Ronald Weasely's dreams were often simple and more often than not they were about Quidditch. There were no storms in his dreams, just the blue, clear sky as he flew at grew speed upon his broom. He twirled, spun and did all those moves that sometimes he didn't quite have the nerve for. At some point in his flying, he felt he was being drawn down to the ground. He resisted for a time, but the pull kept getting stronger until eventually he had to obey.

He spiralled down out of the sky and touched once more upon the earth. The elder Dumbledore was just ahead of him, smiling and applauding. Ron's cheeks colored as he realized he'd been seen.

"You should do more flying like that, Mr. Weasely. I daresay you'd give Harry a run for his money as a second Seeker."

"D'you really think so, Professor?" Ron asked as he caught his breath.

"I do, indeed, my boy."

They walked a little distance away from the pitch while Ron's breath steadied. Finally Ron asked, "Can't say I've ever dreamed of you before, Professor Dumbledore. What are you doing here?"

"I was enjoying the fresh air." Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled. "What do you think of Hogwarts of my day, Ron?"

"Quite nice, actually. I wish we could get to know the students more. Oh! You fly really well, by the way, sir. Never knew you had that in you!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I love Quidditch, Ron. And flying, too. There is such freedom to be found in the air. Sometimes, it's the only freedom." They reached the lower stands and Ron put down his broom as he sat down beside the older wizard. "Ron, can you tell me about your friends?"

"What about them, sir?" asked Ron rather puzzled.

"Tell me how they are. Harry...?"

Ron grimaced. "He's having a tough time, professor. I think he'd like to stay, but Sirius is in the future, you know? Only real family he's got now."

"Too true, my child," sighed Dumbledore. "I wish we could make Harry realize that there is more to family than a blood kinship."

"I've tried. So has my mum, sir! Mum'd take Harry in a second, if she could. So would dad. Heck, I wouldn't even mind sharing my room."

"Your family, your parents, have an unlimited capacity for love. One of our strongest weapons against the darkness that attempts to overwhelm us."

For a moment they were both silent and then Dumbledore turned to the red-headed boy. "Ron, I need you to remember something for me, if you would?" Ron nodded, paying close attention to the headmaster. "You need to remember me."

Ron frowned. "Professor? I don't..."

Dumbledore just smiled gently at the boy. "Don't let anyone forget me, Mr. Weasely. It's important. Remember that."

Ron really didn't understand, but he felt deep down he didn't need to understand the why. He just needed to remember. He gave the headmaster a smile and nodded. With his acceptance, the Quidditch pitch and the stands melted away, leaving only the walls of the room he was sleeping in. Dumbledore tucked him in and he yawned as sleep finally drew over him.