The Hogwarts Beach Trip Episode / Harry learns why Albus doesn't drink

The sun was shining and the ocean was glistening with sunlight, which could damage the eyes as easily as the sun itself; by consequence the ever thoughtful Poppy had thought to require everyone in attendance to have dark shields over their eyes, remotely similar to a muggle's sunglasses. She had only a few years earlier begun her service at Hogwarts, but she was already an excellent Healer and perhaps the best head of the Hospital Wing the school had ever seen.

"Do you really think it wise, Headmaster, for the students to take a trip together away from the school, with all that is going on?" she had asked in his office during the planning phase. Horace was already having the higher years brewing a lasting poultice to protect the students' skin.

"There is no better time to go to the beach, Poppy," Albus responded. "When the days are well and truly dark, our duty is to remind the students that the sun will rise on the morrow. I should think it will be good for inter-House unity as well."

With that it was decided.

Setting up his beach chair and parasol with a wave of his wand, he watched as the students had the expected mixed reaction to being portkeyed to a strange beach in their swimsuits, with James Potter and his friends being the first in the water. Others were milling about in the sands, talking and exchanging pleasantries, though they seemed inclined to divide up into groups, which he hoped were not entirely based on House. Poppy, now lying on a towel next to him, had asked a few of the Prefects to get the students to play a game of volleyball with randomized teams. Her brow was decidedly knitted.

"Worry not. I am sure once they have all been through the water, the Gryffindors will be more interested in a good sporting event."

"I was looking at you, Headmaster."

"Were you?" He was wearing an old fashioned striped swimming suit, with a fair few more colors than the standard black and white, which rather looked like prisoner garb in his opinion. In addition, he applied some of Horace's potion to his crooked nose.

"Indeed. Your costume appears a touch... No, now that I have come this far I find I cannot say it."

Albus merely winked before turning back to the students, getting out his binoculars. He had promised to watch them, but since few outside forces knew the trip was even happening, he doubted that there would be any trouble. It was only the graduating class that had come along, after all, so it was not as if the few faculty present could not supervise. There was also nothing explicitly stated in his guarantee of their safety that he would not watch some more than others.

James Potter and his friends had apparently goaded most of the other boys into splashing each other, most likely assisting their efforts with magic. With no place to store their wands, the students had almost entirely left them with their uniforms, but the more talented among them were capable of a few tricks without them. It seemed that the students who had brought provisions had already realized there were no burners like in Potions class, but this would not deter them.

A local man sauntered over with a tray of what appeared to be frilly, fruity drinks, which he levitated directly in front of Poppy. Reaching over her, he picked up one and asked to open a tab, leaving a galleon on the tray. Treating himself to the nearly nostalgic sensation of alcohol, he mentally commented that it truly had been a long time since he had been on vacation.

Using once more his magical binoculars, it seemed Severus Snape was standing around alone, which was a common sight. It was evident that he had some sort of admiration for Lily Evans, but she was popular among the other witches, and consequently he could not bring himself to be near her. Albus mentally shrugged. His teenage awkwardness was one of the least concerning things he had learned about the boy; most other things he had learned from questioning Avery or Mulciber every time they were caught on rule violations.

"You never seem to get caught yourself, do you, Severus?" he asked no one in particular. It appeared Poppy had her nose in a book. He turned to the other students who seemed to stand out for some reason, either because of their hair color or because their facial features were easily distinguished. "Perhaps the years are finally getting to my sight..."

In any case, it seemed Peter Pettigrew was still lagging behind his friends and waited for others to come up with ideas, but he seemed content with the life of a follower. Remus Lupin was practically snarling with Sirius Black, who appeared to have found another use for the dark shields over his eyes; namely staring at a crowd of witches. His other friends copied him with perfect shamelessness, though Peter lacked such boldness. Looking over at Lily Evans and her group of friends, it appeared they had noticed quickly, some of them getting out their wands.

"Lily! James is staring at your butt again!"

"He had better- be sure to notify me if he stares at anyone else's and I'll hex him silly."

"But I won't know if he's staring at someone else's butt!"

"Then how did you know he was staring at mine in the first place?!"

Looking back at the little gang, it seemed Sirius and James responded only with a high-five.

"Just look at their faces, they're smirking!" Lily's Ravenclaw friend objected, her complaints falling on deaf ears. The scene was interrupted by more students jumping into the water, causing another magically enhanced splash, upsetting the sunbathers, if only temporarily. It seemed like they were inclined to run themselves out of energy before eating. He had every expectation they would eat with their friends, but the volley ball game promised to mix things up a little. Most of the pure blood children had not been introduced to the game, but apparently it was quite irresistible at beaches.

"A pity Minerva had to send her regrets," he mused, heard only by Poppy. "She would have had the greatest of joy in disciplining the students for rule violations out here."

"Perhaps, but she insisted on watching the castle and the younger students whilst you were away." The Healer turned her eyes back to the students as he did the same. "I also do not believe I have seen her in anything but professional robes, and she most certainly intends to keep it that way."

The Prefects were assembling their Houses and calling for order as they counted off, directing either number to one side of the magical net or the other. It was quicker, he supposed, than getting them all into a line and making it so that only one student at a time could receive a number; as long as each Prefect named half one and half the other, the teams would be the same. Albus mused that it was almost pointless, with only seventh-years, to have prefects at all, but there were times and places he was glad for them.

The game started quickly, with the teams decided at random and the ball either conjured or transfigured, with some students acting competitive, and others inclined only to have a good time with it, since it could not possibly count for points anyway. As he expected, those who grew up around muggles seemed to understand the game and its rules better than others. Sirius was throwing the ball over the net to allow the other team to serve.

