God Of Death.

When Albus entered the Room of Requirement, he would have liked to be surprised to find Alvis there. The room was filled with breakable porcelain, shattered by the maelstrom of magic emanating from the man curled up at the center. Objects shattered and then repaired moments later, only to be shattered again, whether by magic or propelled against the walls, floor, and ceiling. The scene painfully reminded him of the outbursts of his little sister. Considering the man had admitted to having a damaged magical core, the comparison was even more apparent.

He hesitated in the doorway before stepping forward slowly, ready to protect himself from ceramic shards or magical attacks. However, the magic in the air froze at the presence of his arrival, and he did his best to project a peaceful, calming aura. The magic resumed its swirling, avoiding him. He took this as permission and went to sit beside the man. The latter didn't move from his position, sitting with his legs drawn up to his chest, his arms tightly holding them, and his head buried in his knees.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

There was no response for a long time, the sound of breaking porcelain the only noise in the room. Then, Alvis slowly lifted his head and rested his chin on his knees, his gaze lost in the void. He wasn't wearing his glasses, probably to avoid being bothered by them in his previous position. Albus could see that his right eye was far more vacant than the left. That didn't surprise him, considering the scar running through it, and the fact that eyes were particularly difficult to heal. What broke his heart were the tears running down from his reddened eyes.

"I miss them," He whispered.

Albus nodded and gently placed a hand on the other man's shoulder. He gave a brief smile when he wasn't pushed away. He knew they didn't see eye to eye on many things, but Alvis was a good person, trying to do what was right in his way. And sometimes, Albus wondered if it was he who chose the path of least resistance, rather than the one of justice.

"It's normal. You've lost everything, they have the right to be missed."

Alvis closed his eyes, his hands gripping his knees tightly, the magic swirling violently. Another person might have seen a dangerous, unstable mage unable to control his magic. But Albus saw only a sad man, suffering from too many losses, letting his magic express itself in the safest way possible. After all, he hadn't attacked him.

"My godson had just had his third child. I was supposed to visit them in France. Hed..." He took a deep breath, a sob accompanying the tears on his cheeks. "Hedwig, my owl, my first gift, my first friend, my first familiar... She was carrying a parcel for me. It's... It's probably a good thing she didn't follow me, she wouldn't have survived the Convergence. She has a better chance of surviving without the familiar bond, I hope." He let out a broken laugh. "It's not... It's me who's dead, from their point of view. My family, my friends, my comrades. I died leaving them behind. And here I am, a cursebreaker out of his world. Out of his time. They're alive, just unreachable... Losing a familiar was painful. Losing your world must have been even worse."

Albus looked at him with sadness, he could only be there for him. A sympathetic ear to listen to what weighed on his heart. 

Alvis rubbed his eyes angrily while murmuring: "I should pull myself together, I have things to do."

"It's not like that. You have the right to be sad, to rage, to hurt, and to break down. Suppressing your emotions only makes them more painful in the long run."

"But I must..."

"Take time to heal."

"I'll take it, once we're no longer in England. I can't... I can't afford to be weak here. It's dangerous."

He would like to tell him that this wasn't true. But he knew the man wouldn't believe him. He had left the country as soon as he could, after a violent civil war. It was only natural that he didn't feel safe here. And if he had to destroy himself slowly while waiting to leave, then he would, because that was how he was. 

Because Albus had conditioned him that way. 

He suddenly felt nauseous as he realized, seeing, the result of his counterpart's machinations. Machinations he would have made for the little Harry Potter of this world, to save their community. The result was right in front of him: a broken man who didn't feel safe in his homeland and who ignored his well-being for the sake of others. He closed his eyes, disgusted with himself, and moved his hand from the man's shoulder to wrap his arm around his shoulders and pull him closer.

"I'm so sorry, Alvis. For everything they've done to you, for everything you've lost, for everything they've taken from you. I'm sorry for what my counterpart's machinations have done to you."

He received a bitter laugh, but the man didn't pull away.

"I'm like this, and I deal with it."

He tightened his hold on the man's shoulders and felt him relax slightly against him. The magic around them danced more lazily than violently, and the porcelain stopped shattering.

