him so unhappy.

“Something is very wrong with my sense of smell,” Albus remarked on the first day he’d had the strength to prepare and sit down at the table for breakfast. Eating on his own, without being told what to do, had become a rather tiring and unrewarding challenge because, in recent years, even the taste of food had lost its flavour.

Gellert looked up from his cup briefly. 

“Your sense of smell?” he asked, frowning. 

“Yes,” Albus confirmed, cupping a hand to waft the warm steam from his hot chocolate toward his face. “I can barely smell the aroma of this drink, which has always been one of my favourites...” 

“This must have something to do with the spell Vogel put on you,” Gellert remarked, reaching for the salt shaker. 

“I feared that might be the reason,” Albus lamented, seeing his suspicions confirmed. 

“No one would want the omega under the spell's control to wake up when sensing the pheromones of his true alpha, would they?” 

Albus frowned, truly hating hearing that. 

“What a cruel curse,” he murmured absently. 

“Indeed,” Gellert agreed before wiping his mouth with a slightly torn cloth napkin. “That's why it's so important that you free yourself from it completely.” 

“I... try,” Albus murmured in response. “But every now and then, I still feel so... guilty.” 

“Guilty about what?” Gellert asked, raising an eyebrow in irritation. 

Albus hesitated for a moment. 

“That he's not really my alpha...” 

Gellert didn't like that answer at all. 

“If he were your alpha, it would mean that the whole world would end up in Anton Vogel's hands. And that would be a real tragedy!” 

“Would it?” Albus asked doubtfully, driven by the curse that always led him to question anything said against his husband. “Everyone says he's a good administrator.” 

“Good for whom?” Gellert asked, already a little irritated by what he considered to be an attempt at defence. “Certainly not for omegas...” 

“Anton has always cared deeply about them...” Albus insisted once more. 

“Under the pretext of caring for the omegas, Vogel prevents them from studying, from working... not even magic, the most sacred and special gift of all, may be practised by omegas without the permission of an alpha!” Gellert laughed. “It would be much better if he didn't worry so much...” 

Albus shook his head, wondering for a second if Gellert was just saying those things to impress him. 

“Why does an alpha like you care so much about the well-being of omegas?” he asked.

“Is that a problem for you?” Gellert asked angrily. 

“No, of course not...” Albus lifted his cup to his lips. “Although I find it ironic that you care about the well-being of all the omegas in the world except your own.” 

Gellert rolled his eyes. 

“Apparently, you do care about my... hypothetical omega,” the alpha snapped, before taking a bite of his scrambled eggs. “May I ask why?” 

Albus shrugged. 

“I think you would make a good alpha.” Seeing Gellert blink in surprise at the compliment, he quickly added, “I say this because of the way you worked so hard for years to rescue me...” 

“Ah...” 

And when Gellert offered no comment, Albus had to press him:

“I confess I would very much like to understand your motives,” the omega said as he cut a piece of cake. “Why do you waste your precious time on me?” 

“Because like any normal person, I want a better world for all wizards,” Gellert replied as if it were very obvious. “A world that only a Qilin can provide.” 

“If that means forcing me to bow down...” 

“No one can force you,” Gellert interrupted immediately. 

Albus chewed his cake slowly. Without his sense of smell, it didn’t taste as good. 

“Perhaps your intention is to convince me,” he suggested. 

“I am not Vogel,” Gellert replied, annoyed. “And unlike that great idiot, I know you need no convincing. Once you are able to free yourself from the curse he placed on you, nature will surely take its course and you will bow down to your alpha, whoever that may be.” 

“Now you treat me as if I were an object,” Albus complained. “A key, perhaps... capable of opening the door to your ideal world.” 

When Gellert said nothing, the omega added bitterly: 

“You’re wasting your time.” 

Gellert shook his head. 

“You don’t understand,” he concluded. “You really don’t understand the importance of the Qilin...” 

“The Qilin is nothing more than a legend, Gellert,” Albus said very calmly. “A legend created to manipulate people.” 

“That’s not true!” Gellert replied angrily. 

“Frankly, I’m surprised that someone as rational as you doesn’t realise that,” Albus insisted. “It seems so clear to me...” 

“Not everything is about logic and reason,” Gellert replied, gently rubbing the eyelid of his blind eye. “Nature also matters.” 

Albus’s eyes rested on Gellert for a few seconds. 

“Since you mentioned nature...” the omega said, changing the subject to an equally delicate matter, “I must warn you that very soon it will be a full moon. And with it... well...” 

“Don’t worry about that,” Gellert interrupted, already guessing what Albus was referring to. “I guarantee you’ll be completely safe.” 

A short silence followed. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve been in heat alone,” Albus murmured absently, running his finger around the rim of his empty cup. 

“At least this time you won’t be in Vogel’s hands,” Gellert replied indifferently. 

When he heard that, a strange feeling took hold of Albus’s heart, but he ignored it.

On the day of the full moon, at dusk, Gellert cast spells to seal every door and window in the house. 

“I don't see the point in doing that,” Albus said after a few minutes of silent observation. 

Gellert did not look up from the door handle, where his wand was now pointed. 

“I'm not doing this for myself, but for you,” Gellert explained calmly. “As long as you're here, I guarantee you'll be completely safe.” 

“I can see a small flaw in your reasoning,” Albus said as gently as he could. 

Gellert finally looked up at Albus. 

“You don't need to worry about me,” he assured him. 

“I don't mean to be rude, but I can’t quite share your confidence,” Albus hesitated. “May I ask if you've ever been around an omega in heat?” 

“I know how to control myself,” Gellert replied curtly. 

Albus shook his head. 

“No, you don't. No alpha in the world does.” 

Gellert sighed impatiently. 

“And what do you suggest?” he asked. “I thought about stepping away for a few hours, but I don't think it's safe to leave the Qilin alone and unprotected at such a vulnerable time. You could... get hurt.” 

“You said nature is important, so... why don't we both just let it... run its course?” Albus suggested softly, and when Gellert raised his eyebrows in surprise, he blushed deeply and immediately backed away. “I... I... I'm sorry... I don't know why I suggested that.” 

“It seems you're already feeling the first effects of heat,” Gellert replied in a neutral tone, pointing his wand at the doorknob again, this time with a little more determination. “It will be dark soon.” 

Albus closed his eyes, feeling his whole body tremble. 

“I'm... scared,” he finally confessed. 

