Hogwarts did a handstand on the sofa across from me and then plopped onto the seat. They looked like they were about to burst into laughter. "Look, Harry, I've seen hundreds of thousands of students walk through these halls. I've seen into their minds; I knew their beings. Only thirty thousand of them ever passed my test. Only nine hundred figured it out the first time around. That's esteemed company you're in."
"Any famous names in that bunch?" I wondered.
"Ironically, Albus Dumbledore," Hogwarts said. "He's changed since then, though." They sighed. "He's not an evil man, but he's not well at all. He's having…difficulties mentally."
"He's going senile," I surmised.
Hogwarts scowled. "It's really quite painful to watch. You should have seen him in his prime. A stronger fighter for good, there's never been. But he's been descending headfirst into paranoia and insanity. He had potions to slow the decline, but…their brewer refuses to continue brewing them."
"Snape?"
Hogwarts nodded. "That's why Albus gave him such leeway. But Snape's luck ran out and now Albus's mental state has dropped precipitously. I fear you are in danger…though, in all honesty, I truly find the prospect still difficult to believe. I am guessing – and considering how much of human nature I have seen, my guesses tend to be very good – that he would not turn his wand on you no matter how tempted he may be. But if I am wrong…"
Was that actually a tear I saw in the corner of Hogwarts's eyes? Now that was a disturbing thought. "Alas, there is little I can do to directly interfere," Hogwarts lamented. "I have a great deal of latitude to protect the students from outside threats, but the internal ones, not as much, especially the headmaster. I have only this advice to give you: your weakness can be a strength."
Ugh. More cryptic bullshit. I hate dreams like this. Give me one where I'm surfing, thank you so very much! "Thanks for that," I said sarcastically. "If you'd care to return me to my regularly scheduled dreaming schedule…?"
"I shall, with one warning: Do not let your irreverence turn into arrogance. Your mother refused to let limits define her. It was her greatest strength – and her greatest weakness. Some limits exist for reasons."
"You didn't like Mum?" I asked tentatively.
"It would be gauche in the extreme to speak ill of the dead to their orphan," Hogwarts said, and that pretty much answered my question now that I think about it. "To your dreams you return, Mr. Potter."
They snapped their fingers and that was the end of that dream. Anyway, like I said, it was just a dream and not real. I mean, it's not like Hogwarts told me anything new. Dumbledore's a senile lunatic? Well, duh. I only decided to put it in the blog because I thought it might be funny for all of you to see.
Speaking of the blog, a lot of people think it's…impossible for some reason. Like, I've had a dozen people tell me it's impossible for electricity to work at Hogwarts. You know what I have to say to them? My mobile bloody works. Whatever theories you have are obviously wrong. Maybe electronic devices don't work for you because you believe they don't, have you ever heard of that? I mean, come on, how can electricity not work here? According to Hermione, who's a certified genius, the brain runs on electrical impulses. Could we even be alive if electricity didn't work at Hogwarts?
Wait, what if we're not alive?! What if we're all dead and this is some weird purgatory?! No, Harry, calm down. You've got to get your head back in the game. Purgatory is supposed to be boring; it's not as awesome as Hogwarts.
Hogwarts is a pure wonder. Moving staircases, moving portraits, moving suits of armor, there are a lot of inanimate objects that like to move it, move it. I've been taking lots of pictures for your edification, much to the horror of the staff. Multiple staff members have told me that the blog is a total violation of the Statute of Secrecy and ordered me to take it down, to which I say you can pry this blog out of my cold dead hands. And if I am dead and in purgatory, you can then pry it out of my cold undead hands. Okay. Focus. Pictures.
[Image descriptions: A variety of pictures taken of the various moving staircases, classrooms, Slytherin common room, ceilings and in one case whose context escapes me, a rubber chicken with eyes that appear to see straight through your soul.]
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