Aberforth Ignatius Abraxas Dumbledore (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} aberant) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} lockewood,@ 2010-03-03 00:06:00 |
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What: Gellert seeks retribution for Aberforth's behaviour after the duel.
When: Tuesday, March 2
Where: Aberforth's cottage.
Rating: hard PG-13
Status: Complete
Gellert never intended to let much time pass between the aftermath of his duel with Albus and the consequences that he would inflict upon Aberforth for his interference. He waited until Albus was required once more to go into work before setting off down Quills St. to Aberforth's designated cottage, too high off anticipation to bother with a cloak. He did not intend to be quite as creative this time as he had in the jail. Aberforth was already broken, at his core--he had merely had a lapse in judgment. All he needed was a reminder of his place. Gellert had a few ideas of things he wanted to mention, though. Comments, to reassure Aberforth of the exact nature of this situation.
He was on Aberforth's front step in minutes, knocking at the door and then waiting, arms hanging still at his sides, fingers touching the handle of the Elder Wand in case Aberforth should try to fend him off.
Happy to have a day off, Aberforth had spent a better part of his morning puttering around his cottage. He needed to putter around. If he remained in bed like he wanted to, his mind would wander and when it did it never settled on anything good. Everything he let himself dwell on was entirely negative. Which was why, each and every morning, he dragged himself out of bed and went through his daily routine. Shower, breakfast, and- depending on the day- he would either go to work, read, or maybe pay Ariana a visit. He lived by his routine. It gave him some semblance of control, of normality.
When there was a knock on the door, he was in the middle of reading a sentence in his book but, figuring it was Ariana, he splayed it open on his couch in favor of answering the door. He didn't even pause to think that it might be someone else, let alone Gellert. "I thought I told you-" he began, expecting it to be his sister as the door opened all the way to reveal .. Gellert. Aberforth's face fell, unsure what to make of the situation. He was angry and scared. Was Albus with him? "What do you want?" he asked cautiously.
Gellert's expression was immutable, blank, cold. "I think you know," he said. He adjusted his hand slightly so that Aberforth could see just a glimpse of the Wand--a promise, and a threat. And then he let his shirt fall to cover it once more.
He could still see some residual anger in Aberforth's gaze. That would not be there for long.
He took a step forward, leaning against the frame of the door, arching an eyebrow. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"
When he stepped forward, Aberforth's grip on the door tightened, threatening to close it. He had seen his wand, he knew what he wanted. Honestly, he had expected it as soon as he had landed a punch the other night. But he had hurt Albus and Aberforth hadn't even paused to think about the consequences. "Fuck off." he managed to grind out, he wanted to ask if Albus was okay but without him there his resolve was dwindling.
Gellert's face--Gellert's smile--were perfectly congenial as he spoke. "Let me in, Aberforth, or the next time Albus gets hurt, it won't be consensual."
He started tapping his thumb against the doorframe, in the same one-two-three-four beat he had used in prison and again when Aberforth had visited his brother--the beat with which he knew he had conditioned Aberforth to feel a wave of immediate terror.
And it worked. If the threat to his brother's life wasn't enough, the tapping was. He shrank at the noise, fingers uncurling from his hold on the door as he looked at Gellert. What if Tracey came home? What if Ariana came over? He couldn't possibly be planning on doing anything here. That was stupid, unwise- not to mention, this was the only place Aberforth felt safe aside from his time spent with Albus. (Though, he was usually accompanied by Gellert so that sense of safety was counteracted). Stepping back, he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried not to panic. "My room mate should be getting home soon." he lied, unsure of where Tracey was or when she'd return.
"It hardly matters if she is here or not. No one is going to be able to hear us. No one is going to be able to see us. I will make sure of that." Gellert brushed past him into the house, the door slamming shut and locking itself behind him with the twitch of his finger. He glanced around, taking in the decor, the same striking similarities that this cottage had to all the others in the village. Trailing his fingers along the wall, Gellert sauntered toward the hallway that led to the private chambers, glancing over his shoulder at Aberforth. "Which room is yours?"
