Albus Dumbledore watched as Harry Potter faded away. He was off to fight the final battle against Tom Riddle. Dumbledore hoped that he would not be seeing Harry again for a very long time. But then, what was a long time. He'd been waiting for Harry to arrive for nigh upon a year and yet, it had felt like mere minutes. Dumbledore sighed. He was putting all his faith in young Harry. He knew that this was the day that he'd been preparing the boy for since he'd first started at Hogwarts. No, longer than that; since he'd left the boy at his aunts sixteen years ago. And yet, despite everything the boy had done, Dumbledore still felt the pangs of guilty. To burden Harry, a boy just begin adulthood, with such a task was, in many ways, a cruelty. But it had to be done. For the great good it had to be done.
Dumbledore sighed again. After nearly a century he still hadn't learned his lesson. He turned his head and looked at the twisted and flayed remains of Tom Riddle's soul. Despite all that he had done, all the people he had killed, all the horrible acts that he had committed, when Dumbledore looked down upon this wretched, ugly, mutilated fragment of Tom Riddle all he could feel was pity and sorrow. Because he knew that this was what awaited Tom Riddle. There would be no redemption. There would be no peace. There would only be unending pain.
Dumbledore turned away from the Tom Riddle's soul, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He turned away from the place where Harry Potter had vanished and moved, with resolute steps, towards the bright and glorious light in front of him. He's duty to Harry was done. It was time to rest. The misty form of King's Cross Station began to melt away as Dumbledore walked on, replaced by even more pure white light. Soon enough, Dumbledore was shielding his eyes from the glare. He chuckled slightly at the thought of being blinded by the light of the afterlife.
Dumbledore continued on. How long he walked, it was impossible to know. All he knew was that there was something waiting for him up ahead. What that something was, he didn't know. But, for good or ill, he was going to have to meet it in the end. Finally, after with seemed like both an eternity and only a few of minutes, Dumbledore stopped something up ahead. Several hazy shapes had appeared in the distance. The light was so strong and the shapes so far away that he could barely even make out their outlines. Dumbledore picked up his pace, the shapes growing clearer with each step. Now he could see that they were definitely people. Many of them were moving about. It seemed that one of the hazy people was even moving towards him.
Without warning, something slammed into him and gripped him hard around the middle. Blinking to clear his vision, Dumbledore looked down. His eyes filled with tears. His sister, Ariana, was giving him the tightest hug he had ever experienced in his life; or afterlife as the case may be. Ariana looked up at Dumbledore, smiling. She was whole and health, much more so than she had ever been when she was alive. The fear and shame that had filled her eyes ever since those muggle boys had attacked her was replaced with a soft, gentle kindness.
"What's wrong Albus?" asked Ariana, her voice as clear and bright as a summer's day. "Aren't you happy to see me?" Dumbledore, tears still flowing down his face, knelt down so that he and his sister were at eye level.
"I am happier than I have ever been," said Dumbledore, his voice cracking with emotion. A wide, sunny smile spread across Ariana's face. The two siblings embraced, hold on to each other for what seemed like an eternity. When they did finally release each other, Dumbledore looked around to see that the hazy shapes had solidified. All around him where people that he had lost. His mother and father beamed proudly at him. Alastor Moody (unscarred and whole) gave a curt nod; as did Severus Snape, a slight sneer upon his face. There was Sirius Black, Remus and Nymphdora Lupin, Fred Weasley, and several other members of the Order of the Phoenix, all waving happily at him. And then there was James and Lily Potter. James was having a difficult time hold back Lily. She was glaring at Dumbledore, her normal pretty face twisted in rage. She was clearly unhappy with how Dumbledore had used her son for his grand schemes. Dumbledore rose to his feet. He would have to face Lily's wrath eventually so, why not sooner rather than later. He made to head over to Lily and James but something caught his eye and made him stop.
Gellert Grindelwald stood somewhat appear from the rest of the group, unsure how he's presence would be received. The sight of Grindelwald was enough to drive everything else from Dumbledore's mind. They had not seen each other since Dumbledore had locked Grindelwald in his cell all those years ago. Without meaning to, without realizing he was doing it, Dumbledore moved towards Grindelwald; stopping only when he was a few feet away from him. The years in Nurmengard had not been kind to Grindelwald. The wild, golden haired boy that Dumbledore had known in his youth had been replaced with a broken, old man.
Silence fell around Dumbledore and Grindelwald. Even Lily had stopped her irate attempts to break free of her husband's grasp. Everyone watched quietly as the two great wizards each stared into the other's ancient face. They both seemed unsure about what to do next. It was as if they were waiting for the other to make the first move. How much time passed while Dumbledore and Grindelwald studied each other, no one would tell. In the end it was Grindelwald who spoke first.
"I'm . . . sorry." Two words. That was all. Just two words. Dumbledore blinked once, twice, three times. And then, in one fluid movement, he hugged Grindelwald, who stiffen in shock.
"I forgive you," whispered Dumbledore. Now it was Grindelwald's turn to blink. Slowly, tremulously, he wrapped his arms around his former friend. In that moment, while they held each other, everything seemed to fade away. They were no longer Dumbledore and Grindelwald. They were just Albus and Gellert. It was Albus, this time, who acted first. As he stepped back, breaking their embrace, he saw that Gellert had changed. The years had reversed themselves. He was seventeen again and full of youthful and reckless abandon. What's more, Albus could see from the reflection of himself in Gellert's eyes that he too had regressed. He no longer sported long, silver hair and a long, silver beard. He was clean shaven and his hair was auburn once more. A smile spread across their faces. Death had given them a second chance; a chance to be what they'd always wanted to be. Friends. Equals. Happy.