“You won't be alone,” Gellert assured him. “I'll protect you.”

During the first hours of heat, Albus paced back and forth through the house, then, exhausted, threw himself onto the bed and rolled from side to side in torment, his mind fixed on a single thought:

An alpha! He needed an alpha!

An hour later, in utter despair, Albus finally mustered the courage to drag himself to the front door.

An alpha! An alpha! An alpha!

Gellert's spell was very effective. Without a wand, he knew he would never be able to open that door and free himself to seek the comfort he so desperately needed. But even though he couldn't smell him, Albus knew perfectly well that on the other side of that door was an alpha who could help him, who could protect him from that terrible helplessness.

“Gellert...” he called softly, his nails scratching the wood of the door. “Gellert...”

There was no answer.

“Gellert, please open the door!” Albus insisted.

Seconds passed, and Albus heard the frantic sound of footsteps on the wooden boards outside the house, realising that Gellert was pacing back and forth, perhaps as anxious as he was.

“You want this too!” Albus pleaded. “I know you can smell me...”

“Shut up!” Gellert's voice echoed from the other side of the door, but Albus's keen senses detected a hint of hesitation.

“All you have to do is take your wand out of your pocket and open that door,” Albus insisted. “Gellert... please...”

A few seconds passed in silence.

“I can't!” Gellert finally replied, his voice weaker than ever.

Albus quickly concluded that the pact Gellert had made was preventing him from acting, and several possible arguments raced through his mind to try to convince him to break his vows. He even thought of saying that gods did not exist and that, if they did, they would not be angry to see their creatures follow their own natures... that this entire pact business was nonsense, a waste of time...

...that if Gellert so desired, he would bow and bend his neck for him to mark him... and Gellert would be the ruler of the world!

Horrified by his own thoughts, Albus decided, with great difficulty, not to say any of them out loud. And it was his turn to fight with all his strength to endure his torment in silence.

The hours dragged on, slow and excruciating, until the moon finally disappeared from the sky and was replaced by the first rays of sunlight. When the spell Gellert had cast on all the doors and windows wore off, Albus opened the front door, hoping to find Gellert and tell him it was over.

But there was no one there.

A chill ran through his body when Albus spotted a bloodstain on the wooden floor, and for a second, his mind conjured up the most terrible tragedies. Perhaps the tracking spell cast by the Ministry was indeed more powerful than Gellert's magic, or worse, perhaps the Secret-Keeper was not Gellert himself and Vogel had somehow managed to extract the secret from him.

His heart tightened in his chest as he imagined Gellert wounded and dragged away by wizards from the Confederation.

No, no… that didn't make sense! Why only Gellert and not him? Vogel would certainly not be kind enough to wait for his heat to pass before capturing him again; on the contrary, he would seize the opportunity. That alpha would surely take advantage of that vulnerable moment to break into the house and reinforce the spell that bound Albus to him.

Taking a deep breath, Albus tried to stay calm and push those thoughts away, focusing on the trail of dried blood on the floor until he rounded the porch. A few more hurried steps, and Albus found the alpha unconscious at the back of the house, a mixture of relief and astonishment washing over him.

“Gellert!” Albus called out as he slowly approached him. “Gellert? Gellert, how did you get hurt?”

Gellert slowly opened his eyes as Albus leaned over him, but before he could answer, Albus's fingers grasped his wrists, horror spreading across his pale eyes. The alpha's arms were covered in deep bites, and as if that weren't enough, badly scratched and smeared with dirt, as though he had rubbed them against the ground repeatedly.

“I discovered that pain is a great distraction,” Gellert confessed with a triumphant smile.

“You did all this... just to avoid sleeping with me?” Albus asked weakly.

Gellert said nothing, just took a deep breath, closing his eyes, exhausted after a whole night of struggling against his own nature.

Unable to contain himself, Albus brushed a strand of golden hair from Gellert's face, gently caressing his dirt-stained cheek. And it was at that moment, as a wave of sadness filled his chest, that Albus realized he had fallen in love with the only alpha in the world who seemed uninterested in marking him.

Chapter Text

Under intense protest, Gellert was carried into the house and forced to lie down on Albus's bed.

“I'm fine,” the alpha grumbled, annoyed. “I don't need you to take care of me.”

Instead of responding, Albus simply took hold of one of Gellert’s wrists, pulling him closer to examine his injuries.

“I need your wand,” he finally concluded.

“I can heal myself.”

“Your wand,” Albus insisted in a tone Gellert couldn’t disobey. Reluctantly, the alpha reached into his robes, suppressing a groan of pain at the simple movement, and handed it over with a dismissive gesture.

Albus took the wand and set to work with silent dedication.

With gentle movements, Albus healed the wounds scattered across Gellert’s arms, one by one. It was hard to believe the power of the Elder Wand. With it, even the simplest of spells seemed a little more intense than expected. His old wand was very good, but it couldn't compare to this one. But as incredible as the wand was, what attracted him most wasn’t its power, but the chance to feel Gellert’s magic stored within it.

“Apparently your night was as long as mine,” Albus commented absently as he tried to heal a slightly deeper wound.

Gellert said nothing; he didn’t even look his way. Albus then took a deep breath and set about healing another scratch before continuing.

“I'm sorry...” he said as he moved on to a particularly nasty wound.

This finally caught Gellert's attention.

“You did nothing wrong,” he said very quietly.

“I shouldn't have called you,” Albus insisted.

“It made little or no difference,” Gellert replied, stroking the newly scarred skin on his forearm. “Unlike yours, my sense of smell is in perfect condition.”

And even though he knew that his attraction to Gellert's scent was as physiological as it was temporary, a slight blush coloured Albus's face when he heard that.

“I have no idea what I smell like...” Albus commented, still busy healing the many wounds scattered across Gellert's arms.

For a few seconds, the alpha didn’t respond, seeming extremely focused on the ceiling; but just when Albus had convinced himself the conversation was over, he spoke again, in an almost inaudible tone.

“You smell... citrusy and sweet at the same time. Like a mild mixture of lemon and caramel.”

Albus knew he shouldn’t ask; it was inappropriate, almost disrespectful after witnessing all the sacrifices Gellert had made just to maintain his celibacy. Still, the question escaped his lips.

“Do you like it?” and, taking a deep breath to try to contain his own nervousness, he added, “Do you like my smell?”

