Chapter One: Dumbledore the Dumber Dole
A week later Albus Dumbledore still had not left his bed for anything than using the bathroom. He had never intended to end his career but even if it had to end, why this way? There had always been people accounting him senile or even insane. It was is own fault, however, that now there was prove of it and by now the former headmaster was not far from believing the rumours himself.
What if he was truly insane? Was it not better for everyone if he just stayed in here then?
Still there were reporters knocking his door down just to get a statement of Dumbledore or even do an interview with him. The wizard would only be too pleased to say something – he just did not know what could save the situation and was ashamed of his behaviour the other day. To make matters worse, his hair was still dying down and by now there was more hair on his bed and pillow than left on his body. It felt itchy.
When Dumbledore could not stand the icky feeling of lying on hair anymore, he jumped out of bed and began pacing the room. "What is your problem anyway?", the man asked himself loudly. "Somebody will take your place. There were headmasters before you, there will be headmasters after you. It means a lot less work for you", he ensured himself. Nodding to confirm his words he straightened up. An exaltation rose in his chest, growing stronger until it covered the wizard's distress. Hastily he got dressed and than ran out of the front door, where a horde of reporters awaited him. "I am retiring", Dumbledore said calmly, freezing in his movement when the words reached his brain. Verbalized this way they sounded... just great! "I quit!", he screamed and started giggling excitedly. Then he ran off. Leaving his old life behind him as well as the stunned reporters. A few metres afar he jumped and clapped his hands in mid-air.
In his countless years of life, Dumbledore had never ever allowed himself to take some time off. Saving the wizarding world was no job allowing you to take vacations. But for once Dumbledore had done something good to himself and now he had all the free time he needed. Somebody else would save the world. It did not have to be him. No doubt came to the former headmaster's bald head.
His first trip brought him to Diagon Alley. Dumbledore did not notice the looks people gave him, when he hastily passed them in the Leaky Cauldron. Exiting through the opening brick-wall the elderly wizard started grinning like crazy. Still running he passed the cauldron shop and the apothecary, cold-shouldered Eeylops Owl Emporium and Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor to his left, Florish & Blott's and Madam Malkin's to his right. There, opposing the entrance to Knockturn Alley, was his destination: Gringotts, the Wizarding Bank.
When Dumbledore entered his gaze fell onto a copy of the Daily Prophet. Again, there was a picture of Albus Dumbledore on the front page, right above it was his name in big black letters. Just when the wizard was about to turn away, the letters changed to "Dumber Dole" and a subheading appeared saying: "Dumbledore now on the dole – one week without statement".
This was a little deflating... however it caused defiance to rise in Dumbledore and with a sweep of his wand the wizard set the rubbish bin the newspaper had been placed in on fire. When he came back out about half an hour later, his pockets filled with Galleons and Sickles, the rubbish bin was merely smoking.
"Now where do I go?", Dumbledore asked himself in a low voice, tipping his temple with his forefinger. At first he planned on travelling to Ibiza and party but on a second thought he found something much more obvious to do: why not try living in the Muggle world?