The Owlery
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(no subject)
Dumbledore had been a little surprised by Bar’s request, but willing enough to try something new. He finds that being on this side of the Bar gives one an interesting vantage point.
The specials board is written up in loopy, old-fashioned handwriting:
Tea
Raspberry Milkshake
Ogden’s Old Firewhisky
And, inexplicably, there is a tray on the bar bearing an ever-growing herd of small spun sugar goats.
While he waits for customers, Dumbledore waves his wand over a large dish of sugar that is sitting on the Bar. A ribbon of sugar rises from the dish and twists and turns about on itself for a few moments until it forms a small and delicate goat-shaped mass.
Another flick of the wand sends it to the tray with the rest of the herd.
They’ll be good in the tea.
The specials board is written up in loopy, old-fashioned handwriting:
Tea
Raspberry Milkshake
Ogden’s Old Firewhisky
And, inexplicably, there is a tray on the bar bearing an ever-growing herd of small spun sugar goats.
While he waits for customers, Dumbledore waves his wand over a large dish of sugar that is sitting on the Bar. A ribbon of sugar rises from the dish and twists and turns about on itself for a few moments until it forms a small and delicate goat-shaped mass.
Another flick of the wand sends it to the tray with the rest of the herd.
They’ll be good in the tea.
(no subject)
There are many tea invitations that herald nothing more than an hour or two of polite chatting and no complications beyond choosing which flavor of jam to put on one’s scone.
An invitation from the Minister of Magic is never one of them.
But Dumbledore had readily gone down to London, because the fact of the matter is that they are living in complicated times. And the troubles with Voldemort are growing steadily, insidiously worse.
It had been sheer happenstance that Dumbledore had run into one of his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professors in a corridor. Marlene McKinnon, now an Auror with the Ministry. And he had gladly accepted her invitation to join her and her family for dinner.
Marlene’s husband, Ian, had looked a bit taken aback at the sight of their guest, but they had passed an altogether pleasant evening. Talk of Quidditch, admiring the work the Marlene and Ian had done to their home, and amusing anecdotes about Hogwarts and the McKinnons’ small daughter.
At least until after dinner, when the dishes had been cleared and Ian had gone to put the baby to bed.
Dumbledore settled into a chair in the sitting room, his glass of firewhisky cradled lightly in his hands, and fixed Marlene with a look that was as sharp as it was pleasant.
“So, tell me, Marlene. How are things in the Auror’s Office?”
An invitation from the Minister of Magic is never one of them.
But Dumbledore had readily gone down to London, because the fact of the matter is that they are living in complicated times. And the troubles with Voldemort are growing steadily, insidiously worse.
It had been sheer happenstance that Dumbledore had run into one of his former Defense Against the Dark Arts professors in a corridor. Marlene McKinnon, now an Auror with the Ministry. And he had gladly accepted her invitation to join her and her family for dinner.
Marlene’s husband, Ian, had looked a bit taken aback at the sight of their guest, but they had passed an altogether pleasant evening. Talk of Quidditch, admiring the work the Marlene and Ian had done to their home, and amusing anecdotes about Hogwarts and the McKinnons’ small daughter.
At least until after dinner, when the dishes had been cleared and Ian had gone to put the baby to bed.
Dumbledore settled into a chair in the sitting room, his glass of firewhisky cradled lightly in his hands, and fixed Marlene with a look that was as sharp as it was pleasant.
“So, tell me, Marlene. How are things in the Auror’s Office?”
James Potter Birthday Tea
Dumbledore smiles across the tea table at his guest.
It’s rare that Dumbledore gets extensive one-on-one time with his students. It’s one of the reasons he makes room in what is not exactly a light schedule for these birthday teas. You can learn a great deal about a person in between passing preserves and buttering crumpets.
He’s very interested at what he might learn today.
“Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore passes over a cup of tea. “You seem to be having a…..memorable birthday.”
It’s rare that Dumbledore gets extensive one-on-one time with his students. It’s one of the reasons he makes room in what is not exactly a light schedule for these birthday teas. You can learn a great deal about a person in between passing preserves and buttering crumpets.
He’s very interested at what he might learn today.
“Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore passes over a cup of tea. “You seem to be having a…..memorable birthday.”
The Headmaster's Office: 16 March, 1977
The Headmaster of Hogwarts stands at the window of his office, looking out over his school.
This is the sort of day when Dumbledore does not like his job.
In a castle full of adolescents, a certain amount of chaos and disorder is just a given. Young people are impulsive. They don’t always think. They quarrel and fight. Sometimes they can be out and out mean. All normal pitfalls on the road to adulthood.
But what Mulciber and Avery allegedly did to Miss McDonald yesterday was beyond the norm. Disturbingly and distressingly so. Dumbledore had been informed of the incident as soon as he had returned from London – before he had even gotten his cloak off. He already knows what the only reasonable outcome of this situation is likely to be, but as Headmaster, he needs to hear all sides possible.