"May I know what happened to you to end up here?"

Alvis remained silent for a moment before answering softly: "I met someone I didn't know before. We spent the whole afternoon talking about mythology and magic and... I think we're becoming friends?"

"That's a very good thing, to forge bonds with someone who doesn't constantly remind you of what you've lost."

"It's terrifying." 

It was a whisper so low that Albus almost didn't hear it. He looked down at the man, whose eyes were closed. He asked gently: "Why is that?"

"Because... It's dangerous to be close to me, I attract trouble as I breathe. And I'm dangerous for those around me."

"I don't believe that. You protect your own, it's even your top priority."

"And I lead them to death. I've led many of my comrades to their deaths. I remember all their names."

He closed his eyes as he realized what he was saying. A general in a bloody civil war, with an army of children he had trained himself, and a few rare adults.

"You're not at war, Alvis. And you won't have to lead one here. Your family and friends won't know that. You won't lead them into battle."

"The Death Eaters are alive. The ideology that created them, that created Voldemort, is still alive. It's only a matter of time before another uprising happens. Because nothing has changed."

"They will change. Andromeda and I will make sure of that. All you have to do is take care of Harry. Don't worry about the rest."

He nodded slowly, although Albus could see that he wasn't fully convinced. But at least he had heard him. And, with time, he would come to believe it. He hoped. 

They sat in silence for several minutes, the younger man relaxing against him, his magic fluttering around them.

"Have you ever heard of two magics being so compatible that they resonate with each other?"

He straightened up and looked at him in surprise. Alvis tilted his head to the side, curious about his reaction. He had put his glasses back on and was staring at him intently.

"Is that the case with your new friend?"

He nodded.

"My magic keeps curling up against hers. It's never reacted like this with anyone else."

A breath slipped from him before he could stop it, as he felt a spark of hope rise within him. If this was what he thought it was, then there was a chance for the other man to be happy.

"When the magic of two wizards is particularly compatible, they can form a permanent bond. They are called 'bonded,' and they are extremely rare. Of course, it is possible to bind two people through a ritual, but it's not the same. Bonded pairs have a natural connection, one more powerful than anything a ritual can create."

His gaze drifted into the distance, his magic brushing against a connection he had never had the heart to sever.

"Having a bond is... the best thing that can happen. Some people spend their whole lives searching for the one who will complete them entirely. The bond allows you to share magic, to know where the other is and how their health is, to always know that you're never alone..." He closed his eyes as a tear fell down his cheek, feeling a response, however faint, from the other side of the connection.

"To be bonded is to be loved unconditionally. To be bonded is to love unconditionally. It's a wonderful thing..." And so painful...

"You're bonded to him," Alvis whispered. "To Grindelwald."

He tilted his head, not bothering to deny it. "I am."

"And it ended badly."

"That's true. However, even though we ended up against each other, neither Gellert nor I had the heart to break our bond. And I will never regret what we had. I have regrets, yes, for Ariana, for all those he killed in his quest for power, for my broken relationship with my brother. But regrets? None." He looked the other man in the eyes with a sad smile. "There is nothing more wonderful and powerful than love, Alvis. Nothing. So, if you think you've found your bond, don't hesitate. You have the right to be happy, you deserve it. Don't be afraid to love, no matter the risks, because love will always be worth it. Always."

"Even if it doesn't last long and she suffers from it?"

The question had been asked in a whisper so soft that Albus almost didn't hear it. However, he nodded and replied sincerely: "It doesn't matter how long it lasts. And why wouldn't it last? My time with my Bonded was brief, but there's no reason it should be the same for you and that young woman."

Alvis gave him only a sad, resigned smile that worried Albus more than it reassured him. Finally, the younger man murmured softly: "He loved you until the end, you know?"

Albus jolted at the sound of it, his eyes widening. 

Alvis looked at him more directly, a sad expression on his face.

"Voldemort sought the Elder Wand and tracked it down to him. He refused to tell him where it was, even though you were already dead, even under torture. He preferred to die rather than point him to your grave."

