Disclaimer- Not mine, except for my bits.

A/N- The 6th book never happened, okay?

It was over. Voldemort was dead and gone, and the wizarding world was at peace once more. But something was still bothering Harry- it had been for years.

Harry turned to Dumbledore. 'Professor,' he asked, 'may I ask you something?'

'Certainly, my boy,' Dumbledore returned, with an air of slight amusement. 'Ask away, though I do warn you, I may not grant you with an answer. Actually, that reminds me of an exceedingly funny joke I told Minerva yesterday- a witch, a hag and a mandrake all went into a bar, and-'

'Please, Professor,' Harry cut in desperately. Poor Dumbledore was getting old and just a tad senile, and though people did try to humour him, this was important. 'It's just…well, do you remember, after Cedric was killed, we had a… conversation?'

'Ah yes!' Dumbledore said gleefully. 'I remember it well- in 1994, if I'm not mistaken…wonderful year for Puddlemere United, that was, some really marvello-'

'Anyway, we had that conversation, Professor?' Harry broke in. Really, this was just downright irritating. 'And I mentioned that, because Voldemort had my blood now, he couldn't hurt me, rememb- Professor,' he pleaded, 'are you even listening?'

For Dumbledore was chuckling over his Pensieve. 'Ah, yes! Look at that, took the Snitch out from right under his nose, didn't he? Go on Harry, I am listening…'

Harry rolled his eyes and continued. 'Professor, I told you about Voldemort's blood, and….you got this look in your eye. This very distinctive….look.'

'No idea what you're talking about, my boy!' Dumbledore replied cheerily. 'Have a Cockroach Cluster? They might be slightly stale, but that really does impro-'

'PROFESSOR!' Harry howled. 'STOP avoiding the subject! DON'T pretend you don't know what I'm talking about! I'M ONTO YOU, OLD MAN!'

Dumbledore just looked faintly amused.

'I HAVE PROOF!' Harry waved a volume of his biography under Dumbledore's nose. 'See here, book four, chapter thirty four, page 604, fourth paragraph down-'

'I get the general picture,' interrupted Dumbledore.

Triumphantly, Harry held the book aloft, and read,

' "FOR A FLEETING INSTANT, HARRY THOUGHT HE SAW A GLEAM OF SOMETHING LIKE TRIUMPH, THAT'S RIGHT YOU IMBECILIC SENIOR, TRIUMPH, IN DUMBLEDORE'S EYES." So DON'T try and deny it, you old drooling pensioner!' Harry bellowed. 'I'll have you in Azkaban! I'll set Dudley on you with the rifle he got for Christmas! I'll….I'll…'

'My dear boy,' Dumbledore said soothingly. He nodded slightly at the St Mungo's staff near the doorway. 'I think you need to calm down…you're just making something out of nothing, you know…'

'I WON'T calm down!' Harry called as the nurses dragged him away. 'YOU'VE ALWAYS HAD IT IN FOR ME! ONE DAY….' His voice trailed off as he was shepherded through a door.

Dumbledore shook his head ruefully at Dr. Granger. 'A pity…he could have been so brilliant. But the paranoia finally got to him.'

Dr Granger's eyes started to fill with tears. 'There, there,' Dumbledore said gently, and patted her on the shoulder. 'Have a Cockroach Cluster?'