Time in a Bottle – Jim Croce

If I could save time in a bottle
The first thing that I'd like to do
Is to save every day
Til' eternity passes away
Just to spend them with you

If I could make days last forever
If words could make wishes come true
I'd save every day like a treasure and then
Again, I would spend them with you

But there never seems to be enough time
To do the things you want to do
Once you find them
I've looked around enough to know
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with

If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true
The box would be empty
Except for the memory
Of how they were answered by you

Albus Dumbledore sat alone in his office with his eyes closed, his hands folded under his chin and his heart heavy. An ancient box lay open on his desk, dusty with dirt and age.

He opened his eyes. It was still there.

From his seat he could see a faded bit of purple silk ribbon and a corner of paper. He suspected if he turned it over it would be an old-fashioned photograph of him as a boy, sitting with her; his brother crouched on the ground near them.

He heaved a great sigh and reached for the box. It made a scraping sound over his desk and he stared at the purple ribbon, nearly afraid to touch it. He waved his wand and it rose gingerly, twisting and writhing in the air in front of him.

He sniffed at it. Just a faint dusty smell. It had been far too long for perfume to linger.

He carefully lifted the thick paper and set it aside without looking at it. If he started looking at the photo now it would take forever to go through the contents of the box.

Some recent changes to the Quidditch field had required the relocation of a low stone wall. It was then that the box had been found, protected from light and air by a shielding charm.

Filch had, of course, brought it directly to the Headmaster. Anything could be in that box, who knew what was guarding it?

Dumbledore had thanked Filch, instantly knowing what it was and instantly regretting putting the damned thing in the wall in the first place. He had tried to forget it through the years, and in time it's presence in plain sight faded in his priorities. It had been years since he had even thought of it, even with her in plain sight.

Dumbledore peered into the box, adjusting the gold-rimmed glasses on the end of his nose. He was a bit hazy on what he had put in the infernal thing, but he remembered he had thought they would be important. At least he had the sense to seal the box so the picture hadn't been damaged. He was a bit emotional at the time.

There was a deep red velvet pouch, standing out among the other tiny packets and boxes. He certainly had been thorough in his youth, and he chuckled to himself. Gads, what was all this?

Dumbledore opened the pouch and a shiny flat black rock deeply etched with an arrow fell into his palm. The tip pointed up towards his fingertips, as it always had in the past. He had forgotten he had put his lucky rune in here. How much else had he forgotten?

He gave the rune a satisfactory pat before putting it on the corner of his desk. A small wooden box was the next thing he went for. The hinges opened with a creak and an antique broach in it fell out. Dumbledore picked it up in shock. The emblem of the Appleby Arrows Quidditch team was patterned in silver on it, it's shine dulled to a deep gray.

He thought this had gone back to Owens in the end. He heard that his family immigrated to Greece in the 1960's. Perhaps he was still alive and would like his pin back. He certainly would if it had been his pin.

What a petty trick to play on a Year mate.

No matter how obnoxious he had been.

Perhaps the trick hadn't been so bad after all, considering. Dumbledore snorted and placed it near his rune, both arrows pointing in the same direction.

Perhaps this wasn't going to be that bad after all. Perhaps he hadn't been so melancholy as to dedicate the entire contents of the box to her. He certainly had been morose for months.

The next pouch revealed a bit of sand and broken glass.

Dumbledore felt his shoulders slump and he took a deep breath.

Typical teenage angst. He didn't know why it got to him so much now. He should have gotten over all this a long time ago.

1857

"Albus!"

Aberforth Dumbledore ran down a stone corridor in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his hard heeled shoes clicking on the floor as he hurried to catch up with his older brother. His thick black school robes and full book bag didn't help his speed. He prayed he wouldn't trip and sprawl in front of all the students rushing to their different classes.

He could see his brother's thick red hair, tied with a purple ribbon to keep it tame the waves he constantly tried to straighten. If he started the descent down the stairs to the dungeons Aberforth would never catch up.

"Albus!" Aberforth called out, annoyed as he saw Albus laughing at whatever it was his friend had said, obviously oblivious to his brother's attempts at catching his attention.
Aberforth saw his brother's friend turn to him.

At least one of them was capable of hearing. Aberforth thought grumpily. Albus finally looked in his direction, halting his stride and waiting for his younger brother to catch up.

Both brothers had their father's long, straight nose, but Aberforth had taken mother's dusky tones, where Albus had inherited their father's pale skin. Where Aberforth had dark, wild red hair, Albus had wavy, carrot-colored hair. Albus stood a head taller, but there was no telling what two more years of growing would do for Aberforth.

"I'll catch up with you," Albus said to his friend and waved him on. The short, black haired boy nodded before giving Aberforth a small wave and descending down the stairs.

"I really think you ought to see this," said Aberforth, panting slightly.

"I have to go to divination," Albus said in an annoyed tone. "And O.W.L.s are this year for you. What are you doing mucking about instead of going to class?"

"Pah," said Aberforth, waving a hand and trying to catch his breath. "I was in class when I found it. I just had Care of Magical Creatures."

Albus waited for his brother to continue on. Hopefully he had not decided to take the afternoon off instead of finishing his class schedule. Their mother would kill Albus if his younger brothers' academic attendance looked anything like last terms.

"We were doing Bundinums in the forest," said Aberforth. "There was this funny 'bang-pop' sound and a flash of red light from the forest."

Albus furrowed his eyebrows and followed his brother, who had begun walking back the way he had come.

"Professor Jacobson went to investigate and he found a girl," Aberforth said hurriedly.

"What?" Albus asked, surprised. "Who was it? What were they doing?"

"Good question," said Aberforth with a panicked look. "She was wearing Hogwarts robes, but not like any I've ever seen. She had this in her hand. I got it before Jacobsen saw it, thank God."

Aberforth passed Dumbledore a small green pouch that jingled. He opened it and revealed its's contents: sand and broken glass. Something glinted gold in the bright torch light and Albus pulled it out.

A long gold chain hung from his hands. Where a pendant would be, there was a circle of gold with what looked like a broken hourglass in it.

"Father's experiment," Albus breathed. "How did she get hold of it?"

"I think the better question to ask is: when did she get hold of it?" Aberforth said as they hurried to the newly built hospital wing.

"Excellent point," Albus said seriously. He wracked his brain to find an excuse get in to see her.