Chapter 13: Discussions with Dumbledore

As one, the heads turned toward the foyer and took in the sight of the ancient wizard in a flowing white nightshirt, open purple dressing gown and fluffy pink bunny slippers whose noses twitched. Barely visible from behind the Headmaster's left knee were green tennis ball eyes that could only belong to Dobby the House Elf.

"Ah. No need for apologies, Mr. Potter, no need at all," the Headmaster replied, waving his hand airily in dismissal as he stepped into the room.

"Although I would like to inquire the reason for this joyous occasion at, what is it now?"

The elderly man removed a golden pocket watch from an inner pocket of his dressing gown, and took but a moment to peek at its twelve revolving hands.

"Well, very late indeed, anyway. Ah, I see you received your birthday present. I trust she is to your liking?"

"Professor, she's beautiful!"

Ron turned toward the stand, noticing it for the first time.

"Woah! Mate, is that a Phoenix?"

"Yeah, Harry!" added Hermione. "I saw it while you were on the ceiling."

"Ooh! Harry, wherever did you get one?" breathed Ginny, moving over to admire the rare bird.

Harry blushed profusely, not quite knowing what to say.

"Uh… um," he stuttered, "a friend. Yeah! Um, a friend gave him to me."

Ginny, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione's eyebrows raised as if to let Harry know that they knew he was withholding information, but fortunately, the chose to refrain from comment.

"Wow, mate! Some friend!" said Ron. "Wish I had a Phoenix."

Harry smiled, "Yeah… some friend. I'm glad he's around."

"Ah, well. I'm glad that particular situation has been remedied. So, moving on…" smiled the Headmaster, rubbing his hands together.

"Dobby?" he asked, turning to the House Elf with a twinkle in his eyes, "Would it be unkind of me to ask for a cup of tea? Or possibly a large brandy?"

"No, no Master Dumbledore! Dobby is getting it for him right away sir! Would you like a candy cane in the tea, like is normal, Mr. Dumbledore, sir?"

"Ah! Now that you mention it- yes, I would. A peppermint candy cane would be quite lovely at this time of night. Anyone else?" he inquired humbly.

Everyone in the room (except Harry, who was somewhat more used to Dumbledore's odd antics) shook their head with widened eyes.

"I'll have a mug, Dobby. And any of those special snicker doodle cookies you might have lying around, too."

"Splendid choice, Mr. Potter, if I do say so myself!" beamed Dumbledore.

Dobby disappeared with a crack, and the gazes of the four remaining members in the room turned back to Harry.

"Harry?" asked Hermione, attempting to tame her once again bushy hair. "How did you know how to get down? I've never heard that incantation in my life!"

"Yeah!" cried Ron, in outrage, turning away from the emerald and golden bird. "And how the heck did you get up there in the first place? 'Mione, isn't it like, impossible for wizards to levitate themselves?"

"Impossible, no," piped up Ginny. "But difficult, yes."

"It's true," added Mrs. Weasley, also tearing herself away from the magnificent animal to face the Headmaster. "Albus, am I right in saying that you are one of the few that can?"

Harry thought, if only for a second, that he might have seen a slight blush creep up onto the modest Headmaster's cheeks.

"Ah, well… I can, yes, but there are a lot more wizards than you think that are able to accomplish such a feat."

Hermione harrumphed, "Humph. Last time I checked there were only five listed."

"Yes," concurred Mrs. Weasley, "and that's in the last two hundred years, even."

"Ah. Well- there you go," replied Dumbledore, smiling and his eyes began to twinkle merrily.

"I take it that you are gathering more concepts of wandless magic through your dreams then, Mr. Potter?"

Harry smiled benignly, "It appears so, sir."

"Jolly good. We'll have to work on that, come start of term."

"Of course, Headmaster."

Crack

"The tea is ready, sirs and missuses!" beamed Dobby, as he popped back into the room.

"Splendid!" cried Dumbledore, rubbing his hands together. "Shall we adjourn to the kitchen then? I think a nice spot of tea might soothe us over a bit before we turn in again for the night, am I right?"

The awestruck Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Ginny and Ron silently nodded and followed Dobby to the kitchen, leaving Harry and Professor Dumbledore trailing behind them, the Headmaster's pink bunny slippers squeaking each step of the way.

"Several more wizards that could self-levitate, Professor?" Harry inquired, with a smirk. "Are you sure you weren't stretching the truth a little bit there?"

Gazing down at his self-admitted (although only self-admitted) protégé, Albus smiled.

