Greetings! This is just a light-hearted little one-shot I plopped out because I felt sorry for Armando Dippet. He had no stories tagged to his name! Well, now he does! This isn't really a fanfiction; it is an implicit scene that I have explicated. I have modeled the speech of Dippet after my great grandfather, who spoke "old-school" style, something that is amazing sounding.
Disclaimer: You know the drill. I know nothing. JKR owns all.
It was the summer of 1945 and I was very tired. I had every right to be tired; I was 307 years old! What possessed me to still be Headmaster at this ago eluded me. I was a wizened old man with a small bladder, hardly what I imagined when I was a spirited, young man.
At that specific moment I was sitting in my office with a very good colleague: Albus. That being said, at the moment I did not like my colleague much; he was being very insistent about a very random topic. A headache was all I was earning for my efforts to cease the conversation.
"I don't understand your reasons. Riddle is a talented young man! He is much more committed than half the applicants."
"The problem, Armando, is that he would not be a positive influence on the students. Riddle is too seriously 'committed' - as you say - to his studies." Albus was very serious, with the furrow in his brow he only used for delinquent students. I ignored this.
Albus was mistaken. Riddle was a sweet boy. "If I had hired Riddle, then I could have finally relaxed and had one less thing to worry about. He would have been an excellent teacher. Did he not head the Defense tutoring program all of last year?"
"Indeed the boy did," Albus conceded reluctantly. "But choosing a new professor based on how much spare time it would warrant from you is an improper technique!"
"When you are headmaster, you may chose the proper technique, but until then the only wizard to chose right or wrong is I! I do not even see why you care so much about my decision, Albus." Albus' hands were curled into fists as they lay upon the arms of his chair. "I turned him away. The age of 18 is much to young for a teacher."
"Indeed, you turned him away-"
"Then I see no reason for our words!"
"-but you invited Riddle to reapply in 'a couple of years'!"
"Albus!" I thumped my gnarled hand against my desk. A Boggart could be evicted with the ridiculousness of the situation. "I have not hired Riddle. I have hired Eugene Barwomple. Therefore, this discussion is over. Good day."
Albus sensed my dismissal, and although we had matching wrinkles, glasses and long beards, I had the trump card; I was headmaster.
"Good day, Armando." Albus looked annoyed and resigned at the same time.
I was getting too old for all of this. I needed to retire, relax and rest. Albus still had a good hundred years left on him before he became as tired as me. He'd understand where I was coming from then.
