Log in

No account? Create an account
Albus Dumbledore
[Most Recent Entries] [Calendar View] [Friends]

Below are the 10 most recent journal entries recorded in Albus Dumbledore's LiveJournal:

Wednesday, July 14th, 2010
10:37 pm
Hey, don't mess around with my journal.
Friday, August 4th, 2006
11:01 pm
After situating Draco with the help of a highly displeased Severus – who needed a gentle reminder about past situations in which other young men asked for aid in face of dire consequences of their actions – Albus spent the dinner hour, with his staff, dear friends all. He manages to make Minerva laugh not just once, but a few times over the course of the evening, by telling silly stories and sharing old memories. It's good to see Minerva laughing again. It's good for all of them to move past the tears and back to the laughter.

He hopes she'll find the humor and hope in the years to come, as he'd done. He reckons she would learn her own way to ‘roll with the punches’, as the Muggles said. Being a Headmaster or Headmistress of Hogwarts is not an easy job even in the best of times. He knows she'll rise to the challenge and make him proud.

After dinner comes a meandering tour of the castle which concludes upon the Astronomy Tower. He remembers sneaking up here as a student, yea these long years ago, more often than not at night with an adventurous girl. Chuckling at the remembrance, he breathes in deeply the scent of Scotland in summer. He'll miss the scents of the world, the textures. He thinks of poor Nick and his deathday feasts. To not be able to taste or touch - that would be a dreadful afterlife indeed.

By the time he returns to his rooms, it is late, but Albus isn’t quite ready for bed yet. Fawkes keeps him company as he sorts through various correspondences. He’d set his affairs straight long before the battle, being fully aware of the dire circumstances in which they all existed. Now he only needs to sort a few more letters into appropriate stacks.

He has one stack marked for Minerva’s eyes only. It includes the more classified documents: lists of wards and protective charms which need to be restored with construction, letters from Tom Riddle of Milliways, and other important notes and guidances needed for the transfer of powers to the new Headmistress of Hogwarts School. He’d written her a personal letter before the battle as well, and so he only has one last letter to write. It's for Harry.

Some time later, as he seals and addresses the letter, he muses how silly he would feel if he did, in fact, wake in the morning. Well, he’ll just have to feel silly if that happened. Better to be prepared than not.

“Fawkes,” he says, smoothing his hand down the phoenix’s soft feathers, “it’s been an honor and a pleasure.”

Fawkes cooes back in what could almost be a purr. When Albus retreats to his bedchamber, the phoenix follows on silent wings.

Albus is glad of that. As he makes ready for bed, he recognizes what could only be a pang of fear. He smiles as he climbs into his comfortable bed. He is human, after all, not some omnipotent being of immeasurable power. He is a man, a human being with frailties and flaws, and that knowledge is reassuring, somehow.

There's one more chapter to go in his favorite book, so he reads it before extinguishing the light. In the moonlit room, his body relaxes into the feather mattress, and Albus sighs. He is tired. It's time. He will welcome whatever change might come once he closes his eyes.

“Good night,” he sighs and slips into sleep.

Sometime in the following hours, he dreams of his wife again. This time when he reaches for Cordelia’s hand, he can touch her. Her skin is soft, and he can smell the atter of roses perfume she always wore.

“There you are, then,” she laughs. “I thought you’d never get here. I’ve waited an age, it seems.”

He returns the laughter and pulls her towards him, as he'd last done over fifty years ago. When he kisses her - and oh, but her lips are sweet - he knows he has passed over to his reward. He looks up, his hair auburn again and his face unwrinkled. More hands reach to welcome him, and and he knows and loves the smiling faces surrounding him.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore is home.
Saturday, July 8th, 2006
10:14 pm
Every night since the battle, Albus Dumbledore's sleep has been filled with dreams of people and places that are no longer. He's dreamed of friends lost in the past few weeks and of friends and family dead for years upon years. His dear Cordenia has appeared the last three nights, as she looked when he met her at age twenty. She's asked him each time to come join her, but he hasn't been ready.

He woke up this morning with the certainty that he would be ready. Soon. He'd see his mother and father, his little sister Arabella who'd died at six of dragon pox, Alphonsus, Nicholas and Pernelle, Lilly and James, Sirius - they are all waiting for him.

Fawkes squawks softly from his perch by Albus's bed. Albus sits up, the dreams fading into the sunlight of the new day. His health is much improved since the battle, thanks to the diligence of Madam Pomfrey and Severus's healing arts. His right hand is black and withered - it has no feeling in it, whatsoever, so it could be much worse.

