Dumbledore stood over his enemy, this demon, this being of hatred. Voldemort's gnarled fingers twitched with anxiety, expecting what was to come. Dumbledore looked into that pitiful, wretched face and felt his anger subside. Lord Voldemort looked the same as he used to at the point of death...He looked like Tom Riddle once more. Not in appearance, but in the expression on his face, an image of depression and loathing and torment and horrid sorrow, an image of what could have changed. Dumbledore knew it was almost impossible, but could he possibly change Lord Voldemort? It could be done...It could...But what of the consequences if he was wrong? No, those didn't matter. Because Albus Dumbledore was going to change him, no matter what. Of that he was certain.

The look on Minerva McGonagall's face was of mingled shock and horror and disgust when she saw the body of Lord Voldemort, alive and healthy, walking in Dumbledore's office! That shook her right up. What was that...that...thing doing here? Albus was supposed to have killed him. And yet...he was pouncing about in Dumbledore's office as if it was his own. He was being...playful? Was that even possible?
"What in the bloody hell are you doing in this office, you insufferable wanker?!" Professor McGonagall shrieked at him, causing him to look up and smile at her.
"Oh, Dumbledore is delightful. All these toys of his really intrigue me. Now...what are YOU doing in this office, madam? Did Alby give you permission?" Voldemort said, looking quite innocent. She looked shocked.
"Alby?! ALBY?! DAMN YOU! THAT IS MY NICKNAME FOR DUMBLEDORE, YOU TWIT!!!" She screamed, thrashing her arms about.
"Really, what is all this commotion?" Dumbledore spoke quietly, in a harsh whisper.
"Oh, this horrible woman came in here and completely smothered me with profanity. Really, my virgin ears can't handle too much... She hurt my feelings. I want an apology," Voldemort whimpered.
"Minerva, is this true?" Dumbledore looked up at her with a glare.
"I...uh...not...he...here...dead...you...what...bloody...twit...Alby...I...no?" She stammered, turning quite pale.
"Minerva, from now on, I expect you to treat Voldie here with respect. He deserves it, after all he's been through. Treat others as you would like to be treated," Dumbledore said, resorting to horrid little over- used phrases taught to small children.
"You BASTARD! Do NOT expect me to treat this BEAST with respect! He's a monster. After all he did to Harry, you are KIND to him? DAMN you, Dumbledore! You can both go to HAPPY HELL together and drink fabulous brandy by the side of the FUCKING POOL!!!" She shouted, almost ready to hex that smirk right off of "Voldie"'s face.
"I most certainly will not go to "Happy Hell". I fully intend to go to the cage of fire and horrid torment where I belong," Voldemort said calmly.
"Oh, bother. You're worthless, both of you. I'm leaving. I should go tell Harry all about this little scandal, mind you. If he finds out, you both know that you will be dreadfully sorry," Minerva whispered angrily, her face turning from crimson to a purplish color. With that, she left the room.
Dumbledore cast a worried glance at Voldemort, and left the room. Voldemort just chuckled quietly, to himself, since no one else was there to hear him. No one ever was...

Harry Potter sat in the Gryffindor common room, his sloppy black hair falling boyishly over his eyelids. Hermione Granger sat next to him, obviously adoring the sight of him and all his glory. But that, my friends, is another story to tell...
So, Harry was attempting to sleep, but the fiery gaze of Hermione would not allow him. He opened his piercing green eyes and asked her, "WHAT could you POSSIBLY want? I am TRYING to SLEEP, if you haven't noticed!" He said, his voice raw with exhaustion. He loved her, but he was not in the mood for a make out session.
"Oh, sorry, Harry. I'm on my way to bed. I guess I'll...be seeing you. So...yeah, goodnight. Love you," She said, patting him on the head as she rose. Finally, Harry could get some sleep. Except not, because at that moment Professor Dumbledore's head decided to pop up in the fireplace. Harry groaned, for he knew that he would not be able to get to bed so soon.
"Harry, I'm afraid I have something to tell you," Dumbledore said gently.
"More news of that BASTARD Voldemort? Because really, I'm not in the mood to hear it. I need sleep. You see the bags under my eyes? Yes, that means I'm tired. So, if you'll excuse me, I'll be going to bed now," Harry was angry with Dumbledore for interrupting him in his journey to the land of sleep. Oh, he was REALLY angry.
"I'm quite sorry, but this cannot wait. It is of vast importance. I need you in my office now," He said.
Harry mumbled something to no one in particular. Something about a twisted hand and Dumbledore's bottom. Ah, well. It was of no importance to Dumbledore at this point.

