This Harry Potter story was written for fun. All rights belong to the wonderful lady (JK Rowling) who gave the world Harry Potter to read and enjoy.

In this chapter, Dumbledore wakes up and stumbles about before attempting to change the smooth operations at Hogwarts. Professors Snape and Sprout begin planning to handle the problem with rats in Hogwarts. Professor Moody powers up the wards, and the headmaster realizes he's taken his eye off of what's important – the students at Hogwarts. Hedwig invites herself to history class.

Chapter 18 'Wake up Albus!'

High in his tower, Albus Dumbledore rolled over in bed and woke up slowly. His long hair hung in his face, his beard was matted with dried drool, his eyes are crusty, and his bed stank as if he'd lain there for a week.

'I must have a cold,' his muddled mind decided. 'I didn't drink anything last night…'

His eyes squeezed shut as memories of the previous night flooded his mind; the nightmare of a sorting with too many secrets revealed, the boy-who-lived sorted into Hufflepuff, more revelations in his office, and finally Peeves burning out the transfiguration while perched on his head.

Albus shuddered with dread – his staff and students knew one of his darkest secrets – his love for the music of the Swedish pop group ABBA. No one could deny the enchantment of their tunes and he shook his head in disappointment every time the group denied there was magical blood in their families. The Swedish magical government finally demanded the ICW censure Albus when he continually appeared at the group's concerts around the world every summer seeking autographs.

*(+++++)*

He stumbled from his bed; it took a few minutes to get his legs working this morning but that wasn't unusual at 137 years of age. Gazing around his room, he noticed that the robes from last night lay across a chair and there were none laid out for today.

"Elf!" he called to the air and a moment later one of the older house elves popped into the room.

"Did youse decide to wakes up, Headmaster Whiskers?"

"Dumbledore…" the wizard tried to correct the elf.

"Yes, that's be you, Headmaster Whiskers," the happy elf agreed, nodding its head.

"You are to call me Headmaster Dumbledore," the headmaster told the elf as he balanced himself on shaky legs.

The elf peered closely at the wizard and nodded vigorously, "Yes, Headmaster Whiskers Dumbledore."

"Don't call me Whiskers!" the old wizard replied sharply.

"No whiskers?" asked the elf innocently.

"That's correct, no whiskers," Dumbledore agreed.

The elf's face looked cheerful as it suddenly snapped its fingers and disappeared while snatching the long beard from Dumbledore's face with magic.

"What! Elf, come back here! Bring back my beard!" Albus shouted with a clean chin for the first time in ten years. In the silence of his bedroom, he heard the laughter of the damn phoenix down in his office.

'The last time they stole my beard, it took a week to get it back!' the headmaster remembered.

"Head elf appear now!" he commanded, with the Elder wand in his hand. There was a pop and the current head elf – Stormy… Story… or something – appeared with Dumbledore's long, luxurious beard in its arms.

"Youse called again for an elf, Headmaster No Whiskers Dumblesdore?"

"Put my beard back!" he demanded.

"Of course, Headmasters No Whiskers Dumbledore," the elf replied and snapped its fingers.

With the beard back on his face with his fingers stroking the strong hairs with growing confidence, the wizard felt more like himself. And while his thoughts were less pleasant, he dared not voice them aloud, 'House elves are more trouble that phoenix familiars.'

"What mores can Shelly do for Headmaster Whiskers?" the head elf asked, making Dumbledore wince again. For today, he would surrender the battle of how the elves addressed him.

"Have a bath drawn," he commanded. "Has breakfast started yet?"

"Youse want a bath in the breakfast?" asked the horrified elf. "No's Headmaster Whiskers! It's bad enough youse make elfs watch you in baths, we's not let you do that to childrens!"

"No, you idiot!" Dumbledore growled. "I just wanted to know if breakfast has started in the Great Hall."

"Shellys go check…" the elf said as it popped away without summoning the bathing tub or hot water to fill it.

"Merlin damn…" Albus cursed as the laughter of his phoenix continued to drift up the stairs.

