Disclaimer: Not mine, of course!
A/N: I'm writing another short story, Galleons, as I mentioned before, and it's taking me longer than anticipated. I'm hoping to get it up perfect, but I need some help with it. I don't know what I need to do this, is it a beta? Because I've never needed help on one of these before, but whatever someone can offer would be brilliant!
A/N: Albus Dumbledore. How do you sum up what that man fought for? It cant be done, I know that full well. So, here is my feeble attempt to do the impossible. I hope it is fairly realistic. Oh, and I'm sorry that this chapter, too, is without the final, 'What I Fought For' line, but I couldn't make that work in here. Sort of everything Albus is saying fits into why he fought.
'Professor, I'm sorry, but there's one more thing I don't understand,' Harry said, slightly cautiously.
Albus found it odd that after all they had been through, both together and apart, that Harry would be nervous about asking him anything. There were no secrets anymore.
'Of course, Harry. What would you like to know?' he replied, gazing at the young man in front of him. He remembered so well taking that tiny, black haired baby to his muggle Aunts house. He remembered seeing him again for the first time in his first year, that skinny little boy, with anxious eyes, so full of wonderment. He was a different man now, as he stood in front of him. It was nothing short of a miracle that the wonder was not gone from his green eyes.
'You must have had the Resurrection Stone before you died, why did you give it to me, and not use it for yourself? You could have seen your sister and your parents!' Harry forced out his words all at once, like if he hadn't said them so quickly, he wouldn't have been able to say them at all.
'Harry, how is it that you have the courage to overcome an extremely dangerous dark wizard, and yet you can not ask me such a seemingly simple question?' Albus smiled slightly.
'I didn't have any respect for him, Professor.' Harry said, honestly.
'Thank you, Harry, but I don't need to tell you that there are people far more deserving for your respect than me,' he replied, shooting a small glance over to the portrait of Severus Snape, Harry nodded slightly, so Albus continued speaking, 'I will, however, answer your question, Harry, out of my respect for you.'
Albus glanced quickly over his old office. Severus and Minerva had changed very little in their respective times as Head of Hogwarts. Minerva was, of course, still holding the position, and doing an excellent job, he thought.
'Well, Harry, I don't need to tell you of my adolescence, or my family, as I trust you remember that. There is one thing I must tell you, though I suspect you already know. I do not see myself receiving socks when I look into the Mirror Erised. I see my family, restored and loving again, similar, perhaps, to that image you first saw in the mirror, all those years ago.
'When my mother died, my brother and I were left to care for our sister, a responsibility I took very lightly, I am ashamed to say. My sisters death was accidental, but that did not stop Aberforth and I blaming ourselves. After that, I did not try to find glory, as Ms Skeeter seemed to believe. I did only what I could to ease my conscience and to soften my guilt. It did not work, and it has not worked for all these years.
'Not using the stone was, I believe, one of my greatest accomplishments. You are correct, I could have seen my mother and my sister. However, as you well know, Harry, the stone shows us only shadows of people. But, as you also know, when we depart on the next great adventure, we see those people again. Only, we see them truly in death, just like you saw me at Kings Cross station.
'I thought that if I helped rid the world of Lord Voldemort, I was clearing my other sins and erasing my guilt. I knew that if I could help you to complete your task, I would be worthy in my own eyes to see my family again.
'And that is the real reason I did not use to stone. I did not deem myself worthy to do it. When Professor Snape fulfilled my wishes, I knew I could die the honest death, and then be justly be able to see them again.' Albus finished, tears working their way past his half moon glasses and down his nose.
'And did it work, Professor? Are you with them now?' Harry asked, hopefully.
'Ah, Harry, I can not tell you that, I'm afraid.' Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Albus spoke again, ' I can not tell you, because I do not know. A portrait is, you see, nothing more than the essence of a person, a shadow of them when they lived, if you like. I can speak to you only of what I knew before my death, not after. I know no more than you do about what lies beyond. Although, I do hope I am with them now. It is, after all, what I fought for, to see them again and to be forgiven'
Harry nodded, and turned to leave. 'Thank you, Professor. I hope you get what you fought for.'