Author's Note: I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, Ash (or 'TSC'), you've got a quite a few stories that were progressing just fine before WHAMBAMBWAH! …you just disappeared on us like the stupid-evil-Harry/Draco-loving-weirdo-git that you are! Well… sorry. I don't know what to say to that. But I'm gonna try and get the next chapter of 'I Should Despise You' out ASAP. However, expect two more H/D fics from me before that. I've had some crazy ideas forming over the past couple months. Or nine… I was PREGNANT! Okay, I wasn't, but I do owe you all a world of apologies.

Story Note: So it's another AU, and yeah… it's the cliché 'Harry's Got a Band…Woah' thing. Sorry. But this'll be different, I hope. Well, you tell me. I'm keeping the characters as in-character as possible with an AU. This won't be like 'ISDY' because, no, they aren't punk rock in this one (though expect some over-lapping elements in S-T-Y-L-E) (that spells 'Umbilical Cord' for those of you who can't read between hyphens).

Logan Loveless

Chapter One: Good-bye Doubt

Wild black hair, dark full lips, high cheekbones, and a pair of black smudged eyes that were tightly closed, hiding what everyone knew were two bright emeralds. The lead singer of Logan Loveless clutched the microphone with white-knuckled hands, and wailed a high note that softly rang in the ears of the spectators in the small club. He wiped some of his lengthy hair from where it was stuck with sweat to his forehead and opened his eyes wide:

"And I've never liked the light

But you make it burn much deeper

When you drown me in your pessimism

And smother me with lies…"

The frail form fell to his knees in a heap of raggedy black clothes and breathed hard into the mic. The guitars died down and the drumbeat slowed until it wasn't there either and only the piano was being delicately played as the singer finished quietly:

"So let go

Of the pain that

You've branded me with

Walk away

I don't need your help to die…"

His last words echoed around the room in what could have been classified as a whisper, a sob, and a low growl, all in one.

Immediately the crowd responded: teenage girls screaming and a few friends of the band making loud hoots. Harry Potter grinned from where he was sitting on the stage, still breathing rather hoarsely. He stood and thanked them all for coming to their show. The last song was over, the show was over, everyone was going home.

Logan Loveless was a local band of Godric's Hollow, a reasonably well-sized town near Wiltshire, and like most of the local bands, they received very little publicity. The band often played at small venues in the Hollow (as the town was often called) or in one or two in Wiltshire, like they had this night in 'The Leaky Cauldron'.

Mostly interested in the band were girls from the near-by high schools who paid no attention to the so-so music that the band produced, but who thought the band was dead sexy. Logan Loveless also attracted a lot of kids that were into the gothic scene, the type that dressed in dark, depressing clothing, the type that ran away from home, and the type that could relate to their lyrics, though they weren't exactly a gothic band. They did have a slightly creepy sound to their music, but it was quite beautiful as well, especially since they had such a gifted singer.

As people exited the small club, Harry Potter was on his knees again, packing up his microphone that he always supplied for himself when the band did shows. He looked up from his case and addressed a small boy with light brown hair that covered his eyes in the front and was cut short in the back, who was sitting behind a drum kit, "We played pretty well tonight, I think. And you were great, Slater."

"Thanks. Yeah, this was probably the best night we've had since we started performing Saintly Sinner." Slater's voice came out deeper than one would expect from his scrawny form, considering he was even scrawnier than Harry, who was not only short but had also been through several eating disorders a year before. "I think it could still use a little practice, though." Slater Fennec loved music and he wanted the band to be the best it could be. He had started playing drums when he was thirteen and his wealthy parents had been dismayed that he had lessened his time with his clarinet to make 'such racket', but they had supported him. After being picked on about his height for so long, he had needed someway to make himself more noticed and to express his emotions, because he had always been a very quite person. The drums had provided that relief, along with the tattoos on his arms. At nineteen, he was the oldest member of Logan Loveless, whom he had been with since he was seventeen, and although he was shy and quiet in public, around his band mates he could be just as crazy as he was on drums.

"Which song are you taking about?" Adrial, one of the guitarists in the band, asked as he re-entered the stage from putting his instrument away. "I hope you didn't say Saintly Sinner, 'cause I worked my arse off on that piece."

"No, no. Of course not. Definitely not Saintly Sinner," replied Slater with a convincing tone that no one would believe anyway. But Adrial just rolled his eyes and grinned his patented grin that drove the girls wild.

Adrial Mertin had grown up on the wrong side of town in a perfect family, quite unlike Harry's dysfunctional aunt, uncle, and cousin in their nice home. Ever since he was little he had been called a gorgeous boy so it was no surprise that he was a bit arrogant at seventeen. He had dyed black hair that fell a bit past his shoulders in soft, straight locks and framed his pale slender face perfectly. His dark blue eyes were cat-like and well-defined by dark lashes while his lips were light and usually spread in a smile. He was average height and dressed in nice, black dress-clothes, which was a bit suspicious since his family didn't have a ton of money. He loved girls and girls loved him, but he wasn't interested in the type of girl that people would pin him to be interested in. He didn't like the rocker girls or the goth girls that he flirted with so often, and he wasn't even interested in the more 'normal' looking girls that swooned over their band in their short skirts and revealing shirts. He had the oddest attraction to the smart Asian girls that are seen pouring over books at the library. And it wasn't one of those 'I like sexy schoolgirls' things, he just really admired them.

