Dumbledore's Got Style Novels & Stories

It felt like a dream. Like the kind you woke from too quickly and never forgot. I let my hands drift to the railing, exhaling slowly as my gaze swept the crowd. And then it stopped. Baelorin. He stood near the far edge of the ballroom, one hand wrapped around a goblet, the other resting against the curve of his hip in that casual way. Dressed in fitted black from shoulder to boot, silver embroidery climbing the chest like a little flash of lightening. His hair was brushed back for once and not like he's been running his fingers through it, clean and sharp, and somehow it only made him look more irritatingly regal.

"Exactly! By the way, I heard the lecturer dresses pretty expensive." Just then, the lecturer walked in. He was tall, with a commanding presence that made the room fall silent. His sleek dark brown hair was perfectly styled, matching his well-groomed beard. He wore a tailored navy suit that looked like it cost a fortune, paired with a crisp white shirt and a silk tie that added a touch of sophistication. His polished leather shoes clicked sharply against the floor as he made his way to the front of the room.

Aahva, who has suited up with a formal clothes like a high-ranking officer that makes him look authoritative, approach him. “Hei boy!” Abelard couldn’t turn his eyes away from Aahva’s charisma, that looks handsome even though he is quite old. “You always look dashing every time the coat and that hat are at you.” “Ha ha ha, you definitely want it, right?” “Yeah. Not meaningful, but I always imagine every time you look like that, when would I can have my own styles? “ “Ha ha ha, Abelard, someday you will get your own styles and when you do. Make sure you have something that is meaningful to you.”

A few students turn subtly, their curiosity obvious. Of course they do. Albert doesn’t even bother lowering his voice. “You are dressed like you own the place,” he continues, his gaze dragging over me in a way that feels far too deliberate. “Short dress… heels… that attitude? Yeah… you knew exactly what you were doing.” My fingers tighten slightly around my pen. I shift in my seat, crossing one leg over the other—not because of him, but because I refuse to let him think he’s affecting me. But the movement only seems to encourage him.

His costume was a loose sport coat, a sweater, and spectacles. “Heath, you’re not supposed to dress up as yourself,” Rose joked. “I’m Professor Lupin! You know, from Harry Potter?” He pulled out his makeshift wand and acted like he was casting a spell. “And why do I feel like you remembered that this was a costume party only an hour ago?” “Not true. It was two hours ago.”