Gellert hesitated a moment before nodding briefly, making Albus’s heart flip. But the omega’s joy at knowing the alpha didn’t reject his scent was short-lived, for he immediately added:

“You’re the Qilin, after all.”

Albus took that as a reminder that all alphas in the world would probably feel some attraction to his scent. Therefore, there was nothing special about Gellert enjoying his pheromones, just nature speaking, and nothing more.

With a subtle wave of his wand, Gellert's last wound was closed, leaving him with no reason to remain.

“I think you'd better get some rest,” Albus suggested, then added softly, “unless you want me to stay a little longer.”

“Don't worry,” Gellert replied, already trying to get up. “I shouldn't even be here. I'm going back to my sofa.”

“I'm not worried,” Albus lied as he gently pushed Gellert back onto the bed. “Now stay where you are and try to get some sleep.”

Albus then left the wand on the bed next to Gellert and took a few quiet steps toward the door.

“Albus...” Gellert called softly, and after a few seconds of hesitation, added, “Thank you.”

A discreet smile spread across the omega's face, and he nodded briefly before finally leaving.

Everything became a little more difficult after that day.

Albus had never fallen in love before, so he couldn’t tell whether it was normal to feel that uncomfortable ache in his chest whenever Gellert was around, a growing restlessness, a longing to be together all the time, and, beyond that, an almost uncontrollable urge to feel the texture of that shiny blond hair, to caress Gellert’s skin, so pale and inviting, to taste his well-defined lips...

Maybe everything would be different if he could smell Gellert. Perhaps that alpha’s pheromones were so repulsive that they stopped him from noticing the perfection of his young body, so much younger than Vogel’s, the almost angelic shape of his face, the pleasant tone of his voice...

But since he couldn't smell Gellert, all he had left was his human, passionate side, which made him dream of the most absurd things, imagining what it would be like if Gellert used his alpha voice to make him submit. His prodigious imagination painted every detail of how he would be in bed, fantasising about the alpha’s teeth piercing the skin of his neck.

Sometimes, Albus thought he would go crazy from thinking so much.

To distract himself from those insistent feelings, he often turned to magic. Borrowing Gellert’s wand, he would spend hours practising complex, advanced spells until he was so exhausted he could no longer think. And it almost always worked.

Unless...

“Impressive,” Gellert said with admiration, watching the particularly complex spell Albus had just cast.

Feeling his face grow warm, Albus smiled shyly at the compliment.

“This spell earned me the Barnabus Finkley Award for Exceptional Spell-Casting,” Albus said, unable to hide a hint of pride. “It took me six months to master it.”

“It was undoubtedly well deserved,” Gellert acknowledged.

Albus smiled. At least Gellert's admiration for his talent for magic seemed to have nothing to do with his pheromones.

“It was my first competition,” Albus continued nostalgically, “and from then on, I developed a taste for it. I won several more awards. My brother, Aberforth, used to say I must have poured a few drops of Amortentia into the judges’ pumpkin juice.”

“Ah, that would explain a lot...” Gellert joked, making Albus chuckle.

“I was about to travel to Cairo when I had my first heat,” he continued, his tone slightly darker now. “I was going to attend my first International Alchemy Conference. My project was incredible; I was confident I’d leave with the gold medal. But then I became an omega, and my future, which had seemed so promising, was taken from me and locked away in some closet at the Ministry, along with my wand.”

A heavy silence fell between them before Gellert finally said:

“Vogel. He's to blame for everything! If he hadn't done everything he did, maybe...”

Albus let out a dejected sigh.

“Even if Vogel hadn’t done anything, I’d still be an omega like everyone else,” he said bitterly. “Even with my wand, I wouldn’t be able to study or work, and I’d have to spend the rest of my days subjugated to some alpha.”

Albus lowered his eyes and, feeling very tired, set his wand aside, his blue eyes lost in the rhythmic swaying of the branches of the only tree in the yard.

“You are not just any omega!” Gellert observed as his hand wrapped around the wand and guided Albus’s long fingers to close around it. “In your hands lies the power to transform the world.”

Albus smiled at the kind words of comfort, even though he felt that, in reality, his special condition was nothing more than another invisible chain that would keep him captive for the rest of his life.

“Do you want to learn?” he asked softly, wanting to change the subject. When Gellert raised an eyebrow, he added, “The spell I just cast.”

“No wizard likes to teach his best tricks,” Gellert replied.

“It just so happens that I'm not just any wizard,” Albus replied cheerfully, making Gellert smile.

“So... what are the next steps?” Albus asked later that evening, as he watched Gellert use his wand to light the fire in the fireplace.

Gellert looked away from the fire for a few seconds before resuming his work, intensifying the flames slightly. The silence forced the omega to insist:

“Don’t expect me to believe you’re not thinking about it,” Albus said calmly. “I’m sure you already have an idea of what your next moves will be...”

Gellert finally turned to Albus, and his shrewd eyes fixed on him for a few seconds.

“It’s true that I have a few moves planned,” he acknowledged as he deftly tucked his wand into his pocket. “But it’s not my turn to play yet.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Gellert sat down in a nearby chair and, taking a deep breath, explained:

“I’ve already told you, until you are completely free of the curse Vogel has placed on you, leaving this place will be very dangerous. The moment you set foot outside, Vogel will be able to locate you, and when that happens, if you’re not prepared to resist...”

Albus’s shoulders tensed slightly.

“But we can’t just stay here indefinitely, waiting for time to pass,” he argued.

“Vogel has the clock ticking against him. Very soon, the elections will come, and the candidate he himself chose has turned out to be his worst enemy. Vogel needs to find you as soon as possible, or he’ll be forced to leave power, and when that happens... it will be much easier to make him see the color green at the tip of my wand.”

A shiver of discomfort ran through Albus’s entire body when he heard that, making it very clear that, yes, Vogel’s spell still had an effect on him. So much so that it took some effort for Albus to speak again.

“Anton will try to buy more time. Maybe even prevent the elections from happening...”

“No doubt,” Gellert agreed. “That’s precisely why I say it’s his turn to play.”

Albus shook his head thoughtfully.

“He’ll try to find a way to force me out of hiding...” he murmured, and seconds later, the terrible conclusion came to him. “Aberforth may be in danger!”

“Ah, I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you,” Gellert replied.

“Why not?” Albus asked. “It’s the most obvious course of action!”

“Vogel doesn’t know I weakened the spell. He probably thinks I’m keeping you prisoner somehow while you’re doing everything you can to escape and get back to him,” Gellert retorted. “And, no offense, but it doesn’t make much difference to me whether your brother is alive or dead.”

