***************************************************
It was February 12th and Zeta was preparing. All the Death Eaters had crowded around her and told her how she was to look, how to act and how to be. Bellatrix Lestrange found it amusing that…the secretary, of all people, was thought worthy enough (or attractive enough) for Albus Dumbledore’s taste.
Zeta had been informed that she had to take out her braids. It pained her. Her braids were almost a part of her personality and she had stabbed a voodoo doll of Bellatrix Lestrange into tiny pieces in the staff toilet, until the cleaner had said, “You died in there or something?” Zeta was forced to reply that it was an “or something” situation.
Zeta’s Self-composed List of Image Atrocities
1) Braids are out and hair is bushier than Hermione Granger’s.
2) Ridiculous pearls are weighing down neck. I need a neck! I can’t breathe properly.
3) Corset. If I thought pearls were a problem (which I did) for the breathing apparatus, I was underestimating this contraption.
4) Why am I wearing a low cut black dress in winter? It is freezing. When I was wearing robes he found me attractive. Dumbledore, that is. Not the Dark Lord.
5) I wonder what he’s doing now. Not Dumbledore, the Dark Lord.
6) I hope he’s thinking of me.
7) He better notice the low cut dress. Otherwise he’ll be for it.
8) Who am I kidding? If he doesn’t, I’ll sink back into my ordinary despair and go back to my usual job of sorting through files, which is only topped in terms of boringness (is that a word?) by my social life outside work. And all for just the possibility of a glimpse…just a glimpse…
9) I think this list has gone off topic.
10) Amendment: I know this list has gone off topic.
Zeta sighed. She had to make this date work out, otherwise she’d probably be fired, and the best case scenario for a disaster date would be that she was stuck in data processing for the rest of her years.
Meanwhile…
“She’s got what it takes to impress,
The high heels, the fancy dress,
Nothing more and nothing less,
Is what I ask from this missus…
Tell me, darling, are you wed?
Nothing I like better in bed,
Than a sole lady or spouse newly dead,
Axe-wielding husbands I do dread…” sang Professor Dumbledore as he pulled on scarlet robes with constellations embroiled in the fabric, facing the mirror.
As one might have guessed from the song Dumbledore was singing, he was firstly in a fantastic mood, and secondly he wasn’t a fan of homicidal husbands. He was confident that Zeta and he wouldn’t be interrupted by a lethal partner, however, because Zeta was in her twenties. He was also sure Zeta didn’t have a boyfriend.
Maybe it was the way her handwriting leant slightly to the side in her letters, maybe it was the way she pretended to wrinkle her nose up in disdain for him when he saw her in Voldemort’s office “ Merlin’s beard, it might even be the fact that the cologne he was using had originally been Mundungus’ “ but the point was, he was in love and everything was going wonderfully.
“Nothing more do I want or need,
This professor is not full of greed,
Baby, we don’t even need to breed,
Because oh, I love you, yes indeed…” continued the love-struck professor.
Outside his door stood Harry Potter, with his ear flat against the door. Several disturbing thoughts went through his mind, the worst of which was that his headmaster was in his office with a woman.
And crooning to her.
Harry became aware that he was listening, no longer to off-key vocalizing, but footsteps. The part about Dumbledore’s footsteps that he did not become aware of until it was far too late was the fact that the footsteps were not moving away from him but coming towards the shocked, bespectacled boy. Dumbledore opened the door, and Harry fell over.
“Good day, Mr. Potter,” intoned the headmaster kindly. Harry scrambled to his feet.
“Er…hi, Professor Dumbledore, sir. I was just coming to see you,” he explained.
Dumbledore nodded politely.
“Of course you were. I can think of no other reason as to why a Gryffindor student of so high a moral standard would be falling at my feet, unless it is of course to announce your intention to take me to dinner?”
“Er…no, sir, it wasn’t. I came to tell you I’ve finished chapter two,” said Harry.
“I’ll take it from here then,” assured Dumbledore, taking the manuscript from the bemused teenager, “and I will make certain that it is superlative. I’m Editor-in-Chief now. Voldemort, monstrous fiend that he is, has given me a promotion.”
Harry began to frown, “Surely you don’t believe that he’s got any chance of redemption, or that his judgment matters, do you, sir?”
Dumbledore was shaken out of his trance by Harry’s emphasis.
