Cassette Tapes

With her final destination in mind, Rowan finally arrived at the Diagon floo station. She carefully tossed the pinch of floo powder stored in her pocket into the flames. The flames turned emerald rising high within the hearth.

Experienced now, Rowan confidently called out, "Norton, "as she stepped into the green flames.

Blinking a bit, Rowan found that she was in an alleyway as she made her way out and onto the street. With an earnest smile, she gazed at the nice little quaint town that was rather normal for a change. Quickly remembering to remove her robes, she quickly tucked them into her pouch and congratulated herself on her insight on wearing a simple, light cotton jumper with long fine trousers. A bit pretentious, maybe, but nothing that would stick out too sorely among the general populace.

With a spring in her step, Rowan made her way down the cement sidewalk toward the main street. It was a breath of fresh air at seeing the cars go by as children shout and cry out to each other while riding their bicycles. Teenagers can be seen at the local shops or in the arcade. Though she was slightly tempted to go into the arcade itself, she had to admit she had never been much into the gaming classics. She much rather preferred higher game graphics than the blurry graphics that were currently considered the cutting edge of technology.

Immediately her eyes sparkled as she spotted a record and cassette store. Rowan was a bit old-fashioned as she did enjoy playing vinyl records. However, as she very well couldn't go about luging a record player back to the manor that was simply out of the question. And on that note, it was rather strange that she hadn't received a missive for using her wand at Gringotts from the Ministry of Magic.

There must be some sort of spell on Gringotts that doesn't allow to track wizards and witches going in and out. Which made perfect sense as it was a bank and protected all its customers' privacy. (Of course, if one had enough money there were always exceptions to the rule as previously shown.)

Walking into the store, she saw the various punks and fashions of the 70s. Hiding a smile, Rowan immediately went to the cassette section picking out the music of the British revolution. With glee, she even spotted an old classic to only freeze recalling that this wasn't a classic, but an album only a few years old. Humming the words to one of the iconic band's songs, under her breath, "Father McKenzie, writing the words, Of a sermon that no one will hear -."

"You have good taste," a voice from behind her caused Rowan to whirl around at seeing a grungy like youth roughly about fourteen or fifteen years old. Sticking his hands into his washed-out jeans pockets he peers at her selection and says, "Not bad for a city girl."

Rowan merely blinks and warily says, "Yes, well, it would be a shame not to listen to them, when they're rather good."

"I'd say," the teenage boy said causing his ripped sleeveless white shirt to stretch at his movement. "What's your name?"

Rowan merely arches her brow and proceeds to ignore the rather overly friendly teen. Boys like that were only trouble. But more importantly, he was a complete and utter stranger to her. She wasn't about to become one more missing statistic of the 70' or worse.

The teenage boy shrugged and said, "Suit yourself," before moving ahead and onto the next girl a rather tanned girl wearing a short sun dress that reached the top of her thighs. He instantly begins to flirt with her as she begins to giggle back.

Rowan ignores the flirting duo before her and proceeds to scavenge for some music. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy certain genres, but she did enjoy music like pop as well, which really wouldn't come for some twenty-plus years. She glanced at the Iggy Pop cassettes but decided to pass them by and instead went for the Wovoka album from the Red Bones, it would be the single, Come and Get your Love.

Nor did Rowan just grab pop, but classical music tapes as well. She picked out some of the best orchestras for herself and Severus. It was a shame that modern composers like Yiruma and Hans Zimmer had yet to appear. Satisfied with her collection, she went over to pay at the counter where a twenty-year-old man was reading some sort of magazine with a rather scantily clad woman on the cover.

"Do you happen to know where I can buy two cassette players?" Rowan asked as she put her purchases on the counter only pausing to grab several packs of AA batteries from the racks next to the counter.

"Let me see if we got any in the back," the long-haired man mumbled without glancing up and headed into the back of the store with a groan.

