Chapter 1
"What did Umbridge do this time, Minerva?"
Albus sighed/moaned in his throat. The school year had barely even started yet and he was loaded with paperwork.
"She had the gall, the gall, I tell you, to say that she was afraid of the dropping quality of education in Hogwarts, and that too to a bunch of first years. If you don't do something, Albus, you may just find that one of her paintings has managed to scratch her to death."
"Now now Minerva, calm down. We both know that her position in this school is beyond my control at the moment. We must try our best to give the young students our knowledge and teachings, and to follow the ministry guidelines precisely, or they may have enough reason to get rid of us."
Even as he said this, his mind raced through the proper charms and transfigurations required to achieve Minerva's idea. He shook his head. It was time to focus. If he showed any disinterest, he may find his own face with the scratch marks of an angry cat.
Minerva sighed, blissfully unaware of the inner turmoil inside his head. "Yes, I know that. Can't you do anything Albus? Must such a foul woman be allowed to roam the hallways of Hogwarts?"
But Albus heard 'fowl woman' and his mind produced a series of images with Umbridge as a fowl, each funnier than the last one. He had to use all his Occlumancy to stop himself from laughing out loud.
"Yes, it is regrettable, but the Minister has simply refused any meetings to discuss her," Dumbledore said in a grave voice. "We must bear her burden for now."
With that, and a heavy sigh from Minerva, the meeting was adjourned and she left via the rotating staircases.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, turned his mind to the stacks of paperwork conveniently disillusioned and kept under his desk. His hand got to work, signing and initializing with the efficiency that only comes with experience.
His mind was free to wander, however, and so it did. He constructed step by step procedures to make her look like a chicken to everyone else, complete with squawking noises and weird movements. Soon he reached the end of the stack, popped his knuckles, and stretched.
Long ago, there had been a time when he was the biggest prankster in Hogwarts. But age and experience had deprived him of his pranks. After all, you couldn't be a Chief Warlock, and a prankster. What mischief he had managed to cause, stopped because of Grindlewald, and ultimately, Tom Riddle. He couldn't, in any good faith, be seen doing pranks when the outside world was terrorised and scared. No, he had to be the unflappable Greatest Wizard of the Century, to calm them down and help with the war.
But that was a decade ago.
He used the wand to change his robes to bright colours and moving patterns, and strolled through the evening lights to the kitchen. He could have ordered the elves to his office, but this gave him some exercise in his old body, and he got to enjoy walking in his home. The pear turned to a doorknob, and he entered inside a room of barely contained chaos. Perfect.
He ducked his head and strolled inside, conjured a small table and chair, and sat down. One of the elves saw him and quickly made its way to his table.
"What may Professy be wanting today?" it asked quickly.
"A cup of hot chocolate and some biscuits would do, Telly."
"Right away!"
Within minutes, a steaming cup of hot chocolate and delicious biscuits were kept at his table, and he started enjoying his light evening supper.
Until he felt a timid tug on his hat from his back. He turned to find a tiny elf staring at him jumping from toe to toe. He turned his chair fully, now facing the elf.
"What can I do for you?" he asked kindly.
"Uhhh. Tinkly can't say..."
He nodded. "As the Headmaster of Hogwarts, I give permission to you to speak whatever you want."
The elf sighed visibly, but quickly straightened up. "Professy pinky be using bad quill on students."
'Bad quill?'
"What is a bad quill?"
"It be using blood from their hand to write."
His temper flared.
A few utensils dropped from their shelves.
The elf got scared.
He got his magic under control.
But not his temper.
"When did this happen?" he asked rigidly.
"Today."
"And who was the student?"
He knew not to have a preference for his students, but his mind was saying 'Please let it not be–'
"Harry Potter."
The cup on his table vanished and the chocolate spilled all over. A wave of his hand vanished the mess, but his mind was plotting bloody murder.
The next morning, the Daily Prophet had a polarizing headline that would change the Wizarding World for years to come.
The newspaper read "Albus Dumbledore has resigned from all his positions!"
Another, smaller headline read, "Umbridge to be the new headmistress!"
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