Other People's Sandboxes

Written for the prompt "Somehow... whether in the Afterlife or via a portrait, etc... Snape and Dumbledore talking about Neville after the Final Battle, when Snape learns more about Neville's bravery."

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"So what do we think of the new professors?"

It was a traditional question, one asked by Headmaster Everard Litcomb every year after the first staff meeting. As the oldest surviving portrait, it was his right and privilege to begin the discussion.

"Hmph," sniffed Headmistress Charity Appleblossom. "Too young by far. In my day - "

"In your day witches and wizards were required to serve ten year apprenticeships before anyone would even consider letting them teach anything," Headmaster Phineas Black interrupted wearily. "As we've told you every year, Charity, times have changed. We can't judge today's staff by our own."

"Well I for one am delighted to see Miss Patil and Mr. Longbottom joining the staff," Headmaster Albus Dumbledore proclaimed. "They were both fine students and - " He was interrupted by an indignant snort that came from his left.

"Do you have something to add, Headmaster Snape?" Headmaster Litcomb asked pointedly. Few of the Headmasters believed Snape deserved his place on the wall along side them, but Hogwarts's magic refused to let his painting be removed, and so he remained.

"Patil might have been a passable student, but Longbottom always was and every will be an incompetent idiot. How he got sorted into Gryffindor and not Hufflepuff I'll never understand."

"He survived seven years in the same castle with you," Black pointed out over the indignant squawks of the former Hufflepuffs. "That certainly shows a certain amount of courage."

"Bah. Cowardice, you mean. Never once did I see him stand up for himself," Snape retorted.

"I'd hardly call defying Tom to his face and killing Nagini an act of cowardice, Severus," Dumbledore chided gently.

"He - what?"

"Did you truly never know? He was the one - not Harry - who slew the snake that killed you."

"Drew Gryffindor's own sword, to do it too!" crowed Headmaster Dexter Fortescue.

Snape opened his mouth and snapped it shut again. "Hmmh," he finally said. "Perhaps the boy isn't useless after all."

Title: Defeated!
Rating: G
Pairing/Character(s): Dumbledore
Challenge: n/a
Warnings: abject silliness?
Author’s Notes: The drabble bunny bit me. It’s not my fault! Really!

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Defeating Grindelwald? Done.

Vanquishing Voldemort? No problem.

Handling combative Slytherin and Gryffindor boys? Piece of cake.

Especially when compared to what lay before him.

Albus Dumbledore sadly looked at his desk. Cautiously, he poked at a large pile of paperwork that threatened to start an avalanche, potentially taking the entire contents of the room with it. It did not topple, but several new piles seemed to spring up. Yes, that one on the chair was definitely new.

With a sigh he picked up a pinch of Floo Powder.

“Minerva,” he called plaintively into the fire, “the paperwork is winning again!”

Title: Flashback
Words: 100
Character(s): Dumbledore
Rating: G
Summary: Scent is one of the strongest senses tied to memory.
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The flashback hit him hard, like running into a wall. And like a wall, it was solid and unyielding. The only thing he could do was ride it out.

The smell was what brought him back. The charred, twisted metal. The scorched stone. The wood, fabric, man-made polymers, all burnt beyond recognition. He was in London and the bombs were falling. A powerful wizard, yes, but he was still helpless to save those around him.

Blinking, he came back to the present, and surveyed the smoldering remains of the village. Again, there was that smell, and again he was helpless.

Title: The Cabinet War Rooms
Written For: hilarita, in the sweetsaddiction Albus ficathon
Rating: a mild PG, for the unpleasantness of war
Characters: Albus and various others
Spoilers? Probably some for HBP, but nothing too major – this takes place 50 some years before, after all! Written pre-DH
Disclaimer: Anyone you recognize belongs to JKR. Except the real people. They belong to themselves. Or their estates, I suppose. Everyone else exists in my head and can only come out and play if I say so. I am not a Londoner myself, so I apologize for any and all errors. Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.
A/N: The middle of October, 1940, was one of the periods of heaviest bombing by the German air force on the city of London, and much of the area around Parliament was destroyed. The Leaky Cauldron, located on Charing Cross Road, just north of the government buildings, would surely have been effected by such devastation.

Second Author's Note: This story was remixed into Letters Sometimes Lie (the Famous Last Stand Remix) [Dumbledore, Grindelwald, 250 words, rated PG, no warnings] by iambickilometer for Round 7 of remixthedrabble
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( The Cabinet War Rooms )