The next week was by far the happiest of my life. Albus and I spent every waking moment together, and as many sleeping moments as my Aunt Bathilda would allow. The nights I didn't stay with Albus, we stayed up late, writing each other messages and plotting how to achieve a greater good. We debated whether it was more moral to save the most amount of people or to save the most important people. Long after the devil had gone to bed, we discussed the worth of a human life, and whether a muggle life was worth less than a wizard's life. Although Albus and I agreed that a peaceful takeover with as little loss of life as possible would be ideal, I was always more open to the idea of muggles as collateral damage than he was. He thought that we should go to great lengths to avoid harming muggles, while I saw their destruction as unfortunate but ultimately necessary for some of them. Nevertheless, our debates stayed academic and cordial, and we agreed, mostly, when it came to philosophy.

He was so intoxicating. Albus was my heroin and I never wanted anything more than I wanted him. The way he smelled, the way he held me, the way he looked. I couldn't get enough of him. And he couldn't get enough of the laughing sandy-haired boy who stole him away from his siblings every morning. Albus started to spend more time with me, leaving Ariana under the care of Aberforth so that we could read, debate and fuck. Aberforth began to hate me more than he had before. He resented me for taking his brother away. He resented me, I think, because he thought I made Albus gay. He was always an odd boy. Albus and I began to spend more time at the house, to appease Aberforth and keep Ariana company.

The first time I saw Ariana lose control was a Sunday. Aberforth said that he was going to church, but really he needed a break from Albus and I, and watching Ariana. Albus, Ariana and I were playing a game of exploding snap, which was fairly usual for us. Ariana loved the game, giggling every time a card exploded. That day, though, she was on edge, as if without Aberforth her magic was a little more free.

"Al?" she asked sweetly. She was the only one who could get away with calling him Al.

"Yes, Ariana?"

"What does it feel like to die?"

Albus and I exchanged glances, and I shrugged, entirely unable to deal with this side of parenthood.

"What do you think it feels like?" he asked.

"I think it must be very painful. The people who whisper in my head scream sometimes. Mother screamed when she was dying. Aberforth says it doesn't hurt them, but I think it does." Albus looked shaken.

"Ari, what happened to mother wasn't your-"

"Stop saying that!" Ariana said suddenly, standing up and inadvertently levitating the cards. "It is my fault. I did it.. I made her die. I-ARGH!"

The cards fell to the ground, exploding loudly, which set her off. The girl began to scream an inhuman scream, and blue tendrils of plasma flew around her, lifting her off of the ground. Ariana lifted one arm parallel to the ground with her palm open, pointed straight at Albus, and I knocked him to the ground just before a white ball of light hurtled into the place he had been sitting, leaving a scorch mark.

"Ariana," Albus began in a calm voice. "Ariana remember who you are. You can control this. Ariana Dumbledore, come down here. We'll get some lemonade."

Ariana's eyes glowed a little from the magic trapped inside her. I watched helplessly as the adorable little girl I had gotten to know suddenly became something far beyond our help. Albus was right. Ariana was entirely mad. In that moment, holding onto Albus in sad fascination, all I wanted was to find a way for this girl to live a normal life. It would be easier to lock her away in an institution and forget about her, like many wizarding families did when there were no solutions. But if the wizarding community was FORCED to find solutions, Ariana could be free. Albus could be free.

Both of us stood to get closer to Ariana, knowing that magic would be less than worthless right now. He grabbed her hand, wincing as if it burned him, and I stroked her arm gently. We spoke in soothing tones, touching her gently, until she collapsed and began to cry, terrified. Albus rocked her back and forth as she came back into reality, and her sobs quieted as she fell asleep. She looked so small lying there in his arms, and so young. So much younger than fourteen. My heart broke a little.

Albus turned to look at me. "I can't leave her. I can't go with you and leave her here. They'll take her away."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "We won't leave her. We'll take her with us. We can take care of her, together. We brought her down today."

Albus skeptically looked at me. "How?"

"I don't know. We'll find a way. We won't abandon her when she is the face of the cause we're trying to champion."

He gave me a sad, worn out smile. "If you went to Hogwarts, you definitely would have been a Gryffindor."

"A what?"

"Nevermind. I need to get her to bed. I'll be back."

Of course, Aberforth made his appearance right after Albus left the room. I nodded at him politely, trying to keep the scorn from my face and failing miserably. He surveyed the damage done to the room, and his permanent scowl deepened.

"Ariana had an episode."

"Yes," I replied. "Albus and I talked her down from it. She's sleeping now."

"How did you upset her?" he accused, eyebrows so low they obscured his eyes.

"I didn't. She upset herself. She was worried about if dying hurt."

"What were you talking about that made her think about dying?"

I threw up my hands in exasperation. "Nothing! I didn't do anything, you stupid boy. Your sister is mentally ill and had an episode where she couldn't control her magic or her body. These episodes can be triggered or random. I've studied them far more than you have."

"I've lived with her for far longer than you have," Aberforth growled in a low voice. "And I know that since you've been here her episodes have been getting worse and more frequent."

My wand was in my hand, and my vision was red. "Did you ever think that could be because she killed her mother in a rage? And everyone told her it was not her fault? And no one talked about it with her? How is she supposed to understand what happened, let alone process it, if you all keep pretending that nothing happened? She isn't stupid. In fact she is quite a bit smarter than you are."

Suddenly, his hand reached for his pocket and I reacted without thinking.

"Tarantallegra!" I cried, and Aberforth was suddenly forced into dancing uncontrollably. Expelliarmus. The second charm was cast nonverbally, once I had regained enough control to do so. "Listen here, brat. Your brother has done more for you than you will ever be able to comprehend. He and I are going to do more for the world in a year than you could in an entire lifetime. We are going to find a cure for Ariana, whether you help us or not, but it would be a lot easier without you constantly fighting every single thing we do."

I released him from the spell with a flick of my wand, as Albus walked back into the room, blue eyes wide.

"I thought I heard fighting. Are you alright?"

Aberforth nodded, red faced, and retreated to his room, slamming the door behind him.

"I told him what happened with Ariana," I explained. "He got upset."

"Ah," Albus said quietly, pushing his glasses back on his nose. "He gets defensive about Ariana. He knows her better than anyone."

I grunted, but fell onto the couch with Albus anyways.

"Do you think it hurts to die?" he asked softly.

"I don't know," I said hopelessly. "And I don't want to find out. If we find the ressurection stone we could ask."

"We could," he said thoughtfully, pulling me into a kiss as he fell into me, pushing me down into the couch, desperate for any kind of distraction he could find. He found it slowly in my breath, my hands, my body, pushing himself into me and letting me carry his worries as we became one.