A/N: Wow it's been a long time! It's good to be back! :) If you can believe it, I started this fic back in 2008, and finally finished it in 2010.
Enjoy!
Dumbledore sighed. He knew he was going to have to wait a while. He looked grumpily around the train station. No one else was there.
Ah, he concluded, that was because they were smart and took the train.
Dumbledore knew that he had to fight the urge to jump on the train and sound a cry of joy. He had to resist the fact that his family could be within reach in seconds. He had to do everything in his power to keep away from the blasted train door.
Of course, he could always imagine the train station without the train, but it didn't seem right. Seeing a train station without a train was like seeing an ice cream van with no freezer door or ringing bell. So he kept the train.
Dumbledore rolled his eyes, imagined himself a wand, and looked down to find that he had one in his hand all along. A few simple spells worked fine, but the more complicated ones failed miserably, with just a puff of smoke and a fizzing sound. Dumbledore sighed. It will never live up to my old one, he thought, throwing the wand to the ground and pacing.
Of course, as he thought of holding his old wand in his hand and feeling the old wood and intricate design around the handle, it was there, just like that.
"Lumos." Dumbledore whispered. The wand lit up. Success, he thought as the bright orb shone in the dim light of station. He'd sworn that it was bright as day before, but as his light spell wore out, the dimness of the station decreased, as if the station itself lightened up, like it had to stay in equilibrium. Within moments, the spell flickered out, and Dumbledore was left there, with his trusty wand but no magic.
Dumbledore pondered this magical conundrum as he sat down in a seat and pulled out what happened to be his favorite knitting magazine. It seemed that he could easily obtain something with a simple thought. But yet, everything magical wouldn't work correctly. He briefly thought he'd lost his magical powers, but that wouldn't explain how he could get a spell to work, even if it was rather unsuccessful. He concluded that the magic of the limbo area overpowered his own and worked differently. He also concluded that there were other ways to spend his time in the train station while waiting for Harry.
Dumbledore took part in his favorite muggle activities. He spent time in the bowling alley next door to the station, where ten-pin bowling was always free. He'd also learn to enjoy the science center next door to the bowling alley and spent a rather long amount of time learning basic biology and chemistry.
Dumbledore wondered about the curriculum of Hogwarts. Surely, it would benefit them to learn some muggle subjects. He made a mental and physical note on his notepad he found in his back pocket. He'd have to find a way to communicate his ideas to the living world, as he referred to it as. He'd already guessed he wasn't living, but also wasn't dead.
As time went by, Dumbledore became more and more tired with his surroundings. He had played enough bowling, learned enough science, and had done enough muggle activities for a lifetime. He wondered how long he's spent in this limbo area. His watch wasn't working properly still, as it was still stuck at 12:00. A thought entered his mind, and he was wrought with disbelief over it.
What if I spent no time here at all? What if time stopped? Dumbledore often wondered to himself. He'd spent hours thinking about it, or maybe even no time at all.
Dumbledore ached to still ride the train. The thoughts of his smiling little sister caused him almost physical pain. His chest would get heavy, his stomach would drop, and he would bend over, raked with sadness. All he needed was to see Harry, tell him everything, and then he could ride the train.
It was in one of these painful sorrows that he realized what he needed to do. Dumbledore sat up, dried his eyes and regained his composure.
Dumbledore imagined Harry being with him, and telling him everything. He imagined it was after a failed killing curse. He imagined how the conversation would happen, what Harry's responses would be and what he himself would confess.
"I need Harry Potter." Dumbledore said loudly.
And in front of him, Harry appeared, face down on the ground and naked. But Dumbledore didn't care in the slightest. He was happy. Dumbledore could explain everything.
And finally, he would be able to ride the train. Maybe after one free game of ten-pin bowling, however.