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...

Albus Dumbledore fell from the Astronomy Tower, his robes flapping madly in the wind as his prone form bonelessly descended to the pavestones below, his (technically former) wand lazily spinning as it fell alongside him. Ten yards, twenty, thirty—
—then his arm snapped to action as the wand whizzed back into its grasping hand, and blurred as it spat out a bevy of spells with a speed that would have left all but Severus gaping in terror had he elected to inflict it upon them amidst a duel.

Arresto momentum and cushioning charms on the rapidly approaching ground took care of his immediate needs, followed by a wizarding notice-me-not on himself for good measure. Then engorgio on a lemon drop from his pocket, a transfiguration to turn it into a lifeless simulacrum of himself, and a mild banisher to direct the 'corpse' away from the cushioning charm. Albus gracefully landed feet-first with a nearly silent tap-tap on the stones of the courtyard, moments after the transfigured body slammed into the unforgiving ground with a wet thump, the Deathstick once again darting into action as he disillusioned himself, silenced his robes and feet and added a scent-blocking charm for good measure.

Well, Albus reflected, that went rather well if I do say so myself.

Young Harry Potter was primed to begin his fated quest, no doubt with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger to accompany him – and a discreetly prepared payment to his Gringotts account manager would make Albus's death official and trigger his will, leaving Harry with all but one piece of what he needed to fulfill his destiny. Severus Snape had ensured his place in Voldemort's Inner Circle with Albus Dumbledore's 'murder', and would be in the perfect position to limit the excesses of the Death Eaters that would no doubt be installed in Hogwarts faculty roles once Voldemort inevitably toppled the Ministry and took control of Hogwarts. Draco Malfoy had unwittingly proved himself to yet possess that inkling of goodness within him that would carry him through the coming conflict with a minimum of tarnishment upon his soul.

And thanks to the adroit combination of a conjured pane of taffy, a disillusionment spell and a minor illusion to mask the first two spells, Albus Dumbledore had successfully executed the staging of his own death.

Best not to hang around, then. He would truly detest having such efforts going to waste. Albus silently strode away from the scene of his death, slipping through the castle corridors towards one of Hogwarts' escape passages.

Halfway through the passage to Hogsmeade, Albus paused. A hominum revello confirmed that he was alone. A glance at his pocket watch confirmed that he had mere minutes to wait.

'That should do it,' Albus muttered.

A finite got rid of the camouflaguing spells on his person, including the transfiguration that simulated that nasty withering curse on his hand. Another transfiguration followed, this time on his robes. Albus took a deep breath and centred himself, subtly contorting his posture in preparation for the next part of his routine.

The Elder Wand was elaborately flourished, working adequately enough for him once more in the absence of the boy he'd allowed to disarm him. The hand that gripped it simultaneously shrunk in size, stretched out with flesh, and lost the many and varied blemishes of advanced age—
—And she sighed in satisfaction as the self-transfiguration completed, her ample bosom heaving and billowing into its customary snug fit encased in her newly reshaped garb. The Elder Wand was tucked away (it would be planted in Dumbledore's grave later, as the final piece in Harry's salvation should everything go according to plan), and another wand replaced it in her hand.

The voluptuous woman stretched and wiggled, supple muscles leisurely undulating under her robes as she moaned out a sensuous suspiration of absolute contentment. She had always preferred this form, ever since Albus had randomly chosen a certain tiny muggle girl-child to periodically harvest her hair in the pursuit of recapturing his lost youth and innocence in a body that fit his tastes so much more comfortably than that which Albus Dumbledore had been born into. Young Julie had subsequently been a great delight to reacquaint with over the decades since (to update her "age" through Polyjoice comparisons, if nothing else), with the necessary succession of memory charms only enhancing each new meeting; Albus nonetheless found it a true pity that the Statute of Secrecy proscribed such measures and precluded a longer relationship with the girl.

She would have been tickled pink, had she ever been allowed to remember learning of what he had done with her form – especially given what little Julie had gone on to do with her life.

The buxom lady checked her pocket watch again, smiling as the second hand ticked down towards the optimum moment. Time to do away with that old life, she thought.

Nimble fingers dipped into her top, grasping and pulling out a circular pendant by its silver chain from her voluminous cleavage. There was enough sand left in it for maybe one more cumulative week of use; that would be fine, considering that this would be the last time that she needed resort to it as part of her daily routine. She twisted the pendant's lens-shaped centrepiece on its swivel through nine full rotations, then then let go…

—ox-oxo-xo—

…slipped the Time Turner over her head and tucked it into a pouch, as Madam Rosmerta Christie began her nightly trek through the secret passage for the final time, looking forward to a good night's sleep before the Three Broomsticks opened for tomorrow's business on the last day of his life.

It was time to say goodbye to the Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, and Headmaster of Hogwarts – and she would certainly not miss those days. No, it was "merely" the life of a innocuously gorgeous, universally trusted, and gloriously unattached barmaid for her to enjoy to the hilt… especially when that "hilt" was buried balls-deep in her ready and eager inner passages. Yes, best wishes to Harry, Draco and the Wizarding World in their lives and all; in the meantime however, it was time for her to enjoy a slice of the simple life at last!

...

Why yes, I did have Dumbledore living a secret life as Madam Rosmerta with self-transfiguration and a time-turner. Suffer?
...Not suffering?
Well, just consider what kind of red-blooded teenage wizard wouldn't take advantage of the busty barmaid he just imperius'd, and recall how Draco got Katie Bell to bring that cursed amulet into Hogwarts earlier in 6th year. ^_^

NB: Julie Christie was the actress who played Madam Rosmerta in the third movie. I gave her 'Christie' as a surname because I couldn't find if she had one in either canon (or even if Rosmerta was her first or last name).

All that aside, I hope you found this little snippet entertaining. Until next time...