Albus knows all too well Gellert's desire to be shown rather than informed. The look on Gellert's face would have made a younger version of himself incredibly pleased. Older Albus regretted his words. He needed to remember that while he'd always been older, the age difference had never been so great.

He smiled when Gellert touched his chin, remembering another old conversation they'd shared back when Albus was beginning to show the faintest brush of facial hair. A beard was a sign of wisdom. All of the greatest wizards were shown with large, bushy beards. It was a status symbol, yet he remembered the laughter as Gellert had touched his face. It was the same sound that Gellert gave now which is what most likely prompted him to ask Gellert to travel home with him.

He took Gellert's hand, pulling the young man close. He resisted the instinct to wrap his arm around Gellert's waist, deciding to keep a small bit of distance between them. In an instant the world around them spun out of focus, the ground disappearing beneath their feet, only to be replaced by the wooden floors of Albus' flat. He released Gellert's hand and walked towards the kitchen, putting a kettle on in an attempt to bring some normalcy to the already bizarre scene.

"Take a seat," he says. "Do you still take your tea the same way?"