"Where's Pomfrey?" Dumbledore demanded.
With the smile on Robinson's face suddenly dropping away, he stared back and replied, "She's in Saint Mungo's and quit. I replaced her. I believe you were told that, last night."
As Dumbledore struggled to sit up, Robinson said, "I wouldn't do that, if I were you."
"You don't get to order me around," Dumbledore snapped back. "Where's my wand and glasses?"
"As the school medi-wizard, when it comes to the inhabitants of this school I most certainly do get to order you around when it comes to your health," he replied. "My word is law in matters of health. It's in my contract.
"As for your wand and glasses, if you looked, you'd see they're on the bedside table."
Quickly picking up his glasses, donning them and then grabbing his wand - the same wand that hadn't worked right for him since he'd recovered it from that infernal Bones woman - he hopped off the side of the bed and staggered as he tried to take a step.
"I did warn you," said the medi-wizard. But he didn't reach for him to help steady him. As far as Robinson was concerned, if the old fool wouldn't do as he was told then whatever injuries he sustained falling over after being told not to get out of bed were his own damned fault.
Dumbledore snarled something unintelligible back, braced himself up and made his way from the wing without even bothering to thank the man.
As he walked he felt his energy returning. He also noticed he no longer felt the pain in his half-twisted ankle, in his left hip near his tailbone or right shoulder he'd developed as a result of Minerva's 'unwarranted attack', getting bounced off the wards or landing on the cobblestones outside the main gate. So, the medi-wizard had at least healed him.
Arriving back at the gargoyle, Dumbledore demanded entrance. The gargoyle ignored him.
As he stood there, fuming, it was some seconds later before the gargoyle suddenly stepped aside.
"About time," he harrumphed
Not even waiting for the stairs to raise him he climbed them to the top. And then tried to open the door.
"Try knocking!" he heard firmly called from within as he drew his wand to magically unlock the door.
With his temper again ratcheting up, he knocked and then tried the door. Again, that didn't work.
Then he heard, "Come in, Albus!"
This time, the door opened for him.
He'd made it only a few steps within when he noticed the major changes and stopped dead in his tracks.
Seeing him suddenly stop and appear shocked, Marchbanks called from where she was sitting behind the desk, "What's the matter, Albus?"
He couldn't even call it his desk as that desk was not the one she was sitting behind where his desk should sit.
"Do you not know where to find your office?" she smirked.
"This is my office," he snapped. "What have―"
"No, Albus," she grinned back, speaking over him. "This is my office. I told you back in the Entrance Hall, when you were being rude then, that you're not the Headmaster any more.
"As I'm in need of a new Professor of Transfiguration, you hold a mastery in the subject and have already taught it once before, that's your job for the moment."
"And I told you, Griselda," he snarled. "I'm not surrendering the post of Headmaster.
Standing up straighter and appearing quite pious he said, "I have tenure. I cannot be fired."
She openly laughed at him. "Oh, Albus," she chortled. "That's quite amusing."
When he appeared confused in his anger, she explained, "You have tenure as a professor; not as Headmaster. You've not been fired from Hogwarts. You've been replaced as Headmaster. You're currently welcome to take your place as Professor of Transfigurations or quit. For the moment, that choice is yours.
"Trust me; very careful research was conducted to ensure we were right in this."
"We?" he carefully but more quietly asked.
"We, Albus," she confirmed. "The School Board wanted to make sure to what limits they could go to get you out of control of Hogwarts. That's when it was discovered your tenure only applies to your position as a professor, not your position as Headmaster.