“Still, I need... I need to know if Aberforth is all right.”

“Just send him an owl then,” Gellert suggested, sensing Albus's intention to reach out to his brother.

“I don't know... he never answered my letters, maybe he won't even open...” And when he saw Gellert's look, Albus quickly stopped himself. “Aberforth never received an owl from me, did he?”

“That's a very logical deduction,” Gellert replied.

“I... I'll try writing to him one more time,” Albus said, full of hope. “Can you lend me your owl?”

Gellert nodded briefly before settling himself more comfortably in his chair, placing both feet on the sofa right next to where Albus was sitting. The omega's eyes then slowly wandered over the alpha's long legs, and he needed some time to reorganize his thoughts while pretending not to notice the alpha's relaxed yet attractive position.

“You don't seem very concerned about what Anton might do to you...” Albus observed, seeing him so relaxed.

“Vogel is no match for me,” Gellert said dismissively. “And soon, he'll find that out the hard way.”

Albus bit his lip. “He may still try to go after people who are important to you...”

“Too bad for him that I don't care about anyone.” Gellert then paused briefly to remove the cord from inside his robes. “Or anything except... this.”

Albus stared at the red pendant that now glowed before his eyes like an enemy. Annoyed, he decided to change the subject a little.

“All right, but there must be some way to ensure that I get rid of Anton's spell as quickly as possible. Maybe there's even a way to... speed up the process,” he suggested, and when Gellert didn't respond, he pressed his fingertips together and began to think. “Maybe... with Occlumency...”

“Occlumency?” Gellert was surprised. “But the connection between you has a magical origin, not a mental one.”

“That's true, but if I can clear my mind as much as possible, maybe that will help weaken the magical connection to the point of breaking it once and for all.”

Gellert once again took a while to respond, trying to think about that plan as objectively as possible.

“It wouldn't be easy,” he predicted. “The spell itself will pull your mind back the moment you try to pull away. Resisting that would require the most advanced Occlumency.”

Albus smiled faintly. “You must imagine that I have some talent for Occlumency,” he said, without modesty. “But you're right, I may still need some help...”

“Are you sure you really want to do this?” Gellert asked, and Albus immediately understood the warning hidden beneath that question: did he really want Gellert, of all people, poking around in his brain?

But if Albus wasn't even capable of protecting his foolish feelings for Gellert, how could he possibly cleanse Vogel from his mind? How could he free himself from a spell embedded in his own blood?

And if there was one thing Albus had never lacked, it was confidence in his own abilities.

“Yes, yes,” he confirmed. “I'm sure.”

And seeing Albus so confident, Gellert finally gave in.

“If that's what you want, so be it. We'll start tomorrow.”

As they sat across from each other on the porch, Gellert picked up his wand.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked once more, and when Albus nodded briefly, Gellert pointed his wand at Albus's forehead, and as the omega closed his eyes, cast, “Legilimency!”

Albus opened his eyes again and realized that he was no longer sitting across from Gellert on a very humid summer morning, but standing at the door of his house on a cold night in Godric's Hollow. The memory of that fateful day was still vivid. Everything was so clear that it was as if he had stuck his head in a Pensieve. Standing at the entrance to his old home, Albus could see every detail of that place. The only difference was that, unlike in a Pensieve, he was reliving the scene through his own body, as if he had truly gone back in time.

He ventured a few steps into the living room, just as he had done about years ago, but now knowing that, very soon, a voice would emerge from the semi-darkness.

“There's food on the stove. Your brother left it for you. I hope you're hungry, because it doesn't look very appetizing.”

Albus took a few steps toward the owner of that voice and found Anton Vogel sitting cross-legged on the living room sofa, with an empty glass on the small table beside him.

“Anton...” he said, feeling a rush of emotions. Part of him felt utter revulsion, while another part, still intoxicated by the spell, screamed that he was standing before his alpha and should submit. But Albus knew that those feelings were not real. Vogel was not his alpha, and he would never bow down before him.

“Your brother let me in,” the Vogel from his memory continued, seemingly unconcerned by Albus's silence. “It was very kind of him to let me wait here when he had to return to Hogwarts a quarter of an hour ago.”

“You should return to Berlin,” Albus finally said, feeling his legs tremble.

“My mission here is not yet over,” Vogel replied softly. “Ensuring your safety is far more important than any task that may be waiting for me in Berlin.”

Albus took a few more steps toward Vogel, overcome with anguish. “Yes... you've always been very concerned about my safety, haven't you?” Albus asked bitterly. “And his gaze always seemed so worried, so... benign.”

“Don’t tell me it was Vogel’s benign gaze that deceived you,” a sharp voice made Albus flinch in surprise.

Gellert was sitting right next to Vogel. The alpha turned his head, a fleeting expression of disgust appearing on his face as soon as he laid eyes on Vogel.

“Your memory is truly remarkable,” Gellert commented, still looking at Vogel with contempt. “I can almost smell his stench.”

Albus was unable to say anything for the next few seconds; he was so shocked by the sight of the two alphas in his life sitting there, side by side.

“I really believed him,” Albus finally said, in hesitant self-defence. “I was young...”

“Oh, yes, but that's not why you went along,” Gellert retorted, unmoved by those arguments.

“I went along because...”

“Because...” Gellert prompted him, and as Albus hesitated to answer, he pressed, “Don't tell me you fell in love with him.”

And the moment he said that, Gellert saw the whole scene around him fade away as he was unceremoniously thrown out of Albus's mind.

“You should be doing that to Vogel, not me!” Gellert grumbled as he found himself back in reality.

Only then did Albus open his eyes and, angrily, hold Gellert's gaze.

“That was very invasive of you!” he protested.

“I was inside your mind!” Gellert retorted, undaunted. “It couldn't have been more invasive than that.”

“That's not what I meant, and you know it.”

“It was a legitimate question.”

“An absolutely irrelevant question, if I may say so.”

“I don't think it's irrelevant. If you have feelings for Vogel...”

“I don't have feelings for him!” Albus interrupted impatiently.

“You should hate him!” Gellert insisted. “Hate is also a feeling. And a very valid one, at that.”

“Maybe you're right, but I don't hate Anton,” Albus replied, adding shortly after, that doesn't mean I love him either.”

“All right...” Gellert conceded, looking a little more relaxed. “Let's try again, if you don't mind.”

