"So what do you reckon?"
"What do you mean, what do I reckon'? I think it's pretty obvious."
"You don't suppose—"
"Oh, definitely. That's completely something he would try to do."
"Reckon we could get McGonagall to tell us?"
"McGonagall? Nah. Even if he did, and I totally think he did, she wouldn't tell us."
"Why not?"
"Why would she? That'd be cause for a rumor, wouldn't it?"
"…but how's it a rumor if it's true?"
"….just—listen, you prat, we can't ask McGonagall. She wouldn't tell us. End of story. But I'm pretty sure he did it. One of the greatest wizards of all time? He totally did it."
"It does look an awful lot like him. It's really uncanny."
"I do hope the "uncanniness" of this situation is how you two are about to make your way to your classes." A new voice interrupted. Both students swirled around to see Professor McGonagall watching them with narrowed eyes.
"Yes, of course, Professor. We—we were just going." One stammered.
"Yes, we were just—Professor, do you reckon he—that is to say, Dumbledore—do you think he really—ow!" The second student clutched his arm where his friend had elbowed him.
McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "So I think what, Mr. Regan?"
Despite the glares he was receiving on both sides, the boy meekly looked her in the eye. "It's just—do you think he—I mean, Dumbledore, he looks an awful lot like—that is, he and Gandalf—um…" he trailed off, looking embarrassed.
McGonagall fought a smile. "Are you asking if Professor Dumbledore and Gandalf are the same?"
Both students looked shocked. "You—you know about—?"
"Of course I've heard of Lord of the Rings." She scoffed. "What did you think we teachers did in our free time, or, heaven forbid, our summers? Think of new ways to torture the students? No, that's done in the first few days back easily enough. We read, we travel." She paused. "Or at least I do." she sniffed.
"Well?" The boy prompted eagerly. His friend elbowed him again, but he paid no mind.
Again, McGonagall seemed to fight a smile. "That is something I cannot answer. That is a question you must ask Professor Dumbledore himself, but, as you know, that is not possible."
The boy deflated. "Although I imagine," she said, and his head snapped up at her teasing tone. "If you were to ask his portrait what he thought about your theory, he would say that death is just another path, one we all must take."
For a moment the boy stood still, confused. And then his face cleared and he grinned widely at his friend. Smiling slightly, McGonagall shooed them away.
"Off to class with you. Both of you." And she swept down the hallway.
