Harry Potter?

Only me, I thought. Only I would be able to get locked in an uncomfortable room with an equally uncomfortable teacher twice! But, of course, this Professor Dumbledore person hadn’t had the nerve to show up. I vaguely remembered his name, but I was uncertain. I’d have to see him to know for sure. I mean, no way could this be the only person He Who Must Not Be Named feared. Impossible.
“Mrs. Collette, so glad you could join me,” a gentle voice drifted down from a staircase leading up to another level. I looked up to see a relatively old man with a long white beard and long white hair descending the stairs with an ease that should be illegal to the age his appearance suggested.
“Professor Dumbledore, you asked to see me?”
“Did I? Or was it fate that you come see me at this time of day between classes?”
“No, I’m pretty sure you asked to see me.”
He laughed, a jolly infectious laugh, and then asked me to take a seat.
“I see you are out of uniform?” He asked me, but I could hear no hint of disapproval, only a sense of amusement.
“Yeah I- But-” I stammered.
“There is no need for excuses. Wearing World Cup’s uniform with a Hogwarts cloak should suffice, and might make our surprise guests feel at home.”
“What?” I asked, confusion clouding my vision. “I don’t understand.”
“Not yet my dear. Not yet. But you will.” He said, not making it any clearer.
I could tell I was dismissed. I walked out of the room stiffly.