*(+++++)*

Dumbledore managed to make his way into his ensuite to begin his morning. He had to settle for a shower rather than soaking in the tub this morning. He cast spells to dry and untangle his long hair and beard before wrapping his dressing gown around his lanky form and returned to his bedroom to find his night clothes gone and nothing laid out for the day.

He sighed; in his opinion, the elves were unreasonably angry with him for the deaths from their numbers in the August fire. He shrugged and sought clean small clothes in the dresser drawers. Finally finding some very old clothes and selecting the ones with the fewest holes in them, he dressed and then opened the closet to select today's robes.

He sighed with disappointment; there were only fifteen sets of robes where he'd had a hundred before the fire. Dumbledore finally settled on a pale green with leprechauns dancing around the skirt. With a matching wizard's hat, he finished dressing, and then climbed down the stairs to his office.

He ignored the phoenix and the pile of mail on his desk. The elf had not returned so Dumbledore cast the spell to determine the time of day and frowned when he discovered it was half-past twelve. He'd slept through the entire morning of the first day of school.

Now Dumbledore hurried from his office and through the halls of Hogwarts toward the Great Hall.

'I really should change the wards so I can apparate inside the castle. I'm too busy to make portkeys every time…' his thoughts froze when he arrived at the doors to the Great Hall and found barely half of the students at their tables and all of them in casual clothes rather than school uniforms.

Albus stopped a tall boy and asked, "Humphries, why aren't you in uniform? Are you skiving off class this morning? That'll be five points from Gryffindor…"

"Sorry Headmaster, it's Sunday. Everyone's allowed to dress casual today. And I'm Roger Heathcliff from Hufflepuff…"

"Of course, you are my boy, of course you are…" Dumbledore smiled congenially before he asked, "And you say it is Sunday?"

"Yes, Headmaster. We had a smashing good start to the year and everyone's finishing up lessons this morning. I think there'll be some fly-up Quidditch matches this afternoon with Professor Hooch, Professor Snape, and Professor Lupin acting as judges."

"Quidditch matches?"

"Yes, excuse me Headmaster," Roger said before he hurried from the Great Hall. The headmaster reminded Roger of his great-great-granddad who was beginning to lose his mind according to his grandmother.

*(+++++)*

Scene: No Breakfast

Making his way to the staff table at the head of the room, Dumbledore was ignored by the students who were finishing a few assignments, talking with friends while planning their afternoons, or just resting.

At the head table, Remus Lupin smiled and greeted Dumbledore politely while eating a large sandwich. Troutman with two other healers took up one end of the table and they were comparing schedules to continue student examinations tomorrow morning. Troutman gave Dumbledore only the meanest of nods this morning… afternoon.

'Why are there two more healers here?' Albus wondered for a moment before he sat back in his chair remembering, Troutman planned to screen every one of the first years. 'It is Sunday… he's had three days… I can't obliviate the whole school…'

Clearing his throat, Albus called, "Breakfast."

Instead of an English breakfast appearing in front of him, there appeared a plate with a sandwich of bread, lettuce, cheese, and cold cuts with a side of chips.

"I said 'breakfast'," he called again before the head elf… Skippy, wasn't it… appeared in front of him with a steaming pot of tea.

"Kitchens don't have enough elfeses since you gots so many dead in fires. We serve sandwiches for lunch to be able to get all works done."

"But I am the headmaster and I want breakfast," Albus said as the elf poured a cup of tea.

The elf smiled and said, "Youse get breakfast tomorrow morning. Eat sandwiches for lunch or waits for dinner."

Grumbling to himself, Albus frowned when he discovered the chips were cold and greasy. The tea was weak and too hot and the bread in his sandwich was almost stale.

*(+++++)*

Before he could rise from the table after forcing down the sandwich and cold chips, the headmaster found Troutman at his side, the healer's wand was busy with spells and enchanted parchments piled up on the table.

"I underestimated the amount of time you'd be asleep, Headmaster Dumbledore. You certainly used too much magic on Wednesday last," the healer said with wand casting a simple monitoring spell on the older wizard.

Aggravated by the healer's manner yet again, Dumbledore complained, "Aren't you supposed to do this in private?"

