Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, because J.K. Rowling does. The plot of my story is based off of Mitch Albom's The Five People You Meet In Heaven.
The Five People You Meet In Heaven
Chapter Five- The Arrival
Dumbledore slowly opened his eyes. He was standing, yet he could not remember how he had gotten to his current position. As he looked around, he found out that he was quite alone. There was not one other soul in sight.
"Where am I?" Dumbledore wondered to himself. He tried to call out, to see if anyone could hear him, but not one sound came out. He could not speak.
Dumbledore studied his surroundings more closely. He was standing in front of a small house, with a snake nailed to the door. Dumbledore knew at once where he was.
"Little Hangleton," Dumbledore thought. "But why am I here?"
Not quite sure what to do, Dumbledore made the decision to walk towards the Gaunt front door. He rapped quickly on the door with his right hand.
It was by doing this that Dumbledore realized that his hand was no longer shriveled and black. It looked just like his other hand. It was perfectly healthy.
Before continuing, Dumbledore stretched the fingers of his right hand. It feel good, for he had been unable to do that for the longest time.
No answer came from within the Gaunt house, so Dumbledore tried the doorknob. It opened easily. Dumbledore cautiously stepped inside, not quite sure what to expect.
His caution was for nothing. No one was there, much to Dumbledore's disappointment. The inside was just as deserted as the yard. His shoulders drooped. He had been sure that there would be something more inside.
Dumbledore exited the house. There was no point in staying. Dumbledore thought hard, "What else do I know of in this area?"
Suddenly, the idea hit him, the Riddle house was very close by. Dumbledore headed left from the front door of the Gaunt house and strolled down the hill. He felt very light and airy. He actually felt young.
Dumbledore briskly continued on his way down the hill. There was not one sign of life around him. Everything was silent, except for the occasional light breeze that rustled the leaves of nearby trees.
"Is this heaven?" Dumbledore wondered. "Does heaven have wind and trees? Why is my heaven like this?"
Within five minutes time, or an hours time, or a days time, Dumbledore really wasn't sure, however long it was, he eventually reached his desired destination. The Riddle house looked just as a typical house in Little Hangleton looked. It was white with large black shutters, but did not have one feeling of unwelcome.
Dumbledore surveyed the house windows and discovered that one of the lights in an upstairs room was on. It occasionally flickered, as if the bulb was going bad.
Dumbledore whisked himself onto the porch, and walked straight inside the house. If the only occupants of the house were upstairs, then why bother knocking? It would take them ages to get to the door.
No one protested as Dumbledore stepped into the house, so he simply closed the door behind him as if it was his own house that he had just entered.
Looking at his surroundings, Dumbledore realized that no one had cared for this house for awhile. There were cobwebs over everything, and the small table against the left wall badly needing dusting. There was a mirror over the table where Dumbledore could barely make out his own reflection. Was his heaven really a run down old house with only one lonely flickering light?
There was a white wooden staircase directly in front of the door through which Dumbledore had entered the house. Dumbledore decided that this would be his best bet because that was where the light was.
The steps creaked loudly from protest as Dumbledore walked up them. The paint was peeling of the stairs, and more flecks fell off with every step that Dumbledore took.
At the top of the stairs, Dumbledore could see exactly where the light was coming from. There was a small room at the end of the hallway, with the door widely opened.
Dumbledore began to approach this room. The only thing that he could see was a red chair with a very high back. There were numerous holes in the back, as if the moths had been having a feast for the past few decades. Dumbledore could see the wrinkly hand of the person that was seated in the chair.
Dumbledore quickened his pace, now very excited to see who this strange person was. When Dumbledore reached the door, he thought it would be rude not to knock, because he had so uninvitedly barged into the house in the first place.
Dumbledore tapped the knuckles of his now healed hand on the rotting wood of the door frame. The chair swivelled around as an answer, stuffing falling to the floor.
There was on old man sitting in the chair. He had a walking stick in one hand, and a very kind look on his face. Dumbledore did not recognize him at all.
"Why hello Albus," the man said. "I have been expecting you."
A/N: Please review!