Dumbledore's Got Style Novels & Stories

I heard Dalia gasp softly, and I couldn't help but think of the phrase 'think of the devil and he would appear. I turned to see her looking good—too good. She was in what I was sure was an expensive dress, even though it was very simple. She and that pesky friend looked different and not like the slaves back at Grimwell pack. The transformation was unsettling, like seeing a ghost that had learned to haunt in silk instead of rags.

It matters not what someone is born but what they grow to be. ~Professor Dumbledore, The goblet of fire. •• Noor dragged her feet, her gait ridiculously slow as she headed towards her Jaddah's suite. As much as she wanted to have alone time with her Jaddah, she dreaded what she wanted to talk to her about this late in the evening. She lifted her head high, ignoring the looks and mutterings that followed her as she walked deeper into the Dar. It was nothing new to her, and she had grown a thick skin to it.

He felt his throat tightening. “Why? Do you think I'm dirty? Am I a disease? Must you have such an intense reaction just because I touched you? You should take off your clothes since I hugged you earlier.” Alexa scoffed indignantly, feeling angry. She realized the second man was also quite handsome. He looked like a scholar in his glasses; ‘if anything, he was an eight, and the man staring at her with his dark, stormy eyes was a 10,’ Alexa thought.

I was about to knock when the door suddenly opened on its own Wow! Their door is hightech huh! I just went in and I saw an old man sitting in a chair with his hand on the table. He is old but his complexion does not have any wrinkles. He also sat up straight and his body still looked strong. He looks like the Dumbledore of Harry Potter! His hair is also white and he has a long mustache like dumbledore! Could it be that Dumbledore has a missing twin? Oh my god! I’m getting crazy!

"Let the whole world know that their Queen is mine." "Please, could you save your hormones and pheromones for tonight? The sweetness level is making me want to drink sulfuric acid." That incredibly familiar sarcastic voice made both Alaric and me turn at the same time. Dorian stood in the balcony doorway. He wasn't wearing ceremonial clothing or a formal council robe. The alchemist wore his trademark gray robe, patched in several places, with a large leather bag slung over his shoulder and a belt lined with potion bottles that clinked softly as he moved.

Nothing he could think of felt capable of quantifying the entity standing before him now. Tim Dorian dazzled under the lights of the Gilded Emporium. His auburn hair was styled with deliberate artistry—polished yet left with a whisper of intentional disarray at the edges, the kind of imperfection that only a master could perfect. His attire… it wasn’t loud, nor gaudy, nor desperate to command attention. And yet, it did.

But I also didn’t want to look shabby—like a victim, miserable in my first meeting with the council. I walk into the room, my heart pounding, and see him with Severus, playing a game of chess on the coffee table. My breath catches as I observe him. He’s already dressed—regal black attire that fits him perfectly. His hair is in a bun again, and I secretly love this look. He rarely styles it; sometimes it falls in loose curls, other days it’s slicked back or tied up like today. He’s focused on the game, chin resting on his folded fist, eyes stoic as he watches Severus move his pieces. His brow furrows slightly, concentration etched into his features.

“That’s what I get for skipping meditation.” Meanwhile, Edric and Alpha Khy were in the strategy chamber, totally unaware that a fashion revolution was erupting in the courtyard just ten feet away. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I whispered to Mr. Yellow, who had joined me on the bench. “But I think Clarence is about to become Carrot’s personal stylist.” “She was born for it,” he said. “May the gods have mercy on us all.” As Clarence snapped her fingers and summoned a rack of enchanted accessories that floated in midair, Carrot looked up at me with a wink.

They harassed me countless times, made mockery of me and worst of it all, I dare say not a single word unless I get locked in the dungeon for a month and during that month, I was to feed on grasses like some ruminant animals. The more I narrate my life to Madame. Regina, I saw her break down the more. I slowly felt like I finally have a place to call home. When I go back to bed late at night, Dumbledore would show up in a somewhat shaggy dress that made him look like a homeless kid. Sometimes, I fed him while I starved myself. He was like a bird and I was the owner but then he was all I have and I would rather be in pains just to make sure that my pretty, innocent bird doesn’t die.

he motions for me to ask. “Why do you councilmen all wear the same grubby grey robes day in and day out?” I ask seriously. “Well, I guess it’s a uniform of the council. Besides they are comfy and cheap, so I suppose it doesn’t matter if they are damaged through long travel or shifting.” He answers. “Damn. Jasper had bet on it being because you like to wear dresses and cross dress,” I tell him. “And your bet?” He asks. “I thought you were trying to portray Albus Dumbledore,” I answer with a smile.