Post by gmshed on Aug 18, 2006 17:50:05 GMT -5
A/N: It might not actually be that funny, but I didn't know where it put it. 
It was the fourth night since he had arrived back at Hogwarts for his fifth year and Harry Potter couldn’t sleep.
He lay in his bed, listening to the breathing of the others. Someone was snoring. It was probably Neville.
The castle seemed so quiet. This castle, housing over a thousand, so loud and busy during the day, was still and quiet. Could he be the only one awake in the whole castle?
Harry gingerly crept to the foot of his bed, to his trunk, using the subdued light of his wand to see by.
Opening his trunk, he pulled out a piece of parchment.
The Marauders Map.
He tapped the parchment with his wand and whispered “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
Webs of ink spread across the parchment and he scanned it eagerly.
There were only two moving dots; Dolores Umbridge on the fifth floor and Argus Filch on the second. Harry assumed Mrs Norris would be accompanying Filch, but animals didn’t show up on the Map unless they were Animagi.
Harry quickly picked out his friends and moved on to the teachers. Severus Snape, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Sybil Trelawney, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva Dumbledore, Poppy Pomfrey, Xiomara Hoo-
Harry backtracked and stared at the two dots. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. The two dots remained stubbornly there, stubbornly close and stubbornly labelled ‘Albus Dumbledore’ and ‘Minerva Dumbledore’.
“Minerva?” He thought “No. Impossible.” But his eyes were already searching the Head of Gryffindor’s quarters, then her Transfiguration classroom, then the whole map. There was no dot labelled Minerva McGonagall.
“Okay, so they got married over the summer. I’m fine- slightly freaked out but fine. So fine I’m reassuring myself I’m not scarred for life. Well, a problem shared is a problem doubled, but at least you have the satisfaction of knowing your friend is as traumatised as you.”
“Ron!” He hissed, shaking his friend’s shoulder.
“Alright, alright. I’m getting up, Mum.”
Harry decided to ignore that.
“Ron! Are you awake?”
“Yes, yes- Harry?”
“Read that!” He thrust the map at Ron, keeping a pointing finger on the parchment.
“Albus Dumbledore. Minerva Dumbledore.” Ron read tonelessly. “No, I’m not awake. I’m dreaming. This is a nightmare.” He pushed the map back at Harry and turned away, already asleep again.
“Nightmare.” Harry thought dazedly. “Of course.”
He wiped the map, placed it back in his trunk and crawled back into bed, placing his now extinguished wand on the bedside table. All night he suffered from vague nightmares about a subject he had completely forgotten about in the morning.
If Harry had been watching the Map at midnight the following night, he would have seen a dot labelled Minerva McGonagall walk into the Headmaster’s office. As she passed through the doors, her label rewrote itself into a name that would give most of the student population nightmares.
“Harry Potter keeps giving me the strangest looks. Ron Weasley does as well.” Minerva mused, sleepy with wine, warmth and contentment.
The firelight took decades off Albus’ beard, giving it streaks of the auburn it once was.
“They are young men now. They’re probably just noticing how extraordinarily beautiful you are.”
She knew it wasn’t that. The looks they gave her were more searching, almost as if they were trying to remember something. But she was happy there, curled in his arms, sitting in front of the fire in a hideously coloured but incredibly comfortable chair so she didn’t say that.
“You are a shameless flatterer, Albus Dumbledore.”
“But you love me for it.”
“I love you for you.” She smiled, leaning up for a kiss.
It was the fourth night since he had arrived back at Hogwarts for his fifth year and Harry Potter couldn’t sleep.
He lay in his bed, listening to the breathing of the others. Someone was snoring. It was probably Neville.
The castle seemed so quiet. This castle, housing over a thousand, so loud and busy during the day, was still and quiet. Could he be the only one awake in the whole castle?
Harry gingerly crept to the foot of his bed, to his trunk, using the subdued light of his wand to see by.
Opening his trunk, he pulled out a piece of parchment.
The Marauders Map.
He tapped the parchment with his wand and whispered “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
Webs of ink spread across the parchment and he scanned it eagerly.
There were only two moving dots; Dolores Umbridge on the fifth floor and Argus Filch on the second. Harry assumed Mrs Norris would be accompanying Filch, but animals didn’t show up on the Map unless they were Animagi.
Harry quickly picked out his friends and moved on to the teachers. Severus Snape, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Sybil Trelawney, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva Dumbledore, Poppy Pomfrey, Xiomara Hoo-
Harry backtracked and stared at the two dots. He blinked and rubbed his eyes. The two dots remained stubbornly there, stubbornly close and stubbornly labelled ‘Albus Dumbledore’ and ‘Minerva Dumbledore’.
“Minerva?” He thought “No. Impossible.” But his eyes were already searching the Head of Gryffindor’s quarters, then her Transfiguration classroom, then the whole map. There was no dot labelled Minerva McGonagall.
“Okay, so they got married over the summer. I’m fine- slightly freaked out but fine. So fine I’m reassuring myself I’m not scarred for life. Well, a problem shared is a problem doubled, but at least you have the satisfaction of knowing your friend is as traumatised as you.”
“Ron!” He hissed, shaking his friend’s shoulder.
“Alright, alright. I’m getting up, Mum.”
Harry decided to ignore that.
“Ron! Are you awake?”
“Yes, yes- Harry?”
“Read that!” He thrust the map at Ron, keeping a pointing finger on the parchment.
“Albus Dumbledore. Minerva Dumbledore.” Ron read tonelessly. “No, I’m not awake. I’m dreaming. This is a nightmare.” He pushed the map back at Harry and turned away, already asleep again.
“Nightmare.” Harry thought dazedly. “Of course.”
He wiped the map, placed it back in his trunk and crawled back into bed, placing his now extinguished wand on the bedside table. All night he suffered from vague nightmares about a subject he had completely forgotten about in the morning.
If Harry had been watching the Map at midnight the following night, he would have seen a dot labelled Minerva McGonagall walk into the Headmaster’s office. As she passed through the doors, her label rewrote itself into a name that would give most of the student population nightmares.
“Harry Potter keeps giving me the strangest looks. Ron Weasley does as well.” Minerva mused, sleepy with wine, warmth and contentment.
The firelight took decades off Albus’ beard, giving it streaks of the auburn it once was.
“They are young men now. They’re probably just noticing how extraordinarily beautiful you are.”
She knew it wasn’t that. The looks they gave her were more searching, almost as if they were trying to remember something. But she was happy there, curled in his arms, sitting in front of the fire in a hideously coloured but incredibly comfortable chair so she didn’t say that.
“You are a shameless flatterer, Albus Dumbledore.”
“But you love me for it.”
“I love you for you.” She smiled, leaning up for a kiss.
xXx 
