My Fellow ABBA Fan
...
"No drugs, no parties, no loud noises, no smelly food, no mess..."
Róisín and Cynthia's new Muggle landlady could talk until the cows came home.
"...no pets, no late payment of rent..."
Looks like they hadn't managed to flee so far away from Professor Potts' mothering after all.
"...and lastly, and this is an important one - no overnight male visitors, girls," the landlady finished at last. Róisín and Cynthia just nodded in assent, both hoping that the other one had managed to catch the rest of the no-fun list. The landlady gave them both a suspicious look, quickly glancing at the post owl in a small cage in Cynthia's hand.
"What did you girls say you were doing in London, again?" she asked.
"Dancing-" Róisín said.
"College," Cynthia interrupted. The girls exchanged a quick glance. "Dancing college," Cynthia added. "We're professional ballet dancers."
"Right, right, that's what it was," the landlady replied. "Well, so long as you pay your rent on time. I'll leave you to settle in now, girls. I'm in the unit right upstairs if you need me."
As soon as the door shut behind her, Róisín gave Cynthia an incredulous look and asked, "Professional ballet dancers? Really?"
"She wanted an answer!" Cynthia replied, with a cheeky grin. "Hey, at least we have her our of our hair and we can unpack."
Their apartment was on the ground floor of a cheap part of London nearby the red telephone booth for easy access to the Ministry of Magic. It didn't look like much, but it was good enough for one year, which was all that the girls needed. It had one room for each of them, alongside a small living room and kitchenette.
"What do you say we explore the city a bit?" Róisín asked. With a few flicks of her wand, her belongings levitated into an adjoining bedroom and began unpacking themselves.
"I heard Staghart mentioning a pub in Diagon Alley that the class is meeting up at - what's it called - The Leaky something..." Cynthia paused.
"The Leaky Cauldron?" Róisín offered.
Cynthia tapped her lip with her finger. "No, not that one."
"Do you want to bet the first round?"
...
"Dammit," Cynthia huffed as they approached the Leaky Cauldron. "I swore it was something else."
"Hey, we've been traveling a lot, you've seen plenty of cute British men for one day, I don't blame you for being confused," Róisín teased, and Cynthia hit her arm with her clutch purse.
"Lets hope that that Potter chap is here," Cynthia replied. "Yes, yes, I know he's married, but a girl can daydream, can't she?"
The pub didn't look like much from the outside, and it didn't look like much on the inside either. The only well-lit part of the pub was the bar in the middle of the room - the rest of the pub was gloomy and shadowy, with small groups of wizards huddled around lopsided wooden tables. The smell of old wood and butterbeer hung in the air, accompanied by the quiet murmur of chitchat and a band setting up in the corner quietly testing out their musical instruments. The crowd was mostly older, apart from a huddle of younger people by the bar - Róisín and Cynthia's class. As they approached the group they spotted Potter and Black in the center of the group, captivating the attention of their classmates as they retold a story from one of their recent escapades.
Róisín and Cynthia approached the bar and ordered two glasses of wine, before approaching the group. The mentors were in the middle of another story.
"Shall we tell them about the gramophone incident?" Potter asked Black, who took a large sip of ale and nodded enthusiastically.
"Absolutely we shall - now - gather around because this one's a good one," Black replied, lifting his glass higher in the air, indicating to everyone to huddle around. For a moment his eyes rested on Róisín and Cynthia, and he gave them both a welcoming nod and invited them to sit down on a pair of stools by the bar.
"So this all went down in the summer of '76-" Black began.
"'77," Potter interrupted.
"'77, pardon me," Black replied. "James here and our good friends Remus and Peter, the poor unfortunates, had found themselves in detention. What was your crime this time?"
"Switching the salt and sugar in the staff room," Potter replied, to the delight of the group.
"That was it - so, having committed this obviously treacherous act, they had ended up in detention - but here's the sticker. That wasn't even the real crime! Our plan all along was to get James, Peter and Remus into detention so that I could create even more mischief outside of it."