Albus closed his eyes, his magic tightening around the connection, still as strong as the day it had formed. Then, he reopened them in surprise when Alvis continued: "Of course, I had already desecrated your grave to take your wand and keep it from falling into the wrong hands, even though I didn't know what it was. I swapped it for a regular stick. Then, I broke your nose. Did I tell you how satisfying it was?"

Albus couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, especially given the mischievous look on the man's face, which suited him far better than his previous depression.

"Indeed, you've already told me."

Alvis nodded, then stretched his legs out and took bracelets from his pocket. His magic had completely calmed, surrounding him like a warm coat in winter. 

When he put the bracelets on, Albus stopped feeling it entirely, the suppressors doing their job. 

The man stood up and extended his hand toward the headmaster, who accepted it willingly. 

Then, Alvis bowed politely. "Thank you for the conversation, Headmaster."

Albus smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. "There's no need to thank me, Alvis. You can come back whenever you want, for whatever reason. Hogwarts will always open its doors to you."

"Thank you..."

He patted his shoulder and then escorted him out of the room, where they each went their separate ways.

Loki entered the office and immediately began preparing tea. 

Cerydwen raised an eyebrow but said nothing, simply tidying up her work and going to sit at the low table where they would have tea to discuss. Given that her friend always made the tea for their serious, emotional talks, she felt they would be there for a while. 

Loki had always struggled to face her emotions, as she was used to repressing and hiding, to protect herself, and avoid showing any weakness that could be exploited by anyone, especially by those around her.

She often cursed Odin and Thor for all that their behavior had done to her friend. A father who neglected her because she was the second child, and who only seemed to notice her when she wanted to reprimand her for everything wrong in Asgard, whether or not she was responsible. A big brother who didn't behave like one, who put his friends before her, and who didn't hesitate to make her take the fall for all of his mistakes. Frigga did what she could, but she was just one person, in a warrior civilization that despised everything Loki was.

Cerydwen had invited her, more than once, to stay at Kamar-Taj. But her friend had always refused, afraid of bringing Odin's wrath upon her only sanctuary. They both knew that, even though he neglected her and ignored her, he would never let her leave for good. She was a princess of Asgard, after all.

She closed her eyes, remembering what she had seen of her future. She didn't want to see her end up like that, but she didn't know what to do to save her. All the futures she saw, whether the ones where she stayed in Asgard or the ones where she left, ended badly for her. Some were good, but those timelines were so different from this one that they weren't worth considering.

Sometimes, knowing was a curse.

And she had discovered since the appearance of a certain mage, that not knowing could be even more terrifying.

Loki set the tray on the table and sat across from her. 

They served themselves in silence, comfortable with each other. 

She patiently waited for her friend to gather her thoughts and tell her what was going on. Which she didn't take long to do, with an interesting question.

"Alvis Peverell. What do you know about him?" She raised an eyebrow and took a sip. "You met him?"

"Yesterday, in the library. I noticed he was one of my followers. We talked today."

"Oh, I was wondering where you went when I didn't find you in the library." 

It was her turn to receive a raised eyebrow before Loki pointed to the amulet around her neck. "Couldn't you have just looked where I was?"

"You know it doesn't work that way. Also, I can no longer see our timeline."

The goddess's surprise was visible on her face, so much so that it was palpable. 

Cerydwen liked to think it was also a sign that she trusted her enough to drop her masks.

"How? It's an Infinity Stone!"

She tilted her head. "I'm aware of that. And, interestingly, you mention him, because Alvis Peverell is the reason our future has been so completely disrupted that I can no longer see it. His arrival caused a great disturbance in the fabric of reality."

Loki nearly choked on her tea, to Cerydwen's amusement. "It was him? How?" Then, she froze, tilted her head, and asked: "Could it have something to do with that incident he told me about? The one where he lost so many people?"

