Disclaimer: I do not own anything. It all belongs to JKR and I'm making no money with it.
Worst fashion sense
Today was a special meeting in the Ministry of Magic. A meeting with the acting vampire Lord.
They were all standing in a big circle conference room. The minister, the undersecretary, the wizengamot members, other politicians and of course the Boy-Who-Lived. Evereyone was gathered, everyone important. There was only one expection.
This expection was Albus Dumbledore.
Well, you see, the almighty Mugwump and what not, was sick. He had diarrhea.
Albus himself said he got poisoned. But the most knew, the actual reason was a clear case of too much lemon drops.
Of course, theoretically you could cure something trivial as diarrhea with a simple charm or potion.
But, you see, Dumbledore was stupid enough to go to Madame Pomphrey. The school nurse of course was not happy with the headmaster.
So, being the temperamental Madame Pomphrey she was, she actually took the headmaster's wand away and removed every potion, that could have heald him in a few seconds.
Then she locked the poor Albus in the infirmary and let him all alone with his little problem.
And no teacher or student dared to go against a clearly furiosed Madame Pomphrey. It was for his own good, after all, right?
Well, on any case that is the reason why the dear Albus Dumbledore was not present today.
Right now, the minister was talking to the vampire lord with a glass wine in his hands.
His face had an unhealthy shade of red.
The two were talking about an really important person in the wizarding world. Someone, everybody should have heard of. But being not everybody and living in another realm too, the vampires certainly didn't knew of one Albus Dumbledore.
So, the Minister of Magic was trying to 'describe' the old headmaster to them.
"The Albus Dumbledore! For the love of merlin's pants, how can you not know him? He is the most powerful wizard this age. The only one
You-Know-Who ever feared! The surpreme Mugwump, the..."
Yelling himself in rage, dear Cornelius got redder and redder in his face.
The two vampires (Lord an bodyguard) stared at him with a big question mark over their heads, trying to calculate how long it would take this human to explode.
Then Harry Potter, who was watching the scene, joined the little group.
He locked the vampire lord's eyes to get his attention. Certain vampire averted his gaze from the smoking and puffing minister.
Expectantly, he looked at the Boy-Who-Lived.
Wondering, Harry asked:
"You really don't know Albus Dumbledore?"
The vampire shook his head.
"He's that old man with the worst fashion sense you will ever come across.
The Albus just-look-at-the-nightgown-I'm-wearing-on-a-bright-shiny-day-with-the-sweet-little-duckys-on-it Dumbledore."
Comprehension dawned in the vampire eyes.
"Oh, that one you mean. Couldn't you have said that from the beginnig?"
A few steps away, Lucius Malfoy choked on his drink, spilling the content over his newly buyed dress robes.
Not paying attention to it, he made his way slowly to the huge double doors, cackling evily on his way out. The Malfoy patriarch had something to tell his lord and master.
*Fin*