My Meeting with Dumbledore

I find myself quivering under an influx of unspent energy as soon as Albus enters my contained vision. Stepping in through the doorway, the familiar apparition incites within my body a fevered energy that compels my heart to pump dizzying rapids of achingly hot blood about my person. I calm my incessant trembling, unable to look away from him, as he strides briskly over to me, his robes and beard riding softly on some undetectable breeze.

I find myself sexually attracted to him, despite suspecting he does not share the sentiment; and the words I utter: 'Mr Dumbledore, please take a seat,' ejaculate from my mouth with an insistency unmatched by the feebleness of their delivery.

'This is not like the usual kind of interview.' He has a twinkle in his eye as he addresses me. He smiles that famous mischievous smile of his. 'You haven't put on a spread.'

With a wave of this wand, he magics up a table with a plateful of sandwiches on it.

'I am kinda hungry,' I say, politely taking one and as soon as the sandwich has left the plate, another sandwich materialises to take it's place. I would be amazed but I am not sure how many beef paste sandwiches he wants me to eat, and I find his desire to feed me a little bit unnerving.

'This brings me neatly to my first question,' I begin. 'You keep Hogworts and the magic world a secret.'

'That we do,' he interrupts.

'Yes... Well, what I wanted to ask was: Since you can make food appear out of thin air, has it ever occurred to you create enough food to feed the planet? I mean, as well as feeding the starving people of the world, you could liberate all people from tedious jobs by providing them with enough food to feed their families. People could even leave their servitude because you could use your magic to get all the labour-intensive and undesirable jobs done.'

'When a man enters a room, does the room not envelop the man?'

'Excuse me?'

'The place where it is hidden is located on the floor where the ladies wail. Speak not lightly or the darkness flames might be your undoing.'

'Well...?'

'How about some refreshment?' He magics up a couple of glasses of some pink fizzy, sugar based liquid complete with umbrella, fancy straw, oodles of syrup, whipped cream and a cherry on top. 'I'm always partial to a glass of Lemospectorilla-ade with syrup and cream,' he says lifting the glass nearest to him a ingesting its entirety through the curly straw.

'That, erm, brings me to my second question: You consume a lot of sugary things in Hogworts. How come nobody seems to develop diabetes?'

'What is life without a little sugar to sweeten the pot?'

I'm not sure if he's coming on to me. 'Y-you can also perform amazing medical procedures, including re-growing bones. Don't you think this sort of magic would be helpful to millions of people in the real world?'

'Which world is the real world?: The world inside my head, or the world outside my body?'

I seem to have offended him.

'That's enough questions for now,' he says. 'I am tired. I think you have plenty of information for your interview.'

'Well, no, not-'

He suddenly waves his wand and I find an entire interview written out before me. None of it is anywhere near what I would like it to say and most of it consists of me unnecessarily complimenting Dumbledore for his magnificence and genius. I thank him and rise to leave. He remains seated so I walk towards the door.

Turning back, I find he is still seated, making small birds and butterflies dances around his head and humming softly to himself.

I go home.

Over and out for now, guys!

xxx