Cerydwen smiled sadly as she answered: "Not just many people, but a world. Alvis was ejected from his reality and landed in ours, surviving only thanks to his phoenix familiar and by doing a blood adoption and magical name change. Everything he knew was now beyond reach. And everything he started to rebuild here is aimed at giving a better life to his double, whom he adopted." She took a sip before gazing thoughtfully at her tea. "I'm glad he's starting to form a bond with you. You're the first person he didn't know before with whom he's interacting willingly. He needs more people in his life." She looked up and stared Loki in the eyes. "And you need more friends."

Loki looked away, which was rare, and paused, sipping her tea. Cerydwen waited patiently, knowing that they were finally getting to what the goddess wanted to talk about.

"I don't know if 'friend' is the term I'd use."

She raised an eyebrow. If she didn't consider Alvis as a potential friend, not only would they not be having this discussion, but she would have denied any possibility of emotional connection with the man. So why was she saying this?

"Oh?"

Loki nodded, starting to trace patterns on the wood of the table, a tic she rarely had when she was deep in thought and uncertain. Finally, her hand stopped, and she looked up to meet Cerydwen's gaze.

"Yes. He's my bonded."

Oh. Oh... Oh! A Bonded! It was... Cerydwen thought back to all those worlds where her friend was saved. The biggest difference was just one person. One person is there for Loki, and just for Loki. A person she couldn't be, not with her responsibilities. Whether it was a sister, a lover, a best friend willing to do anything for her, or even one of her doubles deciding to kidnap her, that one person always changed everything for Loki. Because they were there. Because they dared to oppose Odin. Because they had the power to tell the AllFather to go to Helheim and see if they were there. One person. And Alvis was Loki's Bonded. That meant...

Cerydwen suddenly felt the urge to cry from the joy and relief. Because she didn't need to see the future of their timeline to know that Loki could be saved.

Her friend could be saved. By Alvis.

She took Loki's hands with a wet smile.

"I'm happy for you, my friend. You deserve to be happy."

Loki gave a faint smile before lowering her gaze in silence. 

Cerydwen furrowed her brow, concerned. "Loki?"

"What if Odin kills him?"

"He won't."

Loki quickly lifted her head to look at her, surprised by her confident answer. "How can you be so sure?"

"Your laws forbid the separation of Bonded. If you declare it publicly, he'll be forced to accept it, whether he likes it or not. And Odin is many things, but someone who doesn't respect such an ancient law isn't one of them. If you complete your bond, he'll be powerless to stop it."

Loki hesitated for a moment, then pulled her hands away to take another sip of tea. "And if Alvis refuses? He doesn't even know I'm a man most of the time. Or a god. The god he worships, no less. What if he doesn't see me for who I am, but for the image he has of me?"

Cerydwen wondered once again how some could find Loki cold and heartless. She felt things. She felt them so strongly that sometimes she was paralyzed by them, the emotions and feelings overwhelming her and drowning her in an ocean she couldn't escape from.

It was one of the many reasons she had devoted so much time and effort to controlling her emotions and body language. Her emotions were powerful, immediate, and destructive. Whether it was joy, anger, pride, hatred, love... And always, she carried with her a pathological fear of being alone, of disappointing those she loved, whether they deserved it or not, of not being loved or seen for who she truly was. She had so much fear inside her, which she converted into hatred and resentment, but also into uncertainty and self-destruction.

Cerydwen blamed Odin for her insecurities. And Laufey for her fear of abandonment. She blamed them both for her irrepressible need to be something, to have a purpose, a role, to be useful.

She placed her hand on her friend's clenched fist and whispered: "I haven't known Alvis for long, but I can assure you that he sees people for who they are. He'll see you for who you are and accept you. As for the fact that you're genderfluid, he seems to hate any form of discrimination, so something tells me it won't be a problem for him. Give him a chance, Loki. And above all, give yourself a chance to be happy."

She let the other woman digest her words and took the opportunity to refill their cups.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. He's a good person, behind all the trauma. I think you two will be good for each other."

Loki slowly nodded and returned to sipping her tea in silence. Cerydwen hoped that her friend would listen to her and do what was best for her.

It wasn't until several long minutes later that Loki seemed to make a decision and promptly changed the subject. 

Cerydwen just gave an amused smile and refilled their teacups. Everything was going to be alright.

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞?

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