Post by Headmaster Dumbledore on Jan 31, 2008 2:27:26 GMT
Abus walked through the corridors at a slow pace. His hands were clasped loosely behind his back, his lavender robes trailing on the stone flooring. His great, long, white beard brushed against his stomach as he walked. His eyes were peeled straight ahead, a sense of nostalgia gleaming in them behind their half moon spectacles. This would probably be the last time that Albus would be walking the halls as the Headmaster of Hogwarts. His time had come. His time to leave. He loved Hogwarts dearly, he had since he had attended the school as a small boy, and when the opportunity had presented itself to him to be Headmaster of the school he loved so dearly, he had jumped to take it. Albus hadn't ever seen himself leaving Hogwarts, but then again, Albus hadn't thought he would ever age as harshly as he had. Albus was no longer a young man who had his life stretched out in many years before him. No, Albus was in fact elderly. He was still as head strong as ever before, but he wasn't as ripe in his young age as he used to be. Albus smiled kindly at a passing student as he turned a swift right toward the Great Hall. It was about ten minutes until dinner and ten minutes until Albus told his family, the people he had grown to love with all of his heart, that he would be with them no longer. It was a sudden retirement in many cases, but Albus had planned this since the Winter Ball. He would finish out the year, if he didn't feel that if he stayed a moment longer than needed, things would be far harder than they would be otherwise.
As he neared the Great Hall, the growing chatter of his happy children drifted into Albus' ears. A sad smile touched his lips but did not reach his eyes as he drifted into the Great Hall, between two of the long house tables toward the front of the Great Hall where the staff table was located. There were a few professors already seated and talking to each, including the newest addition to their staff line up; Professor Isaac Thorne would be taking McGonagall's teaching position while she replaced him as Headmistress. Albus smiled kindly at McGonagall when her eyes met his, and he bowed his head in recognition before making his way up onto the raised platform and around to the high backed chair at the centre of the table. Severus sat to his left and Minerva sat to his right, her witch's hat perched perfectly atop her head as it always was. Severus was pretending to pay attention to Pamona Sprout who was jabbering in his ear excitedly about some plant that she had been harvesting for some potion or another. Albus realised just then how much of a family the Hogwarts staff was to him. He would miss, if not the school itself, the people inside it. Albus pressed his fingertips together as he watched the last of the students that were going to eat that night file into the Great Hall and take their usually seats with their friends. The chatter didn't die down until about five minutes afterward, though, when they began to notice that the food was not appearing on their golden plates and the pumpkin juice or butterbeer was not filling their golden goblets. Slowly, in groups, their eyes looked up to watch Albus, for it was only when he had something to say that the food did not appear. The Great Hall fell into silence as they waited patiently, some more impatiently than others.
Finally, after they all looked like they were about to throw a curse his way, Albus stood from his seat, his hands splayed out on the tabletop. All eyes were on him, even the professors'. He took a deep breath, and looked relaxed and calm, but if you were as close to him as Minerva or Severus were, you would see the shakes that protruded from his slim figure. When he spoke, his voice was strong, though, a complete contradiction to his elderly body; "Students, friends, family," his eyes travelled over every table. The Gryffindors seemed to be listening intently, and with his crystal eyes, Albus pictured Harry Potter sitting in his usual seat beside Ronald Weasley. That seemed like a whole other lifetime ago to Albus, and it pained his heart. His eyes drifted to the Ravenclaw table, who were all watching him with interest – their curiosity blatant in their eyes. There was not one person in Ravenclaw who couldn’t reach their full potential with ease. But next to them were the Hufflepuffs, and the Hufflepuffs were always the unsung heroes. Albus predicted greatness for the Hufflepuffs in his school at this present year, but he wasn't Trelawney – then again, he didn't need to be Trelawney to know that the Hufflepuffs were destined for greatness. The Slytherins, the Slytherins worried Albus. Great wizards came out of Slytherin, but they turned dark and terrible – travelling down the wrong path. There were few in the house at this moment that were capable of doing something respectful with their lives. Two students in the Slytherin house specifically worried Albus, but he wouldn't speak of his worries; they were just worries. And now was not the time for foolish worries, now was the time for words; "I have spent 62 years at this school. 62 fine years. I have seen great children come through those doors. I have seen magnificent witches and wizards leave through them. I have lived through terror upon terror. I have felt the greatest joy imaginable. I have, most of all, loved."