And the moment Albus nodded, Gellert's wand flashed, forcing him to close his eyes. When he opened his eyes again, Albus was in a new place. This time, he had returned to the throne room reserved for the supreme alpha and omega in Bhutan.

“This is the place that all alphas in the world would like to occupy,” Vogel said, pointing to the throne on the left. “And next to it is the throne reserved for the Qilin, the sacred omega.”

Albus looked at the throne covered in gold and its seat lined with red velvet. It looked brighter and more majestic than ever.

“Was it for power, then?” Gellert asked, and when Albus turned his head toward his voice, he found the alpha sitting comfortably on the throne meant for the supreme alpha. “You let yourself be seduced by the possibility of ruling the entire world, and that blinded you.”

Albus said nothing, just stared at Gellert sitting there on that golden throne, and his speculations ceased to matter as he devoted all his strength to blocking the feelings the mere sight inspired in him.

With some effort, he locked away the fantasy of bowing down to Gellert and reigning alongside him until the end of his days.

“No...” Gellert answered his own question thoughtfully. “You wouldn't need to marry Vogel to achieve any of that. And I'm afraid that kind of ambition doesn't suit you very well...”

“Why are my motives so important?” Albus asked, unimpressed by the compliment.

Gellert shrugged. “Because I'm curious.”

“In that case, why don't you just ask me? Why are you trying to search my mind like this?”

“I'm not sure you'd tell me the truth,” Gellert said bluntly.

“It doesn't hurt to try,” Albus replied. “You are in my mind, after all. It's the closest I could get to a sincere answer.”

And then Gellert rose from the alpha throne and, with his hands in his pockets, came a little closer before answering.

“Very well, Albus... Can you tell me then why you let yourself be so easily seduced by Vogel? Are you sure you weren't in love with him?”

“I already told you no,” Albus replied, not quite understanding the reason for his insistence on that specific point.

“Then what was the reason?” Gellert insisted, in a tone that could even be called possessive if he and Albus had some kind of relationship. “I would very much like to understand.”

Instead of answering, Albus just closed his eyes briefly, and when he reopened them, he felt a chill as Vogel's protective arm wrapped around his shoulders with deliberate care, while the alpha walked with the omega toward the exit of the throne room.

“There is another way to help you,” Vogel suggested as the doors to the throne room closed behind them. “If you are not yet ready to take your position as Qilin, I can offer you another way out.”

And Vogel's features soon softened as he took the omega's two hands between his own.

“Marry me, Albus!”

Just as he had done the first time, Albus tried to pull away from that touch, but was immediately pulled back close by a gentle tug on his hand from Vogel.

“If you agree to be my omega, even if only temporarily, you can have your wand back,” Vogel assured him. “And you'll get everything you want!”

“Now I understand...” Gellert said from behind him. “You really did let yourself be blinded, but it was by a very different kind of power.”

“He promised to give me my wand back,” Albus replied in a whisper. “The wand that had been taken from me and that I could only see again in the hands of an alpha.”

“But still, I find it hard to believe you truly thought Vogel would do all this out of pure kindness, don’t you?”

And as if to answer that question, the Vogel from Albus’s memory intervened:

"I just want a chance. A single chance to show you that I'm worthy of you! I want you to allow yourself to trust me and be mine one day.

“Anton...” Albus repeated what he had said in the past, but this time, knowing full well what Vogel would do to him in the future, there was nothing but pure resentment in his voice.

“I know I can be your alpha, Albus!” Vogel interrupted him. “All I ask is a chance to prove my worth. And if you decide I'm not the right person, then I'll let you go, I swear!”

“And who could guarantee that Vogel wasn’t lying?” Gellert asked.

And once again, Vogel seemed to answer the question directly.

“I can make a perpetual vow if you wish,” he said. “I can swear that I will let you go if you decide you don't want to stay by my side. What do you think?”

Gellert's lips tightened and his expression became so dark that Albus thought he might point his wand at a mere memory, but he controlled himself.

“Vogel knew you wouldn't be able to leave. And he took advantage of your most vulnerable moment,” Gellert concluded. “Now I understand."

“I... was a fool,” Albus lamented. “Sorely tempted...”

“Magic really is everything to you, isn't it?” Gellert interrupted him, but his tone made it clear that he didn't even need an answer. “More important than anything else."

Albus closed his eyes. Until that moment, he would not have hesitated to answer that Gellert was right, that magic was more important to him than anything else, than anyone else, but now... he wasn't so sure.

When Albus opened his eyes, Vogel and the omega's palace had disappeared, and only Gellert remained, sitting in front of him on the porch of the house where the two were hiding from Vogel. The omega felt something slide down his face and, running his fingers over it, discovered a tear.

“You know this is exactly what you shouldn't do, don't you?” Gellert asked softly. “Instead of resisting my spell and keeping your memories locked away, all you've done is throw open the doors to your mind.”

“I know...” Albus admitted, feeling more fragile than ever. “But I... I... couldn't help it.” And after wiping away a few more tears that insisted on rolling down his face, he confessed, “This is... much harder than I imagined.”

Gellert let out a long sigh.

“No one was expecting such a quick victory,” he said. “We can try again...” And seeing Albus's tired face, he added, “tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

“Remember, Albus,” Gellert said to him the next morning. “My job here is to provoke you; to try to bring Vogel to the surface of your mind. Yours is to resist and stop those memories from taking over.”

Albus just nodded, feeling, to his own surprise, quite insecure. He considered himself very good at Occlumency, but the memories of the previous day had left him so shaken that he completely forgot what he was doing there.

“I didn’t even start trying,” Albus confessed. “I simply forgot my goals and let myself get caught up in the memories.”

“Natural. It was only your first attempt,” Gellert said lightly. “Today will be better.”

Albus tried not to laugh at himself, thinking it could hardly be worse than the day before. He placed both hands on his face and took a slow, deep breath.

“I’m lost...” he confessed. “So lost... I don’t even know where to begin.”

Thoughtfully, Gellert crushed an insect that had crawled onto his thigh and only then put his wand aside.

“I just remembered something I read some time ago... it might be useful to you,” he finally suggested, drawing Albus’s attentive gaze. “What do you think about trying to rebuild your mind using false memories?”

“False memories?” Albus's brow furrowed at the idea.

“Yes... as if you were cutting out the unwanted parts of your memories and replacing them with new ones.”

