who's the leader of the club?
Who's the leader of the club,
That's made for you and me?
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!
Hey, there! Hi, there! Ho, there!
You're as welcome as can be,
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!
Albus Dumbledore, though currently much younger than most were truly familiar with, was still a man of many talents. He could, for example, rhapsodize at length about magical theory and, were he still living in a place that allowed for the proper use of magic, follow such a thing with a spectacular demonstration that would leave even the most jaded speechless. He was, after all, the greatest mind Hogwarts had ever seen, regardless of age. However, a skill he had yet to completely master was the practice of temporary deafness and so, even as he pointedly turned the page of his book, he could not help but give the jukebox a withering glare.
Unsurprisingly, he was not the only one to do so. There was another man in the room as well, shuffling a deck of Muggle playing cards. He had short, blond hair and bright, blue eyes. And, though he was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a simple button-down shirt, it was more put-together than the grand majority of Tabula Rasa’s residents. Albus eyed the man curiously.
Noticing that he was being watched, the man gestured towards the jukebox and said, “I swear that that thing’s cursed.”
His accent, noticed Albus, was similar to his own and this did nothing but to intrigue him further. “Oh?” he replied, resting his book in his lap.
“Yes,” said the man. “Every time I come into this room, that bloody thing starts to play that song. I would say that that qualifies as cursed.”
“I see,” said Albus thoughtfully.
“I’m sorry. You see what, exactly?”
“Your point. You did just make one, yes?”
“…yes,” said the man. “So, what do you think? Is it cursed or is it cursed?”
Albus smiled benignly. “I think,” he said rather pleasantly, “that you are ignorant in the matters of which you speak.”
The man looked at him blankly, a slow and uncertain smile stretching across his face. “And you’re not?”
“No.”
“And why’s that, then? “ said the man, his expression frozen in place even as his tone became mocking. “Are you some sort of magician?”
“Hardly.”
The man considered that response and tilted his head. Were the music not so obnoxiously loud, Albus thought it would have been possibly to hear the cogs turning. “Then what makes you less ignorant?”
Albus merely smiled and returned to his reading.
“No, really, what makes you less ignorant?”
Perhaps he was better at temporary deafness than he originally thought.
“Ponce,” muttered the man.
Albus turned the page.
Joint-post! Tag one or the other. But, if you're tagging Danny I do ask that you visit his primer. ST and LT fine. Lyrics come from the Mickey Mouse Club theme song.
That's made for you and me?
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!
Hey, there! Hi, there! Ho, there!
You're as welcome as can be,
M-I-C-K-E-Y M-O-U-S-E!
Albus Dumbledore, though currently much younger than most were truly familiar with, was still a man of many talents. He could, for example, rhapsodize at length about magical theory and, were he still living in a place that allowed for the proper use of magic, follow such a thing with a spectacular demonstration that would leave even the most jaded speechless. He was, after all, the greatest mind Hogwarts had ever seen, regardless of age. However, a skill he had yet to completely master was the practice of temporary deafness and so, even as he pointedly turned the page of his book, he could not help but give the jukebox a withering glare.
Unsurprisingly, he was not the only one to do so. There was another man in the room as well, shuffling a deck of Muggle playing cards. He had short, blond hair and bright, blue eyes. And, though he was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a simple button-down shirt, it was more put-together than the grand majority of Tabula Rasa’s residents. Albus eyed the man curiously.
Noticing that he was being watched, the man gestured towards the jukebox and said, “I swear that that thing’s cursed.”
His accent, noticed Albus, was similar to his own and this did nothing but to intrigue him further. “Oh?” he replied, resting his book in his lap.
“Yes,” said the man. “Every time I come into this room, that bloody thing starts to play that song. I would say that that qualifies as cursed.”
“I see,” said Albus thoughtfully.
“I’m sorry. You see what, exactly?”
“Your point. You did just make one, yes?”
“…yes,” said the man. “So, what do you think? Is it cursed or is it cursed?”
Albus smiled benignly. “I think,” he said rather pleasantly, “that you are ignorant in the matters of which you speak.”
The man looked at him blankly, a slow and uncertain smile stretching across his face. “And you’re not?”
“No.”
“And why’s that, then? “ said the man, his expression frozen in place even as his tone became mocking. “Are you some sort of magician?”
“Hardly.”
The man considered that response and tilted his head. Were the music not so obnoxiously loud, Albus thought it would have been possibly to hear the cogs turning. “Then what makes you less ignorant?”
Albus merely smiled and returned to his reading.
“No, really, what makes you less ignorant?”
Perhaps he was better at temporary deafness than he originally thought.
“Ponce,” muttered the man.
Albus turned the page.
Joint-post! Tag one or the other. But, if you're tagging Danny I do ask that you visit his primer. ST and LT fine. Lyrics come from the Mickey Mouse Club theme song.