Albus Dumbledore sat behind his desk, his head clutched in his hand, trying to ward off a budding headache. In front of him sat a pile of letters from the acting Minister, Cornelius Fudge. They were all pleas for advice and help, as the man clearly had no idea what he was doing.

Albus' mind was running at a speed that would rival apparition, taking points from different places and different names and connecting them, creating a web of ideas and theories. Every now and then he would contradict himself, and on of the silken strands of the web would snap, only to be woven anew in a different connection.

And there, in the back of his mind, in the center of his web, sat his most precious name, his most treasured memory.

Ariana.

She had been the sweetest little girl. Even before she had been attacked by those muggles she had been shy, but once you convinced her to exit her self-erected shell of solitude, you would find a beautiful person.

One memory stood clear in Albus' mind. She had been sitting in the backyard, in a darling white dress, her long, dark curls cascading down her back, and her blue eyes alight with merriment.

She had something cradled in her hands. She was stroking it softly, smiling as she cooed at it, and it cooed back. The blue feathers rippled and the tiny bluebird burst into song. Arian laughed, and started singing with it.

That memory came from the days when everything had been perfect. Albus and Aberforth had been close as brothers could be, and little Arian had been happy. She had smiled, and she had sang. She had the most wonderful voice, the type of voice that made people stop and listen, looking up to try and find the angel that they were sure would be hovering above them.

As the memories all came flooding back to Albus unbidden, he had the sudden and overwhelming urge to see her again. To be reminded of her voice. He stood, his chair falling behind him. He walked quickly around his desk, pulling out his wand as he did so.

" Expecto Patronum!" He incanted, and from his wand burst forth a bluebird, singing it's joyous song.

Albus stopped, and sat back. He closed his eyes, savoring, one last time, Ariana's Song.