Albus considered the question for a few seconds before finally asking, “But... what kind of false memories should I use?”

“You’ll have to figure that out for yourself,” Gellert replied. “But the new memory needs to be strong enough to erase Vogel and weaken the curse.”

Albus stared at Gellert for a few seconds, distracted by his beauty; a gentle breeze toyed with the alpha’s golden curls, making him even more charming. And then a brilliant idea struck his mind.

“I’m ready,” he said, closing his eyes. “Let’s go.”

Gellert nodded, picked up his wand again, and after a few moments of concentration, pointed it at the omega’s forehead and cast the spell:

“Legilimency.”

Albus opened his mind, allowing Gellert's magic to enter, and in the next second, he found himself back in Godric's Hollow, standing in front of the door of his old house. But unlike last time, Albus was now prepared for what he would find when he turned the doorknob. And so it was with confidence that he crossed the hallway toward the dimly lit living room, as he heard someone say:

“There's food on the stove. Your brother left it for you. I hope you're hungry, because it doesn't look very appetizing.”

Everything was exactly the same as it had been so many years ago, at least until Albus reached the living room. This time, it wasn't Vogel waiting for him, but someone else, with a much more powerful yet pleasant voice.

“Your aunt told me about you,” Albus said when he saw him sitting in the same place that had been occupied by Vogel before.

A smile appeared on Gellert Grindelwald's lips.

“I'm sure she told you the best things about me,” he said, without the slightest hint of modesty. “That old woman loves me.”

“She was very generous with her praise, I must admit,” Albus replied, returning Gellert's confident smile. “No offense, but I did doubt her judgment a little.”

“Well, now you have the opportunity to see that Auntie was always right,” Gellert replied.

Albus laughed. At this point, he didn't even remember that Vogel had ever set foot in that house; it was as if he had never existed.

“I'm still not completely convinced…” Albus joked, but immediately his relaxed expression grew much darker as he remembered what Vogel had told him about Bathilda. “Is what Anton told me true? I mean… I know you wouldn't do anything to her, but… is she really…?”

Gellert's expression became thoughtful.

“You know that my dear aunt is older than the pyramids, so old that no one ever knows whether she’ll live to see the next day, but the last time I checked, she seemed to be in very good health…”

“So Anton really did lie…” Albus concluded thoughtfully. “Funny… as long as the contents of Madame Bathilda's letters were convenient for him, I received every single one of them. But of course, at some point, something changed…”

“My aunt naturally knew about the curse Vogel used against you. And I have no doubt that she suspected something, perhaps even tried to warn you.”

Albus let out a sigh.

“But now, what really matters is knowing that she remains steady and strong.”

“Like the pyramids,” Gellert chuckled. “A pity, though, that you let your guard down and allowed yourself to remember Vogel just when we were trying to avoid that.”

Albus opened his mouth in surprise upon hearing this and realizing that, somehow, he had failed once again.

“You're right,” he acknowledged. “I didn't even notice…”

“At least the bastard isn't sitting next to me anymore,” Gellert said with a shrug.

“I promise I'll be more attentive from now on,” Albus assured him.

Gellert nodded, and the scene around them became increasingly blurred until it disappeared and was replaced by another scene that Albus had experienced alongside Vogel, this time at the Abode of the Qilin. Just like the day before, Gellert was sprawled on the throne intended for the alpha, and Albus was standing in the same place he had been before, in front of him.

There was no sign of Vogel.

“Please have a seat,” Gellert invited, pointing to the omega's throne.

Albus hesitated for a few seconds, but finally obeyed; uncomfortable, he sat right in the corner of the chair, his back straight and his palms in his lap.

“You have good manners!” Gellert praised sarcastically.

“And you seem a little too comfortable,” Albus retorted.

Gellert sprawled out even more, letting out a relaxed sigh.

“It's just a chair that's a little more sophisticated than the others,” he said with a sneer as he poked one of the stones embedded in the throne with his index finger. “How can you remember that this stone is darker than the others?”

“Discrepancies always attract more attention.”

“Impressive…” Gellert commented distractedly, then added, “But I'm curious… why did you choose to use me to replace your memories?”

A difficult question to answer.

“It's easier this way. After all, you're already in my head.”

“I'm not criticising you; on the contrary, I found the solution quite ingenious,” Gellert praised. “Not to mention that I will certainly yield much more pleasant memories, the kind really worth keeping.”

Albus smiled at the alpha's lack of modesty, and once again, the entire scene changed, transforming the throne room into a luxurious hotel room.

Gellert whistled loudly as he looked around and realized the drastic change in Albus's appearance. Instead of the simple clothes he wore in Godric's Hollow, he was now dressed in sumptuous blue robes. Frowning, the alpha approached the huge bouquet of red roses that adorned the dresser and noticed the card signed by Vogel carefully tucked between the leaves.

“Apparently, you preferred to leave some memories behind,” Gellert commented thoughtfully, noticing that a wedding ring now sparkled on Albus’s left ring finger.

The omega's mouth turned into a thin line. Gellert's words had disturbed his concentration, and the memory of Vogel flooded back the moment he heard that comment.

“Some selection is necessary,” he explained. “It would take us years to revisit every memory.”

Gellert began plucking the petals from one of the most beautiful roses in the bouquet.

“I may be wrong, but shouldn't your selection include the most... striking moments?”

“Well... yes, but...” Albus hesitated. “Not now.”

Gellert finally finished plucking the petals from the rose and moved on to the next one.

“Do you really think it's a good idea to leave these moments aside?” he asked. “I'm referring to the wedding, of course.”

Albus took a deep breath, overcome with anguish. For a million reasons, he didn't want to revisit his most intense memories with Vogel, let alone alongside Gellert. It was foolish, he knew, but it felt like betrayal.

Whether it was Vogel or Gellert, he couldn't say.

“I don't think... I'm ready yet,” he finally replied, and Gellert let out a sigh.

“All right,” the alpha conceded. “But I must remind you that these are precisely the most dangerous moments. And if you don't face them...”

“Sooner or later they'll come back to haunt me, I know,” Albus admitted in a whisper. “But it's still... difficult.”

Gellert crushed the rest of the rose slowly, looking thoughtful for a few seconds.

“All right, we don't have to face these memories now if you don't want to.”

