WHO: Harold Dingle and OPEN TO ALL WHEN: Thursday, 21st July, evening WHERE: The Hog's Head, Hogsmeade WHAT: Thursday night cards with the wonderful Dingle RATING: High enough for language
With the curfew, Dingle's Card Night wasn't actually at night anymore, moved up to start at seven. It was somewhat annoying, to have the sunlight stream inside the pub every time the door opened, but Dingle could get over it so long as people still turned up. And Aberforth certainly didn't mind the earlier trade; he even rang the bell ten minutes before curfew to allow the attending ST's enough time to drink up and get home.
The interior was delightfully dark and shabby, hadn't changed much over the years, and Harold slouched happily at his table near the back, shuffling the cards and chatting and wisecracking with the two other dodgy blokes already sat at his table. One was an elderly wizard with beads in his beard, and the other was a Ministry janitor who seemingly only grunted in reply. It was particularly easy to take the piss out of him.
"Oi, Abe," he called out to the other Dumbledore, the grizzly bartender who frowned at Harold calling him from across the room, being the cheeky punk that he was, "Knock me out some Firewhiskey, why don't ya?" Abeforth strolled past the butterbeer barrels to sloppily fill a shot glass with Ogden's and then left it on the end of the bar. Harold levitated it over to his table with a controlled swish of his wand, knocking it back before dealing the cards out. It was practically Muggle Poker, but he'd picked the cards up in Romania, and they did all sorts of interesting things that made the game more exciting.
He took a look at his cards, cocking an eyebrow at his opponents, chucking a Galleon towards the centre of the table. "May as well fold now, lads."
[OPEN to anyone who'd like to tag in. Even if they're not involved in the cards, they could be drinking at the bar or just dropping in!]