Calmly waiting at the counter, Rowan suddenly hears the door ring as a group of rowdy teens comes in. "And then I said, well, if you don't want this, b*tch. I can always get it elsewhere too." The teenage boy brags as all his friends begin to laugh in chorus."

The group of boys seeing the cashier wasn't at the counter immediately began to roughly tussle and play around to the general nuisance of others. "And look what we have here, boys?" The randy teenager from before with a crew cut said as he pointed at Rowan waiting at the counter. "Well, look what the cat dragged in. Hey, city girl!"

Rowan sighed to herself. Knowing that if she ignored him, he'd only get worse. But if she didn't the brat would take it as her wanting his attention. There was no winning in this situation.

"Hey, city-girl, I'm talking to you!" The crew cut-haired boy yelled as his friends laughed. "Oi, I said, I was talking to you! Answer when spoken to girl!"

The feminist side of Rowan snaps as she turns around with a very polite smile on her face. "Were you talking to me?"

"Duh," the randy boy snickered as his friends laughed shrilly in accompaniment.

"By my count, there are three other girls present within the store," Rowan calmly stated. "You could easily be referring to them as you and I are complete and utter strangers."

"Pfft, only if you want to be," the teenage boy leered as did the rest of his friends.

"Ah, well, I very much would like to keep it that way," Rowan coldly said as a chill began to permeate the air around her.

The crew-cut teen wasn't one to easily give up as he shifted his hips up and down suggestively, before rubbing his hand over his growing body member. "We don't need to talk, just move, babe."

"I don't suppose you've ever heard of Syphilis or AIDS, have you?" Rowan said with a grim expression.

"Syphia-what?" The boys squawked.

"I thought not," Rowan bluntly said. "Considering that you undoubtedly don't use or know the meaning of protection, I'm sure that you're just about as diseased as your common Victorian-era gigolo."

"B*tch, did you just call me, a whore?" The randy boy growled as his friends nervously took a step back.

"I don't see anyone else who claims to have been with so many others, do you?" Rowan loudly snickered. "And besides, I'd never insult a street girl as she gets paid for her services. You on the other hand offer them up for free."

"Oh, that's it!" The crew-cut teen exclaimed as he rushed forward with his fist raised. "I'm going to show-." The randy sod wasn't even able to finish his sentence as suddenly he found a painful fist just under his ribcage.

Instantly the air went out of his lungs as a follow-up jab smashed into his face. A loud crack is heard as his nose breaks and blood begins to pour out. Choking, he is unable to breathe as a third counter rises up from below and hits him straight under his chin causing another loud crack to be heard as his jaw cracks and he fainted straight away collapsing onto the floor in pain.

The entire store is silent and they can hardly believe their eyes as the tall, posh girl easily beat the living crap out of the teenage boy. His friends are in utter shock as Rowan reaches into her pocket for a tissue to wipe the blood off her hand.

"You really should get him to the nearest hospital. I'm fairly certain I broke his nose and at least cracked his jaw. It'd be rather terrible if he choked on his blood," Rowan calmly explained as his pale friends hurried forward to hastily carry him out of the store.

The rest of the store customers seem rather startled at how easily she dwelt with the situation. But more importantly how nonchalant she was about the entire situation. The teen boy who had previously tried to flirt with her sighed in private relief at having wisely opted out to leave her alone.

The shocked air is broken as the grungy cashier returns with two boxes of cassette players with headphones. "Here," the cashier grumbled as he began to ring her up without even glancing at her. "That will be-."

Rowan doesn't really listen as she hands over the bills for the cashier to take. Wincing slightly, she noticed that her red fists were a bit sore. She was rather out of shape. Her hands simply were not used to hitting others anymore.

"Here's your change," the cashier loudly said in annoyance as he began to put the purchases in a brown bag. "Have a nice day," the cashier dully called out as he handed over the paper brown bag, before returning to his magazine. In fact, he even ignored the burst of whispers that started the minute that the present customer left the store. It wasn't his problem; he was just here to man the till.