Albus smiled in gratitude, and from then on, the alpha and the omega relived countless moments together that Vogel had been a part of in the past. A dinner where, instead of hearing that he could no longer leave the house for his own safety, Albus listened to Gellert's account of a heated debate between two luminaries of Potions about the need to make two cross-cuts in the teak seed before adding it to the post-Apparition nausea potion compound. Instead of Vogel's countless excuses for not retrieving his wand, Gellert and Albus now created spells together. They talked and laughed endlessly during the long winter nights, when Albus had previously sat silently, trapped within himself, just waiting for the next order, under Anton Vogel's watchful eye.

Instead of endless hours lost in Vogel's darkness, Albus found the right path under the light of Gellert's magic. And with each altered memory, the blood curse grew a little weaker, and Vogel gradually disappeared.

That was until the moment Albus decided to evoke the memory of a certain time when Vogel had taken him to a party hosted by one of the richest alphas in the city, in his early days in Berlin. Elegantly dressed in a well-tailored dinner jacket, Gellert entered the huge hall arm in arm with Albus, just as Vogel had done so many years ago, attracting dozens of glances to his silver wizard robes, whose jewels were almost as bright and flashy as his red hair.

“What a luxurious place!” Gellert remarked as he glimpsed the huge hall, all decorated to welcome the richest and most influential wizards in Germany.

Albus didn't seem so impressed.

“Some occasions require alphas to flaunt their most valuable possessions,” he commented grimly. “Better clothes, better jewellery, and, of course...”

“...better omegas,” Gellert guessed, understanding why Vogel had been willing to take the risk, parading around with his greatest treasure in tow.

“Precisely,” Albus confirmed as he politely declined a glass of champagne offered by a waiter in very white gloves.

“This place reminds me of the times my parents forced me to attend parties very similar to this one,” Gellert commented as the two descended the long carpeted staircase that led to the mirrored hall where most of the guests were gathered; some eating and drinking, others talking and laughing loudly, others dancing to the sound of an orchestra of enchanted instruments conducted by a single wizard's wand.

“I can see from your expression how happy these parties made you,” Albus observed, noticing Gellert's very serious expression.

“Bored would be a more appropriate word to describe my feelings,” the alpha commented with a tiny grimace. “Especially since this type of event is usually attended by people who are not very pleasant.”

“Not such a kind way to describe your wealthier and more important compatriots,” Albus observed, with an amused smile.

An old, bald alpha kept his eyes fixed on Albus for much longer than would be acceptable as the two descended the stairs, and, seemingly unconcerned that they were in a memory, Gellert discreetly bared his fangs at him as a threat.

“I'm not wrong, am I?” the alpha asked, in a suddenly bad mood.

“I'm afraid not,” Albus found himself forced to admit. “And you'd better get ready, because this party is going to be especially tedious.”

Gellert shook his head when he heard that.

“I'm absolutely certain that this one will be much better than all the other parties I've ever been to.”

“Well, if I don't see a glimmer of good old hope shining in this poor bitter soul!” Albus commented, with an amused smile.

“Hopeful, me?” Gellert asked. “Never!”

“Oh, no? And may I ask what is so different about this party? Because to me it seems as terrible as any other.”

Gellert stared at Albus for a few seconds before replying:

“Drinks served in larger glasses.”

Albus laughed, but when the two finally made their way into the main hall, the smile faded. As he took a long look at the guests scattered around the hall, Albus's mind slipped for a second into the real memory of the long and tedious night he had spent with Anton, listening to all sorts of nonsense, flattery, and jokes in very bad taste, most of them about omegas.

“Shall we dance?” Gellert suggested, noticing that a shadow in the exact shape of Vogel had appeared right next to them, as if at any moment it might grab Albus by the arm and drag him away.

“Dance?” Albus asked, surprised and at the same time delighted by the invitation. “Why not?”

And Anton Vogel's shadow evaporated into thin air.

Gellert then smiled, satisfied, and, gently taking Albus by the arm, led him to the dance floor with the enthusiasm typical of youth. But the moment the alpha wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him closer, Albus immediately felt that accepting that invitation might not have been such a good idea. The alpha’s proximity, the confidence with which he led him across the dance floor, and, above all, his stunning beauty made it difficult to keep his thoughts under control.

“You’re a good dancer,” Albus said, trying to distract himself somehow as he was gently led.

“I had a few lessons when I was younger,” Gellert explained, his expression making it clear that this was yet another unpleasant imposition from his parents. “But you're not bad either. How did you learn?”

“I'm a natural,” Albus joked.

“I'm not sure I believe that,” Gellert replied, in a different, almost possessive tone. “From the way people look at you, I bet you were very popular at school dances.”

Albus blinked, taken aback by the compliment.

“I was never sought after,” he explained. “And people only look at me that way now because I'm married to the Mugwump.”

“Or because you're too young and handsome for the Mugwump,” Gellert quickly suggested, with acid in his voice.

A smile appeared on Albus's lips when he heard that compliment, but it quickly faded when Gellert adjusted the scarf that hid his neck, causing the omega to take a deep breath and struggle to keep his focus and not reveal his innermost feelings.

“If I were really with you at this party,” Albus commented softly, “I guarantee that all eyes would be on you and not on me!”

It was Gellert's turn to smile immodestly at the compliment, showing his long canines, which made Albus simply lose control.

“Because you’re the most beautiful alpha I’ve ever seen,” was the thought Albus let slip, following on from what he had just said.

Gellert's smile faded.

Albus thought he would die of embarrassment. For a second, he wished the ground would open up beneath his feet and pull him away from this awkward situation.

“I think we'd better stop for now,” the alpha recommended cautiously, realizing that Albus had lost control of his own thoughts, even if only for a second.

He should have given in, should have turned off his mind and allowed himself a few hours of rest; but he didn't want to face Gellert in the real world after what had just happened. At least not now.

“I'm fine,” Albus said, avoiding the alpha's searching gaze. “I think I can hold out a little longer.” And when Gellert seemed indecisive, he added, “Just one more memory.”

Gellert looked at Albus suspiciously for a few seconds, but not wanting to press the point, he finally gave in.

“One last memory,” he warned. “And then we'll stop to rest for a few hours.”

“Okay,” Albus hastened to agree.

And then the whole scene dissolved, transforming the huge, luxurious ballroom into a place familiar to Gellert: the room Albus used to occupy while he was with Vogel.

“Albus…” Gellert called out as he looked through the open window and noticed the full moon shining in the sky. “You don’t…”

But he was interrupted by the sound of a door slamming, and when he turned towards the noise, he realised that Vogel had just entered the room.

