Author's Note: This collection is drawing to an end! It's been a fun run, and goodness knows I've enjoyed writing all this Grindeldore. :) Thanks to everyone who's read to this point, and thanks to the lovely comments I've gotten along the way. They're what keep me writing. Also, this is horribly, disgustingly fluffy and comes, probably, from my desire to see a sort of "happily awhile after" idea where the world is still OK, for a time, before everything goes to hell again. Prompt: first grandchild.

[1957]

Albus stared at the invitation in his hands, which was what he'd been doing since it had been delivered that morning with the owl post. Johan was getting married, and Albus hadn't even known he'd been dating anyone. That meant he had been hiding it all this time, despite how close they were supposed to be.

But that wasn't even the worst part of it. The thing that bothered Albus the most was the fact that the woman Johan intended to marry was Ariana Dumbledore. He thought it was some sick, cruel joke at first, but who would know enough to send it? Despite the flutter in his stomach and the hard lump in his chest, Albus had to quell his emotions until he had a chance to slip away that evening.

Albus didn't make a habit out of showing up unannounced at the Steins', yet no one seemed the least bit surprised when he stepped out of the fireplace.

"Oh, Albus!" Berta wailed as soon as he emerged, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. Judging by her red, puffy face and smeared makeup, she'd been at it a while already. "Can you believe our little boy is all grown up? He's getting m-m-married!"

"Now, now, Berta," Adolph interrupted, putting his arm around her shoulders. "Albus isn't here to listen to you break down yet again. Johan!"

"Yeah, Vati?" Johan poked his head around the corner. As soon as he saw Albus, he grinned and entered the room. "Papa! I hoped you'd come when you got the invite. You're probably mad I didn't tell you. Are you mad?"

"Of course I'm not mad, though I can't say I'm not more than just a little confused."

"I wanted to tell you, honest I did. When I first met Ari, I asked if she was related to you, but she didn't seem to know you at all. It wasn't until I met her father that I knew for sure, and, well, he forbade me to tell you. And I really wanted him to like me, because I just knew that I'd marry her some day."

"I understand."

Albus forced himself to smile, for Johan's sake, but none of it made any sense. There was only one man he could think of who would name their daughter Ariana, but he had no children. As far as Albus knew, he'd never had any real relationships, and certainly none that had lasted. Well, not unless you counted his goats.

"Wait here just a minute," Johan said, holding up his hands and motioning for Albus to stay put. He disappeared through the doorway back into the kitchen only to return a moment later with a girl on his arm.

From the moment he laid eyes on her, everything made perfect sense to Albus. She had inherited the Dumbledore eyes, and she was the spitting image of her father and aunt. She was small and delicate yet with an air of dignity and quiet ferocity about her. Fair, long hair cascaded down her back, and she carried herself in a way that more resembled floating than walking.

The last woman Aberforth had loved, he had lost because of Albus' recklessness. Albus understood his desire to keep this one to himself. Not because she was born out of wedlock. Not because he was ashamed. It was because he didn't want to give Albus the chance to take away someone else that he cared about, and Albus' heart ached with the realization.

"It's lovely to meet you, Ariana," Albus whispered, planting a kiss on the back of her hand.

It was fitting, he decided as he watched them that night, that a Dumbledore and a Grindelwald should end up together. Albus hoped that life afforded them all the happiness that he had been denied and then some.

...oOo...

[1959]

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. I'm certain you don't take your duties as headmaster lightly, but you can't possibly be considering missing the Sorting!"

Minerva definitely had a quiet dignity about her—until she got indignant. She didn't make a particularly quiet, angry witch, but Albus enjoyed her company just the same, even as she fixed him in those hawkish, blue eyes, hands firmly on her hips.

"Of course not. I'll be Flooing out as soon as the Start-of-Term Feast has finished. I can't say when I'll be back. Not more than a day or two. I assume you can cover me until then?"

Minerva pursed her lips, but her stance softened ever so slightly.

"I suppose you won't tell me what this is about?"

"I wouldn't be leaving if it weren't important, I assure you."

"Very well, then. It doesn't appear I have any say in the matter."

"Thank you, Minerva. You're reliable as ever."

Minerva humphed as she turned to leave, and Albus smiled. He couldn't have a better staff under him, and he was thankful for each one of them. But that wasn't the only thing he had to be thankful for. The owl had just arrived. Ariana had gone into labor. It was going to be a long day as headmaster, and the thought of meeting his first grandchild was the only thing that kept Albus going.

When night finally fell, Albus retired to his office. He was ready for this, or so he told himself. His hands were trembling as he threw the Floo powder in the fire and called out, "Diagon Alley." He Apparated the rest of the way to Germany, which required more and more stops along the way. He wasn't getting any younger, that was for sure.

When Albus arrived at the hospital, he made a beeline for the birthing ward. In the waiting room, Berta and Adolph were passed out in adjoining chairs, leaning against each other. They looked exhausted.

Johan entered a moment later, placing a finger against his lips and motioning for Albus to follow. When they were in the next hallway, he explained, "They finally passed out. I thought they'd never sleep. Mutti's been fawning over the baby all day and making all these plans about what they're going to do together. Vati hasn't really said too much. I think he's still in shock about the whole thing."

They stopped before a glass room, and Johan pointed to a little, pink bundle.

"That's ours. Looks like her mother, doesn't she? Amalia Katrine Grindelwald."

Albus had never been one for babies. Not when his siblings were born, not even when Gellert had approached him with an orphan. True, he could care for them—that part was easy—but they were so fragile, and all they did was lay there and spew any number of nasty things from their orifices.

Even so, Albus was convinced that the baby girl before him was easily the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

...oOo...

Gellert shielded his eyes against the flash of light that engulfed the darkness of his cell. If Fawkes was visiting him, that must mean Johan was now a father. Gellert both loathed and loved, in equal measure, the infrequent updates the phoenix brought him. The world passed by without him, and he missed everything, all the most important moments. Still, he hadn't been forgotten, at least.

"Thank you, Fawkes," he said as he took the parchment from the phoenix's beak and carefully unwrapped it. A picture fell out, floating to the stone, and Gellert bent down to inspect it. They had indeed grown up, even in the two years since the couple got married. A Dumbledore and a Grindelwald. What were the odds?

"A girl," Gellert muttered as he picked the picture up and glanced over the note. "Amalia, huh?"

If they had no other children, that meant both the Grindelwald and Dumbledore lines would, once again, go extinct. Maybe that's for the best, he thought as he sunk into a corner, staring at the picture. The world was changing—for the better, he hoped, although he was smart enough to know that wasn't often the case—and this was now his future. The only one that still meant anything, at least.