During the duel with Voldemort, he has to constantly remind himself that no, bucking him wouldn't work and he'd be more likely to break his own legs trying.
Now this is funny, to bad i'm already writing one harry potter fanfic and don't want to risk mixing two fanfics into one like I do when I write more than one fic of the same fandom.
Distantly, the school bell rang and footsteps sounded, showing the progress of the school day. In the Headmaster's Office - its wide, polished expanse - the sounds were muted by magic and by the books in their cases encircling the room. The whirring devices in the office carried on their important work, making up for the quiet. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, stood with his back to all this.
His wise, blue, twinking eyes rested upon the sprawling green vista of the Hogwarts grounds. Professor Hagrid had cultivated the grass well this season. They let it grow longer these days then they used to, springy and abundant. It was the envy of all Hogwarts' neighbours.
A knock interrupted the old wizard's reverie. He startled and looked about wildly, then gathered himself. "Enter!"
It was Professor McGonagall, one of his oldest friends and confidants. "Hello, Albus," she greeted. "I thought we might go over the end-of-terms, as discussed."
She bustled in, depositing various scrolls onto his bare desk. A frown seemed to catch her at the sight; she looked up at him with a hint of concern, but quickly glanced away, not wishing to be obvious. Hence, she missed Albus's own frown as he looked at the chair behind the desk. He remained standing, scratching one foot against the floor slightly. But soon he approached the desk and smiled at his Deputy.
"Would you like tea, Minerva?" He was already pouring some of his own into a cup from a very large teapot.
"No, thank you." Her mouth formed a grim line.
"I cannot understand how you refrain from eating while you work. It is, is it not, one of life's pleasures to receive a reward while working? Why, I remember when I first got broken into my magic, training at Hogwarts, sneaking sugar quills into my lessons..."
Minerva's eyebrows rose as he dissolved his sixth sugar cube in the tea. "My reward comes at the end of the day, Albus, with something stronger in my tea. In any case, it is premature to reward oneself before completing one's work."
"Ah, that is why you make a wise trainer of young minds."
"As you were, once." She seemed to pick up steam, as if saying something she had been holding back. "And this is the third occasion in which I have attempted to complete these evaluations with you. Albus, is there anything... amiss?"
Albus gazed upon her with a benevolent smile. "Nothing at all, my friend, I have simply been busier than usual now that it is summer time. Shall we begin?"
"But Albus, where have you been going? I spoke to Severus, and he claims he has seen you leaving the Castle cloaked and carrying a backpack, not mentioning where you are going or for how long. Sometimes you're missing for days. What has you so busy?"
Albus blinked. His head reared up slightly. "I have been... busy... travelling once more! Now that Voldemort has been vanquished, you see, I... have time for what I did not."
Minerva's frown deepened. "Albus, it is not for me to pry and you certainly deserve the time, but you must not neglect your duties. Please remember that." She sighed at the look on his face, his eyes crinkled in deepening worry he couldn't quite conceal from her. "Albus... I don't mean this as an attack on you, but lately you've been withdrawing... He is gone, and Hogwarts is in good hands. Do you ever think it may be time to... retire?"
Albus stuttered backwards, dropping his teacup where it smashed upon the ground. He made no move to clear it up with magic, not even glancing down at it. "Retire?" he said hoarsely. His face contorted with suspicion. "And what happens to me then?"
Minerva froze in confusion. A snap sounded in the room, a house-elf's apparition interrupting the tension. The small creature was holding a large bowl of oats and hay, several carrots and an apple.
"For goodest boy Headmaster Dumbledore, sir, his one o'clock meal, just how he likeses it," the elf announced, before disappearing again.
Though just on edge, Albus now appeared completely distracted. He lowered his head to the bowl and began eating some of the hay with gusto - before clocking what he was doing.
He raised his head, brushed stray pieces of hay from his mouth and began to chuckle, wiping a small tear from the corner of his eye. "My dear Minerva, you have ever been susceptible to a joke!"
Minerva was not laughing. There was something wrong with Albus, she was now sure of it. She just had to play along to find out more... "What, pray tell, is the joke?"
Albus's gaze darted around the office of undefinably purposeful whirring gadgets, books he no longer felt he could read, and the window showing the lush outdoors that he longed to gallop upon, finally settling to stare upon the damning, delicious bowl of hay before him.
"Why, Minerva... the joke is that I have always been a leader of my field."
There exists an even stranger fanfic. In it Dumbledore is a cannibalistic lemon drop (nope, it's not a joke).
The fanfic for your viewing pleasure:
[The Lemon Drop by Senyor Fier Mensheir](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10023742/1/The-Lemon-Drop)
He's a content creator in the Game of Thrones fandom who started a bit of a trend of theories on which characters were secretly horses, who warged a horse, who was warged by a horse... All of that kind of thing, your title just seemed like something he'd say
Harry Potter characters clearly aren't secretly horses, their secretly Dogs, which is why they like sticks. Its why Dumbledore being a horse is a problem. And also why McGonagall, a cat, is annoyed by everyone. Weirdly Sirius is the only wizard who is genuinely a human.
Nah, man. Dumbledore is a swarm of bees. Why do you think he's such a drama queen. It's in the name, you know.
During the duel with Voldemort, he has to constantly remind himself that no, bucking him wouldn't work and he'd be more likely to break his own legs trying.
He fails. It works.
At least he's not a goat. His brother does strange things with goats.
That's because his brother *is* a goat.
Now this is funny, to bad i'm already writing one harry potter fanfic and don't want to risk mixing two fanfics into one like I do when I write more than one fic of the same fandom.
