Dumbledor woke promptly at seven, lifting his head off the pillowcase made of old socks. His white hair stood out at odd angles, from the static, making him like a ball of wool fluff, and for the better part of an hour it resisted all attempts to tame it.
After a quick search of the sock drawer he pulled out his favorite pair of knees highs. He shuffled over to the bed to sit down chuckling gleefully all the way. The instant the wool touched his skin his eyes gained their trademark twinkle that did wonders to lighten his wrinkled face.
At breakfast he sat having a serious discussion with Professor Snape about students minds wandering during his classes. During the middle of his rant the pale faced professor scowled as headmaster broke into a smile brought on by wiggling his toes in his ultra comfy footwear.
Later that day he lounged behind his desk comparing a picture of knit socks to his failed attempts. Not that he didn't like the pup-tent effect but it just wasn't practical. After all how would he fit his foot in a shoe with one on? Perhaps Hagrid would like them as a gift?
He leaned over to fish around in a basket by his desk coming up with a ball of yarn and his needle. The blunted point glinted ominously as the old wizard took out his wand to use as the other needle. Many hours and several miles of yarn later Mcgonagall opened the door to the head masters office and much to her annoyance was forced to wade through a sea of mismatched sock. There were toe-socks, ankle highs, those with heels and those without, every color, hue and size. Once at the desk she called out.
"Sir?" When she got no answer she tried again. "Dumbledor are you in here?"
She watched with a bemused look on he face as a sock only a house elf would wear answered her. "Oh yes. Dear me. Am I late for dinner again?"
"Yes. Haven't we had several talks about this?"
Dumbledor opted to be evasive "Have we?"
"Last week you promised not to indulge yourself until after school hours." She leaned forward to pull the florid sock off revealing a rather prominent nose.
"I did say that didn't I?" The nose sighed.
Mcgonagall nodded though she knew he couldn't see it. "I'll forgive you this time if you come down to dinner now and clean up this room when that's done."
Dumbledor rose up carefully removing the socks from his robes. He gave them a fond pat as he followed the stiff-backed woman down to the dinner hall.
All through dinner the two watched each other. Mcgonagall because she didn't trust the aging headmaster not to pull something, and Dumbledor because thanks to static cling his colleague was wearing his favorite pink and orange sock on her back.
SD-Thanks to all the reviewers
After a quick search of the sock drawer he pulled out his favorite pair of knees highs. He shuffled over to the bed to sit down chuckling gleefully all the way. The instant the wool touched his skin his eyes gained their trademark twinkle that did wonders to lighten his wrinkled face.
At breakfast he sat having a serious discussion with Professor Snape about students minds wandering during his classes. During the middle of his rant the pale faced professor scowled as headmaster broke into a smile brought on by wiggling his toes in his ultra comfy footwear.
Later that day he lounged behind his desk comparing a picture of knit socks to his failed attempts. Not that he didn't like the pup-tent effect but it just wasn't practical. After all how would he fit his foot in a shoe with one on? Perhaps Hagrid would like them as a gift?
He leaned over to fish around in a basket by his desk coming up with a ball of yarn and his needle. The blunted point glinted ominously as the old wizard took out his wand to use as the other needle. Many hours and several miles of yarn later Mcgonagall opened the door to the head masters office and much to her annoyance was forced to wade through a sea of mismatched sock. There were toe-socks, ankle highs, those with heels and those without, every color, hue and size. Once at the desk she called out.
"Sir?" When she got no answer she tried again. "Dumbledor are you in here?"
She watched with a bemused look on he face as a sock only a house elf would wear answered her. "Oh yes. Dear me. Am I late for dinner again?"
"Yes. Haven't we had several talks about this?"
Dumbledor opted to be evasive "Have we?"
"Last week you promised not to indulge yourself until after school hours." She leaned forward to pull the florid sock off revealing a rather prominent nose.
"I did say that didn't I?" The nose sighed.
Mcgonagall nodded though she knew he couldn't see it. "I'll forgive you this time if you come down to dinner now and clean up this room when that's done."
Dumbledor rose up carefully removing the socks from his robes. He gave them a fond pat as he followed the stiff-backed woman down to the dinner hall.
All through dinner the two watched each other. Mcgonagall because she didn't trust the aging headmaster not to pull something, and Dumbledor because thanks to static cling his colleague was wearing his favorite pink and orange sock on her back.
SD-Thanks to all the reviewers
