Word count:255

Aberforth looked at his sister picture, tears in his eyes. It was easy to blame Albus for her death, easy to pretend;but sometimes it just hurt. It hurt because because no matter how much he said it, his brother was not the guilty one. No matter how much he blamed him, Aberforth would still be the guilty one.

He was the reason their sister had died, but he had never told Albus that. No, he had let him live with the doubt and guilt because he had believed that Albus didn't care. That he had just moved on with his life and forgotten Ariana. That he had forgotten their past.

So Aberforth hadn't said anything. And each time his brother visited he had made sure to let his contempt known.

And now Albus was dead. Gone. The only other person from the Dumbledore family, his only other living relative was dead. And he was alone. No more visits from his brother to check up on him. No more guilty feelings that jmhe hadn't told the truth.

And somehow that made him to feel even more guilty than he already felt. Because it was not easy to live with the fact that your brother died thinking he was a murderer, a murderer for a crime you committed.

Not easy at all. He wished he could take everything back, every spiteful words. Everything. Apologise.

Albus had been his brother. He should have behaved differently, but now it was too late. Much too late to change anything.