AN: Written for Round 6 of QFL

Warnings: Canon Character Death

Wordcount: 3,022

Prompt: Arabella Figg/Albus Dumbledore

Optional Prompts:

(Emotion) Guilt

(Word) Memories

The Life and Times of Arabella Figg

7th July 1945

Arabella moved forward as a warm old hand settled on her tiny shoulder, guiding her forward.

"I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, my dear, but your parents have died."

Her mommy and daddy were gone, and Mr Albus had found her a new home.

She felt like something heavy was sitting on her chest. It was hard to breathe and her heart was pounding. As the large door opened, she squeaked in fear. A small thing with saggy skin, humongous eyes, and floppy ears was staring at them.

"Relax, my dear," Mr Albus whispered as he gave her arm a gentle pat. "These are house-elves. They are magical creatures who live to serve witches and wizards. It will do you no harm. You've seen them, although you don't remember."

It made sense; she didn't remember much, after all.

"You are in a place called Hogwarts. It is a school for magical children. Do you remember magic, Arabella?"

It was one of the few things she could remember.

Her name was Arabella Ariana… She couldn't remember her last name.

She was 10 years old.

Her favourite thing to eat was candy-striped figs.

She lived in a magical world, and she had no magic.

That was it...

"While we healed your injuries, I'm afraid your memories may never return."

It wasn't fair.

She couldn't remember her mommy and daddy, so she couldn't miss them.

She wanted to remember them; to love them; to feel sad that they were gone.

The only thing she could feel as she stared at the strange creature, was the creeping uncertainty and dread that wrapped around her heart as though it was a weed trying to strangle her.

The house-elf spoke in a high-pitched voice, jolting her from her thoughts.

"Twinkle is being told to bring guests to the family room."

Arabella felt her feet move forward as if they were hypnotised.

She didn't remember sitting on a sofa. She blinked and she was there. Mr Albus was sitting next to her. She clutched the sleeve of his sparkly purple robe and tried to focus.

A man and a woman were across the room, smiling at her.

Mr Albus was talking to them, but she couldn't hear what they were saying.

She felt like she was floating, watching everything happen instead of living it.

The people... They were saying something to her now…

Mr Albus looked at her expectantly.

There was a faint buzzing in her ears.

Darkness beckoned her.

It promised to save her from everything scary and unfamiliar.

She embraced the darkness, allowing it to pull her under.

Her head felt heavy, and she was so sleepy. There was a voice calling her.

"Arabella? Come back to us, my dear."

She forced open her eyes.

Mr Albus was standing above her with concern in his eyes.

It felt like something cracked open inside her chest, and tears began streaming down her face.

"Mr Albus, please, can't I say with you?"

"Arabella," he said softly, "We've already talked about this. I wouldn't be able to give you everything you need. Mr. and Mrs. Filch are good people, and they have a little boy about your age…"

A memory flashed through her mind as Mr Albus continued talking.

She woke up in a strange bed, and a man was sitting in a chair next to her. He was old, his beard was long, and his eyes sparkled. She felt calm and safe as she looked at him, even though she didn't know what was going on.

It was her first memory, and the thought of losing that sense of safety made her sick with fear.

"I don't care!" Arabella screamed, cutting off whatever Mr Albus had been saying. "I don't know them! My parents are gone, and I can't even remember them! I can barely remember anything! You are the only person I know! I want to stay with you!"

Her body became wracked with sobs as she was overwhelmed by everything she had experienced over the past few days.

Several minutes later, when she was able to control her breathing, she opened her eyes. She felt a stab of guilt when she saw that Mr and Mrs Filch both had tears in their eyes.

"I… I'm sorry sir… ma'am… I'm just… so confused," she whimpered.

Mrs Filch knelt in front of Arabella and stroked her hair softly. The warmth in her brown eyes and the gentleness of her touch were unexplainably soothing. "Don't apologize, sweetheart. Everything you're feeling is perfectly natural. Why don't we start over?" She smiled and removed her hand, holding it out towards Arabella. "My name is Primrose Flora Filch."

Tentatively, Arabella grasped her hand and shook it. "My name is Arabella Ariana… Fig."

"Fig?" Mr Filch asked. She looked up at him. He looked tall and strong, his smile was gentle, and his dark blue eyes were full of curiosity. Arabella felt her fear lessen as she studied him. He reminded her of a big teddy bear; strong but cuddly.

"I don't have a last name… or… I don't know it…" She felt her cheeks warm and lowered her eyes in embarrassment. "I wanted a last name… and I love candy striped figs… so…" Her throat dried to the point of aching and she couldn't say any more.

"I think it's a wonderful last name." Mr Filch said.

Arabella's head jerked up, her eyes widened in shock. "You do?"

Mr Filch smiled and nodded. "As a matter of fact, we have an ancestor with that last name."