Albus stepped around his chair to walk and stand in front of the podium he had stood in front of so many times before this moment. All of his childrens' eyes were on him still, and there were few professors who were trying not to cry; most female, mind you. Albus smiled kindly and spoke again, his voice threatening to break as tears pricked his own crystal blue eyes, "Every year a new set of students pours into these corridors alongside the returns, but every year we lose some students we have grown to love. This is no different with teachers. Sometimes, it is just time for people to take their leave. Not to disappear entirely from memory, but to leave nothing but a whisper in these hallways for others." Albus coughed, pressing a hand to his chest. He wasn't unwell, he was just getting himself upset. He needed to calm down, but how are you supposed to calm down when you know you're leaving behind the one place you've called home for 62 years? Albus breathed in a shaky breath and looked around as his voice reverberated around the Great Hall once again, "This school, the people who teach this school, and you, the students who attend this school, have seen this world at its worst. Some of you can remember it more vividly than others, and others choose to forget it altogether. There are things that we wish to forget and there are things we must not forget, people we cannot forget, and feelings we do not want to forget.
"Forgetting only relieves you of the pain for a short matter of time. I, however, in my infinite wisdom of 155 years of age, have uncovered the truth to living without that pain," he peered over his half moon spectacles at the students, a sneaky smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "Don’t forget. If your heart hurts, it is because it does not want to forget. You will see many people in your lifetime, you will grow attached to them, and you will cherish them. When or if you lose them, it will hurt your heart, it will ache; and you force yourself to forget. Don't forget. Because the pain you feel in that moment is nothing compared to the pain you will feel when you realise you can't remember how someone looked or dressed or acted. Don't forget. Don't forget me. Perhaps it is too much to ask of you," Albus chuckled softly, "the pupils I have always considered my children, to remember me, no matter how unforgettable I like to let myself believe I am. But even if you do forget me, I can promise to you, each and every one, that I will not forget the ones who have brightened each and every day of my life here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will not and cannot forget you. No matter where I am." There came a loud billowing noise and Albus turned slightly to see Hagrid blowing into an extremely large handkerchief, tears pouring from his large eyes into his overgrown beard. Albus smiled softly and turned back to the pupils with a heavy sigh, "I, Albus Pervical Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, after 62 years of teaching, after 62 years of fathering outstanding minds in these walls, after 62 years of friendships and love, am retiring. In my stead, Minerva, or Professor McGonagall as you know her, will be appointed."
He watched each of the four house tables intently. Shock, sadness, tears, they were all visible from his post on the podium. Albus gave them a warm smile and it was as if peace and tranquillity exuded from him, "This is not to be a sad occasion. Please, do not shed tears over me leaving as Hagrid is. I'm not disappearing, I am simply fading into the background so others can shine through. With my leaving, Professor McGonagall will be able to run this school to the best of her abilities, which nearly beat mine," he gave his Deputy Headmistress a teasing smile, "and your new Transfiguration professor, Isaac Thorne," Albus waved an arm toward the new addition to the staff table who was inhaling from a pipe which Albus was certainly fascinated with, "will be given the opportunity to teach you in a way that Professor McGonagall could not, or in most cases, would not, I assume," another chuckle escaped him and he placed both hands on either side of the golden podium, "Tonight, we will feast, and tomorrow morning I shall take my leave. I don't expect anything big, as a matter of fact, I don't want anything big. You all have given me enough. You have made me the happiest Headmaster to ever preside over Hogwarts. For this, you deserve thanks. And I am, forever, grateful." Albus bowed his head to them and then lifted it after a moment, "Before we dive into this magnificent meal the house elves in the kitchen have prepared for us, let me leave you with a few words of advice: you are magnificent, every one of you, and you will do outstanding things, you will become fantastic people, and I love you. All of you." The words dwindled in the air before dissipating throughout the tables and sinking into each student. Albus raised his arms, "Let's eat!" He called with a bright smile on his face. As the words slipped from his lips, the food appeared on their plates, and he turned from the podium. The smile wilted slightly, once his back was to his students, and he returned to his seat; listening, once more, to the chatter (which was quieter now, but would build back up soon he was sure) that he had always loved listening to before. He would miss them. He would miss his school. Albus Dumbledore would miss being Headmaster. A single tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek. He didn't move to wipe it away, he just let it fall. A single tear drop on his shaky, white hand.