"We are private," Troutman replied. "No one can hear us. Now, your core is recovering but the transfiguration you cast on the poltergeist and then the spells where you tried to maintain control appeared to have drained your magical core dangerously. You will need at least a month of minimal magic use to restore your core to safe levels."

"Define 'minimal'?" asked Dumbledore carefully; he'd not reached this age without listening to healers when he had to and this appeared to be one of those times.

"No apparition, no transfiguration, no battles. You need to remain here in the castle and…"

"I have responsibilities with the Wizengamot," Albus reminded the healer.

Troutman frowned and said, "Headmaster, summon any healer from St. Mungo's you want, they will examine you and tell you to rest for four more weeks before resuming your duties outside Hogwarts. If you ignore my diagnosis, I refuse to be responsible."

With that Troutman dropped the privacy charm he'd cast without the headmaster noticing, gathered the papers he'd created on Dumbledore's condition, and led the two other healers out of the Great Hall. Two students from Gryffindor and one from Slytherin followed the healers to ask questions about becoming healers.

*(+++++)*

Scene: Class Schedules

On his way back to his office, to try and gather information on the developments of the last four days, Albus encountered Minerva on the staircase.

"Ah, good morning…" he began to say before she interrupted him.

"Headmaster, I am glad to see you stirring. Healer Troutman has reported on your progress each day."

Suddenly wondering about other reports, Dumbledore asked, "Did you forward the news of my illness to the minister?"

The deputy headmistress appeared surprized by the question and shook her head, "Why would I do that? I am not in charge of your correspondence."

Albus frowned but Minerva continued, "As far as I know, Cornelius Fudge has made no inquiries so I have no notion of his knowledge of your incapacitated state for the past four days."

She paused before she turned toward him and asked, "Do you suppose he was smart enough to organize a coup and dethrone you from the Wizengamot while you were sleeping?"

Torn now, Albus needed to return to his office and call his allies in the Wizengamot to ensure nothing had occurred in the last four days, but he also had to set Minerva to work on a major task.

"Well, yes… I am certain Cornelius hasn't precipitated any unnecessary or calamitous misadventures…"

Minerva smirked as Dumbledore attempted to bury her in a convoluted sentence or two.

"Now, Minerva…"

"I have told you previously, you will refer to me as 'Professor McGonagall' or 'Deputy Headmistress McGonagall', Headmaster Dumbledore. We work together but we are not friends."

The older wizard winced, he'd forgotten she still held a grudge for something he did not understand from events in September.

"My apologies, Professor McGonagall," he said with a small bow of his head before she turned and began to walk away.

"There is a task I need you to begin immediately…"

Stopping and turning around once again, Minerva said nothing but waited quietly. Nervously, Albus said, "This morning I was considering all the ramifications of the sorting from last night…"

"From four days ago." Again, she paused as if to give his mind time to process the information.

"On Wednesday night," McGonagall reminded him. "Today is Sunday."

"Yes, from four days ago… In any case, I want the schedules changed to match Hufflepuff with Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw."

"Are you daft!" Minerva exploded. "Classes are underway and you want to…"

Taking a deep breath and clinching her fists, McGonagall said, "No."

Dumbledore attempted to bluster his way through the order by standing tall and stating, "I am headmaster and…"

But McGonagall slashed her hand through the air to cut off the statement of his rank. She spit out, "If you want to rearrange schedules, you do it. But remember, there are classes on six days each week, the other professors will curse you until Christmas, and the school governors will likely investigate your mental competency once they hear this strange request."

Albus paused and then asked, "Perhaps, just the first years then?"

*(+++++)*

He limped back to his office; Minerva kicked Dumbledore in the shins while cursing him with Scottish curses that his wand couldn't dispel. There would be no changes to the class schedule in the fall term and if he wanted to redo the schedule for winter and spring terms, he would have to do them alone.

The gargoyle was sluggish in moving aside and the rotating stairs moved slowly. Once again, the phoenix spent her time laughing at him while the wizard sat behind his desk sorting the piles of mail.