When Harry arrived in Dumbledore's office, he had nothing to say but, "What in the bloody hell?!" Dumbledore was not shocked. He expected this reaction. It was quite normal, especially from Harry. Voldemort just looked particularly amused.
"Dear Harry, what ever is the matter? An old friend comes to visit you, and you treat him like dirt. My, my, Harry. I had not expected this behavior out of you. No, not at all," Voldemort said, stroking his chin with one twisted hand.
"You shut up. Harry has a right to be upset," Dumbledore spoke quickly in Harry's defense.
"Oh, really, dear Alby? Does he? I never thought...Never supposed...that poor little Potter would lose sleep over little old me. I mean, just because I killed his parents in cold blood didn't mean I meant any harm..." Voldemort's voice trailed off.
By this time, tears were streaming down Harry's face, and he let out some kind of strangled cry. He jumped up and punched Voldemort, right in that hideous face. Voldemort stopped smiling and punched Harry right back, in the stomach. Harry grabbed his stomach and clenched, but raised his leg to kick Voldemort in the shin, hard. Voldemort started to cry from the pain.
"STOP IT! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!!" Dumbledore yelled. This came as quite a shock to Harry and Voldie, who were all tangled up in each other. Dumbledore gently pulled the Dark Lord to his feet and pushed him to the wall. Then he grabbed Harry and, in one quick motion, had him sitting calmly in a chair in front of Albus's desk. Harry and Voldemort were silent, and made no motion, except for the tears that were still streaming out of Harry's emerald eyes. Dumbledore told Harry to go to bed, and have a nice sleep. Harry went, and Dumbledore turned to Voldemort.
"Just what do you think you were doing? I had the chance to kill you, to stop this evil, and I believed you could change. I trusted you," Dumbledore said quietly, before turning and walking out of the room.
Voldemort was stunned. The disappointed look in Dumbledore's beautiful blue eyes...wait, 'BEAUTIFUL BLUE EYES'??? What was he thinking?? Voldemort leaned back, more confused than he'd ever been before. Why did he say those things to Harry, not through maliciousness, but to IMPRESS Dumbledore? Why did he feel his heart shred when Dumbledore said those last few words? And WHY did he get butterflies in his stomach when Dumbledore touched him, when he said his name? But Voldemort didn't need to ask those questions, because they were already answered.
He was in love with Albus Dumbledore.

Harry was not only shocked, but incredibly angry when he awoke to find Voldemort sitting by his bed.
"What the fuck do you want?" Harry inquired, glaring angrily.
"Oh, look at me. I'm Harry Potter and I'm going to go off and sulk because this evil dude showed up in my bedroom for advice," Voldemort mocked, his voice higher pitched than it already was to imitate Harry's.
"Wait...what? Advice? You? From me? What the bloody hell has happened to this world? I wake up to find this git staring at me while I sleep and he says he needs advice. What. The. Hell." Harry whispered groggily.
"Look, I need to ask you something. If you liked someone... How would you go about telling this person how you felt?" Voldemort questioned, looking at Harry with solemn red eyes.
"You? Liking someone? Whoa, this is crazy," Harry said, trying but failing horribly to mask his surprise.
"Yes. And if you make fun of me because of who it is, I will perform the Avada Kedavra curse on you, who cares about the consequences," Voldemort said calmly.
"Oh, you like McGonagall, don't you? I'm not surprised. Many of the old men like her. Or would it be Professor Sinistra?" Harry asked.
"No, neither of those. I...I think that I might be in love...with Dumbledore," Voldemort whispered.
Harry burst out laughing. He never knew Voldemort had such a sense of humor. Even when Voldemort yelled, SHUT UP!, Harry couldn't stop laughing. This was insane.
"Stop *giggle*, you are *snort*, making me *chuckle* laugh!!" Harry giggled and rolled on the floor. But he stopped, noticing Voldemort's expression.
"You really do love him, don't you?" Harry was stunned when Voldemort looked down and sadly nodded his head. "Tell him! Tell him, now!"
"But, what if he...rejects me? I wouldn't be able to handle it after all that has happened to me," Voldemort measured his words.
"I have got an idea. When I decided I loved Hermione, I sent her anonymous love letters. I've got her now, don't I? We are deeply in love and have even had mad, frantic sex a few times," Harry said excitedly.
"Oh, GOD. TMFI!!!" Voldemort shouted, disgusted.
"TMFI?" Harry asked, a confused expression on his face.
"Too Much Fucking Information. But, yeah, that is a good idea. Nice plan. I think I'll do it. How much do I owe you?" Voldemort inquired.
"Owe you?" Harry was confused.
"For your services. Don't you charge for advice?" Voldemort questioned.
"Uh. No." Harry spoke.
"Oh," Voldemort said, and walked out of the room. He decided he wouldn't hire house elves to rape Potter after all. That was good advice.

