100quills prompt #21 - Near

He was near now. Ariana had been able to feel his presence approaching ever closer for almost a year; even though all he was was expectation, he commanded her thoughts and attention as he had done in life.

The train was there, waiting. Waiting to take her on to eternal rest – or the next great adventure, as he would say. Ariana didn't know if the shiny red train's final destination was an adventure or not, but she wasn't going to make the adventure alone. Not without Albus.

She'd lost her sanity at six, died at fifteen. Although the madness had cleared and Ariana saw this middle-road as it truly was, remnants of the trauma remained with her. She feared the unknown, feared change, and feared moving onwards without one of her brothers by her side.

So she'd stayed, and waited. Ariana had stayed in this strange in-between place for one hundred and fifty years, waiting and watching all the people go by. Some of them looked kind and generous, some looked scared, some looked guilty and yet others didn't believe that they were dead. Ariana had watched wistfully as people boarded their trains and went on, and had hoped that time here passed quickly.

And now her waiting was over. Ariana stood from the bench, warmed by being made her ethereal home for the many years she'd been delaying, and looked around. Surely he would appear close by. He had to.

Ariana knew from experienced observations that the farther away from the train one appeared, the more likely one was to return to the living world as a ghost. Ariana prayed out loud that Albus wouldn't want to do that. She couldn't bear to be parted from him again, but neither could she imagine an eternal return to the world that had caused her so much pain.

"I caused it," a low sad voice said. Ariana spun around, panicking for a moment – no one had spoken to her here in all the time she'd waited. She came face to face with an old, white-haired man.

His physical appearance had changed drastically since the last time Ariana had set eyes on him, and the proud sparkle of joy and arrogance in his eyes had disappeared. Nonetheless, Albus Dumbledore was as easy for Ariana to recognise as the day she died, and she flung her arms around him.

"I'm so sorry," Albus murmured, hugging her tight. "I'm so sorry I was a terrible brother to you, Ariana." Ariana looked up, and one of the tears running down Albus' cheek fell onto her forehead.

"I forgive you," she said, the childish innocence she'd had in life still lingering in her voice.

Ariana knew that in a few moments, Albus would ask her who cast the curse who killed her. But Ariana had had years to accept the identity of her accidental killer and she had no wish to dig the connecting emotions up again. However much Albus would wheedle and beg and even plead, Ariana knew that she would keep the knowledge to herself. No one needed to know. Not Albus, not Aberforth, not Gellert. It was a secret that Ariana had left behind in the world of life.