Aberforth winced at the sound of the door slamming shut, remaining frozen to the spot as he tried to will this all away. He couldn't possibly be planning to do what he had done again- right? Aberforth swallowed the lump in his throat, glancing down at his feet as he heard Gellert moving around, took in what he was saying, and shuddered. Turning, he had the strong urge to run away. To open the door and fling himself outside but Gellert had locked it- had used his wand. It was probably hopeless. He was hopeless.
He really wished Gellert would just leave. He didn't want this image of him in his house. He had felt safe here after everything had happened and now he was even taking that away from him. He especially didn't want him in his room. Standing behind Gellert, he nodded curtly towards the door on the right that was his quarters. His room wasn't much. It was neat since he had plenty of time to keep up with it. He had a small shelf lined with books, but aside from that there was nothing else personal. He was sort of glad for that even though Gellert was intruding on his safe haven, at least he wouldn't have to have too many reminders.
Gellert took his time in Aberforth's room, examining the books on the shelves, pulling a couple out and flipping through their pages before tossing them carelessly on the floor. All Muggle titles. Novels. Gellert could confess to enjoying some non-wizarding books--Sherlock Holmes, for one--but Aberforth's collection was seemingly devoid of variety.
"I never realised what exceedingly poor taste you have," he said, glancing at a copy of Canterbury Tales and then discarding it. "All novels, and all Muggle. You must get bored."
He turned around, crossing his arms over his chest and fixing his gaze on Aberforth once more. Without even needing his wand, the bedroom door fell shut. Gellert cocked his head to one side, gaze soft--he was enjoying this. "I hope you are satisfied, after the other day. I hope you think it was worth it."
Aberforth followed him into his room, folding his arms over his chest and watching as his books were thrown carelessly on the floor. He chose not to reply as Gellert commented on his taste in literature, waiting for the inevitable and ah- yes- there it was. Flinching as the door slammed shut, he looked down at the floor, taking in Gellert's words and raising his head. "Don't touch my brother." he said, voice as stern as he could make it. "You promised." he hissed, "and he was hurt." he said, swallowing as he stood there, resolute in his words though he did look paler and- if one were to look very closely- they would realize he was shaking slightly.
"Yes, but not badly," Gellert said, his voice bland and indifferent. He unfolded his arms, reaching to draw his wand. A few silent spells enveloped the room--Imperturbable charms. Wards to keep anyone who might come by the house far, far away. The curtains on Aberforth's bedroom window drew themselves closed. "Really," he continued, walking slowly toward Aberforth, caressing the length of his wand, "it could have been much worse. What he suffered was nothing compared to what you suffered. What you are about to suffer. And that is my promise--as long as you stay quiet, he will not know the same pain that you have known. And, most importantly, he will stay alive."
Of course Gellert never intended to put Albus into serious harm, and he certainly did not want him dead. Not that he would ever admit as much. "I wonder, Aberforth...if you are aware that we sleep together? He dreams in my arms, every night. Helpless. Vulnerable." He smiled, but his eyes had gone cold.
Aberforth's jaw clenched at Gellert's comment. Not badly? He had barely been able to stand up right. How was that not badly? "Don't do it again." he bit out, feeling himself tense up as Gellert muttered a few spells and drew the curtains. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Aberforth felt himself go cold, trying to numb himself before Gellert could attack but his pounding heart, his sweaty palms, his shortened breaths refused to let him let go.
Looking at him as he spoke about Albus once more, he felt his blood boil, his hands clenched into fists. "You bastard." he hissed, trying to focus on anything other than the thought of Gellert's hands on his brother though the image quickly morphed into Gellert hurting his brother. "I won't tell." he said, voice tight, high strung- terrified. "Don't hurt him." he repeated. "Don't.."