He’s already spoken to the boys and to Miss McDonald. Now Dumbledore is waiting to speak to a key witness to the event.
She should be here any time.
This is the sort of day when Dumbledore does not like his job.
In a castle full of adolescents, a certain amount of chaos and disorder is just a given. Young people are impulsive. They don’t always think. They quarrel and fight. Sometimes they can be out and out mean. All normal pitfalls on the road to adulthood.
But what Mulciber and Avery allegedly did to Miss McDonald yesterday was beyond the norm. Disturbingly and distressingly so. Dumbledore had been informed of the incident as soon as he had returned from London – before he had even gotten his cloak off. He already knows what the only reasonable outcome of this situation is likely to be, but as Headmaster, he needs to hear all sides possible.
He’s already spoken to the boys and to Miss McDonald. Now Dumbledore is waiting to speak to a key witness to the event.
She should be here any time.
(no subject)
Being both a pillar and a bastion of the wizarding community comes with certain responsibilities. A lot of them, in fact, some of which Albus Dumbledore finds more enjoyable than others.
But playing Father Christmas for the children’s ward at St. Mungo’s Hospital is nothing but good fun. Which is why Dumbledore looks exceptionally happy when he comes into Milliways today, decked out in red and green velvet, white fur, springs of holly and bells.
He jingles quite festively as he walks through the bar, swinging his sack and humming Ding Dong Merrily On High as he goes.
But playing Father Christmas for the children’s ward at St. Mungo’s Hospital is nothing but good fun. Which is why Dumbledore looks exceptionally happy when he comes into Milliways today, decked out in red and green velvet, white fur, springs of holly and bells.
He jingles quite festively as he walks through the bar, swinging his sack and humming Ding Dong Merrily On High as he goes.
New Teacher Tea
It’s the beginning of a new year at Hogwarts. A time for sharpening the quills, sewing name tags in robes, new books, fresh wands, and dusting cobwebs from the brain.
And, for Dumbledore, a time to sit down with the new teachers to see how their first week has gone.
The tea table is set up in the Headmaster’s study. The windows are open to a warm breeze. On the sideboard, a collection of delicate silver devices quietly chirp, whir, and occasionally spout steam. And a phoenix, sitting on a golden perch, watches over the proceedings with lazy, half-closed eyes.
Dumbledore smiles and waves his guest to the purple cushioned chairs.
“Cecilia. Lerwick. No need to stand on ceremony. Please, sit.”
And, for Dumbledore, a time to sit down with the new teachers to see how their first week has gone.
The tea table is set up in the Headmaster’s study. The windows are open to a warm breeze. On the sideboard, a collection of delicate silver devices quietly chirp, whir, and occasionally spout steam. And a phoenix, sitting on a golden perch, watches over the proceedings with lazy, half-closed eyes.
Dumbledore smiles and waves his guest to the purple cushioned chairs.
“Cecilia. Lerwick. No need to stand on ceremony. Please, sit.”
A Bit Of A Ramble
Hogwarts is quiet of a summer evening.
Not silent, of course. A few of the teachers are about. As are the house elves. Several of the people in the portraits have, in the absence of the students, gathered for a somewhat raucous party in the large painting of the Viking hall on the fourth floor landing. And Peeves is taking advantage of the acoustics in the Great Hall to practice a musical ode to bangers and mash.
(The lyrics are questionable, but the tune is catchy. Enough so that Dumbledore is humming it as he walks through the castle.)
But the usual bustle and buzz are absent, and for now Hogwarts feels like any other house with all the children gone. A bit larger and more rambly than one usually notices that it is.
They’ll be back soon, of course. In the matter of a few short weeks.
Dumbledore’s steps follow old, familiar paths through the castle. He has, after all, been walking these corridors for decades. Yet the wonderful thing about Hogwarts is that there are still always surprises along the way.
Such as when the steps through a door on the first floor near the hospital wing.
And finds himself somewhere quite surprising indeed.
Not silent, of course. A few of the teachers are about. As are the house elves. Several of the people in the portraits have, in the absence of the students, gathered for a somewhat raucous party in the large painting of the Viking hall on the fourth floor landing. And Peeves is taking advantage of the acoustics in the Great Hall to practice a musical ode to bangers and mash.
(The lyrics are questionable, but the tune is catchy. Enough so that Dumbledore is humming it as he walks through the castle.)
But the usual bustle and buzz are absent, and for now Hogwarts feels like any other house with all the children gone. A bit larger and more rambly than one usually notices that it is.
They’ll be back soon, of course. In the matter of a few short weeks.
Dumbledore’s steps follow old, familiar paths through the castle. He has, after all, been walking these corridors for decades. Yet the wonderful thing about Hogwarts is that there are still always surprises along the way.
Such as when the steps through a door on the first floor near the hospital wing.
And finds himself somewhere quite surprising indeed.