A/N: So there I was, lurking around the fanfiction site at 2 AM, when I came up with this idea.
Van Hohenheim entered a rather empty tavern, save for the barkeeper and an old man. Another old man. He laughed quietly at his own joke. Who was he to call someone old?
"Some wine, please." He asked the barkeeper, who shook his head.
"Sorry; we only have butterbeer in our stocks." The barkeeper cleaned a mug while gesturing at the other man. "Professor Dumbledore here wouldn't want any of the students drinking alcohol. Still," The young man grinned. "It'll still make you feel nice and fuzzy."
Seeing that no harm could be done, Hohenheim accepted the 'butterbeer' from the barkeeper. He turned to the other man, tentatively taking a sip of the drink. It was like liquid gold- pure, brilliant, and worth fighting over. After savoring the taste, he asked, "There is a school nearby? In the castle, I assume?"
"You're quite the observant man." Dumbledore took a swing of butterbeer before continuing. "What is your name?"
"Hohenheim." The golden-haired man answered, after a brief hesitation. "Yours?"
"Albus Dumbledore."
"Are you a teacher?" Hohenheim took another sip of butterbeer.
"Actually, I'm the headmaster of Hogwarts, the school nearby. What do you do for a living?"
"Slave. Traveling scholar. Forsaken Father. The usual."
"Ah." They drank their butterbeer in silence.
