ficpost: "Gold, Frankincense, and Biscuits" Arthur + Dumbledore
Title: "Gold, Frankincense, and Biscuits"
Fandom: Harry Potter
Featured Characters: Arthur Weasley and Albus Dumbledore
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Timeline: Order of the Phoenix
Disclaimer: JKR, not me.
Notes: For a hogwarts_elite contest, reposted here for the first time. (Er, yeah. There're going to be a couple of these tonight.)
Wordcount: 839
Summary: Dumbledore stops by to wish Arthur a merry Christmas, and perhaps to apologize.
Gold, Frankincense, and Biscuits
"Ah, Arthur, I caught you at a waking moment at last. If you will just allow me to charm my umbrella dry -- yes, there, much better, it's a dreadful day outside -- now I am quite cozy."
"Professor Dumbledore, welcome. I'm sorry I haven't had time for a chat, it was a bit busy, yesterday, family and, er, friends -- and being injured is rather exhausting, I don't know how Aurors manage it."
"They're rarely attacked by giant snakes, for one thing, and they do spend a good bit of time laid up, if my acquaintance with some few of them is any indication. But it's Christmas, Arthur, let's speak of happier things. I brought you some biscuits from a Muggle shop."
"Why, they're shaped like stars and candy canes -- and these are Muggle, you say?"
"They certainly are. I find Wizarding sweets never have quite the same -- sweetness -- perhaps it's the constant fear of having one's nose hair elongated or ear lobes dyed pink that detracts from the pleasant experience of consuming them."
"But really, these are Muggle-made. But they taste just the same, not stodgy at all -- what gives them the lift without heliopowder?"
"Baking soda, as I understand it. But I'm no expert in Muggle cookery."
"And they're dyed without potions?"
"With chemicals, I believe.."
"Chemicals! You know, I'd always thought that was something to do with a chimera, but Bill sent me a most enlightening book that made it all quite clear, it's not, it's things they dig up from the ground and potions they make in, er, laboratiums I believe is the technical term. You must suggest the book to Charity; Muggle Studies was a bit dodgy when I sat my N.E.W.T. Hardly a subject worthy of serious study, most wizards believe, and with good reason given the quality of the textbook."
"Professor Burbage and I have spent more than a few unhappy hours deploring the state of the curriculum, but there's very little one can do when so few students volunteer to sit the exam -- and can you blame them, the way the wind's blowing?"
"I knew we'd come round to Order business. Well, get on with it. What dreadful consequence now?"
"I came only to give you the biscuits. As a measure of my thanks, you understand."
"And hope of continued support? Or are you here to inform me you're recruiting my underage son? Ginny?"
"Only my thanks, I assure you."
"Ha! -- From you -- ow, but that smarts."
"You're in pain. Shall I summon a healer? Perhaps you'd like some tea?"
"No, thank you, thank you, but it's just these damnable stitches -- very clever innovation, but they tell me the snake's venom was not quite, well. Anyhow, I've just torn them a touch, nothing unusual; laughter will do it (even if it's bitter), and the Healers are working on an antidote to the effect."
"Very good, very good. I will spare you the lecture, then, about the importance of sustaining Muggle-wizard relations?"
"You've always had my vote on that count, Dumbledore, you know that."
"And on other counts?"
"At the moment, there's only one that truly matters and that's, well, You Know Who."
"So we return to the pressing issue of Lord Voldemort's renewed power. It's most unfortunate that he's delineated the issues so clearly; it would be better, I sometimes think, to have a more open forum on the question of Muggle rights and the preservation of certain bloodlines -- but Voldemort has answered those questions for us quite clearly."
"I don't put much power in blood purity, of course, but there is a family line I'd like to preserve, if I could mention the issue."
"Your own."
"Yes, Dumbledore, my own. I -- I am perfectly willing to sacrifice my own comfort, and Bill and Charlie and even the twins are old enough..."
"But then there is Ronald."
"I know Molly's spoken to you."
"At great length and deafening volume. I won't intervene in his friendship with Harry, nor could I stop Harry seeking adventure even if -- that is, Harry's fate is as removed from my control as Ron's is from yours."
"If you would just advise caution."
"He would not listen."
"It scares me a bit, to be perfectly honest, though I am grateful beyond..."
"It would not be prudent for him to sense that fear."
"Of course not! It would be cruel, and I am not a cruel man, Dumbledore. Only a rather tired one."
"You are worried for Harry's mental stability, then?"
"No. I'm worried for his future."
"Of course, of course. The future."
"When he's finished Hogwarts... when Voldemort is vanquished (and good riddance, too) when he's settled in a career, married..."
"That is a possibility so delightful that I haven't dared entertain it."
"I'm willing to return to guard duty, or any other service you require, just as soon as I get these stitches out. Only... Albus."