Gellert continued forward until he was standing but a foot from Aberforth. He reached out with his hand that held the Wand, drew the backs of his fingers along Aberforth's cheek. "I will keep my word as long as you keep yours," he said, tone rising in pitch, nearly sing-song, dissolving on the final word into a soft laugh.
He twisted his wrist so that instead of his hand it was the tip of his wand that traced Aberforth's jawline, sliding down his neck to press, hard, into the base of his throat. "Crucio."
Aberforth held his breath as Gellert approached, trying to breathe properly as the other man continued to speak. Closing his eyes as he felt Gellert's fingers brush his face, he resisted the urge to turn away by focusing on the reason he was doing this, his siblings. Because of them he remained silent. Even when Gellert laughed and Aberforth couldn't help but flinch, the sound going right through him. As soon as he felt the wand jab into the base on his throat, he knew what to expect. In another moment, he was writhing in pain, eyes squeezed shut, muscles spasming in pain. He didn't scream just yet though, biting it back as the tears leaked from his eyes. How had he ended up here again?
Gellert kept his wand trained on Aberforth as the man crumpled to the ground, kept the intensity of the curse static, preferring this time to keep Aberforth locked under it for as long as possible. Punctuated, perhaps, with brief rests and then brief periods with the Cruciatus as intense as Gellert could make it. See just how close to the brink Gellert could push his mind.
It was somewhat less enjoyable than before, this torture.; Gellert could not quite understand why. Aberforth was in excruciating pain. Usually seeing him like this, twitching on the floor, would send him into paroxysms of pleasure. Instead he was just cold. Numb. Perhaps, he thought, it was because he was not doing this entirely for the fun of it. It was a job. Payment. Revenge. Because Aberforth had broken his nose and he was still furious about it.
Gellert had done this to him so many times now, Aberforth ought to be used to it but he wasn't. Each and every time he cast this curse on him, it felt more painful than the last. Especially as the waves of pain throbbed in and out, always on the edge of his mind, always on the brink of overwhelming him completely. It was another moment still before he finally let out a pained scream, buckling in and releasing it though it didn't make him feel any better. His body convulsed as the tremors swept through him. He could barely breath. It hurt so much. Fuck. It hurt.
Gellert kept the curse on him, crouching down to bring his face close to Aberforth's--to examine each shift in emotion, each clenching muscle, each pulsing artery bulging from his neck and temples. He wanted to take a knife and carve the Hallows symbol into Aberforth's stomach. He wanted to shave off all his hair. He wanted to make him vomit and then force him to eat it. But this was not the time for that, and he could not afford to leave any lasting marks.
After several minutes had passed Gellert lifted the curse for a moment, well aware of how he needed to split the torture into intervals, keep Aberforth just-sane-enough.
"How do you feel?" he ask, reaching out and turning Aberforth onto his back, watching with detached curiosity the beads of sweat that rolled down his cheeks, mingling with the tears.
If there was one good thing about this curse- it was just that Aberforth found he was in such severe pain that he didn't even notice Gellert crouch down close to him. He didn't notice how avidly the other man was watching him, how his eyes were curiously taking in his every reaction to the pain he was instilling in him. His whole body screamed out. Every nerve ending going off, flashing warning signals to his brain but he couldn't do anything about it because he couldn't even move. He was frozen in a painful scream, his body arcing with each fresh wave of it.
Until, quite suddenly, it was gone leaving Aberforth gasping for air. He could hardly breath as he collapsed on the floor, hissing out in pain as Gellert touched him and rolled him over. His mind was too foggy to realize who it was though and he scrabbled to grasp the hand, holding on to it as he tried to pull air into his lungs. When his mind cleared up though and his eyes settled on Gellert, he let out a cry of disgust. He let go of the hand he had been holding and tried to move away. It hurt too much though and instead of getting anywhere he just let out a pained cry.
