A/N: This is just a short story I wrote. Please R/R.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Warner Bros, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Heyday/1498 films, JK Rowling and Raincoat books. I don't lay any claim to it. There are a few character of mine in the story though, and those don't belong to JK....I hope....*looks around suspiciously*
It was nearly Christmas time at Hogwarts and the snow was thick upon the ground. The trees went up in the Great Hall as always and the corridors were decorated with holiday trimmings.
Something was missing from Hogwarts though, the spirit wasn't there. There wasn't the laughing and cheer as their had been in years past. Dumbledore was dying, but he refused to leave the school, he said he couldn't.
Today was the first day of holiday break, yet the school was not emptying out as usual, but getting fuller. The open rooms in the Dungeons had cots set up in them and almost every room in the castle was crowded with people, sitting by the fires that were lit in each room.
Charlie, Bill, Fred, and George all came up to Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley couldn't put herself to see Dumbledore, and Mr. Weasley had been killed by an explosive put into a lava lamp he was inspecting. Many former students had come, and were conversing with each other, but it was not a happy time.
There were gaps in years, from deaths and changes. Painful memories of those lost struck hearts deeply, hearts that didn't deserve another gone. But war was war, people had died, and people had lived, but it wouldn't end, not yet.
The enemy was still alive, though almost stretched to their ends, resistance had been getting stronger lately, as people had been coming in from out of Europe to help, but the same was happening for the opposition, you could feel it in the air. The cheer was not there, though longing for it was ever present.
Lines strung down the hallway leading to a private room Dumbledore had near his office. The door always seemed open, with people entering and leaving, to talk to him one last time.
Professor Trelawney sat in a chair pulled up next to the bed. Dumbledore's head was laying against creamy white pillows, looking rather pale against it.
"Now Sybil, I cannot have your first crystal ball, it is yours. Keep it." He pushes it back into her hands looking her into her eyes, "I may be dying, but you are not. You have a life ahead of you, so live it, I don't need a Christmas present from you, and most certainly not your first crystal ball. You only have one first, use it to remember the good things by. Now go and have a nice Christmas, stop worrying."
Trelawney stood up, crying, staring down at her crystal ball. She glanced back at Dumbledore, then went out of the room, towards her tower.
A small girl walked in while Trelawney was leaving. Her name was Zoe Timers, Dumbledores youngest great, great, great, great granddaughter. She walked to the chair and sat in it, her legs dangling far from the ground.
"Albie!" she said when she got there, "why are you so sick?"
"Because I'm old, and that's what happens when your old."
"What's going to happen to you Albie? Are you gonna get better?" she tilted her head as she said this.
"I might, I might," Dumbledore reached for something off to the side of his bed, "Even if I don't, I have something for you." He slowly reached out and patted her on her head, she was no older then four, with her shoes on the wrong feet, a bright pink shirt with loose blue jean overalls, and her large blue eyes. "Do you like chocolate?" he asked her.
She nodded her mouth slightly open, and her eyes open wide. Dumbledore handed her a box with chocolate frogs in it, and smiled at her.
She remembered something she hand, and pulled out two messily knitted socks and handed them to him. "I made these for you all by my self. Its your Christmas present!" She smiled broadly letting go of them.
"You made these? Thank you Zoe," He smiled back at her, "Now, why don't you go out and find your parents now, alright?"
Zoe hopped down off the chair and climbed slightly onto the bed, hugging him, then she looked into his eyes and at his face, "Bye bye Albie!" she hugged him again, and got down off the bed and left the room.
As the child left, Ron and Hermione entered the room holding hands, and sat down next to each other. They were both in their seventh year, and had been together since October.
"How are you doing?" Hermione asked, tears in her eyes. She knew he was going to die soon, whether he said so or not.
"I'm fine," the smile stayed upon his face, though he knew he wasn't telling the truth, "You two must remember to always stay together. Nothing can replace what you have, I know it was hard losing Harry earlier this year, but death is just the next journey." He reached over and took both of their hands, "Live life to the fullest, for its all you have, but don't despair over death, it happens to the best of us. Life is but one step in a journey that goes on for all of time." As he spoke, his voice got softer and softer, down to the last whisper. His head fell the short distance he'd lifted it up from the pillow, his gaze staring blankly.
Ron let go of Dumbledore's hand and whispered near silently, "he's...dead."
Hermione's hand moved to Dumbledore's face, and shut his eyes, "Fare thee well, great heart." Tears ran down her face much more and she turned to Ron, resting her head upon his shoulder, "He's dead," she responded back to him, "dead."
Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to Warner Bros, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Heyday/1498 films, JK Rowling and Raincoat books. I don't lay any claim to it. There are a few character of mine in the story though, and those don't belong to JK....I hope....*looks around suspiciously*
It was nearly Christmas time at Hogwarts and the snow was thick upon the ground. The trees went up in the Great Hall as always and the corridors were decorated with holiday trimmings.
Something was missing from Hogwarts though, the spirit wasn't there. There wasn't the laughing and cheer as their had been in years past. Dumbledore was dying, but he refused to leave the school, he said he couldn't.
Today was the first day of holiday break, yet the school was not emptying out as usual, but getting fuller. The open rooms in the Dungeons had cots set up in them and almost every room in the castle was crowded with people, sitting by the fires that were lit in each room.
Charlie, Bill, Fred, and George all came up to Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley couldn't put herself to see Dumbledore, and Mr. Weasley had been killed by an explosive put into a lava lamp he was inspecting. Many former students had come, and were conversing with each other, but it was not a happy time.
There were gaps in years, from deaths and changes. Painful memories of those lost struck hearts deeply, hearts that didn't deserve another gone. But war was war, people had died, and people had lived, but it wouldn't end, not yet.
The enemy was still alive, though almost stretched to their ends, resistance had been getting stronger lately, as people had been coming in from out of Europe to help, but the same was happening for the opposition, you could feel it in the air. The cheer was not there, though longing for it was ever present.
Lines strung down the hallway leading to a private room Dumbledore had near his office. The door always seemed open, with people entering and leaving, to talk to him one last time.
Professor Trelawney sat in a chair pulled up next to the bed. Dumbledore's head was laying against creamy white pillows, looking rather pale against it.
"Now Sybil, I cannot have your first crystal ball, it is yours. Keep it." He pushes it back into her hands looking her into her eyes, "I may be dying, but you are not. You have a life ahead of you, so live it, I don't need a Christmas present from you, and most certainly not your first crystal ball. You only have one first, use it to remember the good things by. Now go and have a nice Christmas, stop worrying."
Trelawney stood up, crying, staring down at her crystal ball. She glanced back at Dumbledore, then went out of the room, towards her tower.
A small girl walked in while Trelawney was leaving. Her name was Zoe Timers, Dumbledores youngest great, great, great, great granddaughter. She walked to the chair and sat in it, her legs dangling far from the ground.
"Albie!" she said when she got there, "why are you so sick?"
"Because I'm old, and that's what happens when your old."
"What's going to happen to you Albie? Are you gonna get better?" she tilted her head as she said this.
"I might, I might," Dumbledore reached for something off to the side of his bed, "Even if I don't, I have something for you." He slowly reached out and patted her on her head, she was no older then four, with her shoes on the wrong feet, a bright pink shirt with loose blue jean overalls, and her large blue eyes. "Do you like chocolate?" he asked her.
She nodded her mouth slightly open, and her eyes open wide. Dumbledore handed her a box with chocolate frogs in it, and smiled at her.
She remembered something she hand, and pulled out two messily knitted socks and handed them to him. "I made these for you all by my self. Its your Christmas present!" She smiled broadly letting go of them.
"You made these? Thank you Zoe," He smiled back at her, "Now, why don't you go out and find your parents now, alright?"
Zoe hopped down off the chair and climbed slightly onto the bed, hugging him, then she looked into his eyes and at his face, "Bye bye Albie!" she hugged him again, and got down off the bed and left the room.
As the child left, Ron and Hermione entered the room holding hands, and sat down next to each other. They were both in their seventh year, and had been together since October.
"How are you doing?" Hermione asked, tears in her eyes. She knew he was going to die soon, whether he said so or not.
"I'm fine," the smile stayed upon his face, though he knew he wasn't telling the truth, "You two must remember to always stay together. Nothing can replace what you have, I know it was hard losing Harry earlier this year, but death is just the next journey." He reached over and took both of their hands, "Live life to the fullest, for its all you have, but don't despair over death, it happens to the best of us. Life is but one step in a journey that goes on for all of time." As he spoke, his voice got softer and softer, down to the last whisper. His head fell the short distance he'd lifted it up from the pillow, his gaze staring blankly.
Ron let go of Dumbledore's hand and whispered near silently, "he's...dead."
Hermione's hand moved to Dumbledore's face, and shut his eyes, "Fare thee well, great heart." Tears ran down her face much more and she turned to Ron, resting her head upon his shoulder, "He's dead," she responded back to him, "dead."