"Eva, maybe you should jump higher when you serve it!" he suggested. Remus was only shaking his head, but his nonverbal advice was ignored. The Headmaster looked away from her as she served again, though it seemed none of the younger wizards were similarly inclined. He sighed.

"Really, Miss Parkinson, even I knew why he suggested it," Albus muttered. Rising, he ambled over on the pretense of officiating the game. It seemed the scores had been counted fairly thus far, but one could never be too careful. The last thing he wanted was accusations passed back and forth over the net instead of a ball. Without his influence, it seemed the students had added an additional rule to the effect that if a player missed a ball, he or she would be eliminated and replaced by one of the waiting students in the lines on either side of the net.

However competitive it became, it looked like they were all having great fun.

Lily Evans came up to him with a group of friends, possibly all having been eliminated. Behind them, Severus Snape appeared to be spying on her with his own associates.

"Professor Dumbledore, it may be a little late to ask, but where exactly are we?"

"It is never too late to ask questions, Miss Evans. We are on the rather large, rectangular island of Antillia in the Atlantic. There is a small wizarding population here, so now would be a good time to brush up on your Spanish if you and your friends have any intention of going into town."

"I thought this place didn't really exist, though."

"That's what we wanted you to think you stupid mudblood," Avery explained from behind her.

"For what it is worth, you are both more or less correct. The muggle sailors who found this island could never find it again, so to muggles, it never existed. What happened was the Spanish wizards decided to capture it as an exclusively magical colony, and put up early muggle-repelling charms to keep the nonmagical away."

"Interesting, Professor," Lily commented, still staring daggers at the Slytherins. Severus was looking elsewhere. It seemed a seagull had caught his attention.

The volleyball game was down to a few students on each side, which made everyone want to watch. Several people were shouting at Peter, since it appeared to some that he had gone under the net, despite his insistence of having done no such thing. Albus apologized for having taken his eyes off the game for a moment and let it go. With the final point scored, Sirius picked up the Slytherin girl who had served it, putting her on his shoulder with a few of his teammates, to the momentary chagrin of his friend James, who was on the losing team.

Dejection was easily forgotten as the students who had been working on the provisions apparently transfigured a grille with magical fire beneath, and everyone ate with excitement and appreciation. They seemed to take the opportunity to sit and talk with each other, and he was happy to see some of them appeared to be sitting with students from other Houses. Perhaps it was too late in their academic career to be making new friends, but the world would not be full of all their old friends when they moved out into it.

"Butterbeer!" someone shouted. Albus's head turned. Of all the developments of the trip, this was the least expected. He knew not how the alcohol had been procured, but it was quickly handed out and students were drinking all around, some of them imbibing sterner stuff indeed. Poppy merely shook her head when he looked back.

"Yes, perhaps it is no trouble; they are adults after all. Maudlin spirits are to be welcome at times like these." He took a sip or two of what tasted like firewhiskey that a giddy student handed him, perhaps to impair his judgement. "Clever, clever." He wondered how his brother had ever gotten into the business of selling such products; it had been many years since he had consumed any himself.

Looking up, he noticed students were dancing in the sands. He laughed, thinking he should have seen it coming. They were getting a little blurrier with each sip of alcohol, so he walked over to see them better when he found himself getting pulled along into some muggle number called a hustle. Things seemed like they were going so well, he could hardly resist going along with the crowd. Time seemed to slow down as some of the heavier drinkers were already dropping. Looking back to the Healer, it seemed she had already disapparated.

"Come students, the night is... yet young," he insisted, finishing the bottle. He heard several slurring cheers as his vision darkened, and he was sure his movements were getting slow and awkward. The last thing he could remember was landing on top of someone else who was already passed out.

One Hundred Years Later

The Master of Death sat across from him in a bitter cold room lit only by candles of blue flame. It had been many years since anyone had called him Harry, but that was still the name by which Albus knew him, wizened and grey though he was. His exposed skin was covered in scars both magical and mundane, but today there was a near smile, a recognition of the promise that the ritual was showing after all these years.

It was a commonplace, obvious guess that the Hallows could complete each other, yet the careful enchantments the younger, living man had placed on the Resurrection Stone had thus far produced little results of interest, even with the Elder Wand. Suspending the Cloak of Invisibility over the stone, however, managed to 'hide' it, perhaps even from Death himself. The idea was, the old warlock supposed, child-like in its simplicity and symbolism, but it was evidently worth the effort. After an ancient ritual known only as 'Meeting at the River', Albus had, like Death from the tale, managed to take a corporeal form, if one bound to a specific place.

The achievement had to be studied, of course, business before pleasure, though it was a bit of fun to discuss the magical theory with a former student as equals, especially in an entirely undiscovered field of study. At length they decided to shelve the discussion as Harry drank some sort of azure potion. He extended a conjured flask, but the older wizard waved it away.

"I must decline, Harry, this discovery is a celebration in and of itself. I am quite honored to be chosen for these experiments, and I extend my gratitude that you respect my intention to embark on my next great adventure."

"Come off it, Albus, you never have a drink to clear your head?" He looked down and to the left of his former student.

"No, I find that more than anything it fills my head." The look in the green eyes across from him recalled the old adventure in the cave with the fake locket. "Terrible memories, painful memories...Many are an old man's mistakes... They say that in wine there is truth, and I believe I have told you-"

"The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing. It should be treated with great caution." Harry put the bottle away. "You're right, Professor, I shouldn't be insisting."

"Perish the thought- and please, I find I like being called Albus. I understand why you would assume I would want to celebrate the liberties of my regained physical form, but, if I am half as lucky as Professor Binns, there is the possibility a teaching career to consider."

"Hogwarts would be glad to have you back."

"Let us hope."