Collecting Dust

Derrick studied the sign. A large panda was sitting next to her cub, which was laughing insanely at a book, which they were both reading together.

The larger of the two Asian mammals had a large speech bubble protruding from its' mouth.
"Reading is kewl!"

He shuddered. He could stand the other posters that littered the large hallway, which led to the library. "Reading is fun" was understandable. Even "Super Ted say Reading is Super!!!" was acceptable.
But "kewl" was shameful. If you are already in a library he reasoned, why would you have to be told to read? That's what you're here for, surely.

But the main reason Derrick hated the poster was because it didn't fit in here. The actual library was very old fashioned (it had no lights accept candles, and everything was covered in dust), and it's owner and only staff member was very stuffy and old.
Well, maybe stuffy wasn't right, but you couldn't see him putting up anything that had the word "kewl" in it.

He walked into the main room- well, it was more of a hall actually -and went up to the counter, where the librarian was sorting booking into piles.
It was very quiet.
Derrick put the books down gently, and waited for the owner to turn.
He did, but he didn't jump at the sight of Derrick, but merely smiled as if he knew he was there all along.
He looked down at the boy and smiled, his eyes twinkling.

"Good morning, young Derrick,"

"Mornin' Mr Dumbledore,"

"I'm glad to see you still refuse to use your schools' library. It's nice to have some company,"
The library was deserted as usual.
"But still," he continued, "the walk down here must of tired you. Special drink?"

Derrick nodded quickly.
Dumbledore lead him over to the reading corner by the window, and as Derrick sat down he went over to the till and poured out the mysterious liquid into two large goblets.
Goblets-thought Derrick- not cups. That was the only real reason people called the old man weird. That was the only reason they kept away from the library. Just because he liked old fashioned stuff.

Every week, after English, Derrick would come here to get the book he'd need for his assignment next week. But Derrick didn't just get boring old books about crop rotation in the eighteenth century (for Social History), oh no; he'd get good books. Books about Gnomes, Goblins, Dragons and Wizards.

After a few weeks he had become friends with old Dumbledore, and every Tuesday they would sit down and drink the Special Drink, the one that Dumbledore refused to name.

Whatever it was, it warmed Derrick to the tips of his toes.

"So, Derrick, what are you studying this week? Not crop rotation again, I hope,"

"Nah, it's Home Economics this time,"

"Oh I am sorry," Dumbledore sounded sincere.

They talked, as usual, about good books, holidays and wanting to own bicycles.
But eventually Dumbledore asked the question he asked every week. It was something of a ritual.
"How are things with the other boys?"
He meant the bullies, as always.
"Oh, there're fine…" He looked deep into the old mans' eyes, and spilled everything out in one long rush.
"Greg stole my text book which I'd spent all week covering in pictures of robots and then he chased down the corridor past Mrs. Mitchell's office, but I lost him in the toilets. I hid there, but I didn't know it was the girls' toilets and Julie Wright heard me and then she went to get Mrs. Mitchell and Mrs. Mitchell started shouting about not going into girls' toilets and Julie said I tried to spy on her but I never! And then Mr. Johnson, who's the Headmaster, gave me detention. I hate the Headmaster."

Dumbledore looked at Derrick in a bemused, but not patronising way.

"Indeed. But sometimes Headmasters must do things that seem rash after viewing the evidence before them. Alas, in your case it was unfair,"

Derrick suddenly looked at his watch, "Oh blast it! I'm late!"

He hadn't realised how long he'd been here. Ms. Janice's class was about to began.

Derrick was gone before he had even finished the Butter Beer that Dumbledore had given him.

The bearded man sighed.
Yes…the Headmaster had made a decision…and it seemed wrong, to those who were to blind to see the reasoning behind it…
It brought it all back, the owl arriving with the letter, the words "Indefinitely removed from the running of Hogwarts"…

It had all changed that day.

Voldemort kept on rising. Fudge decided to act to late, and was killed. Lucius Malfoy had been the one to use the final curse. After that the rest of the Ministry fell easily.
It all happened to fast. Someone had been inside the Ministry, working for the Death Eaters…

And then of course, the worst moment in Dumbledores' entire life.
When Harry had died.
After that, every other glimmer of hope has gone. The Order of the Phoenix had been split, with Sirius determined to get revenge, Lupin dead, Arabella missing and only Mundungus left. Ron had had the Imperious curse used on him until the extent of madness, and eventually death. And Hermione now worked somewhere in the Muggle world. Same as most of the others…

Hogwarts had been replaced with the Dark Orders' own academy.

All hope was gone, and Dumbledore had to disappear into the Muggle world, like so many other wizards and witches.

And now Dumbledore owned a library. To which only Derrick really came to…

What a life, collecting dust.

Dumbledore got up and began filing the "A" to "C" section.