FIC! entry 11
August 2nd, 1956

Gellert--

One of the perils of teaching for long is that one becomes accustomed to presenting, as one must to children, the illusion that one is entirely knowledgeable and confident in one's path through life, even when one may, in fact, be a fool and lost.

I never considered you my lapdog, old friend. If anything, I often thought of myself as yours for those few months, I caught up in your dreams of glory, I the one who felt betrayed when I realized the full implications of those dreams and the broken backs they would climb upon. But when teaching long, too, one learns to recognize when a dispute is simply--did not--did too.

Hate me, then, if it will make your remaining years easier. I am nothing but a lost old fool anyway. But, however much you do, I must ask after this British fellow you mentioned. This made-up name wouldn't happen to be Voldemort, would it? I would happily leave you well enough alone, but there have been ominous rumors round that name as of late, and I am compelled to ask.

That aside, farewell.


Albus Dumbledore

Your next random fact of the day: in Australia, non-pareils are called peckers! At least according to a bag of candy somebody here had. BAG OF PECKERS! We are amused. shadesong complains that she usually gets them only one at a time.

[entry in the Grindeldore for Goats Blogathon Venture; sponsor me here!]