Disclaimer: I am not, nor shall I ever be JK Rowling. This is her world manipulated for my own amusement.

A/N: We're not far from the end now.

a/n: Albus is forever altered for this story. Hopefully, you can see small pieces of who he is fifty years later coming to be in everything from his off-hand remarks about socks, to his solitary life. But most of all, is the strange twists of humor that seem to come out of nowhere and leave everyone believing he's a bit eccentric – owing to his time with the laugh-prone Lorelei. We are, afterall, the sum of our experiences.

Chapter 19 – In Memorium

Days crawled by torturously. Albus was completely consumed by grief and remorse, unable to sleep or eat. Friends tried to help, making sure he was never alone, and that the many reminders of Lorelei were removed from his line of sight. He'd even gone to stay in Nicholas' home at the insistence of Perenelle, rather than returning right away to Hogwarts.

Hagrid had been fetched to the house in France, where the heart-breaking news had been delivered. Even though Albus had expected the boy to take it hard, it was much worse than he'd ever imagined. Hagrid had wept bitterly, blaming himself for her passing as if his mere presence in her life had somehow doomed Lorelei. And though he was far too educated to believe such a notion, Albus found himself relating to the sentiment, because some part of him wondered if he were such an anathema to those who would love him, for surely it could not be coincidence that he remained alone after so many years, even though he did not desire solitude.

Arabella took the news even harder. Aberforth brought the girl to Nicholas' home when rumors began to circulate. There was little point in keeping her away now, as they knew Grindelwald was hunting for her, and though it had originally seemed prudent to keep her at a distance, now it seemed that strength in numbers was a better plan of action. It had not been lost on them that Grindelwald had never discovered Nicholas' home – a testament to the numerous spells and protections on the residence. More importantly though, Aberforth had been unable to bring himself to deliver the news, knowing that Arabella would likely be devastated, so it had fallen to Albus to explain the loss again. Arabella had immediately slapped him, as if the blow could halt the truth of it, and save her from the grief that awaited her. She had then collapsed into sobs, calling her sister's name fruitlessly. It was a display that Albus knew he'd never forget and that would likely haunt him all of his days. The grief would pass eventually, but the events would leave scars that only he would know were there.

Then came the owls. It was not unexpected that Lorelei's death would touch many people; she was well liked by her students and colleagues. Each post carried with it a kind sentiment with a proper motive, but the condolence letters somehow added salt to the open wounds left by her murder. There came a moment when Albus, patient and gentle man though he was, raged at the birds as if they had killed her, and swore to set all their feathers on fire if they didn't cease and desist their deliveries. Two of the feathered creatures turned tail and flew off without dropping their burdens, while another eyed him warily but dropped the card and winged away as fast as it could. Perenelle had patted his shoulder sympathetically, but it was not sympathy Albus desired: He only wanted time to reverse and Lorelei to return to him unharmed. Even with a time turner though, death was forever.

A memorial was held for Lorelei Figg at Hogwarts on the eighth day following her passing. Without another burial plot at the ready, it had seemed a natural solution to lay her to rest at the school that had so loved her. It seemed to Albus as if the entire student body had turned out for the memorial, and more than half of them dabbed at their eyes with kerchiefs and sniffed intermittently. Arabella attended with Albus, her grief-driven outburst having been forgiven even as it was delivered. The rest of the Figg family did not attend, as if Grindelwald's control was so complete that the death of the first-born child and eldest sister could go unnoticed – it was the reason why there was no other burial plot to be had for her in another location.

When the service was done, Albus sat motionless in his chair, trying to piece together what was to come next. Nicholas and Perenelle were seated to one side of him, Hagrid, Arabella, and Aberforth on the other, with Minerva, Nate, Howard and Elijah behind him. Nicholas had only just been released from St. Mungo's, and Elijah was only two days out.

"Albus," Nicholas called softly. "Would you like to return to France with us for a few days? I'm sure we could arrange it with Headmaster Dippet."

It seemed likely that the Headmaster could find a substitute for a few days, but some part of Albus balked at the idea. Perhaps it was the part of him that realized exams were almost upon them, or maybe it was the guilt that gnawed at him day and night and kept him from agreeing. "No," he answered finally. "My place is here."

The others nodded their understanding, but eyed him worriedly. He knew he looked gaunt and weary, but he didn't wait to let them argue. He stood, holding out a hand to Arabella to help her to her feet. "There is work to be done. The year is soon to close and exams are coming. I could not leave my students at the mercy of a substitute. Also, Lorelei wanted Grindelwald stopped, and I have allowed myself far too many hours without attending to that wish. It's time to keep my promise."

He turned and found himself face to face with Armando Dippet, who was wearing a grave expression. The headmaster was accompanied by Tom Riddle, the talented head boy who had once turned Hagrid in as the responsible party for the death of Myrtle Young.

"Professor Dumbledore," Dippet addressed him formally, probably for the sake of Riddle, "I was wondering if I might have a word regarding – umm – well that is to say..."

"Perhaps you'd like me to accompany you to your office?" Albus offered.

