Ron: Ah, it's good to be out of the Hospital Wing.
Harry: Yeah, now I get to kick Cormac's ass.
Ginny: I brought him for you *holds up an urn*
Harry: Aww, I wanted to do stuff to him.
Ginny: Oh, don't worry *flicks the jar*
Cormac: OW! Stop flicking me, my everything feels that.
Harry: Ginny, did you transfigure Cormac into an urn?
Ginny: Nah, the internal organ fire got out of control and burned him to ash. However, it had the unintended side effect of making him immortal.
Harry: You…made him immortal? Like, he could turn evil and he'd be unstoppable?
Ginny: You misunderstand what his immortality entails. You see, he won't die no matter what. However, he's still the same as any regular mortal in every other way. A skeleton can take hundreds of years to decompose, and he'd be alive for all of it. And he's a pile of ash now, so you can imagine the agony he's in.
Harry: That's just sadistic and cruel. I love it.
Ginny: *knowing smile* I know you do. And what else?
Harry: And I love…
Lavender: RONALD WEASLEY!
Ron: Aww, thanks Harry.
Harry: Ron, you know full well I didn't say that.
Ron: I know, I was just enjoying the last couple of seconds before I have to deal with this *Lavender grabs him by the ear and drags him off*
Ginny: Well, that was an unfortunate interruption. But anyway, you were saying…
Harry: Actually, I should probably go and see Hermione. See if I've missed anything important *leaves*
Ginny: DAMN IT! I don't know if it worked yet or not.
*in the Common Room*
Harry: Hey Hermione, why are you looking so cheerful?
Hermione: Oh, you know, casually mentioning that you and Ron were getting out of the Hospital Wing today in front of Lavender set her off, since she didn't know that was happening.
Harry: Yeah, I saw that. I take it you're not just happy I'm out then?
Hermione: I mean, it's a bonus, but not my main focus.
Luna: Hi Harry.
Harry: How the hell are you in the Gryffindor Common Room?
Luna: Dumbledore said I could to deliver you this message *hands Harry a note*
Harry: Seriously, why can't he do this himself? He's only involving more students than he needs to, and everyone knows he favours me, so why hide it?
Luna: Also, he expects you in five minutes.
Harry: You read the note?
Luna: No, he told me what it said.
Harry: God fucking damn it *runs out of the Common Room*
*Dumbledore's office*
Dumbledore: HARRY! You're a minute and a half late.
Trelawney: As I told you he would be.
Harry: Yeah, well, when you only give me a few minutes to get here, it makes it kind of tough to be here on time.
Dumbledore: NO EXCUSES!
Trelawney: So anyway, as I was saying…
Dumbledore: No, I'm not going to fire the horse.
Trelawney: But he's taken half my class from me.
Dumbledore: Great, you have more free time now.
Trelawney: My paycheck reflects that though.
Dumbledore: I don't see how this is my problem.
Trelawney: I DO!
Dumbledore: Of course you do, you're the one that sees the future.
Harry: Did you really think you were going to get through to him?
Trelawney: I suppose I should have seen that coming…
Dumbledore: Isn't that your job?
Trelawney: Err… *leaves quickly*
Dumbledore: HEY! Get back here so I can fire you.
Harry: Uh, sir?
Dumbledore: Ah, right. Give me Slughorn's memory so we can begin.
Harry: Did you really think I'd have that yet?
Dumbledore: Yes, now give me it.
Harry: I don't have it.
Dumbledore: Well, you suck then.
Harry: Yes, the 16-year-old who has several major school commitments and has been in hospital for a concussion for the last couple of days is the one at fault here, not the headmaster who claims to be doing everything in his power to bring down the world's ultimate evil.
Dumbledore: Glad to see we're on the same page. Now, let's get to work *uncaps a memory and pours it into the Pensieve* You better appreciate the effort I go to just to get these memories. I had to talk to *shudders* a house elf for this one.
Harry: Good to see your assholery covers different races too *goes into the memory*
Hepzibah: HOKEY! Get the door, it's probably that nice young Tom Riddle, looking to charm my pants off again.
Hokey: I keep telling you Mistress, he's not interested in you in that way, he just wants your treasures.
Hepzibah: Silly Hokey, humans only have one "treasure".
Hokey: What I meant, Mistress, was…
Hepzibah: I'm talking about my vagina.
Hokey: …I'm just going to get the door now.