"Arthur?"
"Promise me you will keep Harry safe."
Fandom: Harry Potter
Featured Characters: Arthur Weasley and Albus Dumbledore
Rating: PG
Spoilers/Timeline: Order of the Phoenix
Disclaimer: JKR, not me.
Notes: For a hogwarts_elite contest, reposted here for the first time. (Er, yeah. There're going to be a couple of these tonight.)
Wordcount: 839
Summary: Dumbledore stops by to wish Arthur a merry Christmas, and perhaps to apologize.
Gold, Frankincense, and Biscuits
"Ah, Arthur, I caught you at a waking moment at last. If you will just allow me to charm my umbrella dry -- yes, there, much better, it's a dreadful day outside -- now I am quite cozy."
"Professor Dumbledore, welcome. I'm sorry I haven't had time for a chat, it was a bit busy, yesterday, family and, er, friends -- and being injured is rather exhausting, I don't know how Aurors manage it."
"They're rarely attacked by giant snakes, for one thing, and they do spend a good bit of time laid up, if my acquaintance with some few of them is any indication. But it's Christmas, Arthur, let's speak of happier things. I brought you some biscuits from a Muggle shop."
"Why, they're shaped like stars and candy canes -- and these are Muggle, you say?"
"They certainly are. I find Wizarding sweets never have quite the same -- sweetness -- perhaps it's the constant fear of having one's nose hair elongated or ear lobes dyed pink that detracts from the pleasant experience of consuming them."
"But really, these are Muggle-made. But they taste just the same, not stodgy at all -- what gives them the lift without heliopowder?"
"Baking soda, as I understand it. But I'm no expert in Muggle cookery."
"And they're dyed without potions?"
"With chemicals, I believe.."
"Chemicals! You know, I'd always thought that was something to do with a chimera, but Bill sent me a most enlightening book that made it all quite clear, it's not, it's things they dig up from the ground and potions they make in, er, laboratiums I believe is the technical term. You must suggest the book to Charity; Muggle Studies was a bit dodgy when I sat my N.E.W.T. Hardly a subject worthy of serious study, most wizards believe, and with good reason given the quality of the textbook."
"Professor Burbage and I have spent more than a few unhappy hours deploring the state of the curriculum, but there's very little one can do when so few students volunteer to sit the exam -- and can you blame them, the way the wind's blowing?"
"I knew we'd come round to Order business. Well, get on with it. What dreadful consequence now?"
"I came only to give you the biscuits. As a measure of my thanks, you understand."
"And hope of continued support? Or are you here to inform me you're recruiting my underage son? Ginny?"
"Only my thanks, I assure you."
"Ha! -- From you -- ow, but that smarts."
"You're in pain. Shall I summon a healer? Perhaps you'd like some tea?"
"No, thank you, thank you, but it's just these damnable stitches -- very clever innovation, but they tell me the snake's venom was not quite, well. Anyhow, I've just torn them a touch, nothing unusual; laughter will do it (even if it's bitter), and the Healers are working on an antidote to the effect."
"Very good, very good. I will spare you the lecture, then, about the importance of sustaining Muggle-wizard relations?"
"You've always had my vote on that count, Dumbledore, you know that."
"And on other counts?"
"At the moment, there's only one that truly matters and that's, well, You Know Who."
"So we return to the pressing issue of Lord Voldemort's renewed power. It's most unfortunate that he's delineated the issues so clearly; it would be better, I sometimes think, to have a more open forum on the question of Muggle rights and the preservation of certain bloodlines -- but Voldemort has answered those questions for us quite clearly."
"I don't put much power in blood purity, of course, but there is a family line I'd like to preserve, if I could mention the issue."
"Your own."
"Yes, Dumbledore, my own. I -- I am perfectly willing to sacrifice my own comfort, and Bill and Charlie and even the twins are old enough..."
"But then there is Ronald."
"I know Molly's spoken to you."
"At great length and deafening volume. I won't intervene in his friendship with Harry, nor could I stop Harry seeking adventure even if -- that is, Harry's fate is as removed from my control as Ron's is from yours."
"If you would just advise caution."
"He would not listen."
"It scares me a bit, to be perfectly honest, though I am grateful beyond..."
"It would not be prudent for him to sense that fear."
"Of course not! It would be cruel, and I am not a cruel man, Dumbledore. Only a rather tired one."
"You are worried for Harry's mental stability, then?"
"No. I'm worried for his future."
"Of course, of course. The future."
"When he's finished Hogwarts... when Voldemort is vanquished (and good riddance, too) when he's settled in a career, married..."
"That is a possibility so delightful that I haven't dared entertain it."
"I'm willing to return to guard duty, or any other service you require, just as soon as I get these stitches out. Only... Albus."
"Arthur?"
"Promise me you will keep Harry safe."