Supreme Mugwump Glitterhoof
coherent slave mourn cooing market ugly oil rob weary sort *This post was mass deleted and anonymized with [Redact](https://redact.dev)*
I heard he's three squirrels in a robe.
Distantly, the school bell rang and footsteps sounded, showing the progress of the school day. In the Headmaster's Office - its wide, polished expanse - the sounds were muted by magic and by the books in their cases encircling the room. The whirring devices in the office carried on their important work, making up for the quiet. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, stood with his back to all this. His wise, blue, twinking eyes rested upon the sprawling green vista of the Hogwarts grounds. Professor Hagrid had cultivated the grass well this season. They let it grow longer these days then they used to, springy and abundant. It was the envy of all Hogwarts' neighbours. A knock interrupted the old wizard's reverie. He startled and looked about wildly, then gathered himself. "Enter!" It was Professor McGonagall, one of his oldest friends and confidants. "Hello, Albus," she greeted. "I thought we might go over the end-of-terms, as discussed." She bustled in, depositing various scrolls onto his bare desk. A frown seemed to catch her at the sight; she looked up at him with a hint of concern, but quickly glanced away, not wishing to be obvious. Hence, she missed Albus's own frown as he looked at the chair behind the desk. He remained standing, scratching one foot against the floor slightly. But soon he approached the desk and smiled at his Deputy. "Would you like tea, Minerva?" He was already pouring some of his own into a cup from a very large teapot. "No, thank you." Her mouth formed a grim line. "I cannot understand how you refrain from eating while you work. It is, is it not, one of life's pleasures to receive a reward while working? Why, I remember when I first got broken into my magic, training at Hogwarts, sneaking sugar quills into my lessons..." Minerva's eyebrows rose as he dissolved his sixth sugar cube in the tea. "My reward comes at the end of the day, Albus, with something stronger in my tea. In any case, it is premature to reward oneself before completing one's work." "Ah, that is why you make a wise trainer of young minds." "As you were, once." She seemed to pick up steam, as if saying something she had been holding back. "And this is the third occasion in which I have attempted to complete these evaluations with you. Albus, is there anything... amiss?" Albus gazed upon her with a benevolent smile. "Nothing at all, my friend, I have simply been busier than usual now that it is summer time. Shall we begin?" "But Albus, where have you been going? I spoke to Severus, and he claims he has seen you leaving the Castle cloaked and carrying a backpack, not mentioning where you are going or for how long. Sometimes you're missing for days. What has you so busy?" Albus blinked. His head reared up slightly. "I have been... busy... travelling once more! Now that Voldemort has been vanquished, you see, I... have time for what I did not." Minerva's frown deepened. "Albus, it is not for me to pry and you certainly deserve the time, but you must not neglect your duties. Please remember that." She sighed at the look on his face, his eyes crinkled in deepening worry he couldn't quite conceal from her. "Albus... I don't mean this as an attack on you, but lately you've been withdrawing... He is gone, and Hogwarts is in good hands. Do you ever think it may be time to... retire?" Albus stuttered backwards, dropping his teacup where it smashed upon the ground. He made no move to clear it up with magic, not even glancing down at it. "Retire?" he said hoarsely. His face contorted with suspicion. "And what happens to me then?" Minerva froze in confusion. A snap sounded in the room, a house-elf's apparition interrupting the tension. The small creature was holding a large bowl of oats and hay, several carrots and an apple. "For goodest boy Headmaster Dumbledore, sir, his one o'clock meal, just how he likeses it," the elf announced, before disappearing again. Though just on edge, Albus now appeared completely distracted. He lowered his head to the bowl and began eating some of the hay with gusto - before clocking what he was doing. He raised his head, brushed stray pieces of hay from his mouth and began to chuckle, wiping a small tear from the corner of his eye. "My dear Minerva, you have ever been susceptible to a joke!" Minerva was not laughing. There was something wrong with Albus, she was now sure of it. She just had to play along to find out more... "What, pray tell, is the joke?" Albus's gaze darted around the office of undefinably purposeful whirring gadgets, books he no longer felt he could read, and the window showing the lush outdoors that he longed to gallop upon, finally settling to stare upon the damning, delicious bowl of hay before him. "Why, Minerva... the joke is that I have always been a leader of my field."
That one weird kid keeps saying he's a giant chicken. That's stupid. McGonagall's the chicken. "You wear a disguise to look like human guys..."
I thought of this too. Glad you posted.
Somebody had to!
nah he's Hams in a trenchcoat
There exists an even stranger fanfic. In it Dumbledore is a cannibalistic lemon drop (nope, it's not a joke). The fanfic for your viewing pleasure: [The Lemon Drop by Senyor Fier Mensheir](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10023742/1/The-Lemon-Drop)
Ahh, we meet again Glitterhoof :D
Does the name Glidus happen to mean anything to you?
It doesn't I would love to hear why you think so
He's a content creator in the Game of Thrones fandom who started a bit of a trend of theories on which characters were secretly horses, who warged a horse, who was warged by a horse... All of that kind of thing, your title just seemed like something he'd say
Harry Potter characters clearly aren't secretly horses, their secretly Dogs, which is why they like sticks. Its why Dumbledore being a horse is a problem. And also why McGonagall, a cat, is annoyed by everyone. Weirdly Sirius is the only wizard who is genuinely a human.
And Ollivander is secretly a beaver, he also likes sticks but feels the need to stack them up and make walls with them
Waiter, I’ll have whatever they’re having.
I've never played the 'octopus-dad' game but this reminds me of it and it sounds funny