Finally--finally--there came that first small burst of pleasure. The way Aberforth clutched at his hand--the way even try to move made him yelp aloud--it finally ignited that fire of amusement in Gellert's chest. That Gellert could still get off on his pain was good for Aberforth, in a way. Gellert had already taken the time to work out a plan for how he could get away with killing Aberforth, if need be, without getting caught. But as long as Aberforth remained entertaining, he was in no immediate life-threatening danger. As long as Gellert could still use him.
"You didn't answer my question," he said almost gently, stroking his hand along Aberforth's arm, feeling tiny muscles jump beneath his touch, little sparks of the Cruciatus still pinging off Aberforth's nerves even though the curse had been lifted.
The curse's lasting effects were still throbbing through Aberforth. He didn't want to be touched by anyone, let alone Gellert, because it hurt far too much. When he felt his hand moving on his arm, he squeezed his eyes shut, feeling a few tears leak out because of it. He didn't know what answer was correct, what answer Gellert wanted to hear. "I-" he tried, sounding pained as he kept his eyes closed tight. "-hurt" it was the truth and it was the only thing he could think of. He didn't want to admit to not being able to move because that would open up another vulnerability though there was no question that Gellert was the one in control at the moment. Taking in a shuddering breath, he tried to shrug Gellert off but instead ending up hissing in pain.
"I know you do," Gellert murmured, brushing a few stray tendrils of hair from Aberforth's face, tucking them behind his ear. "I know."
And he did know, though his knowledge was limited to the vague repercussions he could feel through the connection of the Elder Wand. A dim, disconnected sense of the pain his victim was undergoing. The almost sexual pleasure he got from watching them. Yes, Gellert thought. He understood completely.
The tip of his wand was directed toward Aberforth once more. And this time, when he sent the curse shooting through Aberforth's body, it was with every bit of his power. Every iota of his not inconsiderable ability was directed toward putting Aberforth in the most extreme, the most horrific pain possible. You could kill a man like this, Gellert realised. Easily.
Aberforth shuddered at the feeling of Gellert's hand on his face, tucking his hair behind his ear in what would normally be considered a tender gesture. But it wasn't. Gellert wasn't the tender sort. Sure, he could fake it rather well but Aberforth knew better. He didn't turn away though, fearing the consequences of such an action. He wanted to ask him to stop but his mouth refused to work, his words stuck in his throat. He was silent as he laid there, breathing deep as his mind caught up with him.
He had barely begun to grasp the tendrils of his thoughts before he was sent reeling out of control again though. The wave of pain that him him was much worse and at once, he curled in on himself. It was his body's only course of action to defend itself, to ward off whatever was happening, but it didn't work. His hand scratched at the floor as he let out another pained scream- far more desperate than the last. His body was on fire, it had never been this bad before. Not only because he was already weakened by Gellert's previous attack, but because the full force of Gellert's magic was behind it. And Gellert was a powerful wizard so the pain that came with his casting of it was excruciating. He couldn't think, couldn't breath. All that existed was the pain. He couldn't even remember his own name. He just knew he wanted it to stop. Even if that meant dying because he couldn't stand it. It was too much.
It was like the best, the purest high. The strength of the magic exploding from Gellert's wand had his arm arching of its own accord, forced him into a dueler's posture for balance lest the force of the curse physically knock him over. And with each pulse of power from the tip of his wand Gellert felt his own heart skip a beat. He thought that perhaps it was not just the effects of being under the Cruciatus that could make one mad. The sheer euphoria alone made Gellert's mind spin. The deep violet rush of Dark magic, sparking through his soul, tearing it to shreds only to fit him back together again a moment later, making him perfectly--incredibly--magnificently whole.
Gellert closed his eyes, and the wave of power that crashed over him in that instant made him gasp out loud, his lashes fluttering against his cheek, every inch of his body alive and longing for more. The vibration of Aberforth's pain as it laced the air was exquisite and Gellert made a soft, excited sound, tilting his head back, opening himself up to the wild electricity in the room. It could have been minutes or hours or days before he was able to drag himself up out of that ecstasy, to find enough of a grasp on reality to remember to lift the curse.