Voldemort sat, his eagle feather quill between his teeth, picking his ear, trying to think of what to write. He finally settled on,

Dear Albus,

Roses are red And tulips are yellow Someone thinks that you Are one special fellow.

Yours Truly.

He sighed and put the red piece of paper inside a black envelope, and sealed it with a sparkly sticker. He knew that Alby had a "thing" for sparkly stickers. He sent the letter with a random owl from the Owlrey. Now he would only wait.

Dumbledore read the note for the fifth time. He was stunned. A secret admirer note for him? He chuckled to himself. Whoever wrote this must not know that Dumbledore created a spell that can find who originally wrote it. And Dumbledore was determined to find out. He liked to know things.

"The ink on this page

Must now form one word Whoever wrote this letter Now shall be heard."

The letters on the page swirled and formed a word that said, "Lord Voldemort". Dumbledore was shocked. He knew that he felt something when he looked at Voldie, but never knew that he felt the same way. Dumbledore was ecstatic. So ecstatic, in fact, that he did a little jig right on his desk. Plus, he admired the fact that Voldemort was thoughtful enough to seal the letter with a sparkly sticker. Dumbledore had a sort of fetish for sparkly stickers. As a matter of fact, he had once had a fantasy about making love to a unicorn completely covered in sparkly stickers that said things like, "Good Job" and "Big Improvement". Oh, that was a good fantasy. Anyhow, Dumbledore took out a scented pink sheet of paper (his private sexy collection) and began to write with his sparkly (A/N: WOO FOR SPARKLY THINGS!) ink.

Dearest Voldie,

I knew it was you. I knew it. But what I wanted to say was, I feel the same way. I love you, too. So, Roses are red and violets are blue, you may not know it, but I love you, too. I love you. I LOVE YOU. Wow, what a relief to finally voice those words. Love, love, love. You. And me. This is amazing. Come by my office around 11:00 PM if you will. I have got something to show you.

Love forever and always, Albus Dumbledore. *Alby*

Voldemort read the letter. He stared. He...was in love. And Dumbledore loved him back. This...was amazing. This was all he ever wanted. And now he had it. Life was grand. Oh, and that sparkly ink...
Voldemort sat and watched the clock. 10:30...10:43...10:50...10:56!! Now was a good time to head to Dumbledore's office! He hopped up eagerly and made his way to Dumbledore's office, not hesitating for a second, even when he saw that man who called himself Filch humping a black cat, which was greatly disturbing. But Voldemort walked, not stopping. And then he was there.

"Oh, Voldie!!! That's right, yes... OH, VOLDIE! OH, VOLDIE!!!" Dumbledore lashed and tore and bit, balling his fists into the sheets. Voldie was a remarkably good lover. This was their fourth round of shagging in the same night and Dumbledore had yet to be tired. Same for Voldemort, apparently.
Voldemort stared unblinking into Dumbledore's sparkling blue eyes, noting how Alby's cheeks were flushed with passion. He loved when he looked like that. He gently kissed Dumbledore's cheek, rolling over to the other side of the bed, and staring unseeing at the ceiling.
"What's wrong, honey?" Dumbledore inquired.
"Nothing, as a matter of fact. Everything is...perfect," Voldie said. He was so caught up in the moment that he didn't hear the little click of a door closing somewhere...

