I don't own the characters. They all belong to an amazing woman by the name of J.K. Rowling.

Special thanks goes to Please Take Care of Mom by Kyung-sook Shin.

Author's note: This is a story of Albus Dumbledore, a highly controversial character that I dearly love. I like his wisdom, but I love his vulnerability and his flaws that made him so very human at the end of the story. Hope you enjoy the story.

Parent

When he first arrived at Hogwarts as a student, he immediately found home, friends and love. Although at that time many still considered him a pureblood supporter, and many are prejudiced against him due to his family background, Hogwarts was the first place he really belonged to. It was his first home, his real family.

Oh, he loved his mother, brother and sister dearly. However, Mother was always busy tending Ariana and making a living that she paid little attention to her eldest child, believing that he was big enough to tend to himself; she had her problems and demons as well, and looking after three children as a single mother during late nineteenth century wasn't easy. She also believed that as talented as Albus already was, he didn't require any extra attention that might boost his ego.

To Albus, though, the indifference saddened him and infuriated him at the same time, so painful that he often had to escape to his kindly neighbor's library to seek refuge in books. He also tried to help his Mother in any ways possible, including taking care of his sister, just to earn a few praises and an approving look from the sole parental figure he had left. Unfortunately, Ariana would respond to none but his younger brother. Tried as he might, Albus never succeeded in playing with his sister or calming her. When Ariana threw a tantrum, the scenario always when like this:

Albus rushed into the room, trying to comfort the shrieking girl while avoiding the various zooming, exploding objects. Despite his soothing words, Ariana continued to lash out, her wailing deafening in Albus' ears. The door was pushed open again, and in came Aberforth. The younger boy shot Albus an irate glare, and mouthed "Get lost. You are not helping at all" before turning to the girl and gathered her into his arms. Wailing subsided into sobbing, and then into quiet hiccupping, until Ariana began drifting into sleep. Then the door was pushed open for the third time, revealing their disheveled mother, who must have put down whatever she was doing to check on her children. "Ab," she muttered, relief in her eyes, stilling panting heavily, "thank you." A weak smile. "I wouldn't know what to do without you," she said with genuine gratitude. After Aberforth gently laid Ariana down on the bed, both he and mother left, leaving Albus standing in the torn room, boiling in pain and jealousy.

He missed his father so very much that it ached him physically just thinking about him, but he also hated him for going after those three Muggles.

His father was another reason he wasn't comfortable at home. He adored his father, a man of principle and intelligence. He left because of Ariana. He suffered because of Ariana. Sometime Albus was so tempted to blame Ariana for his father's absence, but one look at her direction diminished the thought. She was too innocent, a casualty of the cruel world. Therefore Albus went back silently nursing the hurt in his heart with books and sweets.

(Of all the family members he was left with, Albus actually like Ariana the best. At least she paid attention when Albus told her about the wonder of Hogwarts and the joy of learning, even though she rarely talked back.)

That was why he found a home in Hogwarts so quickly. He was loved. He was recognized. He counted. He was worth the place. He basked in the praises and attention, trying his best to ignore the dreaded place he had to return every summer. He stilled tried to help out in any way possible, and he stilled love his mother and siblings, but really, in his mind, his home was Hogwarts and Hogwarts alone.

(He didn't cry when Mother died, just felt lost.)

When he returned to Hogwarts at the age of thirty-nine, worn, world-wary, heart-broken, he was merely seeking a place that he could rest and put his attention to, just so that he could ward off the temptation of fame and power. He was not disappointed, in a matter of speaking. As he stepped through the school gate, the old feeling of home seeped back into his tired bones, and he once again fell in love with the school. His colleagues were friendly to say the least. Moreover, he found the children that he was looking for, who trusted him and relied on him to shape their minds and hearts. So Albus did his best. He taught the students, tutored them, mentored them, sheltered them, fathered them, and gave his life to them.

(For a long time afterward people could not imagine Hogwarts without Dumbledore for this reason.)

He imagined being a father that he never could have had as a child, and the sole thought made him smile. When he, three weeks into his first term there, discovered a first-year boy bullied by three seniors, he snapped. He struggled so hard to keep the burning fury in his chest in check, and gave them enough lectures and detentions to last a life time, until all of their faces were shadowed with shame. Later on he consoled the tearful child, made sure all the physical wounds were healed, and straightened his green-and-silver tie before walking him back to dormitory.

