Kentucky Fried Yaxley
Written for the Death Eater of the Month challenge.
Prompt: Yaxley
Did Yaxley have an obsession with fried chicken? No, of course not. He didn't think so anyway, despite filling his office with several buckets of the delicious fried food.
"One can never have too much fried chicken," he said, poking the bucket with his wand and causing it to multiply.
One bucket became two, then two became four. The pile grew into a mountain, and before long Yaxley had stripped down to his underwear and was making fried chicken angels in the greasy meat on the floor.
Sometimes he was too busy thinking about fried chicken to notice that he was holding a chicken leg instead of his wand, pointing it at someone or something then wondering why his incantation didn't work. Then there were times when he sat down to brew a potion, stirring the mixture with a drumstick before bringing it to his mouth and taking a bite.
Unfortunately, his food fetish also came with some nasty habits, such as wiping the grease off on his hair and clothing. Severus had greasy hair, he thought, lifting both hands and using them to slick back his hair. Yes, the Potions Master had oily hair and no one complained about it. Everything would be fine, he mused, braiding his hair then pausing to admire his reflection in the mirror.
He headed out the door, not caring about the oily mess on his robes, and heard one of his coworkers saying something about popo grease.
People pointed and stared, whispering and muttering to one another as he swept past. Then along came Dolores Umbridge, her pink bow askew in her mess of curly, brown hair.
"What is this?" she queried, motioning towards the stains on his sleeve. "I'll have you know that attire is inappropriate for the workplace. It is in violation of five official dress codes, it smells positively foul, and if that weren't enough - "
She was cut off in midsentence when Yaxley crammed some fried chicken in her mouth. He then adjusted his robes and continued on his way as though nothing happened.