Something I wrote about 2 years ago based on J.K. Rowling's 800 word prequel about the Flying Motorbike. The latter half of this one-shot is sole property of J.K. Rowling.
"James, James!" Sirius called, excitement clear in his tone.
"What is it now, Sirius?" James replied in a rather irritated monotone. He had been hoping to enjoy his summer vacation with Lily, but Sirius was always up to something that deterred the couple from meeting.
"You'll never believe it mate! Guess what I found?" Sirius was practically jumping in his eagerness to report to James.
"Well, what is it then, Padfoot?" James tried to sound enthusiastic for the sake of his best friend.
"Well, I was down at the Ministry last night," Sirius began to stall his explanation a bit.
"Blimey mate! What business do you have there? I thought we promised to stay clear of the Ministry. What if they find out that we're unregistered Animagi?" James spewed out in surprise. "They might put us in prison."
"Prongs, don't be an idiot though you are well known for being one," Sirius muttered under his breath.
As James continued glaring at his best friend, Sirius continued, "Besides, no one would put us in Azkaban for that."
"Well, according to Lily, who has read all the statutes regarding Wizarding Law, this is defined as…" James voice trailed off as Sirius's mouth hung open in disgust.
"What?"
"What does statute mean and since when do you care about Wizarding Law? Blimey mate, this is worse than I imagined. Lily's been a horrible influence. Ever since you started dating her, you've been no fun. Something must be done," Sirius announced, completely forgetting why he had come to the Potter house in the first place.
"Lay off on Lily, will you? Your constant bickering has driven me insane. So get this straight: she's my girlfriend and you're my best mate," James finally spouted, having had enough of his friend's insults.
"Sorry mate. I should have realized. I'll try to stop is she does a fair attempt on her part too," Sirius agreed.
"So, why were you down at the Ministry?" James said; eager to change the topic before anything else spiraled out of control.
"Right, that's why I was here. So you know Arthur Weasley, right? Red-headed fellow about a decade older than us lot. He was just hired in the department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department," Sirius reported.
"Oh…I remember him. Rather short, recently married, a few dozen kids?" James laughed at the image.
"So, I was down there last night when I heard a noise in one of the rooms. I opened the door to find Arthur tinkering around with the motorbike. I thought that this would be a great opportunity to have some fun," Sirius explained.
"Sirius, you didn't" James chuckled as he realized Sirius's plan.
"Yup, I blackmailed him all right," Sirius grinned, pleased with his friend's reaction. "I put the Black in blackmail."
"That poor fellow," James said with some sympathy, "So, how did you get it from him?"
"Well, I threatened to report him to his own department. He began pleading with me saying that it had taken him long enough to find this job. You know how his family is, constantly looking out for money. So, I compromised. Wouldn't Lily be pleased?" Sirius inserted slyly.
James frowned slightly but urged his friend too continue with the tale.
"So, I told him that no one had to find out if he let me borrow the bike for a while. Of course, I'll probably never return it, and if he asks for it, I could always report it to the ministry," Sirius finished triumphantly.
"Brilliant mate," James exclaimed, "So where is it now?"
"Thought you would be so excited, so I brought it over for a spin. It's in the front yard," Sirius grinned from ear to ear.
"I don't think it would be to our best interest to do it right now. It's getting dark out there," James looked out the window and noted the setting sun.
"That's where all the fun comes in. Being with Lily made you too cautious. Now, it's time for the real entertainment to commence, riding freestyle," Sirius scoffed at James's petty worries.
"It's a bike! What more can it do?" James
"What more can it do? How dare you ask such a question? It flies mate. That's what it does! Arthur managed to add that before losing it to me!" Sirius's smile was beyond contagious.
"Why didn't you tell me that before? It's excellent. Well come on then. What are you waiting for?" James demanded.
The two reckless boys dashed out to the Potters' front yard. Sirius immediately inserted the key, attempting to turn on the bike and finally succeeding after 10 minutes.
"No helmets?" Sirius queried.
"No helmets!" James responded with just as much as zest and enthusiasm.
Sirius grasped the clutch on the bike and began accelerating immediately.
"Sirius, I just had a sudden thought. Have you ridden one of these before?"
"Of course not! But that's all part of the fun," he shouted as he boys raced down the street at an astonishing, eye-bulging speed.