McGonagall was surprised. She was stunned. She was petrified. She felt as if she had been staring into the eyes of a basilisk for too long. She shuddered. What she saw was...horrible. This ruined her. She had never told anyone but...she was in love with Alby herself. She always had been. And now the love of her life had turned homosexual before she could say what she'd wanted to, ever since that night she saw him cry, talking to Harry. But now it was too late. Or was it? Could she turn him around?

Dumbledore was not very surprised when a bouquet of sweet-smelling, black-tipped roses where resting on his desk. But he was shocked when he read the letter.

Alby, my dearest,

I have always wanted to tell you how I felt. I think it might be too late, with the Dark Lord and all that. I saw you two last night. But I love you, Albus. And I will until the day I die. If that isn't enough for you, I don't know what is. Voldemort cannot give you what I can. He is a man, and I know that once you have served his purpose he will forget all about you. I won't. Not ever. I feel as if the very beats of my heart are only there so I can wake up and see your blue eyes again...

Love,

Minerva

Dumbledore was aching inside. He loved Voldemort, but when he looked at dear Voldie he did not feel the heart wrenching passion that he felt when he stared into Minerva's crisp brown eyes. But what was he to do? He made love to Voldemort, and yet he had never even snogged Minerva. Who did Voldemort think he was, that bloody git, showing up here and sucking Dumbledore's well of love dry? Dumbledore knew what he had to do.

Both Minerva and Voldemort were getting prepared in their rooms. Dumbledore had summoned them for a meeting in his office. They were ready to go, and they both left, Minerva before Voldemort.

"I suppose you both are wondering why you are here," Dumbledore spoke quietly, almost in a whisper.
"Yes, that would be most helpful," Minerva said.
"Alby, why have you called me here? You know that me and this...woman do not get along. To bring us together in the same room is torture, on my part. I am completely shocked that you are not the least bit affected by her...hideous appearance," Voldie spoke, not caring about how red Minerva's face had turned when he said this.
"Silence, vermin. I am here to make an offer to you both. But first, I must say that it has been done before, and that it's safe, and that if you two don't agree with it then you will be forcing me to make the hardest decision in my entire, long life," Dumbledore whispered. "I want to know...if both of you would consider...dating me. As in, both. As in, at the same time. If that's okay," He added quickly.
Immediately, Voldemort and Minerva nodded in agreement. They did not care, as long as they could both have this...divine man.
Dumbledore sighed in relief. He had not been expecting agreement so quickly, so easily. But here he was, and the two people he loved most in the world loved him back, and everything was swell.

1 year later...

"Dumby, dear...Take the water of the stove...it's boiling over...take it off now....no, NO!! TAKE THE WATER OFF THE BLOODY STOVE!! No!!!" Minerva screamed. Dumbledore clumsily pulled it off and spilled it...all over Minerva. Minerva cried and shrieked and Dumbledore hugged her closely and picked her up, carrying her to the cold water that Voldie had poured into the tub when he witnessed the event.
This, however frightening as it may sound, was just another day in the life of Mr., Mr., and Mrs. Dumbledore. They were happy together, spending all of their time with each other. All the blame was taken off of Voldemort, for he was being controlled by a form of the old wizard, Grindelwald, who had taken on a form of a poltergeist, and could hurt Voldemort if he so pleased, when poor Voldie did not do what he wanted of him. Grindelwald was found and exorcised. Minerva still continued her job as a professor, and constantly had to punish students for teasing her about her relationship with Dumbledore, and she took an de-aging potion and she is the most beautiful girl who ever stepped foot on the Hogwarts grounds for that generation. Dumbledore followed Minerva's footsteps and took the de-aging potion and now he is the object of many girls' affections (Voldie wouldn't take the potion, as he feared it would ruin his complexion), and Dumbledore also bought a flat in France, for him and his family, and for Voldie to live in during school. They all lived in harmony, and the Wizarding World War was over. Harry was a little disappointed in this, but luckily, he and his boyfriend Draco Malfoy and his girlfriend Hermione Granger all had each other to take solace in...but that's another story.

Finis