And Gellert knew what he looked like now--flushed, breathless, his lips wet and his eyes glazed--but he could hardly be bothered to care. He fell gracelessly to his knees, collapsed over Aberforth's body and pressed his brow into the other man's stomach, his shoulders trembling as he let the last waves of the curse pass through his mind.
Days. Aberforth would contest that the curse had been held for days. Never-ending pain, coursing through him. Wave after wave of excruciating pain making his muscles spasms, his throat raw as he screamed out, cried out, in pain. Everything went blank as his mind was consumed with it, seeing nothing but red as his eyes squeezed shut, trying to block out what was happening but it was impossible. He wasn't aware of anything but the feeling of his body being ripped his apart.
When Gellert finally lifted the curse though, he let out a shuddering gasp, eyes remaining shut as he tried to gather himself but it was impossible. He knew nothing. Not where he was, not who he was, only that the pain was gone- sort of. It was not as intense but it still coursed through his body. His nerve endings still firing off as he let out a pained moan, as his hands uncurling and trying to grasp at something. He felt the weight on his stomach, and he reached out to touch whatever it was, to push it off but when his fingers came in contact with Gellert's hair he paused, trying to figure out what it was. It was soft though, terribly soft, and so he curled his fingers in it as he took in uneven breaths, as his twitching muscles relaxed still crying out in pain.
Some distant voice told Gellert that he ought to stand, ought to get himself under control before Aberforth realised what was going on, but he could not bring himself to listen to it. The soft post-Cruciatus glow was impossible to fight. He could only give into it. Let his hands twist in Aberforth's shirt, choking on each breath that tried to force itself out of his throat, unable to stop shivering but similarly unable to lift his head.
Aberforth could feel everything, his entire body was on fire, hyper aware of everything going on around him though his eyes were still squeezed shut. He wasn't trying to figure out where he was or what had happened, he was only trying breathe. In and out, in and out, his mind repeated the mantra as he pulled in breath after painful breath. He felt Gellert's fingers curling in his shirt and he let out a pained whimper, his own hand curling in Gellert's hair in response, tugging at the locks because he could. After another moment, his eyes blinked open, focusing on the ceiling as he collected himself.
He was lost though, in a haze of such pain that he couldn't properly process anything. His movements were sluggish as his eyes shifted down to the head that was resting against him, spotting the way the man's hand was curled in his shirt. Without much thought behind it, he stroked the tangle of blond curls, unsure of who it was or what had happened. "Wha-" it was a strangled noise, not making much sense as he took in a sharp breath and groaned at the pain it caused. He settled back down, his mind reeling. What the- his hand moved over Gellert's hair for another moment before his mind began putting the pieces together. First he settled on who he was, then where he was, then who the other person lying on him could be. And, once he realized it, his hand stopped, trying to push him away but he didn't have the strength and so he expelled a breath. "Stop" he managed to breathe out, "G'off" he tried, words choked as he felt a rush of fear, anger, and terrible sadness rush over him. He didn't want Gellert near him, let alone resting on him.
Aberforth's words--Aberforth's hands trying to push him away--were all Gellert needed to be dragged back into reality. He forced himself to sit upright, taking in several deep breaths as his body came under his control once more. And then he laughed, pressing down hard on Aberforth's sternum with one hand as each peal of mirth spiraled through his body and from his lips, dissolving in his own amusement.
"You're pathetic," he told Aberforth at last, pushing himself to his feet and slipping his wand up his sleeve. On impulse he drew back and gave Aberforth a sharp, powerful kick in the ribs, putting the full force of his weight into it. "Cowering on the floor. You're nothing more than a dog."