*(+++++)*

Scene: Quidditch Fly Up

Harry hurried along the path with Zach, James, and Ernie. Neville and Justin followed at a slower pace with Susan, Hannah and the other girls. The Sunday afternoon sky was clear thanks to a weather spell by Remus Lupin and the blue sky was beautiful, but it was the figures flying through the air over the Quidditch pitch that drew Harry – boys and girls on broomsticks – young witches and wizards were floating above the earth, and then suddenly dropping through the air, with joyous screams.

"What do you think, Harry?" asked Zach as Tonks and Diggory swept by overhead on their brooms.

"Brilliant! It's brilliant!" Harry chanted as he watched the teams fly around the pitch, throwing the quaffles about, with two or more of the students chasing the snitch that Harry's eyes followed carefully. Some students sat on the grass that afternoon and some climbed into the stands to cheer their friends in the fly-in game.

The grin on Harry's face grew wider each time there was a shout for a score or a dive for the snitch. His head swivelled about, following Diggory and then Tonks. He noticed the Weasley twins in third-year and they flew as a coordinated team.

'I will get to fly!' he thought. 'Like Hedwig, I will fly into the clouds.'

*(+++++)*

Scene: Professors Talk About Rats and Toads

Late in the afternoon, just before time to gather for dinner, there was a knock on the heavy wooden door to Remus's private chambers and he quickly closed the top of his desk where he was composing a report back to Mi5 on his week at Hogwarts with students.

The wizard didn't even have a charm set to identify the person on the other side of the door; he'd lived in the muggle world so long now he didn't even consider the need for such things. When he opened the door, Lupin was surprised to find Pomona Sprout and Severus Snape waiting for him.

"Professors! Come in," he greeted them and stood back to provide room at the door for the two professors to enter his sitting room. They quickly found places on the sofa opposite his chair near the fire and even though the table remained without a tea tray, Sprout immediately began asking questions.

"Mr Longbottom's story about rats in the greenhouse has been repeated in the potions classroom," she explained to Remus. "He examined some of our stores of ingredients and showed Professor Snape how they were contaminated by rats and not doxies."

Remus nodded, "The report by the toad…"

"Toad?" interrupted Severus.

"Yes, Mr Longbottom's familiar is a toad; some South American variety that grows quite large with a voracious appetite for insects, mice, and doxies it appears," Remus explained and then he waited for the other man to digest the information. After a moment, Severus waved for the werewolf to continue.

"Trevor and Hedwig had a long conversation in the greenhouse the other day and she translated his news of tunnels underneath the greenhouses, battles between doxies and pixies, and incursions by rats from underneath the dungeons."

"There are supposed to be wards… Wait… Who is Hedwig?" asked the potions professor.

"Really, Severus, you have got to keep up with the current events at Hogwarts," Pomona muttered. "Miss Hedwig is Mr Potter's familiar; the two of them can converse as easily as you and I. The owl can talk with the toad and both familiars were concerned about the possible contamination by rats."

Severus sat silent for a moment and Pomona called a house elf who popped in. The head of Hufflepuff made a request and the elf popped out and then a simple tray of tea with some milk but no sugar or biscuits, appeared on the table beside her.

"I do hope the headmaster is able to recruit a few more elves before the first of the year," the herbology professor sighed. "I miss a good tea on some afternoons."

She poured tea for both men and urged Severus to drink from his cup. "And the little ones do try and help us in so many ways."

"Are there any plants we could put in the greenhouses to help the elves?" asked Remus, and while Sprout and Lupin spoke of a few beneficial plants for house elves, Snape finished his cup and cleared his throat.

"After talking with Mr Longbottom about the contamination of the plant matter, I cast a revealing spell and there are signs of rats everywhere in the lower dungeons. The elves block their holes but the pests dig them out every night. We have several cabinets of potion ingredients that will have to be thrown out."

"We can grow replacement plants in two months and complete the harvest before the new year," Pomona said.

"But the problem with the rats will remain," Remus said.

Severus nodded. "There are several good potions to brew that will drive rats away from the dungeons. And I can use much of the material that is contaminated for those potions."

"But that leaves the rat population looking for new areas to explore – like the kitchens and the children's dormitories!" Pomona exclaimed. "Fewer elves mean that there are fewer of them to deal with the rats!"