Bad sign.

Following Vogel's gaze, he found Albus sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing a shiny dark blue silk robe. And even though it was a memory, just by looking at him, Gellert knew instantly that the omega was in full heat.

“Albus, you’re too tired; your Occlumency has failed,” Gellert stated the obvious. “We’d better go back…”

But the omega didn't seem to be listening, too focused on his husband, who was now slowly approaching the bed.

“Anton… please…” the omega pleaded when he saw Vogel standing a few steps away from the bed.

Gellert thought he would be forced to witness intimate moments between an alpha and an omega in heat, but to his surprise, instead of supporting Albus in that delicate moment, Vogel pointed his wand at him and muttered:

“Imperio.”

Under the effect of heat and also the blood curse that made him more and more submissive to an alpha who was not his own, Albus heard Vogel's command repeating incessantly in his mind:

“Bow down and offer your neck to your alpha!”

“But I haven't found my alpha yet,” Albus's mind still resisted, contradicting Vogel's order, albeit with effort.

“You've already found your alpha!” Vogel insisted gently. “The same alpha you bonded with through the ties of marriage. Your alpha, Albus, you must bow down before your alpha!”

Gellert could even feel Albus's immense desire to simply agree with that gentle voice, to let himself be enveloped and submit to what it commanded.

But he couldn't do that. Even though every fibre of his being told him to obey, Anton was not his alpha.

“I… I can't!” Albus whimpered, mortified. “I can't!”

Vogel didn't give up.

Open-mouthed, Gellert watched as Vogel pointed his wand at Albus once more, almost growling the command for the second Unforgivable Curse.

“Crucio!”

And the omega collapsed backwards in the same second, curling up on the bed; it seemed as if every muscle in his body were contracting and burning at once, and all his bones were crumbling in unbearable pain.

“Only you can make this pain stop…” Vogel suggested softly as he watched Albus writhe. The alpha then knelt on the bed and began to stroke the omega's hair with a gentleness incompatible with the pain he himself had caused. “A single movement from you… and it's all over.” And Vogel's fingers moved down to the omega's neck. “You just need to tilt your neck… just a little…”

“Albus!” Gellert tried to intervene to stop that horror, without success; the omega clearly couldn't hear him.

Powerless in the face of that terrible memory, Gellert stood watching the scene, stunned; anyone looking at Vogel at that moment would never have imagined that he himself had cast the Cruciatus Curse. His gaze seemed overly concerned, gentle, even tender. He embraced Albus like an alpha willing to do anything to protect his omega.

But still…

“I… I can't!” Albus whimpered, still struggling in Vogel's arms.

Only then did Vogel's expression finally change.

“BOW DOWN!” Vogel growled, furious enough to use his alpha voice and make Albus scream, covering his ears, even more lost and desperate in that true hell of pain.

“Stop… stop, please!” Albus begged, struggling in Vogel's arms as every nerve in his body exploded with pain.

“Albus!” Gellert called once more, trying to bring him back, but the omega's mind was hopelessly trapped in that memory and couldn't escape or be rescued.

“No... no!” Albus moaned, curling up on the bed.

Gellert then found himself with no choice but to try to forcibly sever the connection, and even without Albus's help, he gathered all his magic into a single spell:

“Finite!” he shouted at the top of his lungs.

A tear of blood slid down his blind eye, but Gellert did not give up. Determined, he pressed on, giving it his all, until he finally felt the memory break, pulling them both back to reality with a jolt.

Albus’s eyes widened, and he gasped for air as if he hadn’t taken a breath in all that time. Gellert had to hold him up to keep him from falling back.

“Albus!” Gellert called again, holding him tightly against his chest. “It’s over, Albus! It’s over!”

Stunned and very pale, Albus cried like a child. Gellert wrapped his arms around him, making him moan in terror, as if he were once again being embraced by Vogel.

“Please, no!” he begged, too weak even to react. “No...”

“He’s not here anymore...” Gellert whispered in the omega’s ear, unable to believe the softness of his own voice. “You’re safe now.”

And, as Albus still couldn’t calm down, he took a deep breath and began to stroke the omega’s neck as delicately as he could, in an attempt to soothe him by stimulating that sensitive area.

The effect was immediate. Albus gradually relaxed, his breathing slowing down until his mind fully recovered from the shock. It took a little longer for the omega to finally realize that he was back in reality.

“Gellert?” Albus asked softly, still dazed.

“It’s okay,” Gellert assured him, without stopping the gentle movement of his hand on the omega’s neck. “I’m here with you.”

Albus let out a long sigh, having completely surrendered to that caress, and extended his trembling fingers toward Gellert’s face, wiping away the trail of blood that had stained the alpha’s pale skin.

It would be so good if he could smell Gellert! No matter how bad it might be, surely that alpha’s pheromones would make him forget the smell of Vogel that now seemed embedded in his own skin!

“It looks like I failed again...” Albus admitted, his voice trembling.

“You shouldn’t have let things get to this point,” Gellert scolded him.

“I never... I never thought this would happen...” Albus’s eyes filled with tears once again. “I didn’t even remember!”

“An alpha must always protect his omega,” Gellert said grimly after a few moments of silence. “Never hurt him like he hurt you.”

“I was never his omega,” Albus replied softly.

“Still, what Vogel did to you is more than a crime; it’s also a sin!” Gellert growled. “But I bet he tried to erase your memory after he did what he did.”

“And the memories ended up coming back right now,” Albus added. “An unwanted effect of our attempt to alter so many memories at once...”

“Come... I’ll take you to bed,” Gellert offered, putting an end to the subject. “You need to rest.”

Albus didn’t want to move from there. He didn’t want Gellert to take his fingers away from his neck. Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he couldn’t bear to be alone again.

“Gellert...” he pleaded once more. “Please...”

But Gellert took his fingers away before he could even finish the sentence.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay,” the alpha reassured him as if he could read his thoughts, lifting Albus effortlessly and carrying him inside the house. Carefully, he laid him on the bed and covered his body with a very simple blanket, nothing like the soft, heavy duvets available at Vogel’s mansion.

But never before had Albus felt so warm.

The omega took a deep breath and, summoning his courage, gently took Gellert’s hand and placed it back on his neck, silently begging him with his eyes to keep it there. And only when the alpha agreed to stay did the omega allow himself to close his eyes, trusting that as long as Gellert was by his side, he would be protected.