Disclaimer: I have taken inspiration from the soundtrack of Wicked and from the Harry Potter novels to write this fic. Music composed by Stephen Schwartz; books written by J. K. Rowling. Thanks to IwishIwasAprincess for suggesting the title!
Summary: Four unrelated drabbles about things some Harry Potter characters have gone through, inspired by my brand new copy of the soundtrack to Wicked.
Wickedly Inspired
"Defying Gravity"
"Stay here, Sirius!" Remus said. "You know Dumbledore's orders..." He looked at his best friend and pleaded, "Don't do something rash, Padfoot. You know we'll clear your name soon, but until we do, you've just got to stay in hiding a little while longer. The Order is full of powerful, capable, and very good witches and wizards. We're going to save Harry. You've just got to trust us." Sirius grimaced wordlessly as Remus turned on his heel and vanished, off to help save Sirius' godson and his friends without him.
Glaring around at the suddenly empty house, Sirius made his decision. This wasn't him! When had he ever been content to sit around and wait in hiding while others ran off to save the day? Maybe Snape's taunting had something to do with it, but even without him around, Sirius had been restless all along. No longer would he be satisfied simply to play Dumbledore's lapdog – no, it was time for action, time for change. Maybe it would get him killed – so be it. Sirius had been taking risks his whole life, and he wasn't about to stop now. James had taught him that standing up for your friends was always more important than anything else. How could he say he was honoring his best friend's memory when everyone he knew was out fighting Death Eaters – maybe even Voldemort himself – and Sirius just decided to be a good boy and stay in his old, grimy parents' mansion until it was all over? Shaking his head in disgust, Sirius turned and followed Remus and the rest of the Order, eager to make a difference at last, no matter what the cost.
"Wonderful"
To Ron-
Just so you know, Hermione made me write this note. She seems to think you'd actually come to your senses if I just "try to explain it to him," so I'm sending this to you just to get her off my back. I doubt you're even going to read it anyway, but here goes.
Listen to me; you've got to understand. I never asked for this. I know you think I've got some sort of brilliant life here, but it's not like that at all. Don't you get it? I'm famous because my Voldemort murdered my parents! Don't you realize that I would give up anything at all to have them back? All my life, growing up with the Dursleys, I had no idea I was a wizard at all. I certainly had no idea that I was famous for something that happened before I could even talk! It's still just kind of weird for me. I don't think I'll ever really get used to the way people react when they see my scar… It was never something I was proud of. After ten years of abuse and neglect from my aunt and uncle, all I ever wanted was real parents. Hagrid came to get me on my eleventh birthday and all of a sudden, I was whisked away to a whole new world where everyone knew my name!
People like Lockhart drive me crazy. I never had any desire whatsoever to be on the front page of a magazine and sign autographs for people, and you know it! And now someone has put my name in the Goblet of Fire – I don't know who it was, but I didn't do it! People die in the Triwizard Tournament, ok? And those are qualified adult wizards, almost out of school! I'm only fourteen; I haven't got a chance! I've already got plenty of people who want to kill me; why on Earth would you think I'd ask to have a few more?!
Anyway, I'll be here once you'd decided to put your head back on straight – that is, assuming I haven't gotten killed in the Tournament first.
-Harry
"One Short Day"
"This is brilliant!" Ron exclaimed, as the third years mounted the carriage to take them on their first trip to Hogsmeade. "I can't wait to get into Honeydukes! There's so many amazing things we can get there… there's magical warming ice cream – it tastes just like regular ice cream, but it's warm instead of cold and it never melts! And there's a whole joke food section, Fred and George went mad about it the first time they came – you know, blood pops and bogie candy and stuff…"
Ignoring Ron, Hermione turned to Parvati and Lavander and said, "Hogsmeade is just steeped in fascinating history, though. Did you know Gilbert the Great actually used to live there? And the Hog's Head was the site of the signing of the Magical Beverages Regulation Act of 1787!"
"…and there's sherbert balls that make you levitate, and sugar quills that look just like the real thing, and everlasting gum balls that never run out…" Ron went on to anyone who would listen.
Lavander yawned a bit, covering her mouth daintily.
"The Three Broomsticks is supposed to be a fabulous place to meet guys though," Parvati giggled.
Lavender perked up. "Really?" she asked.
"Oh yes! It's where all the seventh years hang out when they're not in class – they're allowed to go off the Hogwarts grounds whenever they like, as long as they don't miss class and they keep their grades up."
Looking a bit disgruntled at where Parvati and Lavender's priorities seemed to lie, Hermione turned back to Ron, who had begun talking to Seamus and Dean in her absence.
"The first place I'm going to is the Shrieking Shack," said Seamus, eyes glinting.
"Yeah, how many chances do you get to see a real life haunted place?" said Dean.
"Oh, but everyone knows it's not really haunted," said Hermione. "That's just a myth!"
"Of course it is!" said Ron indignantly. "How do you explain all the accounts of moaning and screams people have heard walking past the place?! People were being tortured in there!"
"Oh, rubbish," said Hermione dismissively, but Ron and Seamus' protests were cut short by McGonagal's voice.
"Everybody out!" she said briskly. "All students must be back at the carriages by precisely three-oh-clock p.m."
"Come on, let's go!" said Ron excitedly. The students clambered out of the carriage and ran into the village, not wanting to miss a single moment.
"No One Mourns The Wicked"
"He's gone!"
"He's vanished!"
"You-Know-Who has been conquered at last!"
The cries of joy rang throughout Britain. Every witch and wizard alive was rejoicing in the news, while Tom Riddle, stripped of his body and all rational thought, writhed in agony. How could he have been defeated? How could he, Lord Voldemort, who had murdered hundreds of adult witches and wizards, been overcome by a baby boy?
Even he himself could not understand how it could have happened, but through the excruciating pain that was overwhelming every sense, one thought rang through to his consciousness – he would return. If the curse had backfired, which was the only possible explanation to what had occurred, he would have been dead now, but he was very clearly still alive. Just barely alive, but still alive. This was proof at last – Lord Voldemort had conquered death. Only one seventh of his soul had been destroyed – there were still six pieces out there, hidden, ready to come to his service and bring him back to power. All he needed was to get his body back, and he would have his revenge…
AN: Please review! Also, if you have any title suggestions, that would be awesome… can't seem to come up with anything clever. Thanks!