Written for the Snakes and Ladders Challenge on the HPFC forum. Prompt: Dumbledore (character). So, of course, I made it crack-y. Sorry, Ashleigh... "Albus was the happiest a man could be. So what did he possibly see when he looked into the Mirror of Erised?"

Disclaimer: I don't own the following excerpt from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone by J.K. Rowling, J.K. herself does. Aw...

"Professor Dumbledore. Can I ask you something?"

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks." Harry stared.

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

When Albus returned to his office that night, he immediately drew his memory of the conversation with Harry out of his mind with the tip of his wand and placed it in the Pensieve using a tiny bottle. Prodding the wispy white fibers of the memory, an image began to form in the cloudy waters of the gilded golden bowl. Albus quickly grabbed a stool from behind him and sat down in front of the cabinet in which his Pensieve was kept. Fawkes squawked from his perch behind Albus' desk.

"Keep it down over there," the wizard said to his phoenix. Fawkes ignited in response, and the scent of ashes filled the room. "Such a drama queen," he said to himself, combing his beard with his fingers. "Fawkes, I am well aware of your Burning Day schedule. There's no need to get so petulant about it ─ why, it's a natural part of life."

Now, to the task at hand, thought Albus. Staring down into his memory from only minutes before, he pondered Harry's query. Had he answered incorrectly? Dishonestly? It was hard to tell. The boy had given him scarcely a second to respond, and for the life of him Albus could not recall what the Mirror of Erised had shown him the last time he had looked into it. How could he tell what it would show him if he gazed into its depths today? His goals and aspirations, hopes and dreams had been fluid his entire life.

As a child, Albus wanted to be an Auror to avenge the death of his poor sister Ariana. At Hogwarts, he developed great ambition and dreamed of being the Minister of Magic ─ in turns with Gellert Grindelwald, of course. When Nicolas Flamel and him formed a partnership to create the Sorcerer's Stone, Albus contemplated the idea of immortality (he soon shot it down, though). He never wanted to be a teacher, let alone a headmaster. But in his current state, Albus was the happiest a man could be. So what did he possibly want for?

Albus considered, then revoked dozens of ideas. Time slowly oozed on, and Albus examined thousands of options.

Did he fancy, as the young people said, Minerva McGonagall? Preposterous.

Did he aspire to great fame and fortune? "Well," Albus remarked to himself, "you've already got that."

Did he wish that somehow, using whatever means necessary, that he could bring back his dead father? Albus knew that that wasn't so. Percival had been a hateful man, what with attacking those Muggle boys, and the past should not be tampered with. No, none of his ideas were true.

Albus watched the sun rise through the arched window at one end of his office and home. It was sad that he, said to be the greatest wizard ever seen in the wizarding world, could not even say what his greatest wish was. Albus sighed and decided to dress for breakfast ─ it would likely be served in the next hour, and he liked to be ready to greet his staff promptly at 7:30.

Dressing in his traditional black robes (the ones from the day before were unfit for repeat wear), and putting his bare feet into shoes, a thought suddenly appeared in Albus's head. He laughed at himself for ignoring such an obvious idea, and looked over to where Fawkes was sleeping. He laughed again, harder this time, so that tears started falling from his eyes. Albus removed his glasses and placed them on the table so that he could wipe tears freely.

"Socks," he said. "It was the socks all along."

That afternoon, Albus discreetly visited Madam Malkin's store outpost in the village of Hogsmeade. The madam herself was curious and confused at Dumbledore's arrival.

"Headmaster," she stuttered, honored at his presence. "What brings you here?"

She rarely saw the man, due to his busy schedule and lack of a need to purchase clothes from her humble shop. But today he didn't seem as serious, nor as jovial as he was known to be. A look of madness was apparent in his eyes.

"I am in need of socks!" he announced. "Bring me everything you've got!"

And so she did.