To Have Loved and Lost

Hope's anxious nerves dissipated into nothing when she entered Albus' office. She smiled, seeing him in the chair by the hearth. The Grimoire opened in his lap while sipping a cup of tea.

So Albus Dumbledore.

"What did you find?" She asked, walking over to him and leaning against the armrest, looking over his shoulder at the withered pages of markings.

Albus smiled up at her, a crooked little grin. "At least, I believe I've found something." He turned to one of the last pages and touched his finger lightly against the markings. "It may be a name, but I cannot accurately translate it."

Hope looked the section over; most of it seemed like random notes from the book. Referring to different areas with little context. This book had been written for only the person who'd created it, not for others to learn from. "There's a name here," she touched the bottom, "Eh-...Esther née Hagan." She glanced up at him. "Does that name sound familiar to the Wizarding World?"

Slowly shaking his head, he pursed his lips. "No, but I'll look into it. Thank you."

Hope to bit her lip and nodded. Somehow, something felt…off.

"Are you okay?" She finally asked after a moment of hesitation. Hope didn't want to pry, but she couldn't deny it worried her to see him not as playful as usual.

"I am," he nodded, smiling at her, "Just a bit tired. The start of term is always a bit hectic."

She took a deep breath and nodded. "And it has nothing to do with…Newt and I?"

Albus parted his lips to answer and, almost as if he thought better of it, seemed to switch tactics. "Are you happy with him?"

Hope tilted her head to the side and nodded slowly. "Yes. Very happy."

"Then I'm very happy for you." He smiled fondly, though there was something else behind his blue eyes. Something she knew he wasn't telling her, but at present, she didn't want to push and risk making the conversation more awkward than it probably was.

As he continued to look through the Grimoire, seeming to compare the illustrations to his own notes, he spoke to her and himself as she explored more of his office.

"It's a very delicate compilation of rituals she has here. Whoever Esther is- or perhaps, was, she knew her way around Magic. At least, from what I can tell, this isn't the type I've ever practiced."

"What makes this type so different from yours?" Hope asked as she looked over a few shelves, curiously observing the moving photographs within.

"I don't know that I can explain it well enough given how unexplored it is from our world," Albus murmured, turning a leaf in the book, "In our case, much of our Magic originates within our imagination, provided the person carries the magical gene. Many speculate some ancient force is responsible for the creation of Magic itself. Still, the Magic within us allows us to manipulate our surroundings. This Magic, however, is…it seems less to do with what resides within the Witch or Wizard who can conduct it but rather the use of the earth. Harnessing power within the earth itself."

Hope nodded slowly as she tried to understand, glancing over at him. "So you manipulate the magic within you, and I manipulate the magic around me?"

Albus nodded with a smile. "Something to that effect. If I understand it correctly."

Turning back to another shelf, Hope noticed a solitary item next to a picture of a man. He was not quite smiling at the camera, but she could tell he was enjoying the attention of whoever was taking the picture.

His other pictures seemed to hold groups of smiling faces and places she'd never visited. This one was by itself on a shelf- next to a mysterious object as if they belonged together.

"What's this?" she asked, gesturing to the item. It appeared like jewelry, but it was severed in half.

"Hm…" Albus looked up as she glanced over her shoulder. "That…is a long story."

Hope nodded, biting her lip, and turned, walking toward him. "I've got time," she paused, "if you want."

Chuckling, she watched as his eyes glittered, not with humor but sadness.

"I suppose I can make a long story short." He didn't seem too bothered to tell her, though she was beginning to feel something in her chest.

Sorrow.

Deep, cutting anguish.

Was Hope feeling what he felt? If she was, she was almost sure it was a mock version. The pain he must feel in connection to those objects was so intense it also clouded her emotions.

Albus continued. "I fell in love when I was very young and…foolish. I made a blood vow that cost many lives, including his. We ventured very different paths, and I…destroyed him for it. For the sake of humanity." He paused, gaze distant now. "Now selfishly keep his memory alive because a love like that never really can die."

They let the silence consume them for a moment, with only the ticking of a nearby clock to keep it from being deafening.

Hope bit her lip. "I'm sorry you lost him…" she murmured as his blue gaze slid to hers. "I don't think you should be sorry for loving him, though." She didn't know if she'd ever lost someone like that in that way. She hoped she never had- never would. "I think you can love a person who does bad things. It doesn't mean you loved the things they did- it just means…you saw the goodness they could have achieved, and you fought for it."

Hope met his gaze again and found herself…drowning in his ocean eyes.

He smiled softly, the sadness was still there, but something else also bloomed. Something Hope couldn't quite put her finger on.

"You know, you're very wise for someone who can't remember her birthday." He grinned a little, and she could see that playful side starting to come out again.

Laughing, she nodded. "Ah, well, we can just pretend it's my birthday every day. Let's see, I know I was twenty-seven when Newt found me, so I have to be older than you by now. You're, what…pushing eighty?"

Albus laughed deeply again and shook his head. "Forty-eight, thank you." He offered her the Grimoire then.

"I've looked at this as much as I can and made some notations on some separate parchment. This does belong to you, and I imagine you'd like it back."

Hope rose to her feet, holding the book as if it were a comfort item, and nodded. "Thank you, Albus."

Dumbledore's silent nod didn't match the look in his eyes. A look that made Hope's heart stutter in her chest.

Leaving, she realized she had more butterflies now than before she'd entered. Hope didn't want to think about what it meant yet, but she had to admit it to herself.

She rather liked it.