Yes, I dislike Michael Gambon. Please don't flame me. Or do.

Harry glanced around the Great Hall before gingerly taking a seat on the bench. He still felt extremely shaky from the dementor encounter. His stomach felt like it was filled with lead, but he also felt...empty. It was an unpleasant sensation and he hoped that a good portion of treacle tart would chase it away.

He closed his eyes and felt Ron's concerned gaze. However, a jarring voice interrupted his morbid thoughts.

"WELCOME SCHUDENTS!"

His head, along with every other pupil at Hogwarts, snapped up to face...Dumbledore?

He was Dumbledore. But he looked...different.

His voice, it seemed, had magnified tenfold over the holiday. His beard, which had once been pearly white and straighter than a pole, now had a grungy, hippie look and was tied at the end with a dirty tassel. Dumbledore had never looked less approachable.

This new Dumbledore waved his hands in the air over the candles and began to speak in a loud, clear voice, a drastic change from the raspy, gentle tones he'd used last year. Nobody was listening, just watching in horror as Dumbledore's scraggly fingernails jerked around. Harry half-expected the man to flip them off or something.

"He looks like the kind of guy to run up and down the stairs..." George whispered to his twin, terrified.

"Hippie." breathed Fred.

"Super hot." Ron whispered, and then looked around hastily. Nobody had heard him.

Dumbledore waved his hand to put out a random candle. The tassel on his beard tinkled delicately. There was a little bell at the end. Of course.

"Good night." Dumbledore beamed, his tie-dyed robes glittering in the candlelight.

"I think my debut was a pretty good one." chuckled the Headmaster later that evening to his Phoenix, Fawkes.

Fawkes glared at him. You idiot. I liked the old you. The soft-spoken, clean wizard who wore robes heavier than an entire castle and friendly eyes. Now you're scaring the crap out of people by running around and grabbing people for no discernible reason.

"Yes, I know the students love my new look." Dumbledore admired himself on a shiny trinket gleaming on his desk.. "And now I have a giant pimple. Great. I would take a bath or something, but that's what the old me would do."

Hipster freak. I hope when I burst into flames next, you and your hair-sprayed dirty locks of crap will explode with me.

"Ah, I think the students are in bed now, Time to run up and down the stairs. Sleep, Fawkes. For in dreams, we can climb to the highest tower..."

Fawkes rolled his eyes. He'd heard it all before. He missed the old Dumbledore. Why did he have to completely change from a caring professor into a monster. He hoped that his master would trip on his disgusting beard and bash his head on the stone staircase.

Dumbeldore's many rings clinked together as he swept from the room in all of his foul glory, and Fawkes watched him go, thinking only,

Fawkes you.

He wanted his owner back.