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*Jory's POV*

When I felt my feet land on solid ground, I latched onto Stevie's arm as if my life depended on it. I was still seeing odd colors and shapes flying around, but they were quickly fading away, revealing a small room with various clothing scattered about.

"What are you doing?" a petite woman hissed, "What the hell are you wearing?"

"Um, they're called clothes," Stevie said, her sharp tongue never failing.

"Get in your costumes!" the woman yelled, tossing two uniforms in our direction.

"Stevie," I asked, "What are these?"

"I'm not sure," she said, "They look familiar, though."

"They're Hogwarts uniforms!" I cried, "I know it! Look at them!"

"No, they're not," Stevie said, "They're the wrong color."

"Oh," I said, extremely disappointed, "You think we should put them on?"

"When in Rome," she shrugged, and went to change into the uniform.

*Stevie's POV*

When Jory and I left the cluttered dressing room wearing the itchy costumes, Jory gasped.

"Look at that girl!" she whispered, "She looks exactly like Pattie Boyd!"

"Wow," I muttered under my breath, "I'm jealous. She's gorgeous."

"Are you kidding me?" the Pattie look-alike screeched at a man standing near her, "I can't deal with this kind of treatment anymore! We're quitting!"

Bizarro Pattie stormed away, her dark haired friend following closely behind.

The man held his head in his hands. "What do I do? What do I do?" he mumbled.

That was when he looked up and saw us.

"Perfect!" he cried, "You two, take their places. Blondie, you take Pattie's place, and the other will be the other."

Jory and I looked at each other.

"What?" I asked.

"Be Pattie!" he cried, "Go! We're starting now!"

Jory and I stumbled onto a set made to look like the inside of a train, and sat down the only table with seats available.

"Stevie, what are we doing?" Jory hissed.

My mouth dropped open as I saw a very familiar man over her shoulder.

"Excuse me ladies," he said, "Would you mind if two of us joined you?"

"Don't mind me prisoners!" a scary old man said.

"Prisoners?" I gasped, our situation finally clicking in my brain.

Jory's eyes grew wide. "We're in A Hard Day's Night?" she mouthed.

I looked at the man next to me and realized that, oh my George, I was looking into the eyes of a Beatlemania era Paul McCartney.