The fury and hurt and affection in his chest! He thought he knew what being a parent really mean.

Albus would not hesitate to say that he was proud of his children in general. Although occasionally one or two really let him done, many far exceeded his expectations. When he found out about Minerva McGonagall's talents in Transfiguration, he had encouraged and supported her in every way, but not even in his wildest dream would he imagine that that stern, bad-tempered Head Girl would one day join him to become a parent to so many. Yes, he would love to say that he is very proud of his children indeed.

Then a quiet, pale, neglected boy came. Handsome and intelligent, he was called. And powerful, extremely powerful. However, for the first time, Albus was conflicted. He cared about the child as much as he did to others. In fact, he felt drawn to this orphan. He emphasized with him. But he couldn't shake off the feeling of wariness toward his calculating look and the dark aura lingering around him. How very wrong it was: to be afraid of your own child so! When Tom reappeared under the façade of Lord Voldemort, Albus was not surprised, only saddened and angry – saddened by Tom's behavior; angry at himself for unable to do more.

(The father loved his son even when he's lost, and always nurtured a wild hopes that he can be again found.)

When another dark-haired, abused boy came under his care, he paid extra attention to ensure that he's on the right track. But he had a war to fight, so he laid his trust upon the boy's friend – a bright, lovely girl – to keep him in check. All were well, until the boy's fifth year. With that friendship broken, everything instantly spun out of control. Again he had to face his horrible sorrow and guilt of losing his child.

He loved all of his children unconditionally. Every one of them had a special place in his heart. Therefore after he left the hill with bellowing wind one night, he had to fight back tears – tears of happiness.

(A father should celebrate and be glad, when his child is dead and alive again.)

Once again he thought he must have experience enough to know what being a parent really is. A man is entitled to believe so after experiencing that incredible amount of pride, sorrow, disappointment, anger, happiness, and love.

For a third time, a child came under a special attention, a child that he vowed to keep a distance from. Because he was not only a child, but a pawn as well. What guilt and agony it was, to manipulate your own child and to send him into the battlefield – but he told himself, it was all for the greater good. He wasn't given a choice, was he?

All the determination of distancing himself from that child, however, was shattered in front of a mirror, when he discovered the similarities between them. It was not unlike a parent looking fondly at the same nose shape he shares with his newborn baby – only more intense. That boy saw his family in the mirror too! The hunger on his face when he gazed into the cold glass torn Albus' heart into two and drew him toward that eleven-year-old child, against the caution of his rational mind.

(Unbeknown to the two of them, an inseparable bond formed that instance when Harry asked what Albus see in the mirror. It was a bond neither was aware of until much later.)

Over the years Albus watched the child overcome countless obstacles = with love, bravery, and self-reassurance. A father is not supposed to have favorites, but he had – and what's worse, he didn't feel guilty at all. He loved the boy so much that he wanted to protect him and his innocence at all cost. Even if it meant not speaking to him. Even if it meant not telling him the prophecy. Even if it meant locking him up with his hated relatives every summer. Even if it meant not letting his godfather to risk his life. Even if it meant making him feel neglected and unwanted. Even if it meant letting Harry to loathe himself.

(A grave mistake: He had forgotten how much he had hated being locked up, or being kept in the dark.)

That was why when the child raged in his office, all heart-broken and aching, his heart bled as well. At that second he knew all intention to protect his child would be futile. It was a downright frightening thought, one that made his inside freeze up and sent a shiver down his spine. Later on, after Harry dizzily stumbled out of the office, he could no longer restrain his tears. In the company of baby Fawkes, he wept for the fate of all his children at war with each other. Some are determined to destroy, some are forced to destroy.

(The ground of Hogwarts would be dyed scarlet, he knew.)

Albus Dumbledore died knowing he was an excuse of substitute parent to Ariana. He died at home, surrounded by his children, some wanting to kill him others wanting to save him. He died feeling quite relieved in the company of Harry Potter and Severus Snape. Although huge quilt and remorse weighted upon him at the thought that he could not do more to help them, he was nonetheless glad that they were there with him till the end. He was gladder that the two of them no longer need his guidance; they have grown into two fine men. He believed that he leave the world in good hands.

(And secretly, he was also very glad that he is dying quickly.)

No one knew that, all his life, Albus Dumbledore was longing for his parents, too.

(He would see them very soon)