Title: Dumbledore's Discombob
Author: DianeB
Rating: G
Summary: Slughorn allowed Dumbledore to take that knitting magazine out of the Muggle house, didn't he?
Author's Note: Set during the early scenes of the movie Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Thanks to my Mighty Editor Goddess, Brenda S.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince or anything else in the Potterverse, for that matter. I'm just having some fun with characters I enjoy.
Dumbledore was determined to get this done without magic, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for the accomplished wizard to keep to his determination.
When he'd first begun, he thought it a regular lark, after so many years of merely reading about the different patterns, to actually up and try one. It had seemed fairly straightforward on the slick pages of the magazine, and pictures of the finished product were stunning enough for Dumbledore to want to create one himself, as a gift for Minerva. So with Hagrid's help, all the required materials had been gathered, and on one relatively quiet evening, Dumbledore sat before the fireplace in his room and began with great zeal.
But his enthusiasm quickly faded in light of the difficulty of the task. He knew his hand would be a hindrance, and it was painful and hard to maneuver, but as time went on, his hand proved to be the least of his trouble. He kept glancing at the instructions to be sure he was doing it correctly, but even though he was sure he was doing everything right, his poor fingers felt as though they were tying themselves in knots around the yarn, and he actually had to look hard a couple of times to be sure they weren't doing exactly that!
After dropping a third stitch in as many minutes, Dumbledore, grumbling to himself, pulled the rich scarlet-and-gold yarn back to its starting point, rolled it into a loose ball, and reached for his wand – all the while wondering how in the world the Muggles were able to accomplish the great things they did, never mind a simple knitted shawl.
oOo oOo oOo
Mrs. Nigel-Murray hurried through the front door, leaving her husband to bring in the luggage and souvenirs. She stopped abruptly in the hallway and glanced into the living room, brows furrowed, feeling as though something was amiss. Given her bladder was full to bursting, she quickly dismissed the feeling as simply a sign of being away from home too long and headed for the powder room off the kitchen.
On the toilet, she leaned forward to the little rack mounted on the wall beside the toilet paper, eager to get a look at the new issue of her favorite magazine. She hadn't had time before they left for the Canary Islands, and so had placed it in the bathroom's magazine rack to wait for her return.
But the magazine wasn't there, and no amount of pawing through the ones that were there made it appear.
End