"Remind me, how did you go about that, Sirius?" Potter asked, with a wide grin. He added softly, "This part always gets me-"
"So I found a gramophone, right? I found this ancient, dusty old gramophone which, I swear, probably hadn't been used since before Dumbledore was born. Now, the other thing you have to know about me is that I absolutely adore Muggle music - who here listens to ABBA?"
Black scanned the group of young wizards expectantly - Róisín was the only one who raised her hand. He beamed at her and raised his glass in her direction.
"Cheers to you- what's your name?" he asked.
"Róisín," she replied, clinking her glass against his.
"Róisín - she knows what real music is, everyone," Black replied, eliciting a few laughs from the group. "Dancing Queen - is that one you're familiar with?"
"Obviously," Róisín replied sarcastically. "Dancing queen, young and sweet-"
"-only seventeen..." Black sang, humouring the group more. "So, I bewitch this ancient gramophone to play that song on repeat and then - I haven't even gotten to the good part yet - right, so I cover it with an invisibility cloak and levitate it in the direction of the detention room that these poor unfortunates had found themselves in."
"And the Professor supervising it - none of you would know her, Professor McGonagall - she's not a bad witch, but she is fairly strict, alright, and she does not appreciate messers-"
"Which is exactly what we were for seven years!" Black laughed.
"Yes," replied Potter, "so she hears this song from down the corridor, and it drives her insane - because, try as hard as she might-"
"The gramophone was invisible!" Black cried. "She couldn't see the darn thing! So there she is, chasing this ridiculous invisible musical instrument around the classroom - meanwhile I'm outside, controlling it-"
"And then I get up," Potter interjected, "and I take this big dramatic bow to our friend Remus, and I ask him - in the most over the top manner possible - 'Dear Remus, may I have the honour of the next dance?' To which he replies, again, completely over the top-"
"'Why, James, I thought you'd never ask!'" Black said in a shrill voice. Potter and the rest of the students burst out laughing.
"You all liked that one?" Black asked, with a wide grin. "Lets see - what other stories do we have to share with you..."
The night wore on, Black and Potter reciting many stories of their shenanigans from their Hogwarts days and the class finding endless delight in each one. Many rounds of drinks were purchased and consumed, accompanied by live music from the band in the corner. Several drinks later, Róisín pulled Cynthia into the bathroom for a break from the group.
"I'm literally obsessed with both of them," Cynthia gushed as soon as they were alone. She waltzed over to the sinks and sat down between two of them, her legs swinging underneath her. "I wish Potter wasn't married - why do all the good ones have to be taken?"
Róisín was carefully re-applying her lipstick in a mirror on the wall. "Beats me, girl. What did you make of all those stories?"
"What I wouldn't give to be a fly on the wall when those two were in Hogwarts!" Cynthia laughed. "Yourself?"
"I can't take them seriously," Róisín chuckled.
"Then don't take them so seriously! They're only - what - two years older than us? That's nothing. It's not like they're our teachers."
"I suppose so. It doesn't help that Black can't keep his eyes off you."
"Me?" Cynthia laughed. "It's you he's staring at! I heard from Hare, who was talking to some of the Aurors in the Ministry earlier, that he's a total womaniser."
"So even if he was staring at me - which he wasn't," Róisín glared at Cynthia, "he wouldn't be my type."
"Please - you need to loosen up and stop treating this year abroad like it's the be all and end all. We have freedom - we may as well enjoy it! No parents, no Professor Potts. We're in a huge, anonymous city. We can live like there's no consequences."
"I'm happy to live vicariously through your dating life, thank you very much," Róisín replied, snapping her lipstick back together. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you - I don't want a relationship."
"Alright, alright," Cynthia replied, raising her palms in the air. She hopped down off the sink counter and made to leave the bathroom. "But I saw the way he was looking at you!" she called over her shoulder as the door shut behind her.