Albus carefully sets down his half-drunk mug of hot tea on the one, rather precarious, clean edge of table he can find, and sits in the armchair beside it. He reaches for his yarn basket, pulling it toward him, and pulls out his current project by the needles. Noticing a tangle in the yarn, his long fingers slide into the strand, only to have it vanish, no - not vanish, explode is more accurate - into a fine dusting of glitter over his basket of yarn, and himself. A protesting noise comes from behind him, and he glances around to see Fawkes shaking a bit of glitter off his beak. Albus turns back to his now-empty needles, looking slightly perplexed. He sets them down on top of the basket, and then carefully, slowly, he reaches one long finger down to touch a wound ball of blue yarn.
*Poof* - Blue glitter cloud, settling.
He sighs, glancing at Fawkes again. "I suppose that puts an end to that plan for this afternoon, doesn't it?" He pushes the knitting basket back under the table with his shoe, and picks up his tea-cup, sipping at the remaining drink. A look of careful consideration is on his face, and as he sips he pulls the basket back out with his heel. Fawkes tilts his head at him, as he slowly, again, reaches down and pokes, this time, the red yarn.
*Poof* - Red glitter.
He pushes the basket back again, drains the remainder of his cup, and stands, setting the empty cup back on the table. "Well, no use sitting about doing nothing," he tells Fawkes, heading toward the front door. "Shall we see if anyone at the Pub has a similar oddity to discuss?" He pulls open the door, and completly without thinking pulls his multi-colored scarf from the hook by the door. And just as he flings it over his shoulder, sure enough, *poof* again and a shower of multi-colored gliter sprinkles him. "Oh,
really now!" he exclaims, heading out the door with Fawkes flying right behind him.