Aberforth cried out as Gellert pressed against him, eyes filling with tears as the sharp pain shot through him once more. Gellert's cold, cruel laughter caused him to wince- to flinch away which brought about another moan from his lips- even that hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn't move without it hurting. He barely even heard Gellert's words as he tried to breathe. It was difficult but he managed until the kick sent him reeling. His eyes squeezed shut as he let out a pained gasp, choking on the air he was desperately trying to choke down. Tears slipped from his eyes as he curled up into a ball, making himself small, protecting himself as best as he could. He didn't respond, couldn't respond, could only focus on breathing and remaining as still as possible.
A small idea wormed itself into Gellert's brain, and once it was there he found it, like most temptations, impossible to ignore. He crouched down at Aberforth's side and gently caressed his shoulder, almost as if comforting him, as if apologising. His hand slipped upward to curl around Aberforth's chin. Gellert had to use the slightest amount of magic to force Aberforth to turn his head to face him, to arch his neck so that their heads were perfectly aligned. The kiss was gentle at first, tender, but it quickly devolved and Gellert tightened his grip on his chin, digging his nails into his skin as he bit Aberforth's lower lip.
The hand on his shoulder was too much because he knew who it was; he knew it was Gellert and he couldn't stand to have him near him, let alone to have his hands on him. It disgusted him beyond belief. He let out a whimper, trying to get him to stop, to just go away but he it didn't do much. His mind was foggy, he could barely think beyond how much pain he was in but at this point he was aware enough to know to try and keep Gellert at bay. "Please" he tried, his side still aching as Gellert caressed his shoulder. He felt the hand on his chin and tried to tuck his head down, tried to worm out of his grip but he was too weak and the bit of magic Gellert used to get him to respond was much too much for Aberforth.
He blinked his eyes open to take in Gellert's face, frightened by what he might find there but he couldn't read the other man's expression in time before he felt his lips press against his. It caught him entirely off guard as he had been expecting more pain instead of tenderness, instead of the gentle brush of Gellert's lips against his own. He didn't respond though and after a moment, he brought a hand up to try to push him away but there was hardly any force behind it because he had been under the Cuciatus for far too long. Feeling the other man get rougher, his nails digging into his chin, he let out a whimper, tears leaking from his eyes as Gellert bit down on his lip. His hand scrabbled at his shoulder, digging his own nails in as he felt the rush of pain. He wanted to throw up, wanted to scream, but he couldn't. He was trapped.
Gellert bit down until he tasted blood--until, at last, it was not his own that smeared his lips. The parallel to the previous night made something in his stomach twinge with pleasure. He drew back after several moments, flicking his tongue out to clean the blood from Aberforth's mouth, though more was welling up in its place within seconds. "I think you would be a good kisser if you only put a little effort into it," Gellert told him lightly, sweeping a hand through his hair before standing up once more. "Unfortunately, Albus is going to be back from work in half an hour, and he will expect me to be waiting for him. I trust that you can clean yourself up."
Eyes shut tight, Aberforth tried desperate to pry him off as he felt him bite down harder. He was terrified now. His mind wasn't up to speed and the pain was once again blocking his thought process. It was a relief when he finally let go but before he could turn away, could nurse he own broken lip, he felt the swipe of Gellert's tongue wash over the wound and shuddered in turn. Sucking the lip into his mouth as soon as he backed off, he blinked his now terrified blue eyes open and peered over at Gellert. Apparently, he had lost the ability to speak since the other man had arrived. He didn't even bother to move, to try and speak, as he sucked at his lip, the blood beginning to make him sick. When he mentioned Albus, Aberforth felt a pang in his chest wondering where his brother was now. It quickly dissolved though as he nodded his head curtly, remaining frozen as he watched Gellert.
Gellert removed the charms and wards from the room and from the house. They were no longer necessary. He paused briefly to dart into Aberforth's bathroom, combing his fingers through his hair and splashing cool water on his face until the curls were no longer so hopelessly tousled and the flush faded from his cheeks.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Aberforth," he called back as he walked down the hall, toward the front door. "I shall be seeing you again soon enough, I am sure."