"Good morning, my dear Fawkes," he says, and pats the phoenix's head with his good hand. Fawkes stares at him knowingly, and Albus nods. "It's time, I think, but not quite yet. I shall have a busy day today."

Dobby appears with a tray of hot tea. Albus always likes to start off the day with tea. "Good morning, Headmaster! Dobby has your tea."

"I thank you, kind elf," he replies, with a flourish and a half-bow. He's in a terribly good mood. Every moment, he finds, is marked not by sadness or fear, but by exhilaration.

He chats with Dobby a little while longer, making sure he sends the House Elf on his way with a smile and a sense of accomplishment. Then he rises, dresses, and begins the last day of his life.
Monday, June 26th, 2006
7:54 pm
The day after Black Sunday, Albus Dumbledore sits at his desk and does a great deal of staring into space. It's been a long, dreadful morning as more names of those lost the day before steadily stream in.

The castle is full of grief today. Children mourning parents, siblings, friends. The teachers are frightened and suffering their own losses. Albus grieves with them. Fawkes is not at his perch. Albus sent him to fly freely about the castle, knowing that his presence might help some.

The former headmasters and headmistresses stare out of their frames in shocked silence. Every once in a while Armando calls out "Any more news, old man?" and Dilys had been making regular reports from St. Mungos, but most have no advice to give. This is beyond their ken.

Albus needs to write letters. There are a number of children who have no homes to go to, once term ends. However, he thinks that is amongst the least of their worries at this point.

He's waiting for Severus. He'd rather not hear the news he's bound to tell him.
Sunday, June 19th, 2005
10:42 am
The Quidditch match
*It is a beautiful day for Quidditch. The day is bright and warm, a promise of the summer to come. The stadium is packed with excited magic users from all over the British Isles, as well as a good number of Italian supporters.

Dumbledore watches the crowd picking out the Aurors and agents from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement represented in large numbers. There are enough of them. They are prepared.

And yet...

Something is not right.

Dumbledore can't shake the feeling that something is not right at all. He keeps watching the crowd, waiting for the first move to play out.*
Saturday, March 26th, 2005
11:10 am
Owl post to Tonks:

Dear Nymphadora,

I am writing you in regards to Milliways and its current impact on those from our world. I should very much like to call an Order of the Phoenix meeting within the confines of the bar.

Minerva has informed me that you and the Head Barman are close. I took it upon myself to visit the bar a few times this week; do not be surprised if you did not notice me there. Sometimes one can take the measure of a man better through observation of his interactions with others than by a fleet meeting. I have concluded, as a result, that he is a trustworthy man who cares for the happiness and welfare of those in his establishment. As Mr. Wrangle is responsible for the bar, and events occurring there would impact him, as well, I have decided that he should be included in our meeting. We needn't give him all of the Order's secrets, but I think there are issues we all must discuss.

I feel this meeting should take place as soon as possible, if a private room could be arranged for the meeting itself. I trust you, Nymphadora, in your judgment on this matter. Please let me know when we might meet.

Respectfully yours,
Albus Dumbledore
Thursday, March 10th, 2005
8:22 pm
*Albus is sitting at his desk, finishing up his paperwork for the day when he hears the stairs. He looks toward the door.*
Friday, January 28th, 2005
7:04 pm
*Albus sits at his desk, completing yet more sheaves of endless paperwork. He hears the spiral staircase activate and as the door to his office opens, he greets Minerva without looking up.*

Afternoon, Minerva. How are you this fine afternoon?
Sunday, January 23rd, 2005
3:03 pm
*Albus sits at his desk, writing a letter. In between carefully chosen words, he reflects on the recent happenings concerning certain pockets of time and space at the end of the universe. It would perhaps surprise Minerva if she knew that he had frequented Milliways once upon a long time ago. He has a feeling his was an earlier, slightly different incarnation of the one she knows, but still, there are only so many places at the end of the universe in which worlds and lives collide.*
Thursday, January 20th, 2005
7:30 pm
*Albus Dumbledore sits at his desk, awaiting a surprising, but not altogether unexpected, visitation from one Blaise Zabini. Severus had arranged the meeting, warning him all the time of this boy's possible ulterior motives. Albus had smiled and nodded, waving Severus's worries away. He had a feeling about why Blaise wished to speak with him. Soon he would discover whether his hunch was correct or not.*

Well, Fawkes, we might have a very interesting afternoon.

*Fawkes nodded his head from his perch, and Dumbledore waited. The boy would be here in a moment.*
About LiveJournal.com