Title: Footsteps

Rating: G

Genre: Humour

Summary: A professor walks to a destination thinking random thoughts...

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Harry Potter; that pleasure goes to JK Rowling

A/N: Although I love the plotless fic there is a point; somewhere down the line! Warning - this has not been beta-ed. If anyone wants the lovely job just e-mail me at krazyaliens@graffiti.net ... thanks!

Chapter I - The Madness That Muggle Sweets Create

The tall man stood outside his office and carefully locked his door. Although it was nice to have visitors there was always a time and a place.

He turned and slowly walked along the empty corridor. If there had been an observer they might have observed that his gracefulness came from age and wisdom, rather than merely being taught.

His eyes sparkled as he dug into one of his many pockets of his robe for a small paper bag and popped one of the contents into his mouth. It was nice that they had (finally) decided to sell them in the Honeydukes down in Hogsmeade, he chuckled, as he thought about their arrival to the village sweet shop. It meant that he didn't have to make the long journey to the nearest muggle village…

... For some reason (and we will not get into it here); the black-haired, green-eyed person best known as Harry Potter, had acquired one of the joys of muggle sweets - bonbons. And for another bizarre reason Professor Snape had not turned up in the dungeons as the clock moved towards eleven o'clock (His wife had demanded him to stay put to make him listen to her. She had been complaining about why he didn't spend as much time with their children as he did issuing his pupils with detention. Sometimes the only way to get into his thick skull was to shout at him ... well, there was another way, but Mrs Snape had the power in the Snape household and Severus knew it as much as his kids did ... but anyways, back to the sub-story).

"Can I have one of those, Harry?" said the ginger-headed boy whose appetite never seemed to diminish.

"Sure, Ron." Said Harry. "Just dig in."

Soon most of the table each had one of these amazing bonbons (lemon in flavour).

Suddenly a pale hand dove into the paper bag so swiftly that Harry was unable to hold the bag out of reach. "What on earth are these? The powder is flying everywhere," spoke a dissatisfied tone.

Harry spoke like he was talking to a toddler. "'These' are sweets, Malfoy." The other boy had popped it straight into his mouth without even thinking ('We should really try out one of George and Fred's sweets on him' thought Ron. He would keep that in mind)

"Yumm," from the look on Malfoy's face he enjoyed them, but this look vanished when he realised he couldn't speak. "Umm!"

Ron's grin was full of unsuspressed mirth, and he sighed dramatically. "Silence is Golden."

Harry's grin had also grown, as he answered the unspoken question on the blonde's face. "George and Fred didn't create them - in fact they don't even have magic in them! You are eating the joy of muggle toffee," Harry announced, and turned to see Ron's face turning a rather unflattering shade of purple.

Hermione, during all this if you are wondering where she had got to, was simply giggling, her eyes trained mostly on the door (and partly Ron's increasingly purple face) instead of Malfoy's version of lock-jaw. She had a feeling that Snape would come through the door any second.

A loud swallow announced Malfoy's return of speech, but was unable to say anything as Snape made his entrance, ashened faced. He hurriedly dictated the lesson plan.

"Sit down and get your textbooks out. Turn to page one hundred and twenty seven..."

Harry was (as usual when Snape was in a paddy toddler's mood – often caused by 'conversations' with his wife) made to work with Malfoy and although Harry didn't mention it, he was positive that the same hand as before carefully sneak into the paper bag at least twice more...

A month later...

Honeyduke's sales had decreased by three percent over the past month.

The owner of an impressive mop of grey hair (and, by the way, the sweetshop), Mr Greengrass, shook his head at his son (who was only known as EG). "What could have caused this? Children are always sweet-toothed. It's like saying a baby doesn't like milk. It's just not natural." Mr Greengrass' shaking head was now placed in his hands.

EG, who wasn't so completely detached from the student population as his father, offered the man a sweet.

Mr Greengrass started to chew without even looking at it (if it wasn't for that extra-extra-strong toothpaste all his teeth would have been rotten by now). "These are quite nice. Why don't we sell them?"

EG shook his head. They said wisdom came with age, but it seemed to not quite work with Mr Greengrass. "It is the reason for the drop in sales. The kids seem to have found these muggle sweets, Dad."

Mr Greengrass became excited. "So what are you waiting for, lad? Get an order in!"...

Now where was I? Oh, yes...

The older (he didn't really liked to be called 'old' - he was very young in mind and spirit) man's footsteps echoed on the cold stone slabs that made the floor of the long corridor. He would prefer carpet, but then there was the evil muggle invention that always managed to sneak into the castle, no matter how many banishing charms you put around the place.

Chewing-Gum.

He dare not think of the caretaker's response to such a terrible incident.

The man - excluding the stone floor, of course - loved this place, and rightfully (as some of the students did) considered it home. He was here eleven months of the year (the other month off on a well deserved holiday in North Wales with his family, which he enjoyed incredibly - why I do not know ... it always rains when I go there).

I'm losing myself again ... footsteps...

He could move his office closer to this destination, a little voice inside his head spoke, but he liked the exercise, he reminded himself, as he climbed up and down stairs - there was never a direct route in this castle ... must be something about protecting itself against attack, he pondered to himself. Soon, through the mists of his thoughts, he arrived in the entrance hall, which lead to the Great Hall and the Georgian style staircase that kept spitting into new staircases right up to the seventh floor. At the point where the staircase first divided, the almost permanent twinkle in the man's eyes grew. Even the Weasley twins did not know about this secret passageway - it was unplottable (hay! A whole school can be made unplottable, but a door cannot? Pah! ... Sorry 'bout that). Anyways...

He positioned his arm in front of him and imagined a door opening as he turned the doorknob.

Through the door was a corridor bathed in the late summer sun, with thick, carpeted floors, the man thought with glee. The previously silent area was now full with the sounds of children laughing and playing, which filled the older man's heart with hope.

A small, red-haired bullet suddenly shot at him from a door at his right (and although the man's robe got in the way, the boy had had lots of practice), managed to latch himself on the man's left leg.

"Gran'pa!" The toddler cried out, giggling madly as Professor Dumbledore continued along the corridor, ignoring the extra weight he now had on his leg. Maybe people were right and a slight madness did run in the family.

"Hi, Sam."

A/N I know that the Professors' love/family lives are never really mentioned in the books, but I very much doubt that they are all detached from life as we know it!