The head master inclined his head slightly as if to nod, but then changed direction abruptly. "I don't wish to take you from those friends who have come to support you at a difficult time. It is that which I was – well that is to say – I wanted to see about giving you some time off. Tom, here, has indicated an interest in possibly teaching in the future. I was thinking that perhaps he could substitute most of your classes for a couple of days – You'd have some time to spend with your friends, and he could see if teaching really suits him."

Albus turned his attention to Tom, though he could not read the boy, which was not unusual. It was a fact that unnerved him greatly, given recent events. "I do not wish to remove your opportunity to try your hand at teaching, Tom," he began as politely as possible. "However, I'm afraid I need to work right now. I did take a couple days, as you know, but it's very hard..." He didn't finish. He hardly felt he needed to explain, and yet, Tom's expression was briefly angry. "Perhaps -- well I know you haven't yet found a substitute for Lorelei, and Tom should be more than qualified to work in muggle studies..." He stopped abruptly. It was not his imagination. Tom looked almost seething now.

"Now don't worry, Albus," Dippet replied, reverting to his usual address. "I understand completely. Sometimes it is better to stay busy. Tom and I will discuss the possibility of covering Lorelei's position, though I have, most unfortunately, already posted to a potential substitute and was awaiting his response. Perhaps he could assist Professor Merrythought for a few days as that is the position he hopes someday to acquire."

Albus turned his attention back to Tom Riddle, though the boy's features were again unreadable. Albus knew that Merrythought was ready to retire, and he promised himself to find a private moment to dissuade Dippet from hiring Tom for the position. It was highly unusual to hire someone immediately after graduation, and, though Tom was very talented, Albus could probably convince the headmaster that the boy was still very immature and needed time to grow up before taking on such a huge responsibility.

For his own part, he definitely needed to stay busy. He could hunt Grindelwald in the evening hours and the weekends, and hopefully, between that and work, he would be too busy to think about Lorelei and how much he missed her. He knew he couldn't bear to watch the others grieve any more. It might be regarded as selfish, but he simply needed distance from it. Very few of the Hogwarts students realized the depth of his connection with Lorelei. Only a handful suspected they were seeing one another, and of those, none knew that she was pregnant, and planning a wedding. It had been in deference to Dippet that they had kept things between them very private. As for Tom Riddle, who must have known or suspected something of a relationship, Albus believed the boy to have very limited understanding of love. It was a sad fact, but true, nevertheless. The longer he knew him, the more Albus was troubled by the younger man's attitudes and coldness. But it was a problem to be addressed another day, if at all.

Albus thanked Dippet for his understanding and turned his attention back to his friends. "Hagrid," Albus said, "Would you like to return to France with Nicholas, or stay here."

Hagrid grumbled a barely coherent, "Stay here," and sniffed thickly before bursting once more into sobs. Albus tried to comfort him, fighting the urge to rush away and hide instead. He hardly knew what to do with his own grief, let alone that of others. And though he was responsible for Hagrid, the young man required less and less of his attention. Soon enough Hagrid would be an adult and Albus would once more be alone, unable to keep a larger set of rooms since he had no family. It hardly mattered that Hagrid held that position in his heart, or that he would trust Hagrid with his life; the law did not see the relationship and neither did the rules of Hogwarts, though Albus hoped someday to change that. Families sometimes defied convention, and yet the traditions of the ancient school did not allow room for a broader definition.

He hardly knew how he got through the last half hour in which Nicholas, Perenelle, Aberforth, Nate, Howard, and especially Arabella remained at Hogwarts. Minerva was the one exception. She seemed to understand inexplicably when to step back and when to draw closer, and though she cried, she didn't look to Albus for comfort or reassurance, but drew it from within instead. He supposed that they had enough in common to understand each other in that way. And if there were anyone he would want to substitute him in transfiguration, it would be Minerva and never Tom Riddle. But he did not voice those thoughts to anyone.

After the last of the guests were gone, and Hagrid had headed to tend some of his "intrest'in' creatures", a task which Albus knew the boy drew comfort from, Albus moved about his office as if possessed, gathering necessary articles for recreating the spelled mirror that would track Grindelwald's moves. It might have been impossible, if Minerva had not returned to the devastated laboratory on the evening Lorelei was killed, to retrieve pieces of the broken mirror. Her quick action had saved the trap entirely, making reconstitution of the mirror a possibility, even though she had not been able to repair the mirror or collect all the pieces.

Albus worked in the silence, enchanting the piece to melt into a new mirror, and taking the essence of the first to complete the same spells for the replacement. He had stood, staring at his own reflection for so long that he seemed to stare beyond it, and he saw a spector – an image of the woman he loved. Albus held his breath, more than mesmerized by the sight of her, though the thinking part of him had long ruled out the existence of such images without the actual ghost to accompany them. His foolishness even carried a hint of her voice, though he felt it rather than heard it – in the way that one senses foreboding without cause. "Elijah asked the right question." Had he heard right? But, no it could not be. Three more times he thought he heard those words, "Elijah asked the right question," before the fact that he'd held his breath caught up with him, and his lungs forced him to breathe painfully.

In the blink of an eye, the image had disappeared. Only the scent of lemon-verbena that suddenly tickled his senses gave him pause to wonder if he'd actually seen her. The fact left him stunned, and facing another sleepless night.

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