MEMOS
Guess what I just saw.
A talking squirrel?
Yes, because that's the obvious conclusion that you would jump to.
Minerva, you asked me to guess and I gave up my precious time in order to do that. I would appreciate it if you could appreciate that.
But it was a stupid answer.
You never stipulated whether it was to be a stupid or serious answer.
Must I spell everything out for you?
Goodness, no, Minerva. That would be a ridiculous waste of time. Sometimes I doubt whether you have the ability to think logically.
Merlin help me.
What did you see, anyway?
Frog-Face-Demon-From-Hell.
Well, it's not unusual for one of our teachers to be walking around the school.
First of all, DO NOT associate me with that awful creature by calling her "one of our teachers" and, secondly, I was not finished telling you why it was so interesting seeing her today.
You know, if you were just to tell me everything in a single memo, you would save yourself a lot of time.
But it would also annoy you less.
It would also give you more time to get your paperwork done. Or those essays you keep complaining about.
It is called procrastination, Albus.
And it is a filthy habit.
…
Not as filthy as you, though.
Stop it. Now.
Sorry.
I should think so.
I give up. Why were you so interested to see Umbr – I mean Frog Breath today?
Her favourite pink cardigan had a little addition to it.
Was it that wonderful brooch you sported on Filius' last birthday, because that really was pretty?
Yes, Albus. I have been sharing fashion advice with Dolores Umbridge.
Well, it's not that – WAIT! YOU SAID HER NAME!
I DID?
YOU DID.
What do you care?
It's like a sign of the apocalypse or something!
Oh, Albus, one day you will find out what it is like to be an adult.
Not if I can help it!
Anyway, will you stop deviating from my wonderful story please?
As you wish Madam Hypocrite.
I shall overlook that.
Something's going on; you would normally kill you for that.
It's fine. I have your sherbet lemons and you will not get them back until you listen to my story and are polite to me.
I'll be good.
That is what I thought. Now… I was on one of my jolly little Saturday afternoon strolls to the Quidditch pitch –
Where you secretly used to go to make out with your boyfriends as a student.
Albus, what have I told you a – wait… what? You knew about that?
Everybody knew about that.
I feel used.
…
Well… Frog-Face-From-The-Deepest-Pits-of-Drivel happened to be walking the same way as I stepped out of the Entrance Hall. So, naturally, I invited her along for a walk.
You weren't planning on making out with her, were you?
ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, HOW DARE YOU SUGGEST SUCH A THING?
It is so nice to see you still using correct grammar even when you are raging.
No, when I say I invited her along, I really mean that I told her where to go (and you can imagine that that is not a very pleasant place) but she didn't take the strongly-worded hint and came along anyway. It was only when we reached the Quidditch pitch when I remembered that Severus had coerced me into allowing Slytherin to train this weekend.
When you say "coerced"…
No, I do not mean that he offered me sexual favours.
Just wondering. Do continue.
Of course, I thought she should see them play since she obviously favoured them, having let them reform before the Gryffindor team. Well, the second we stepped into the stands, the new Beater – Donnesley, I think he's called – sent a Bludger straight her way.
How comical.
That is not all! As she fell (all slow motion-like), a rather unfortunate bowl of blue paint just appeared in front of her. Then again, at least we know now why she doesn't wear blue. It really is not her colour.
Hahahahahaha.
Yes, it was rather marvellous.
Min?
Yes?
You put the paint there, didn't you?
How can you suggest something so low of me?
You did, didn't you?
Yes.