With the funeral over, Albus Dumbledore was returning to Hogwarts. However, instead of taking the short route, he had first decided that he needed a drink and some words with his brother, so he had went to the Hog's Head first. While Aberforth had not exactly been thrilled to see him, the conversation with him had been surprisingly civil, especially after he had told Aberforth about what was keeping his mind occupied.
His brother's as usual blunt answers were very welcome and actually gave him some well-needed perspective.
Now he was walking through the halls of Hogwarts to his office, students in the corridors looking in confusion at their Headmaster. After all, they normally always saw him wearing wizard robes - often in widely eccentric or clashing colors. Seeing him wearing a black Muggle suit complete with a black top hat, confused them to no end, while many pure-blood students looked highly offended. Perhaps he should do this more often.
Of course, many also didn't blink an eye - namely the majority of those wearing Muggle clothes at this Sunday. It was a sign of changing times. The muggleborn percentage of students was rising with each year and many of them started to no longer feel the need to conform to magical society in everything. The recent war - ironically - would only accelerate this development with the deaths of so many pure-blood and half-blood families. He could see the future conflicts arising from this trend.
Finally, he was in the sanctuary of his office, with Fawkes as his only living company - the portraits after all were not exactly alive. His eyes for a moment lingered on the the silver instruments sitting on a small table. These were a recent addition and monitored Harry's well-being. As he'd explained to the boy's guardians, to assure them no spying was involved, these were an alarm system in case of emergency, and nothing more.
Setting the top hat on his desk, he leaned back in his office seat, trying to collect his thoughts. These things were on his mind for days now, and he knew why they bothered him so much. Sirius' harsh words had hit deeper than the man knew. The picture most of the outside world had of him had no basis on the real man, yet, as his brother had put it bluntly, it seemed like he had started to actually believe some of it himself.
"Fawkes, my friend, perhaps you can lend an old man a patient ear?" he asked the phoenix.
The fiery bird gave him his full attention and chirped something that could be an answer in the positive.
"Recently, I've started to question myself. I know Sirius said some of the things he did in the heat of anger, but what he said made me start look at myself," he started to explain while taking a sherbet lemon. "It's... not exactly what I expected to see."
He chewed on the candy, before he continued. "After the disaster with Gellert, I vowed to never again strive for power, since I couldn't be trusted with it. So far, that still holds true. However, power is not the only weakness a person can suffer from, and I fear I might have fallen into some of them."
Fawkes moved his head slightly, as if to say 'continue'.
"Could it be..." Dumbledore sighed. "Could it be, that I've become too set in my ways, become too inflexible and lost sight of what's truly important for those affected by my actions? What is that expression in Gellert's first language? Ah, yes. Ich sehe den Wald vor lauter Bäumen nicht mehr."
Fawkes let out some chirps, as if to comment on it.
"Yes, you are right. Hasty actions won't do any good. I have to carefully look at myself and my actions. What I've seen by now is not exactly painting a flattering picture of myself. Others would just say they are too old to still change their ways."
Getting up, Dumbledore walked to the small case holding his Order of Merlin First Class award, which he'd gotten for defeating Grindelwald in 1945. It seemed so long ago by now. He'd been a very different man back then; much more proactive and not afraid of possible risks. Then several years later he'd become the Headmaster of Hogwarts and made himself comfortable in the status quo. Even the war against Voldemort had not changed his outlook, having acted mostly passive during it despite some highly memorable actions, including two very nasty encounters with Voldemort himself.
Sirius was right, I did become way too comfortable in my ways and lost sight of what those I'm responsible for really need.
Hearing knocking on the door, he was pulled out of his thoughts. "Yes, Horace, you can enter."
"Even after years I still wonder how you do it," said the overweight Horace Slughorn, the Potions Master of Hogwarts, while entering the office.
"Oh, I do have my ways." Dumbledore then walked to his desk. "I guess this is about you wishing to retire after this school year is over?"
"Yes. Recent events convinced me that now might be the time to enjoy the fruits of my labour," Slughorn told him. "Of course I would prefer you find a replacement for me in time."
Dumbledore's thoughts went to Severus Snape, who only got cleared thanks to his help, despite the wrongdoings he did. True, it had been a morally difficult to justify decision, since Snape had done some really nasty things, and thus it made Dumbledore feel very unwell, but he needed Snape to be free if the man were to keep his promise. He knew Snape was an expert in Potions, but actually dreamed of getting the Defense job.
No way however he could give the man that job, since by now he was sure Voldemort had cursed the Defense position and it was not clear if the recent events had lifted the curse. Horace however had opened an alternative that would allow him to keep Snape close. Of course he would make himself few friends with the decision.