"What about the wards?" asked Remus. "Isn't one of the wards supposed to keep out pests like rats and mice?"

*(+++++)*

Scene: Professor Dumbledore's Proposal

Albus shoved the papers to one side before drawing his wand and banishing them – there was no way to redo the schedules for the students to balance the seventh-year projects with fifth year OWLs while putting the Hufflepuff and Gryffindors together. He'd spent over an hour looking over the papers and couldn't find a clear path…

He rose from his desk and went to the window, opening the clasp he pulled back the ancient stained glass to allow some fresh air into his office. The rush of cold October air surprised him for a moment but then again, his wand cast a charm to block the wind and only allow the fresh air – still cold but not blowing – to flow into the room. In the distance Dumbledore could see the Quidditch pitch where a fly-up of the game was underway – no bludgers, just quaffles and a snitch for a friendly afternoon game.

'Flying lessons!' he realized. 'I can combine all the students into a single flying lesson! That'll let Mr Weasley become Mr Potter's friend.'

*(+++++)*

At the staff table as the students assembled for dinner, Dumbledore pitched the idea to Professor Hooch.

"I thought it would give the students a good experience across house lines… they'd all learn to fly together."

For a moment, he thought the flying instructor was convinced but she'd merely strung him along to catch him with an argument he couldn't refute.

"Headmaster, I must say I like the idea," Hooch stated to the consternation McGonagall.

The deputy headmistress prepared to argue against the notion when Rolanda asked, "But when do the new brooms arrive to allow this expanded class?"

"New brooms?" asked Dumbledore. "I know we have more than fifty school brooms available for flying classes…"

"If you count all the brooms that won't fly…" Hooch revealed with a hint of heavy sarcasm. "And I have to spend hours charming even a dozen of them to fly properly and safely for each class. If I have all four classes of firsties, half of them will be on the ground for the entire lesson where they can get into mischief and grass stains."

McGonagall groused at a missed opportunity, "I wish I would have thought to have the elves throw all those brooms into the fire back in August. The Governors would have had to buy new ones to replace them."

"There'll be no combined class," Hooch announced. She turned to the headmaster and continued, "At least not until we have two dozen new brooms for instruction."

*(+++++)*

Scene: Dumbledore's Announcements

Thwarted once again by the unreasonable requests of his staff, Dumbledore spent the next ten minutes watching the stragglers wander into the Great Hall for dinner. The Gryffindor table seemed subdued to the headmaster while Slytherin and Ravenclaw were their usual quiet and brooding selves. The Hufflepuff table appeared to be bright and animated this evening – a large crop of firsties including the 'boy-who-lived' were livening up the Badgers.

Albus glanced at the heads of house; Snape looked preoccupied by some problem, Burbage was continually making eye contact with different Lions and nodding or frowning, Flitwick walking along the aisle behind the benches speaking to many of the students in his house, and Sprout spent these minutes watching her house and recognizing who were the new leaders. It was the gaze of Minerva McGonagall that disturbed Dumbledore the most; she almost smiled this evening – something she never did.

"What is on your mind, this evening Professor McGonagall?" Dumbledore asked in a quiet voice, meant for her ears only.

Rather than startling her, the question appeared to have been expected as the deputy headmistress replied, "It has been a most marvellous beginning to the year! Each house is prepared for class in the mornings, pranks and confrontations have been nil, and already the students are focused on their studies. It's as though your absence has been a blessing, Headmaster Dumbledore."

Now she turned to face him directly, "It would be a great shame if your return were to mark the beginning of problems…"

He froze at his deputy's implication but only for a moment. He was Albus Dumbledore and his plans would not be laid aside for a few hours of classroom instruction.

*(+++++)*

Signally for quiet by clinking his spoon against a large mug on the table, Dumbledore rose to address the students at Hogwarts before their evening meal.

"I am glad to see you all in attendance and looking bright-eyed. I am glad to report that the illness that kept be from you these past few days is resolved and I shall give your education my full attention from this moment forward."

"Who is he?" asked a muggleborn rather loudly at the Hufflepuff table. Minerva lifted her napkin to her face to hide the smirk though Snape, Troutman and Sprout didn't bother.

