Disclaimer; I do not own Harry Potter (though I do own the nickname:
Dumbly)
Summery: Dumbledore writes a letter to his wife explaining why they no longer can be together.
A/N: once again I am bored. I wrote this with Tizzo. Enjoy, and review! (no flames!)
Title: Confessions of the Elderly
Dear wife,
I have a bit of a confession to make. I think a divorce may be in store, it's not me it's you. No, actually, it is me. So anyway, it all started in Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts. I felt a strange feeling in the bottom of my soul. It took me a while to realize it was lust. He was gorgeous. Those brilliant green eyes, and that "come on and fuck me" hair. I couldn't resist. By the time that he was in second year, I had no choice but to call that 'six-packed hunk of meaty love' up into my office. I asked him as always if something was wrong. And as always, he said no. I told him to take off his shirt. I said it had to do with Voldemort. He obliged. The view nearly made me lose it there, but I couldn't. I became quite still staring at him, and things haven't been the same since.
I decided to tell little Professor Flitwick of my troubles. To my surprise he said it was normal. "Sexual tension" were his exact words. The only way to release it is to do it. You may have guessed that the tiny man was more than up to the challenge. Unfortunately, I needed more. I decided the only way to "do" it (or "shag" as they call it in there new lingo) with Harry, would be for me not to be Head Master anymore.
Once again I called that sexy whore up to my office. I sat him down and spilled out my troubles. He just looked at me with those charming eyes and nodded. He told me that he felt it too. We were meant to be. Harry is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I will never give him up. I remember it like yesterday the first day we "Shagged." It was memorable. He pulled down my knickers and gasped. "Oh Dumbly how large." I must say, wife, we love each other more than night or day. I'm sorry,
Love, err, not love, Albus
Summery: Dumbledore writes a letter to his wife explaining why they no longer can be together.
A/N: once again I am bored. I wrote this with Tizzo. Enjoy, and review! (no flames!)
Title: Confessions of the Elderly
Dear wife,
I have a bit of a confession to make. I think a divorce may be in store, it's not me it's you. No, actually, it is me. So anyway, it all started in Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts. I felt a strange feeling in the bottom of my soul. It took me a while to realize it was lust. He was gorgeous. Those brilliant green eyes, and that "come on and fuck me" hair. I couldn't resist. By the time that he was in second year, I had no choice but to call that 'six-packed hunk of meaty love' up into my office. I asked him as always if something was wrong. And as always, he said no. I told him to take off his shirt. I said it had to do with Voldemort. He obliged. The view nearly made me lose it there, but I couldn't. I became quite still staring at him, and things haven't been the same since.
I decided to tell little Professor Flitwick of my troubles. To my surprise he said it was normal. "Sexual tension" were his exact words. The only way to release it is to do it. You may have guessed that the tiny man was more than up to the challenge. Unfortunately, I needed more. I decided the only way to "do" it (or "shag" as they call it in there new lingo) with Harry, would be for me not to be Head Master anymore.
Once again I called that sexy whore up to my office. I sat him down and spilled out my troubles. He just looked at me with those charming eyes and nodded. He told me that he felt it too. We were meant to be. Harry is the best thing that has ever happened to me and I will never give him up. I remember it like yesterday the first day we "Shagged." It was memorable. He pulled down my knickers and gasped. "Oh Dumbly how large." I must say, wife, we love each other more than night or day. I'm sorry,
Love, err, not love, Albus