"Not entirely, Mr. Potter, not entirely. You see, Molly and Hermione only know of wizards that have been documented in the Ministry of Magic's records in the last two hundred years. I happen to know that there truly are several more than those currently listed."

"Ah. So several means more than two- two specifically meaning a 'couple'."

Dumbledore beamed, surprised at how perceptive the young man had become since they had last spoken.

"That is precisely what I mean, Harry. Several, matter of factly, meaning four. Those four being Merlin himself, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin and Andromeda Ancrofellen.

"So, you see, I was not fibbing. But you are correct in the fact that the intent was to make your friends believe that you are still "normal". Normal, in a sense, that is, so they won't begin to resent you because they feel magically inferior to you. You understand why I would do such a thing, am I right, Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded, grimly. "Of course. Nobody likes to hang around a showoff. Why do you think Malfoy has so few friends?"

Dumbledore diplomatically chose to abstain from comment on Harry's last statement. However, as they journeyed down the steps towards the kitchen, he spoke once again.

"Harry, I'm sorry to say, but sooner or later I will have to ask you what caused you to be able to tap into your power of self-levitation."

"I understand, sir. We'll talk soon, I imagine."

"I'm sure we will, Mr. Potter. My! How thoughtless of me to forget. Happy belated 16th Birthday, Harry."

Shocked, Harry paused in his steps down to the rest of Grimmauld Place's inhabitants that were in the kitchen.

"You know when my birthday is, Professor?"

"Come now, Harry. Do you think I could possibly forget, you being who you are, even without an invitation to your party? Which, by the way, I am deeply sorry I could not attend. There was an urgent matter at the Ministry with Cornelius."

"Oh? How did that go?"

"I am proud to say that I barely needed mention the contents of what you told me Miss Umbridge had done at school before she packed her bags and walked out of the Ministry. Well, more like ran, but, I dare say that she did not want to have to deal with me bringing you or anyone else in for an eye-witness account against her."

Blushing, Harry lowered his head and began to walk again.

"No, I suppose not. I guess it's just strange for me. Earlier this week Mrs. Weasley nearly had a heart attack when I didn't even realize that my birthday was coming up."

"Well, when one has memories of birthdays such as you have, it's no wonder that the date might slip your mind."

"I suppose so. I just didn't understand why she was so upset about it. I mean, honestly, it's just a birthday."

"Well, Harry, I think that is something that can only be answered by time. Wait a few years- or maybe thirty. After you're used to having your birthday being celebrated, if it's forgotten it's almost as if your entire universe is thrown for a loop."

"I guess I'll just have to wait for that one."

The headmaster grinned, "Well, Harry, good things come to those who wait."

Harry flashed him a malicious grin. "Kind of like those fluffy pink bunny slippers, right Professor?"

Albus laughed, and looked down at his slipper-clad feet.

"Ah, yes. Flopsy and Mopsy. I named them after the characters in that lovely little Muggle book "Peter Cottontail". They've served me well over the years."

Harry snorted, "You can't be serious?"

Albus looked hurt, "Why yes, Harry. I really did name them. Lots of people name their stuffed animals. Is that so hard to believe?"

Harry looked up, eyes wide- he had not meant to offend.

"No, sir! I just meant that you couldn't possibly be serious about reading "Peter Cottontail"! You really read Muggle children's books? I mean- newspapers is one thing, but books for children?"

The elderly man grinned sheepishly in was that was not completely unlike the way Harry grinned when caught at something.

"Ah, yes. I rather enjoy Muggle fairy tales, too. It's fascinating at the way they love to incorporate magic into everything, but if there's magic in a story then it is automatically assumed to be impossible. I find it ingenious the way they can ignore something so blatant."

Harry couldn't help but smile. "Bunny slippers. I cannot believe I have seen my Headmaster in BUNNY SLIPPERS that squeak and have noses that wiggle."

"Yes, they're a rather lovely gift," mused Albus, fondly glancing down at his fluffy pink footwear.

"Minerva got them for me two years ago for my birthday. I reckon she thought them 'sweet', and the castle is so drafty sometimes. Either that, or the rest of the staff convinced her to buy them as a joke. Little did she know how much I needed a new pair of slippers."

Harry giggled. "Professor, you never cease to amaze me."

"Well thank you, Mr. Potter. I certainly do try to keep my students interested. Now, shall we adjourn for tea?"

"Of course," smiled Harry, holding the door open and allowing the older man to enter the kitchen in front of him.

Shaking his head, he silently snickered to himself, "Bunny slippers. Honestly, who knew?"