The Last and Lost Testaments of one Albus Dumbledore
A/N: I know it has been forever yet again. I just can't seem to keep going at a regular pace, although I am much enjoying this fic. Hopefully you all are as well. And yes, Arthur and Minerva are roughly the same age.
For Those of you who have made it thus far,
Yes, it would seem that things were coming into their own for me. I was deputy headmaster at one of the most prestigious wizarding schools known to the wizarding community, I had just turned down several job offers with the Ministry, and I was perfectly happy with the way things were going in my life.
When it came to Minera, I thought things were completely under my control. I kept things at a professional level, as any professor would with a pupil. But it wasn't long before I realized I was a pawn under her thumb in the torturous game of chess that we have been forever playing.
I was a fool to ever think that I had locked the door to my emotions.
FLASHBACK
"Good morning, all. I do believe this is your first class here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," I smile at the first year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, bright eyed and bushy tailed with excitement on their very first lesson. "with this holding true, let me explain some guidelines and rules..." I am interrupted by a chorus of groans from the pupils, and surprisingly, young Ms. McGonagall.
"Oh do come off it, will you please? All he wants to do is lay down some laws..." she receives quite a few death glares from her housemates and Hufflepuffs alike at the announcement.
I decide to forego the lesson plan for today to teach what I think will be a more valuable lesson to the students. "And just why, Ms. McGonagall do you believe it necessary to have rules to abide by?"
She is startled, I can tell, by my sudden line of questioning, but, as I would have expected, she continues on with that undeniable courage she possesses. "Well, professor, yes I agree that whilst it may be a bore to listen to the rules, if we didn't have any, there would by mayhem and chaos surrounding the entirety that is our school."
"Oy, that sounds like fun! What's to get your knickers in a knot for?" a particularly red-headed housemate of Minerva's interjects, and even though I am anxious to see what her reaction is, I have a set course of action for this class already formulating...
"Why yes, I do think that sounds like a splendid idea, Arthur. Alright class, have fun, and do whatever you wish." A roaring wave of cheers erupts throughout the classroom, and Minerva gives me a quizzical look that says, 'have you gone completely mad?' I sit myself down nonchalantly at my oak desk and fill out some paperwork for Headmaster Dippet that has been gathering dust for a fortnight now.
No more than a few moments pass before the students start to wreak havoc in my class. Minerva remains in her seat, dumbstruck at the events taking place.
Parchment flies about the room, books are laid askew, robes are thrown to the ground, and then...
"BULLOCKS!" A Hufflepuff student cries out in pain as he is hit with a minor, somewhat painful jinx. And in a gust of agony and anger, he returns the jinx to another student who had absolutely nothing to do with the situation.
The only other time I had ever seen a chain reaction like this was in my first year at the castle. We had all been dining in the great hall for supper when all of a sudden, I saw with my peripheral vision, a student's potatoes flying through the air. The target student was covered in the baked garlic starches, and in turn hurled his own chicken across the table.
It was, as I saw it, a beautiful ballet of food. I could almost hear the concerto playing in the background as the scene unfolded in front of me.
I could tell, however, as I was robbed of my reverie, that this was no ballet. My classroom had been turned into a manic house filled with savage, wild apes, and the dismissal was only a few minutes away...
I chuckle.
Minerva, on the other hand, only stares at me with a look of disdain on her face. She really has been brought up under the rule of an iron fist. And with that look never once leaving her face, she storms her way up to my desk, upset that her first class on her first day of her first year has gone completely awry.
"Can I help you, Ms. McGonagall?" Her scowl does nothing but amuse my ever serene facade.
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't understand just what it is you are trying to prove," she states, sincerity and seriousness surrounding her entire aura.
I set down my quill and fold my hands on my cluttered desk. "What was that, my dear?"
"I said I don't understand what you are getting at, professor," she repeats as a book flies past her right ear.
"That is what I suspected, but I wanted to be sure, I'm sorry...Did you say you...didn't understand?" Minerva gasps as a herd of gerbils for my sixth year class runs past her.
"Yes Professor! That is exactly what I said!" Her anger has turned to frustration.
I nod my head knowingly as I shuffle papers around on my desk, searching for a small tin. "Ms. McGonagall, maybe I can teach you something today after all. Sometimes it is not your duty to understand," she stares at me quizzically. "because not always is there a reason behind action."
"Then you are doing this solely for your amusement? Because I don't find it very humorous." She crosses her arms over her chest.
"Never you mind why I do what I do. I am an old man who is losing what little of my mind I have left. But if you do wish to learn something today, meet me back in my office this evening for a nice little game of chess." I finally find my tin and grab out a candy to pop into my mouth. As the dismissal bell rings and the students fly out, she opens her mouth to protest; clearly too upset and confused to join me for any type of learning right now. And so, to ensure a visit, I do what would bribe me to any occasion.
"Sherbert Lemon?"