The speeding motorcycle took the sharp corner so fast in the darkness that both policemen in the pursuing car shouted 'whoa!' Sergeant Fisher slammed his large foot on the brake, thinking that the boy who was riding pillion was sure to be flung under his wheels; however, the motorbike made the turn without unseating either of its riders, and with a wink of its red tail light, vanished up the narrow side street.
'We've got 'em now!" cried PC Anderson excitedly. 'That's a dead end!"
Leaning hard on the steering wheel and crashing his gears, Fisher scraped half the paint off the flank of the car as he forced it up the alleyway in pursuit.
There in the headlights sat their quarry, stationary at last after a quarter of an hour's chase. The two riders were trapped between a towering brick wall and the police car, which was now crashing towards them like some growling, luminous-eyed predator.
There was so little space between the car doors and the walls of the alley that Fisher and Anderson had difficulty extricating themselves from the vehicle. It injured their dignity to have to inch, crab-like, towards the miscreants. Fisher dragged his generous belly along the wall, tearing buttons off his shirt as he went, and finally snapping off the wing mirror with his backside.
'Get off the bike!' he bellowed at the smirking youths, who sat basking in the flashing blue light as though enjoying it.
They did as they were told. Finally pulling free from the broken wind mirror, Fisher glared at them. They seemed to be in their late teens. The one who had been driving had long black hair; his insolent good looks reminded Fisher unpleasantly of his daughter's guitar-playing, layabout boyfriend. The second boy also had black hair, though his was short and stuck up in all directions; he wore glasses and a broad grin. Both were dressed in T-shirts emblazoned with a large golden bird; the emblem, no doubt, of some deafening, tuneless rock band.
'No helmets!' Fisher yelled, pointing from one uncovered head to the other. 'Exceeding the speed limit by – by a considerable amount!' (In fact, the speed registered had been greater than Fisher was prepared to accept that any motorcycle could travel.) 'Failing to stop for the police!'
'We'd have loved to stop for a chat,' said the boy in glasses, 'only we were trying -'
'Don't get smart – you two are in a heap of trouble!' snarled Anderson. 'Names!'
'Names?' repeated the long-haired driver. 'Er – well, let's see. There's Wilberforce… Bathsheba… Elvendork…'
'And what's nice about that one is, you can use it for a boy or a girl,' said the boy in glasses.
'Oh, OUR names, did you mean?' asked the first, as Anderson spluttered with rage. 'You should've said! This here is James Potter, and I'm Sirius Black!'
'Things'll be seriously black for you in a minute, you cheeky little -'
But neither James nor Sirius was paying attention. They were suddenly as alert as gundogs, staring past Fisher and Anderson, over the roof of the police car, at the dark mouth of the alley. Then, with identical fluid movements, they reached into their back pockets.
For the space of a heartbeat both policemen imagined guns gleaming at them, but a second later they saw that the motorcyclists had drawn nothing more than -
'Drumsticks?' jeered Anderson. 'Right pair of jokers, aren't you? Right, we're arresting you on a charge of -'
But Anderson never got to name the charge. James and Sirius had shouted something incomprehensible, and the beams from the headlights had moved.
The policemen wheeled around, then staggered backwards. Three men were flying – actually FLYING – up the alley on broomsticks – and at the same moment, the police car was rearing up on its back wheels.
Fisher's knees buckled; he sat down hard; Anderson tripped over Fisher's legs and fell on top of him, as FLUMP – BANG – CRUNCH – they heard the men on brooms slam into the upended car and fall, apparently insensible, to the ground, while broken bits of broomstick clattered down around them.
The motorbike had roared into life again. His mouth hanging open, Fisher mustered the strength to look back at the two teenagers.
'Thanks very much!' called Sirius over the throb of the engine. 'We owe you one!'
'Yeah, nice meeting you!' said James. 'And don't forget: Elvendork! It's unisex!'
There was an earth-shattering crash, and Fisher and Anderson threw their arms around each other in fright; their car had just fallen back to the ground. Now it was the motorcycle's turn to rear. Before the policemen's disbelieving eyes, it took off into the air: James and Sirius zoomed away into the night sky, their tail light twinkling behind them like a vanishing ruby.
If you liked it, make sure to leave a comment in the bow below or fave.
~Voldy