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Albus had never been sure of what awaited him upon death: it could have been nothing, it could have been a utopian afterlife or some kind of hell, perhaps he’d simply be reincarnated: but what he had to admit was that, of all things, not once had he imagined a Bowling Alley.
And yet, a Bowling Alley was where he found himself. Brightly lit in blues and reds, a restaurant in the back, families and groups of teenagers laughing away as they competed in other lanes, it was an honest to Merlin Bowling Alley. Albus himself even wore red bowling shoes and his muggle best, a velvet suit and purple tie. While he’d hoped, in truth, to be reunited with his mother, his father and, most of all Ariana, to apologise, he supposed there could be worse places to spend eternity.
“There there Professor, you’ll still get to see your family, this isn’t the end.” Dumbledore spun around to see, of all people, Harry Potter sat on a bench beside the balls. Harry just as he left him at that: sixteen years old with James’ messy dark hair and face, Lily’s lovely green eyes and round glasses perched on his nose. He wore a dark blue t-shirt, jeans and Bowling shoes, nothing unusual there, but what was, was his face. Harry had a content, relaxed smile on, an expression he’d scarcely seen on the boy for several years, and were he not so confused, Albus felt he might have smiled too.
“Harry my boy,” he greeted genially. “Not that I’m not pleased to see you, but I must confess that I’d hoped it not be quite so soon.”
Harry just grinned, another expression Albus had scarcely seen from the boy, but one he was very familiar with from James Potter. “Not to worry Professor, I survived that night and many nights after, defeated Voldemort and lived a long, happy life afterwards.”
Albus frowned, bemused. “It would seem then that the afterlife is less than linear.”
Harry chuckled. “Oh, it mostly is you’ll find, not me though. “ He looked distant. “Remember the Hallows Professor? Well turns out there was something to them after all because the day I died an old man, I woke up again. Woke up far, far in the past, watching the first living thing be born, and when they died I met them like I’m meeting you now, and I’ve done so ever since. “
“The Hallows made you Death?” he gasped. “But simultaneously, you were always Death?”
Harry shrugged. “I don’t know Professor. I’ve been around a long, long time, longer than you can hope to imagine, but there are things not even I know. I can’t say I’ve ever given out any Hallows though, so perhaps I’m just Harry and Death is out there still, or perhaps I am Death and just don’t remember, or perhaps I’m as much Harry as I am Death and I’m both at once.”
Albus chucked. “It would seem, my boy, that whatever else, longevity has gifted you a way with words. Regardless, I must ask, what is this place? Why a Bowling Alley, and if this is as you say not the end, what next?”
Harry grinned again. “Now that, Professor, I can answer. The Bowling Alley is an illusion I suppose, a place I chose, or perhaps I didn’t choose, I confess I’m not certain, to make you comfortable. This place has a lot of names and a lot of forms. Sometimes it’s a train station, others a lift, or a boat, it’s even been a Volcano once or twice. Regardless, this place goes by a lot of names: purgatory, the in-between, the Otherworld, and the River Styx come to mind. I just call it the waiting room myself. It’s where everyone waits, after all, waits while they talk to me. And once we’re done talking you’ll pick up a Bowling ball and throw it and score a perfect strike, and you’ll move on to the next great adventure.”
“Fascinating, most fascinating,” Albus beamed, always a lover of learning. “So we are to speak are we?”
“Aren’t we already?”
“I suppose we are my boy,” Albus smiled. “May I ask what became, or I suppose what may yet become of Tom?”
Harry sighed, visibly saddened for the first time since they’d met. “Tom made his choice. I offered him one last chance, begged him to feel remorse, but he refused. So when the Elder wand struck down its false master, his soul was in pieces, tatters. I’m afraid he'll be stuck here in this waiting room, my waiting room, until the day he feels enough remorse that I can put his soul back together and send him on.”
“A pity,” Albus said gloomily. “For all his evils, I had wished even him a peaceful afterlife.”
“Cheer up Albus,” Harry grinned again, suddenly dispelling the melancholy from his face, getting to his feet and clapping the older man on the shoulder. “There are many more things to smile than mope about. Ariana can’t wait to hug you, you know, to tell you herself she forgives you, and Kendra and Percival are waiting to let you know how proud they are of the man you became, of all the great things you’ve done. And there are many more old colleagues and students and friends and mentors who want to say hello. There are so many lives you’ve touched in so many wonderful ways.”
Albus found himself tearing up. “Thank you, Harry, though if I may say, you seem to have grown into a man more wondrous than I could ever hope to. “
Harry chuckled. “Well I don’t know about that, it’s just my job, but Hermione once taught me this fantastic muggle quote: If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of Giants.”
“Wise words indeed,” Albus found himself blushing. Then he cleared his expression and his thoughts. “As it happens Harry, I find myself ready to move on now.”
“Excellent!” Harry grinned. “Well then Albus, give it your best shot.”
Albus reached to his side and grasped a green bowling ball. He turned to the lane, strode forward and readied himself, eyeing up the centre pin in the distance. And Albus pulled back his arm, swung it forwards again and released his ball onto the lane with a thump. It careened downwards at speed, remaining perfectly into the centre, and struck with force, knocking every pin down, and the world exploded into white, and the last thing Albus heard was Harry’s loud cheer.