“Harry, I don’t like Voldemort. I hate him. But it is pleasant, once in a while, to be appreciated for your true talents. I’m not doing this as a boost for my career! And while we’re at it, I’m not in love with Zeta Cartwright either! Honestly, you people just don’t know when to stop, do you? It’s my life, for Merlin’s sake, and I need a little privacy!”
And with that, Professor Dumbledore strode out of sight and down the hallway, with his buttons undone. As the headmaster appeared not to realize, Harry decided not to tell him. He was in a strange mood and that little eye-opener could push him over the edge.
Harry Potter; note to self: Find out who Zeta Cartwright is.
It was evident that Dumbledore was madly in love with her, but was in denial. Or, just a really bad liar.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Harry, if Dumbledore said that Zeta Cartwright doesn’t exist, it’s very likely Zeta Cartwright doesn’t exist,” reasoned Hermione as Harry took out fifteen books from the library, offloading most to her and Ron.
“You weren’t with him at the time. I didn’t even ask him,” Harry said stubbornly.
“But Dumbledore has always been a bit mad. Off his rocker all the time we’ve known him!” Ron agreed with Hermione.
“Yeah, but he’s never been in love all the time we’ve known him. I’m telling you, Dumbledore either has a girlfriend or wants one!”
“That’s sweet,” interjected Hermione.
“You can’t blame the guy for trying,” added Ron. Harry was of the opinion that he might as well be talking to a brick wall for all it was worth.
“It’s dangerous with Voldemort. What if his girlfriend is a Death Eater?”
“I’m sure Dumbledore has taken the recent events into account,” Hermione told Harry, but she was starting to feel nervous. Harry’s instincts about this sort of thing were usually pretty accurate.
Harry was no longer willing to justify his opinion to his friends. He was in the same sort of mood he had been in when running the DA meetings.
“Hermione, you take Dangerous Criminal In Society and Ron, take Death Eaters Redeemed? and we’ll see if she’s actually using her real name.”
Three hours later
“I’m bored and there is no Zeta Cartwright,” stated Ron bluntly, slamming the book shut and yawning.
Harry stared aggressively at page four thousand, five hundred and sixty two of his third book, before shutting it. He had officially admitted defeat.
“Are you coming, Hermione? We better get back before Filch catches us,” said Harry. Hermione appeared not to hear them, and was skimming the pages so fast Ron suspected she wasn’t actually reading them.
“HARRY! She’s here!”
Hermione cleared her throat and began to read, “Zeta Cartwright pioneered He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named controversial Muggle-baiting scheme, of toying with certain criminal Muggles before erasing their memory. This was two short years before You-Know-Who would publicly announce his intentions. She published hoax “findings” that this was beneficial to the Muggles, as a disturbance to their criminal side making them useful to Muggle society. In actual fact, the Muggles who were baited showed signs of depression and mental illness in several cases, even with strong mind-wipes. Her husband, Scorpio Cartwright -”
“Her husband?” exclaimed Harry. Hermione gave him a sharp look before continuing.
“Her husband, Scorpio Cartwright was killed for treason against Lord Voldemort before the birth of their daughter, Zeta Cartwright Junior. Zeta became a less prominent Death Eater and escaped Azkaban when the empire of Voldemort fell. She is believed to have died a few years later in an anonymous raid courtesy of “The Order of the Phoenix” “ an organization set up to prevent Voldemort coming to power, sometimes working in alliance with the Ministry, but always in their own interests. Zeta Cartwright Junior was very heavily involved in the Dark Arts and her ambition was to become a Death Eater. Whereabouts and career unconfirmed.”
“Wait a second “ he’s dating Zeta Cartwright Junior?” said Ron.
“It would appear so, which means that Dumbledore is in grave danger,” confirmed Hermione.
“How old is she compared to Dumbledore?” Ron said, incredulous.
“She’s twenty three, which should give you a rough idea.”
“That’s disgusting!” Ron gasped. Harry and Hermione were both clearly sickened by the amazing age gap (and the implications), however contained themselves.
“It’s also very dangerous,” repeated Harry and Ron had a feeling what was coming next.
“But I want to go to Zonko’s!” he protested
“Too bad!” snapped Hermione, “We have to stop Voldemort from taking over the world and you’re concerned about a few pranks?”
“We’re spying on his date?” Harry asked. Hermione rolled her eyes, as this was supposed to be Harry’s plan.
“Yes, so she doesn’t kill him or mind-wipe him or do something evil to our headmaster!”
“I wanted to go to Zonko’s,” muttered Ron. Luckily Hermione did not hear him.