Hepzibah: Tell him to bring his A-Game if he wants to get some of this *jiggles her flab around seductively*
Hokey: Ugh, I'm never going to get that image out of my head *opens the door and brings in Tom Riddle*
Tom: Mrs. Smith?
Hepzibah: Oh Tom, no need to be so formal. Just call me Hepzibah.
Tom: O…kay. Hepzibah, I'm here to…
Hepzibah: *giggling* Oh Tom, you old charmer you.
Tom: Am I?
Hepzibah: Oh, if you insist. HOKEY! Grab my treasures.
Hokey: If you're sure, madam…
Hepzibah: NO, NOT THAT ONE! I meant the box.
Hokey: Isn't that what this is?
Tom: I'm seeing things I really wish I wasn't. I'm literally just here to collect a debt on behalf of Mr. Borgin.
Hepzibah: *picking up a box* This is what I wanted to show you *opens the box to show a cup* Do you know what this is?
Tom: A dusty old chalice? Wait…is that Helga Hufflepuff's insignia?
Hepzibah: Uh huh. Passed down the family line from Great-Great-Great-etc. Grandma Helga herself. What do you think?
Tom: An odd thing to make into an inheritance, but then again, I suppose it was Hufflepuff, so I shouldn't be surprised.
Hepzibah: Damn right it's awesome. Almost as awesome as this one *picks up another box, and opens it* It's almost as impressive, right?
Tom: This locket…is it Salazar Slytherin's?
Hepzibah: Indeed it is. Not as impressive as Hufflepuff's cup, of course…
Tom: Debatable.
Hepzibah: …but both very valuable. In fact, Mr. Burke doubts the girl who sold him the locket knew its true value.
Tom: *looking interested* Really?
Hepzibah: Yeah, he said she just looked like a cheap tramp, so he gave her a pathetically low offer, and she fucking took it. I mean, what a dumbass.
Tom: *suppressing rage* Interesting.
Hepzibah: Obviously don't tell people I've got these, someone might murder me if they knew I had them…
Dumbledore: *dragging Harry out of the memory* No prizes for guessing what happened next to her.
Harry: Tom murdered her?
Dumbledore: No, Hokey poisoned her cocoa. What are you, stupid?
Harry: Right…anyway, why was Tom working for Borgin and Burke's? Wasn't he supposed to be a super talented wizard?
Dumbledore: Yeah, but to become the evil wizard he is today, he had to do the job that drives most people to evil: retail. Specifically, second hand retail.
Harry: Why does it sound like the author's speaking from experience?
Dumbledore: Anyway, somehow Tom heard that Hokey killed her master, and took that opportunity to steal the locket and the cup, then disappeared for a while.
Harry: And no-one thought this was suspicious?
Dumbledore: No, why would they? Anyway, this is the last memory until you get that memory out of Slughorn…
Harry: Or you could just look up what a horcrux is. I feel like that would be just as efficient.
Dumbledore: Nope, I want that memory *puts memory in the Pensieve* Let's go *drags Harry into the Pensieve*
Past Dumbledore: *hears a knock on the door* Who the fuck is it?
Voldemort: *kicking in the door* It is I, Lord Volde…
Past Dumbledore: Fix my damn door.
Voldemort: Are…are you not…
Past Dumbledore: Whatever you're saying, no. Fix the door.
Voldemort: *sighs* Whatever *flicks wrist, and the door repairs itself* Anyway, the reason for my visit is…
Past Dumbledore: The answer's no.
Voldemort: You don't even know what I want to ask.
Past Dumbledore: You want me to sign up for your cult, don't you?
Voldemort: …huh?
Past Dumbledore: That's right, I've been looking into you and your Death Eaters, and let me tell you, the muggles hated the same idea when Hitler tried it, and I…
Voldemort: I'm pretty sure the Nazis were a political party, not a cult, and in any case that's not even why I'm here.
Past Dumbledore: WHAT?! I made that speech up for nothing?
Voldemort: Right…anyway, can I have a job? I hear you need a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Past Dumbledore: Oh, Wizard Hitler wants a job now, does he?
Voldemort: That's…literally what I just said, yes.
Past Dumbledore: Well, here's what you can do about your application *blasts Voldemort out the door* AND FIX MY DAMN DOOR!
*back in the present*
Dumbledore: And that's how the Defence Against the Dark Arts job got hexed so no-one would last more than a year.
Harry: Wait, how did he hex a job?
Dumbledore: I dunno. Now, go get Slughorn's memory *blasts Harry out the door* AND FIX MY DAMN DOOR!