boogie fever ((open))

With work occupying much of his time, Harrison had gone quite a while without frequenting his favorite haunt: the roller rink. He was elated at having the chance to have some of their specialty Halloween drinks before having to wait until next year. His wife was busy at St. Mungo's, so he didn't feel bad about not coming home immediately after his shift. He skated over to the bar and leaned his arms against the counter letting the bass of the music vibrate through him. This was the kind of environment he missed while he was stuck in his office sorting through all sorts of tedious paperwork.

Richard was at the roller rink that evening on business, and he'd just got out of a very promising meeting with the owners. It seemed they needed some help getting custom where they were located in Knockturn, as there were still a lot of wizards who had trepidations about going down that way. That part of Knockturn they wanted to change into up-and-coming, and Dick's agency were the people for the job. They lived and breathed to change the public's minds, after all.

The owner had promised him free drinks and a go on the rink, but he was happy just staying at the bar. As he was glancing over the cocktail menu, someone skated up beside him. "Ah - Jetson. What a nice surprise!" He held out his hand to him. "It's been a while. I didn't think I'd find you here. I thought you lot were all work and no play."

What was with this bloke?! He didn't sodding age. Dick was looking at him sceptically, like he had some kind of dodgy secret to his young looks.

@Harrison Jetson

Harrison was just about to order his first drink of the night when he heard the voice of an old schoolmate. "Hey, Dick! It has been a while, hasn't it?" he asked, looking at him with a chuckle; Dick had been one of the first schoolmates he encountered when he returned to the wizarding world back in the mid-90s. They've scarcely interacted over the years as a result of the two of them living their own lives, and any class reunions were a bit of a sore moment due to the losses in the war. He amiably shook his hand and smiled.

It was strange looking so young in comparison to his contemporaries, but Harrison had to live on the assumption that most were making an effort to not question it at this point.

"What brings you here tonight?"

@Richard Pleasegood

"Ah - and look at you, skates on and everything."

He leaned back to get a look at the footwear. That took him back.

"Business," he responded to his question, trying to get the attention of the bar staff. When they clocked him looking around pointedly, he ordered a cocktail. "The roller rink needs help. Seems like their idea of Knockturn being up-and-coming hasn't come quickly enough, so they're looking for an ad campaign to entice clientele. Now, I'm not a creative, and don't ever pretend to be," he said, receiving his drink and showing his card. No payment necessary. Life was sweet for him. "But maybe it'll take more than a billboard to see these parts thriving. Especially when this is a place that's more nostalgic for people our age. They remember when Knockturn was a one-way ticket to having your skull harvested."

He winced.

"Do you think the young people could be interested in coming here? I'm thinking creative will push the retro cool angle."

@Harrison Jetson

"Can't go here without having a little boogie!"

That was easy for him to say as other than wizarding bodies being more physically resilient than a regular human's, his body still felt as young as it did in the 80s no matter how much damage he had accrued through a rock n' roll rockstyle. At least he could attribute that aspect of not ageing to being physically active for his job as an auror. Harrison raised his hand for a bartender and asked for one of their stronger cocktails telling them to put it on his tab. He was that much of a regular.

Here for business? Marketing always seemed like an easier job than being an auror; much of it was being persuasive. He'd be too intimidating to prosper in such a job. Harrison nodded as he took a sip of his drink. Ah, refreshing. "It's a trip seeing how much this part has changed with the years. Went from a den of Death Eaters to being the home to psychedelics and narcotics. The department has had a difficult time keeping up with all of the new substances being invented. The drug cases fall by the wayside as, of course, our primary concern nowadays involve murders."

It was a thankless job.

"It's even more difficult when a colleague's child frequents the drug scene..."

Placing his index finger on his chin, Harrison pondered and shrugged. "It'll be hard appealing to the youth, but you might have better luck with the university-aged crowd. I've been able to get a Ministry intern to come here with me once in a while."

@Richard Pleasegood

"No one should have to endure my boogying, so I won't try to embarrass myself."

He hadn't skated in the past, and didn't intend to start.

As he listened to Harrison though, he was getting some ideas that he'd probably be dubious of. This psychedelic thing was playing on his mind, and at once he imagined some artwork from 60s records that could inspire the prints. He looked at Harrison, sipped his drink, nodded, and contemplated whether he should state what was on his mind.

"You know that our agency won't promote the act of drug taking," he said, carefully balancing his words, "But perhaps the rebellion angle could be chipped into. You never know, if they're going here to take the hard stuff, we could distract them with clean thrills. It's the I'm-Not-Going-To-Take-Drugs-I'm-Going-To-Skate angle. Do you see where I'm going?"

He hoped so.

"Paint a picture of what they want, but what they're getting is this place."

@Harrison Jetson

Harrison chuckled shaking his head; what kind of dances were the kids into nowadays? He'd have to ask Narks and Nemmy that during the winter holidays.

"I think I do. The bars for rebellion these days I haven't quite understood. Kids laugh when you tell them about disco music, they find it embarrassing! How can you make disco cool again?"

Hm...

"You could target the gay audience."

It seemed like they'd be more receptive than most to the concept of a retro roller rink.

@Richard Pleasegood

"By advertising. Make it seem like a trippy, psychedelic rave and you've hit the target market."