"Really? Who was he?"

"James was a Squib who lived in the muggle world."

"What's a Squib?" Arabella interrupted.

Mr Albus, who had moved to sit in a nearby chair, answered her softly, "A Squib is someone who is born to magical parents, but has no magic of their own."

"Like me?"

"Yes, just like you." Mr Albus said, smiling fondly.

Her heart began to race again, "What was he like?"

Mr Filch chuckled softly, "He became a fighter and teacher in the muggle world. He worked with his fists, swords, and even sticks! He was the first bare-knuckle boxing champion in England. He made quite a name for himself. "

Arabella couldn't believe that someone so amazing had been real. "And his last name was Fig too?"

"Well, he spelled it F-i-g-g, but yes." Mr Filch said, chuckling again.

She thought it over for a moment before asking, "Do you like him?"

"Well, I never knew him." Mr Filch said with a chuckle. " He died long before I was born. But I loved hearing stories about him when I was growing up. I respect and admire him greatly."

"E-even though… he didn't have any magic?"

"Of course!" Mrs Filch broke in. "Our son Argus is a Squib as well. There's nothing wrong with not having any magic, no matter what anyone says."

"That's right." Mr Filch agreed. "We've had quite a few Squibs in our family over the years. There are other things in the magical world a Squib can learn, and there's always the muggle world."

For the first time since she walked through the door, Arabella smiled. "So… what happens now?"

Mr Albus put some papers on the table in front of her. "If you want to stay here, you just sign these papers and it will be settled."

She looked at the faces of Mr and Mrs Filch and thought about James Figg. She had picked his last name… sort of… and Mr Filch said he admired him. James Figg had been from the magical world and had gone to the muggle world. It must have been scary, she thought, even though he didn't have any magic, he went to a completely different place and worked hard. He must have been very brave.

Arabella picked up the quill and signed at the bottom of the parchment.

She looked at it for a moment, scrunching her nose in thought. With a determined smile, she made a change.

Arabella Figg

30th June 1998: The Present

Arabella let out an exhausted sigh. Six months had passed since the end of the second wizarding war. Exactly one year had passed since Mr Albus had died… he said you didn't have to call him Mr anymore, she thought. He always said that. With the war, and everything that came after, she hadn't really been able to process his death.

I guess a lot of people felt that way if they decided to have a memorial. As she entered her new home in Hogsmeade, she couldn't help but laugh. After living here for a month, she was still relieved by the lack of cat smell. The things I put up with, all because Mr Albus asked me to.

Harry Potter must have felt the same way. He'd been quite shocked to realize that although she did breed kneazles, and had attracted plenty of normal cats as a result, she wasn't the batty old woman that she had pretended to be. She'd hated nearly every second of living in that neighbourhood, putting up with those insufferable people, and acting like she had no sense. But she would have done anything for Mr Albus. Because of him, she had a family, a brother, and had been able to go to Hogwarts. He never forgot about her.

7th July 1946

"Do you mean it?!" Arabella shouted.

"That's right my dear," Mr Albus replied, "You and young Argus will be going to Hogwarts this year."

"But I thought Squibs couldn't go to Hogwarts?"

"Traditionally, yes, that is true. But I've convinced the board otherwise, therefore, you will live as normal students in Hogwarts and take limited classes. It was originally going to be you alone, but I knew you would not tolerate the exclusion of Argus."

It was true. She and Argie had been best friends since the day she'd moved in with them. He cared a lot more about their lack of magic than she did, and she knew he would be thrilled to have a chance to study at Hogwarts.

"Thank you Mr Albus!" she said, beaming at him. "Why did you do this for us?"

For a moment, Mr Albus had that same shadow of guilt on his face that she had seen before, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. " Mr Filch was correct in saying that there are other things in the wizarding world that a Squib can learn, and you shall."

June 30 1998: The Present

Arabella opened her door and froze. Harry Potter was standing at her door.

"Um… Mrs Figg?"

She smiled good-naturedly. "That's right." He stood and stared at her, looking endearingly dumbstruck. "Is there something I can do for you, Mr Potter?"

He shook his head as though to clear it. "I'm sorry, Mrs Figg. You just look so… different. I mean- not in a bad way or anything- Um."

Arabella couldn't help but laugh. "It's alright, Harry. I know what you mean. It's amazing what a change of clothes and lack of hairnet and walker can do, isn't it?"

Harry smiled sheepishly. "Anyway, I have something for you. May I come in?"

"Oh… of course!" She said, welcoming him inside.

As they sat across from each other, she offered him some tea, which he accepted. "What is it you have for me?"

Harry pulled something from his robe. With a flick of his wand, the thing began to grow, and she realized it was a pensieve. He then pulled out several potion vials and placed them on the table in front of her.

"These are… Professor Dumbledore's memories. I was visiting his portrait one day, and he gave me instructions to retrieve them and give them to you.