Adrial was one of the less-talented members of the band, but it was only because he didn't have as much motivation, otherwise he could have been much better. The bassist, Wednesday Sherman, was a perfect example of the opposite sort of person.

Wednesday walked in front of the stage with her bass guitar and said in her soft and quiet voice, "We're booked to play here again in two weeks, don't forget," and walked away with a wave over her shoulder. She was the responsible factor of Logan Loveless and also the strange one. They had met her when she was fifteen and had just moved from America and started in the school that Harry, Adrial, and their other guitarist, Mathew, attended. They had first been interested in talking to her because she looked like one of them, in gray and black clothing, band T-shirts that corresponded with their own, and outrageous make-up. She had a pretty face and dark brown hair that was down to her waist but she preferred to be unnoticed in dull clothing and with her quiet demeanor and she was in no way interested in dating. The guys had also found that she was slightly off in a way that they loved: although she rarely spoke, she did odd little things once in a while or made random noises that caused people to look at her like she was crazy. But it didn't matter to the band because they had been in need of a bassist for nearly a year and she was kick-ass on the instrument. Like Harry, she was sixteen so she was the newest member of the band, though eleven months with them had her accepted as part of the family.

The final member of the band, Mathew had packed up his guitar and was following Wednesday out the door of the club, into the silent night outside. He did a little jig when he got to the exit and turned around towards his friends, "It was a great night! Man, I had a great night!" His wavy blond locks that fell around his friendly face bounced and his piercing blue eyes twinkled. "Practice at my house tomorrow, guys!" He smiled his big white smile, pulled his black velvet jacket on inside out, and left.

"Wednesday's driving him, right?" Adrial asked Slater.

"She always does," Slater assured him.

Mathew Hartman couldn't play a show without drinking a bit first. Some people wouldn't notice because his personality didn't change at all--he was still the friendly, fun-loving guy that he was without the alcohol, and his band mates didn't mind at all since he almost seemed to play better with it. He was just a nervous guy when it came to things that he could potentially screw up on. Mathew was Adrial's age, seventeen, a senior at the high school, and he lived with his mother, little sister, and Brad, his mom's boyfriend. Brad and Mathew didn't get along, though it was partly due to the fact that Brad was his mom's first boyfriend since his dad had left them. At school, Mathew was one of those guys that everyone knows, everyone loves, and everyone wishes they could be or be with. He dressed the most normal out of the band: jeans and a T-shirt, vintage style. He had been in football until his junior year, when he had been in a car accident, but he had still had his band that he had been playing with since the beginning. His guitar skills were better than Adrial's but he wasn't anything spectacular, which always bothered him. When his grades started slipping, he knew that their band would be all he had, so he let them turn into C's and D's, maybe even an F or two reluctantly. He was embracing the band completely.

Slater put his drumsticks in his backpack, pulled on his old, gray hoodie sweater, and nodded a good-bye to the two remaining guys in the room. He went to thank the manager of the Leaky Cauldron and then left. Harry and Adrial finished putting their things away in silence and then walked out to Adrial's car together. Adrial knew that Harry was always exhausted after a show. The small boy would put all of his energy into his performance, into his voice, that by the end of the show, he would seem as though he was about to pass out. The older of the two also knew that Harry dreaded his arrival back at his home. Although Harry had never said it, the whole band suspected that there was more going on at the Dursley residence than Harry let on.

"Do you think we're good enough?" Adrial asked once they were in the car, driving towards Harry's house.

Harry knew what these vague words meant and was quiet for a moment longer before saying, "We will be by then. We're practicing more now, so I'm sure we'll at least make the audition."

"I don't want to just make the audition, I want to win."

Harry laughed, "You would…"

"What? You don't want to win?"

"Oh, I do… I really do. But I'd be happy enough to just have the opportunity to play in front of so many people."

They were discussing the Battle of the Bands that took place in Godric's Hollow every June. It was a big deal for any local band as they would be able to compete further through the county division if they got first and if they won there, the band could play in London for an even larger audience. In the end, they could potentially be signed for a huge record deal considering there would most certainly be some very important people in the audience.

Logan Loveless had auditioned once before, but most of them had been too young to have the kind of allure that the competition was looking for. This year, they knew they had to make it. It had been their goal since they had first been declined. Each of them was working harder than before and each of them knew that this would be their only chance.

"I know we're good, Harry. But are we going to be better than the other bands?"

"Oh, come on… Are there any bands around here who are really a threat?"

A/N: BTW, with the band: In sound think Muse, but sort of gothic/grungy. That's the look they've got goin' on too, in case you don't catch on. Thanks for reading, hope you review, and sorry for being gone for so long!

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