((Yes, it's true! Dumbledore's retired! You all can post here with your reaction if you wish. Don't feel bad if you don't. I do hope some people will post thought.
)
As he neared the Great Hall, the growing chatter of his happy children drifted into Albus' ears. A sad smile touched his lips but did not reach his eyes as he drifted into the Great Hall, between two of the long house tables toward the front of the Great Hall where the staff table was located. There were a few professors already seated and talking to each, including the newest addition to their staff line up; Professor Isaac Thorne would be taking McGonagall's teaching position while she replaced him as Headmistress. Albus smiled kindly at McGonagall when her eyes met his, and he bowed his head in recognition before making his way up onto the raised platform and around to the high backed chair at the centre of the table. Severus sat to his left and Minerva sat to his right, her witch's hat perched perfectly atop her head as it always was. Severus was pretending to pay attention to Pamona Sprout who was jabbering in his ear excitedly about some plant that she had been harvesting for some potion or another. Albus realised just then how much of a family the Hogwarts staff was to him. He would miss, if not the school itself, the people inside it. Albus pressed his fingertips together as he watched the last of the students that were going to eat that night file into the Great Hall and take their usually seats with their friends. The chatter didn't die down until about five minutes afterward, though, when they began to notice that the food was not appearing on their golden plates and the pumpkin juice or butterbeer was not filling their golden goblets. Slowly, in groups, their eyes looked up to watch Albus, for it was only when he had something to say that the food did not appear. The Great Hall fell into silence as they waited patiently, some more impatiently than others.
Finally, after they all looked like they were about to throw a curse his way, Albus stood from his seat, his hands splayed out on the tabletop. All eyes were on him, even the professors'. He took a deep breath, and looked relaxed and calm, but if you were as close to him as Minerva or Severus were, you would see the shakes that protruded from his slim figure. When he spoke, his voice was strong, though, a complete contradiction to his elderly body; "Students, friends, family," his eyes travelled over every table. The Gryffindors seemed to be listening intently, and with his crystal eyes, Albus pictured Harry Potter sitting in his usual seat beside Ronald Weasley. That seemed like a whole other lifetime ago to Albus, and it pained his heart. His eyes drifted to the Ravenclaw table, who were all watching him with interest – their curiosity blatant in their eyes. There was not one person in Ravenclaw who couldn’t reach their full potential with ease. But next to them were the Hufflepuffs, and the Hufflepuffs were always the unsung heroes. Albus predicted greatness for the Hufflepuffs in his school at this present year, but he wasn't Trelawney – then again, he didn't need to be Trelawney to know that the Hufflepuffs were destined for greatness. The Slytherins, the Slytherins worried Albus. Great wizards came out of Slytherin, but they turned dark and terrible – travelling down the wrong path. There were few in the house at this moment that were capable of doing something respectful with their lives. Two students in the Slytherin house specifically worried Albus, but he wouldn't speak of his worries; they were just worries. And now was not the time for foolish worries, now was the time for words; "I have spent 62 years at this school. 62 fine years. I have seen great children come through those doors. I have seen magnificent witches and wizards leave through them. I have lived through terror upon terror. I have felt the greatest joy imaginable. I have, most of all, loved."
