There was a phoenix. Albus Dumbledore had a phoenix. Everyone knew that. So how the bugger had this bloke got a hold of one?
"All right," Hugo said, jaw set and arms folding. Tempting as it was, the ice cream could wait. "Either I'm dreaming, or I'm dead, or you're going to a lot of trouble to take the piss out on me. Albus Dumbledore has been dead for a long time. If you're him, how are you alive and so young? And better yet -- why are you here serving ice cream?"