Finished ficlet muse inspired in me. Am v. proud. Think it's quite funny in own weird way. Love eighties music. Was for challenge posted by Lady Silver on FA. Check it out!

Title: 80's Night at the Kareoke

Rating: PG (for swearing and alcohol)

Summary:I walked into the bar and cringed. It was just my luck that the first time I went to that bar it was kareoke night. Someone was singing 80's music. Not badly, but 80's music is 80's music.

Notes: The views held by the main character are not mine, though they are in first person. Also as you know the characters are not mine. The songs mentioned or refered to belong Madonna, The Romantics, Bon Jovi, Air Supply and Bill Medley & Jennifer Warnes.

I walked into the bar and cringed. It was just my luck that the first time I went to that bar it was kareoke night. Someone was singing 80's music. Not badly, but 80's music is 80's music.

There was no coat check so I made my way over to the bar to buy a pint. That's when I saw him.

Harry bloody Potter. I thought I'd seen the last of him two years ago when he finished school, but no. There he was singing bloody 80's music in a bar.

The irony of his song didn't escape me, either. Nobody was more unlike a virgin, than sodding Harry Potter. Except maybe his friends.

When he finished his song, he walked back to his table. His leather jacket had some Latin phrase, Illiud Latine dici non potest. Buggered if I know what it means. Probably some stupid joke with his nerdy little friends. He sat down and the blond at his table leaned to his ear.

My friend told me to come to the bar because it served the best ale in London. He didn't tell me it served freaks like Potter. I recognized the blond man as Potter's boyfriend. I'd seen pictures over two years ago and it seemed they were still going strong. I sneered and nursed my ale.

The blond man got up after the next song and made his way to the kareoke stage. I didn't hear the name called. Not that I wanted to know, anyway. Harry sodding Potter could date a monkey for all I care.

I took another sip of my pint and cringed again at the words Potter's sodding boyfriend was now singing.

What I like about you,

You hold me tight.

Tell me I'm the only one,

Wanna come over tonight.

Sodding bloke probably lived at Potter's anyway, making the song completely pointless.

I finished another pint and Potter was just finishing his next song. I doubted very much that Potter really thought his bloody boyfriend gave love a bad name. While Potter and his boy-toy switched places again, I ordered another pint.

"Oi! Barkeep!"

"The name's Finnigan, mate," the bartender said, making his way down. "I'd appreciate yeh using it." He sounded Irish to me.

"Whatever. Finnigan, then. Another pint of the Margarine Ale, for me."

"It's Butterbeer, mate," the sandy-haired man said. "Yeh can't make beer with margarine."

"Alright, alright," I said, cutting off what seemed like the beginnings of a rant on margarine versus butter. "Another pint of Butterbeer, then."

I paid, took a sip and nearly choked as Potter's boyfriend got to the chorus of his song. 'All out of love', my arse. If Potter's bloody face was anything to go by, there was no shortage of loving going on in that relationship. The sod looked like he was about to jump the bloke right on stage. I prayed he wouldn't.

It was getting late and I was finishing off my fourth pint when they were finishing their last song; a spirited, and pretty drunk version of "I've Had The Time Of My Life". I felt like I wanted to vomit, but I wasn't sure if it was from the drinks or the music.

I went to take a piss before heading out. As the door swung shut, a voice on the microphone said, "That was it, folks. Our weekly 'Battle of the Boys'. By applause, who wins? Is it-"

The door shut and the voice was cut off. Weekly event? Bloody Paul knew about this, then. Bloody Paul.

On my way out, I realized I'd have to pass Potter's table. Bloody hell. I figured I'd just not say anything, but my mouth had other plans.

"Potter," I spat.

He turned and though his gaze was unfocused at first, he eventually managed to say, "Oh! What are you doing here?"

"Drinking, Potter. Not that it's any of your fucking business," I said. Or meant to say.

It came out as more of a "Drinkin', Plotter. Not that's any yuv your flucking bid-nes." Damn drunken slurring.

Potter blinked, before shaking his as if to clear it and carrying on like I hadn't said anything. "I don't think you two have met." He pointed at the blond man and said, "This is my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy."

He then turned to this Draco bloke.

"Draco," he said, pointing at me, "This is my cousin, Dudley Dursley."

"Fluck off, Plotter," I said.

I walked straight out of the bar and resolved never to see bloody Harry sodding Potter again. Damn wizard freaks.

End Notes: The songs are, in order of mentioning "Like a Virgin" by Madonna,

"What I Like About You" by The Romantics (though Lillix has a cover), "You Give Love A Bad Name" by Bon Jovi, "All Out of Love" by Air Supply and "I've Had The Time Of My Life" by Bill Medley and Jennifer Warnes.

The Latin phrase, Illiud Latine dici non potest, means "You Can't Say That In Latin". Just a stupid joke of mine.

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