She stared at them blankly.

"Did you know him well?" He asked.

"No… Yes… I don't know." She said. "He was my hero. He gave me everything. But did I know him?" She sighed. "I don't know that anyone really did."

"Would you… like me to stay?" He asked, clearly uncomfortable.

"No, that's alright. I'll have the pensieve sent back to you." She responded without looking at him.

"Alright. Oh, Mrs Figg?"

"Arabella." she corrected. "I was never actually married. Your Aunt and Uncle were annoyingly suspicious of an unmarried woman of my age living in their perfect neighborhood, so I made up the widow story. I've never been married."

Harry chuckled. "Arabella then. As someone who has seen some of his memories, I just want to warn you that you might not like what you see. He was a great wizard, but he kept a lot of secrets and had his own reasons for doing a lot of the things he did. I just want you to be prepared."

She looked up and saw a hint of respect in his eyes. "Thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome," he replied, leaving the house without another word.

There was a note with the vials. Arabella picked it up, immediately recognizing the handwriting.

Arabella,

By the time you see this, I will be long gone. I have kept many secrets from you, my dear. I would like to say that I thought I was doing what was best for you. But I must confess that I was also motivated by guilt and cowardice. You may despise me after you see the first of these memories, but I beg you to view all of them, in the hope that you may understand.

I want you to know that you have always meant a great deal to me, regardless of how it may have seemed.

Farewell,

Albus Dumbledore

Before she could change her mind, Arabella picked up the first of the memories and poured it into the pensieve, and leaned in.

Albus Dumbledore exuded power and righteous fury as he leaned over his opponent, victorious.

"Are you going to kill me, Albus?" The fair-haired man said, having accepted his defeat.

"No, Gellert. The wizarding world might want me to, but I cannot, despite everything that has happened. You will spend the rest of your days here, in your own fortress. Alone."

"Very well, Albus," Gellert replied. "I have one favour I must ask of you. You see… I have a daughter. "Her name is Arabella. Arabella Ariana Gridelwald."

Arabella nearly fainted. Grindelwald… was her father? She focused once more on the scene in front of her. She could deal with her emotions later.

"You DARE?!" Albus shouted. "Because of you...and me… my sister is dead. And you give her name to your child?" He let out a choked sound. "Why?"

"When my daughter was born… my world turned on its head. I wanted an heir. That was all I cared about until I held her in my arms. I gave her your sisters' name as a reminder of the damage I had caused, and as a way to keep her memory alive."

"Why… are you telling me this?" Albus whispered hoarsely. "What are you asking of me?"

"Everything is over for me, but my daughter is innocent. Her mother is dead and she has nowhere to go. She does not deserve to live her life in exile, but if my enemies learn of her existence, they will make an example of her, to punish me. Please. Take her somewhere safe. Make sure she has the life she deserves. I ask you, out of the love we once shared, though I don't deserve it. Please, take care of my daughter."

The memory flashed.

A young Arabella stood before Albus Dumbledore.

"Are you going to take me to my daddy?"

I'm sorry to do this to you, my dear. But you cannot remember your life here. You must forget everything about your parents.

"What… what are you talking about?" Young Arabella said, her eyes widened in fear as she began to back away.

"Obliviate."

Young Arabella fell to the floor, unconscious.

Albus picked up the girl and cradled her in his arms, his eyes clouded with guilt. "Now, we just have to find someone who won't mind your lack of magic."

Back in her own home, Arabella rushed to the bathroom and vomited. Her entire life, Albus Dumbledore had lied to her. He had taken her memories away. He had claimed to not know anything about her parents, or anything about her life.

She had always suspected he was hiding something. The guilt on his face when she mentioned her memories or lack of parents, the way he kept himself at a distance while going above and beyond for her, the fact that he insisted on keeping her close throughout her life, first getting her into Hogwarts and then inducting her into the order. It all made sense now.

A few minutes later, she was refreshed and in front of the pensieve once again.

One by one, she viewed the memories, feeling his motivations and emotions.

His doubts and guilt when he left her with Mr and Mrs Filch.

How he wanted to tell her the truth when he told her she was going to Hogwarts.

His pride and joy when she was sorted into Hufflepuff.

Watching Arabella thrive, immersing herself into any class she could study without magic.

Concern over her rift with Argus as he grew bitter and angry that he couldn't learn magic, often lashing out at her. He did his best to help Argus because he wanted her to be happy.

Dumbledore giving Argus a job after graduation because Arabella asked him to.

Giving Arabella a position with the Order to keep her close, and then placing her in Surrey to watch Harry as a way to ensure her safety.

Arabella saw herself in a way she never had before. She had never realized how much he truly cared for her, until now.

"Alright, Albus Dumbledore, but I'll be having a chat with your portrait soon, make no mistake."