Albus Dumbledore blinked in the sudden brightness of a sun-filled sky, marveling at the warmth as it cooked his wrinkled skin and kissed his beard. While the platform of King's Cross Station hadn't been altogether unlovely, nothing could compare to the grass-lined shore of the Black Lake. It was a spot he'd often frequented, both in his youth and his advanced age. Of all the places residing within the boundaries of his home, the flower-strewn patch of grass beneath the aged oak standing sentinel for the water was had always been his favorite- even in death.
Readjusting his eyeglasses, he sat up straighter and leaned into the gnarled bark, content enough to enjoy the simple beauty of the landscape about him. After all, Albus reasoned, the last six years had been hard on him. Hadn't he earned himself just a brief respite before he soldiered on into his work of ending the Second Wizarding War? A horrid war that had, ultimately, killed him?
Albus certainly thought so.
And so, without allowing himself any inner-turmoil, Albus conjured himself a fishing pole. Unfamiliar though he was regarding the laws governing the physics of this particular plane of existence, Albus hoped to have his efforts rewarded with a sizeable fish. More specifically, a fish of the rainbow-scaled variety.
It was with a bittersweet smile that he cast his line, his once happy thoughts suddenly giving way to those of a more somber variety.
Severus, he mused sadly, had always enjoyed helping him with such a task. And Albus had always been happy to have his company. The way his surly Slytherin's face would light up when his line wriggled, the way the dour face suddenly became animated, that was worth more than anything to Albus.
And though Severus might never admit it, the opportunity of spending some alone time with the first man to ever take a fatherly interest in him was much more valuable than the promise of a handful of rainbow scales- no matter how rare and useful for such a thing was in brewing.
Dead though he was, which was quite, Albus still felt a sharp pang of remorse and sorrow at having died in such unpleasant terms. The curse itself, he reflected, had been relatively painless- mercifully quick, too. There was even the relative comfort of having gone out on terms that were, mostly, his.
It was the circumstances surrounding his demise that wounded him to the quick. How Albus could ever forgive himself for pressuring Severus into delivering the fatal blow, he would never know. It was disgusting, utterly vile, the way he'd forced the young man's hand. The Potion's Professor had already sacrificed so much in his fervored pursuit of ending the war- what right had Albus had in asking the boy to kill his beloved father?
"Don't cry, Professor."
Albus blinked, all at once bemused and alarmed at having been taken off guard. It was quite the unfamiliar sensation, after all.
"Or should I address you as Headmaster?"
Albus sniffed before standing and swiped at his eyes before turning to face his unexpected visitor.
"Eileen Prince."
She was, Albus noted, a beautiful woman. Especially so in this plane, where she was far away from an abusive husband.
"Headmaster!" She suddenly exclaimed, eyes going big. "You're rod!"
Albus shook his head, not bothering to turn about and save the object from falling into the quiet depths of the Black Lake. It just wasn't right for him to be fishing without Severus, especially not so in the presence of his mother.
"What brings you here, Ms. Prince?" Albus asked jovially, pondering what this chance encounter might mean and wondering whether it was really chance at all.
"After all these years, Headmaster, and you still can recognize me?"
She spoke in a drawl all too familiar to him, and hot tears began to prick the back of his eyes again.
"But of course." He managed, his voice suddenly hoarse.
And, indeed, he did. Eileen Prince had always possessed a pair of beautiful eyes, the giant orbs resembling pools of starry, nighttime sky. Yet another trait the mother had passed onto her child.
For a moment, Albus thought she might reward him with a sarcastic retort that would imply he was being disingenuous. It was exactly what Severus would do, after all, the Slytherin having always been quick to deflect any positive attention from himself.
But quite contrary to his assumptions, Eileen flung herself at him, her bony arms wrapping about his neck quite tightly. For a moment, however brief, Albus worried he was in the company of a vengeful mother. It wasn't until he began to feel the hot tears soaking through his robe and unto his neck that he understood the embrace was meant to be an appreciate one- no matter if the sobbing woman was coming close to strangling him.
"Thank you." She rasped, her slight frame heaving with emotion.
"Whatever for?" Albus wondered, returning the embrace with just as much intensity.
"For looking after my baby." She breathed, choking on a sob. "I hardly got the chance to." She spluttered, sniffling loudly.
"Eileen." Albus hummed, squeezing her even tighter. "You'll never need to thank me for that."
"But I do, I do." She insisted, a desperate tone to her voice. "I was beginning to worry about my baby," She struggled to elaborate, "And then you stepped in. And you didn't have too."
"Of course I did." Albus dismissed, his own tears falling now.
"You didn't." Eileen insisted. "But you did. Why?"
"Because he was my boy, too." Albus choked.
.