It was interesting to hear him talk about homosexuals so flippantly, like they both weren't two grown men in the same place he was referring to. His brow went up. But then, as he turned, stroking his clean-shaven chin, he wondered whether he was onto something. Taking a quick glance around, there were some male couples getting drinks together.

"So we've got rebellious, stoned homosexuals. It's food for thought, at least. As I said before - I don't pretend to be a creative mind in my business. I can only take what I get from visiting here, and relay it back to the troops."

He raised his drink to him.

"So this intern... she's into indulging older men?"

He grinned.

@Harrison Jetson

"Do the kids these days know what raves are?"

Did the youth actually attend raves? He went to a few of them when he lived in the muggle world, but Harrison always preferred the atmosphere of the goth clubs. He preferred the music there too. Harrison swirled around his cocktail glass before taking the barstool beside Dick; it had finally been vacated.

"The intern's a he actually. I do think he's been trying to court one lady in the workplace."

He doubted it'd work. It was obvious Indigo was gay. Yet here he was being the type to invite Indigo to join him at the rink instead of his own wife. Classy.

"Sorry about the divorce."

@Richard Pleasegood

The youth didn't know what raves were?! He really was old. He thought that he could be hip, knowing what a rave actually was. But now he was out of the loop yet again: it was funny how time passed through so quickly that he could scarcely get a glimpse of the generation's interests. Young people changed their minds as often as trees changed through the seasons.

He could hardly interpret Jetson's accosting of male interns, as the next statement had him slamming right back to reality.

"You should tell my ex-wife that, she'd be thrilled to know someone's sorry." He chuckled, but there was something self-depreciating about it. Although he joked and jibed, he did actually have a lot of regrets surrounding his marriage.

"It was for the best. I was a dirt bag. I am a dirt bag. She deserves better." He smiled briefly at him, then took another sip of his drink. "How is Pasithea?" That was her name, wasn't it? He paid very little mind to the names of wives, unfortunately. "And... the children?" How many did he have again? He had no idea what their names were, so there was no point in trying to guess. These were just the sort of questions you asked.

@Harrison Jetson

Well, at least Dick was handling the divorce quite well; he was probably coping with it much better than everyone expected.

"Pasithea's well," he answered with a small smile. There was a crack beginning to form, Harrison felt, but there was currently no reason to acknowledge it. "She's been busy with work being one of the big heads at St. Mungo's. The kids are doing well as well. Narks is a prefect, he's hoping to be Head Boy next term. Nemmy's doing her thing, but they both have been receiving good grades."

It was easier to learn about what Dick's kids were up to due to being them all grown up, but it was still common courtesy to ask the same. "How about yours?"

@Richard Pleasegood

"Head Boy, yeah? I should've been Head Boy. How popular I was back in the day? They could've ignored all my indiscretions!"

Laughing, he tipped back the remainder of his drink and ordered another of the same. It was some cocktail that they clearly didn't make too often here, as they were reading the cards in order to make it. Dick didn't appreciate the delay.

"One of them's at the firm," he said, now taking about his children. "Real bull-headed artist who complains when we reject the work. Spoilt, you know." For some reason he expected Harrison to know something about spoilt children. "The other hates me. Well, the artist does as well. This one just hates me even more. Couldn't have done better with them there."

He laughed, then scooted closer, lowering his head.

"Does the wife know you're here?"

@Harrison Jetson

"I wasn't Head Boy material in the slightest," he laughed. "Our school days were quite the time!" It was in the midst of the first war while also being in a few years of acceptable peace. Harrison could still remember the headlines dubbing Harry Potter as the "Boy Who Lived" like it was yesterday...

Harrison nodded. At least his children were doing well even if family relations weren't the greatest. "My kids' generation is rambunctious. According to my son, there's a fight at least every other day, and their headmistress has become desperate to find a solution... Who would've thought our classes were better behaved?!"

Then he shook his head.

"She's still at work."

@Richard Pleasegood

"So she doesn't."

He grinned.

"I'll tell you why that is, Harri," he said, turning to face the roller rink. There were a couple of girls wearing hot pants. He watched them idly. "There's no authority nowadays. Or the kids don't have any respect for authority like we did. Dumbledore wasn't strict by any means, but some of the teachers we had you just didn't cross! Sluggy seemed like a pushover if you were on his good side, but did you see him when he was angry? Boy oh boy. He made you feel as important as the grime in a dirty cauldron."

He shook his head.

"They need to employ a good old fashioned school teacher. From what I hear, most of the faculty nowadays are kids themselves!"

@Harrison Jetson

Harrison nodded in agreement; sometimes, it did feel like the past 20-some years of peacetime gave the next generation permission to be more entitled. Nemmy had her moments, but Harrison believed he and Pasithea did an adequate job in raising their children to be respectful of those in charge. He did wonder how much of it could be chalked up to general teenaged rebellion, but the extent of some of the fights made that reasoning doubtful.

"Remember Riddle? You'd think he'd be the headmaster, regardless of how you feel, but instead the headmistress is a 30-something year old with no backbone! How are our kids supposed to become the leaders of tomorrow if their professors have just as little life experience?"

He tapped the bar counter in thought. "I heard much of them were new hires too. Did they just do away with the faculty that've been there for years? I can't imagine that they'd retire together..."

@Richard Pleasegood