Anger reflexively tugged at Gellert's stomach when Albus spoke--but he was quickly suppressing it. Because he'd had a lot of time to think, in the week or so since Albus had come in to be fitted for his new clothing. Even if Albus did know about the Hallows, that did not necessarily imply a great deal of familiarity. Oh, Gellert did not doubt that the two of them had been closer than Gellert had allowed himself to become to any of Albus's predecessors, but Albus was hardly privy to every aspect of Gellert's psyche. And Gellert may have been only fifteen--sixteen, now, he mentally corrected himself--but he had always been so very much more advanced than other children his age, in all subjects. Perhaps Albus was simply...unaware.
So he forced himself to let the comment pass unchallenged. For the most part, at least. Gellert pushed off the desk to stand upright, refocusing his attention on what he really thought to be the more salient matter at hand--redefining Albus Dumbledore.
He took a step closer to where Albus stood, letting his hands slip casually into his pockets, a comfortable smile falling to his lips. "I'm not so terribly young," he said. Another step, slowly cutting away the distance that separated them. "You are hardly very old yourself. I'd guess, what? Twenty, twenty-one?"