Dumbledore is a man that is universally recognized as who was hard to faze. Through the years he had seen the shy children that he took into his school grow from tiny little first years, into some of the powerful, and sometimes terrible, wizards of their age. He watched as one of the most powerful of his former students, a man so fearsome his very name was never spoken, be thwarted again and again by a young schoolboy. He had even seen McGonagall dancing on a table half-naked with an embarrassed Hagrid, something that made the dropping off of the infant Harry awkward for the two of them (After the defeat of Voldemort,everybody got drunk).

But nothing so strange as this.

He had been sitting in his office, wondering what to do. He could currently find no one willing to take over as a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for his school, and found himself in desperate straights. Any other time he wouldn't have worried as much. But any other time he wouldn't have to worry about the likes of Dolores Umbridge coming into Hogwarts for the first time since she had actually attended.

The toady little woman was using the backing of Educational Decree Number Twenty-Two to force her way into his school. He already knew what would happen. The silly woman would come into his school, and teach his students exactly what she felt was necessary. Which, considering her limited skills in magic, would be little to nothing useful unless she felt it would give her power over the students. And while she was at it she would try to force herself into every facet of the school, just looking for a reason to tell Fudge about some little thing that would get Dumbledore to surrender his position as headmaster.

"The little bitch can try."

Fawkes gave Dumbledore a startled look at the expletive from his perch next to Dumbledore's desk, as did several headmasters paintings. He gave a small smile.

"Umbridge."

With that single word all was well. They each gave him sympathetic look before going back to sleep, or at least decently pretending to.

In all honesty though, Dolores was nothing more than a distraction. The woman would be annoying sure. But Voldemort was still on the horizon, spreading his lies and hatred through magical Britain. Umbridge wouldn't be good for Hogwarts, sure. But Voldemort would rain down hell on the castle if he could. This put the toad-like woman firmly in the 'unimportant' category most days, a problem to deal with when it came.

But he had time today. The Order had their... orders. The teachers were back from their vacations (Except for Professor Binns, who spent everyday of summer teaching in his classroom as if every student was there. No one had the heart to tell the senile ghost otherwise) For the first time in a long time, Albus Dumbledore was free. So he spent the time thinking on how to deal with the upstart that was planning to dominate his school.

Was it a bad idea to spend his first real free time in five years thinking about more work? Probably. But he was old, and damnit he had earned the right to a few bad ideas!

And as he stood there, aimlessly going from plotting ways to keep Umbridge out of school, to way he could creatively move her out of the picture entirely (No, no, there is no slave trade in the world who accept that on their doorstep) a boy suddenly appeared on the floor just in front of his desk.

More accurately he appeared in the air and crashed on his head.

"OW! What the fu...OWWW!" The boy rolled around on the floor in utter pain. Dumbledore had his wand in his hand before he even landed, more then ready for any attack the boy would make.

Though he wasn't really a boy Dumbledore realized. He was more a young man, maybe over twenty, and a little under six feet tall. He wiped black hair, unruly enough to put even Harry Potters impossible mop to shame out his eyes. When he looked around the room there was utter confusion on his face.

Dumbledore relaxed as he took note of several things the boy was missing that would point to him being an assassin.

For one thing, he was dressed in blue pajamas, and was half-covered in a blanket, which meant he had probably been sleeping before he had come here. For another he had come in with almost no sound, and not only was it impossible to apparate silently, the powerful magic within Hogwarts kept all but House Elves from using such magic within the school. And last, he had absolutely no magic in him.

The boy was a Muggle.

Dumbledore had no idea how he had gotten into the school, but it was rather easy to fix. A simple Memory Charm and-

"Dumbledore?"

He froze. The intruder, in a moment of complete impossibility, knew who he was. And apparently his knowledge wasn't limited as he turned to the phoenix on the perch next to the desk.

"Fawkes?" The little bird looked more then ready to fall to the ground in surprise.

"What the hell kind of-" He left the rest of his words unsaid, simply staring around in bewilderment. He groaned and grabbed his head once more. "Oh man. No more Order of Phoenix before bed."

That was more then enough. The boy was lifted of the ground by an invisible force. When he turned his head Dumbledore was lifting him up with an unspoken wingardium leviosa and giving him a measured look, simply taking in what he saw before him before speaking.

"How do you know our names? I can tell you're not a wizard, so how on earth do you know of us?"

The response he got was unexpected. "Pinch me."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, completely perplexed. "Pinch you?"

"Yeah. I'd pinch myself to see if this was a dream, but..." The boy shrugged helplessly. "I don't like pain."

"And why would you think this is a dream?" Said an increasingly perplexed Dumbledore.

"Because apparently one of the most famous fictional characters of all time is standing before me asking me why I think I'm having a dream."

In some deep part of his mind, Dumbledore wondered if Harry was spreading whatever it was that attracted weirdness to the bespectacled boy...