"Bright girl," commented Flitwick to Lupin further down the table. "She's paying attention to what's important."

"That's the headmaster… Albus Dumbledore," explained another 'puff but the firstie only nodded and turned back to her conversation with a friend.

"I have a few announcements," Dumbledore continued. "The Forbidden Forest remains forbidden. The only students who may venture into the forest are seventh years but only when they are working as a team to gather potion ingredients under the supervision of Professor Snape."

"All products from the joke shop remain forbidden," he announced though he winked a few times as he made this announcement.

"All students are to remain away of the corridor at the top of the stairs on the third floor. There is a locked door along that hallway that you must not enter! Otherwise you will suffer a painful death!"

"Now, let's feast! Butternut, hazelnut, and pecans!"

"I'm allergic to nuts," shouted a firstie in Slytherin. "Is that old duffer trying to kill me?"

A house elf appeared beside the student to explain that his meal was always prepared carefully without nuts of any kind. Reassured by the house elf, the Slytherin blushed to have spoke aloud but the other students around him agreed that the headmaster had been thoughtless.

"I told you not to mention nuts in your blithering comments!" Snape hissed from further down the table.

"You mustn't hold it against the headmaster, Snape. His brain still isn't fully functional after sleeping for four days," Troutman reminded the potions master.

*(+++++)*

Scene: Professor Moody's Moves

The main courses were complete when suddenly the headmaster stood up and drew his wand.

"The wards!" he declared. "Someone is fiddling with the wards."

Wiping her mouth, McGonagall stood beside him and said, "I completely forgot. Professor Moody mentioned he wanted to check on the status of the wards for the castle. He had to wait until you were awake to able to get into the chamber and he thought during dinner would be best."

"But… the wards are so sensitive…"

The doors of the Great Hall soon opened to admit the scarred Auror with the peg leg and magical eye. As the DADA professor made his way across the room toward the staff stable, Albus noticed that the Auror was greeted with smiles and waves from all the students.

"Professor Moody made a good impression on the firsties and the other students this week. And the practical on Saturday was well-received by the seventh, sixth, and fifth-year students. They created schedules for all the spells they felt they missed out on in their earlier years and Moody will teach all those spells," Minerva explained. "You will get points from the governors for hiring Auror Moody for this year's class."

Alistair Moody slowed his advance toward the table to speak with his students; his first report to Director Bones had been scathing in criticism of the state of past DADA instruction but full of optimism for the level of student interest in the subject.

With each meal, he'd found that students felt comfortable approaching his scarred face while surrounded by their peers. If he remained approachable in the Great Hall, before the winter break, they would feel comfortable approaching his office in pairs or alone.

Minerva returned to her chair but Albus remained standing, the funny wand at his side. Moody smiled as best he could when he noticed that the healer on the left of the headmaster and Minerva on the right each had their wands drawn but held down.

"Albus, glad to see you up and about finally," Moody stated.

His next statement was planned to give the headmaster a chance to save face. "As 'we' planned, I performed a ministerial inspection of the wards and brought them all up to full power. The fire suppression ward was dangerously low…"

The librarian and herbology professor both frowned before Moody continued, "The castle spent a great deal of power fighting the fire in August and that probably explains that low settings. I have recharged the wards with the castle's ambient magic and Hogwarts is safe once again."

*(+++++)*

Alone in his tower that evening, Dumbledore sat at his desk and ignored his correspondence. The phoenix began a low tune that made the wizard contemplative; he remembered how exciting Hogwarts had seemed to him as boy in the 1860s. How excited he was to learn… how excited he was to teach children when he began working here in 1910.

Perhaps the others were correct and this was a good start to the school year. There was no sign of Tom Riddle thus far and he'd keep his attention on the bits and pieces of news that he pieced together to keep ahead of the problems in Magical Britain. Something called 'computers' was making a splash in the muggle world; he'd investigate to make certain there was nothing about this invention to threaten magical world next summer. He remembered when the muggles tried to learn how to fly a century ago.

That came to nothing…

*(+++++)*

In the next chapter, Hedwig attends History class with the 'puffs and 'claws. Then they all have a flying lesson.