Albus stepped around his chair to walk and stand in front of the podium he had stood in front of so many times before this moment. All of his childrens' eyes were on him still, and there were few professors who were trying not to cry; most female, mind you. Albus smiled kindly and spoke again, his voice threatening to break as tears pricked his own crystal blue eyes, "Every year a new set of students pours into these corridors alongside the returns, but every year we lose some students we have grown to love. This is no different with teachers. Sometimes, it is just time for people to take their leave. Not to disappear entirely from memory, but to leave nothing but a whisper in these hallways for others." Albus coughed, pressing a hand to his chest. He wasn't unwell, he was just getting himself upset. He needed to calm down, but how are you supposed to calm down when you know you're leaving behind the one place you've called home for 62 years? Albus breathed in a shaky breath and looked around as his voice reverberated around the Great Hall once again, "This school, the people who teach this school, and you, the students who attend this school, have seen this world at its worst. Some of you can remember it more vividly than others, and others choose to forget it altogether. There are things that we wish to forget and there are things we must not forget, people we cannot forget, and feelings we do not want to forget.
"Forgetting only relieves you of the pain for a short matter of time. I, however, in my infinite wisdom of 155 years of age, have uncovered the truth to living without that pain," he peered over his half moon spectacles at the students, a sneaky smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "Don’t forget. If your heart hurts, it is because it does not want to forget. You will see many people in your lifetime, you will grow attached to them, and you will cherish them. When or if you lose them, it will hurt your heart, it will ache; and you force yourself to forget. Don't forget. Because the pain you feel in that moment is nothing compared to the pain you will feel when you realise you can't remember how someone looked or dressed or acted. Don't forget. Don't forget me. Perhaps it is too much to ask of you," Albus chuckled softly, "the pupils I have always considered my children, to remember me, no matter how unforgettable I like to let myself believe I am. But even if you do forget me, I can promise to you, each and every one, that I will not forget the ones who have brightened each and every day of my life here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I will not and cannot forget you. No matter where I am." There came a loud billowing noise and Albus turned slightly to see Hagrid blowing into an extremely large handkerchief, tears pouring from his large eyes into his overgrown beard. Albus smiled softly and turned back to the pupils with a heavy sigh, "I, Albus Pervical Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, after 62 years of teaching, after 62 years of fathering outstanding minds in these walls, after 62 years of friendships and love, am retiring. In my stead, Minerva, or Professor McGonagall as you know her, will be appointed."
He watched each of the four house tables intently. Shock, sadness, tears, they were all visible from his post on the podium. Albus gave them a warm smile and it was as if peace and tranquillity exuded from him, "This is not to be a sad occasion. Please, do not shed tears over me leaving as Hagrid is. I'm not disappearing, I am simply fading into the background so others can shine through. With my leaving, Professor McGonagall will be able to run this school to the best of her abilities, which nearly beat mine," he gave his Deputy Headmistress a teasing smile, "and your new Transfiguration professor, Isaac Thorne," Albus waved an arm toward the new addition to the staff table who was inhaling from a pipe which Albus was certainly fascinated with, "will be given the opportunity to teach you in a way that Professor McGonagall could not, or in most cases, would not, I assume," another chuckle escaped him and he placed both hands on either side of the golden podium, "Tonight, we will feast, and tomorrow morning I shall take my leave. I don't expect anything big, as a matter of fact, I don't want anything big. You all have given me enough. You have made me the happiest Headmaster to ever preside over Hogwarts. For this, you deserve thanks. And I am, forever, grateful." Albus bowed his head to them and then lifted it after a moment, "Before we dive into this magnificent meal the house elves in the kitchen have prepared for us, let me leave you with a few words of advice: you are magnificent, every one of you, and you will do outstanding things, you will become fantastic people, and I love you. All of you." The words dwindled in the air before dissipating throughout the tables and sinking into each student. Albus raised his arms, "Let's eat!" He called with a bright smile on his face. As the words slipped from his lips, the food appeared on their plates, and he turned from the podium. The smile wilted slightly, once his back was to his students, and he returned to his seat; listening, once more, to the chatter (which was quieter now, but would build back up soon he was sure) that he had always loved listening to before. He would miss them. He would miss his school. Albus Dumbledore would miss being Headmaster. A single tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek. He didn't move to wipe it away, he just let it fall. A single tear drop on his shaky, white hand.
((Yes, it's true! Dumbledore's retired! You all can post here with your reaction if you wish. Don't feel bad if you don't. I do hope some people will post thought.
)