MERRY CHOTTER AND THE DRUM MAJOR'S STONE
By Kate
Chapter Twelve
Rating: PG
Summary: Merry begins life in school. Conflict, friendship, challenges; it's all good!
A/N: The writing of this story may be slowed slightly by the beginning of two new projects: The Time Machine and The Combustible Emu. TTM is this year's CHS band story and recently premiered. TCE is a webzine/ramble page/general hang-out that some of my friends are starting. It's like a better version of last year's TARDHEAD. When TH was good. If you're interested in working on the Emu, let me know. If you like your life, read and review TTM so I don't hunt you down for not doing so.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own marching band. I'm not making any money from this story. And no, it wasn't me who buttered that monkey's armpits!
CHAPTER TWELVE
On her first day of classes, Merry Chotter awoke bright and early with butterflies zooming around and randomly hitting walls in her stomach. Polades Middle School had had classes, sure, but you could basically pass by being on a sports team or being somehow related to anyone who had ever played on a sports team. Merry had a feeling that the same lineage wouldn't pull much sway here at Smog-Hurts.
To top it all off, her first class was Basic Composition with Snare, the Compositions Master and head of Drumline House. This particular class was also Doubles with Drumline, meaning that Merry would have to endure a teacher who already wasn't looking too fond of her PLUS classmates who belonged to a group headed by Leona Mauvais, whom Merry had flat-out rejected the night before. Merry had read a book on musical structure and composition while Rynn was sleeping on the train to Smog-Hurts, but that didn't explain why she would need her cauldron for this class. * Then again, * Merry thought, * there isn't much that DOES make sense right now. *
Before long, all of the girls in Brasschoir House were awake. They quickly took showers and got dressed. Their "primping time" was made up of the two minutes it took to run a brush through their hair and make sure their bras weren't showing. A few put on a bit of makeup, but it was simple. Windchoir House, on the other hand . . .
Merry and Rynn gathered the supplies necessary for Basic Composition and headed out towards the dungeons with a few other Brasschoir girls. Aldridge met up with them on the way, once again spouting out random facts.
"Aldridge, please, class hasn't started yet. Can we pretend to be NORMAL, SANE PEOPLE, at least until we get to the dungeons?" Rynn begged.
"Fine," Aldridge murmured softly. "I passed Dramatic Studies at my old school with flying colours. I only hope we can say the same about you two if you wish to act normal."
"Wait a second," Merry cut in. "Was that our buddy Aldy actually making a cut AND a joke, only in words to fancy for Rynn and me to understand?"
Rynn pretended to faint. "Dear Lord, I thought I'd never see the day."
Aldridge laughed. "Aw, c'mon, guys. It's not the craziest thing that could happen. Besides, there's a lot about me that you don't know yet."
And for that one moment right before reaching the Compositions Dungeon, it was almost as if the genius Aldridge Grainger, the quiet-but-funny Rynn Feasibly, and the famous Merry Chotter were not only good friends but old friends, perfectly at home and happy in each other's presence.
The happy feeling disappeared the instant the trio walked into Snare's classroom. Reluctantly finding seats and preparing for the class, the three felt the air of suspicion and darkness that haunted the room.
Precisely at the instant first classes started, Professor Snare began to speak. "Welcome to Basic Compositions. I expect all of you to meet the basic expectations for this class but, believe me, only a few of you will have what it takes to make beautiful music and truly succeed. The rest of you I don't expect to understand the subtle art and specific science that is Composing. Rarely do I have a student who truly gets it. If you have the gift and are willing to use it, however, I can teach you how to do wonderful, magical things. I can teach you to attain great fame almost instantly, to stir up great, glorious emotions, and even to charm death. Of course, you'll first have to prove that you are infinitely above the morons they usually give me to teach." He paused for a moment to send a positive-looking glance in the direction of Leona and her little posse of Drumline members. All of a sudden, he burst out with, "CHOTTER! Tell me, what would I get if I took a B-double-flat thirty-second note in five-four time and put a standard fermata on top of it along with a double-sharp?"
Merry wasn't quite sure. Aldridge's hand, however, shot directly into the air. "Um, sir, I'm not quite sure," Merry replied quietly.
"Just as I thought . . ." Snare said maliciously. "And what would happen if I stirred the Heartstring of a Frog into the brew as that change was taking place?"
"No answer," was the only answer Merry could give. Aldridge, of course, was nearly dying of anxiety to answer the question, so Merry couldn't help but add a, "But I think Mr. Grainger there knows."
"SHUT UP!" Snare snapped, then regained his dark composure. "Obviously, fame isn't everything. You, Ms. Chotter, will be lucky to get out of this class with a PASSING GRADE!"
Merry gulped. She had always been a straight-A student. Before she could write a quick, sarcastic note to Rynn, Snare passed out some instructions for a basic two-line ditty in the key of Concert F. This was an especially easy task as they were only required to write parts for a brass quintet: two trumpets, a trombone, a French horn, and a tuba. Merry started to sort out the animal parts necessary for this Intrada and decide upon the melody. Mixing together a brew of emotion and tempo, she hummed the tune softly. She was only halfway through, however, when Aldridge's cauldron exploded in sound. His piece began with a quick trumpet fanfare, followed by a moving French horn/trombone melody with a measured tuba underneath it all. Gradually getting louder and louder, faster and faster, it finally came to a conclusion with another fanfare and resounding chord. All of the Brasschoir members in the class erupted in applause as Drumline/Pit scowled and sulked.
Snare, however, was not at all pleased. "Five points from Brasschoir for interrupting class. Ten points, Mr. Grainger, for using an unassigned key change, thirty-second notes, and range beyond that of a normal First-Year. Ms. Chotter, I'm sure you neglected to tell your friend here that sixteenth notes were the limit, so two more points will be taken from Brasschoir."
The grins on Brasschoir faces and the scowls on Drumline mugs quickly switched places. Luckily, the class ended soon afterward, so Aldridge and Merry didn't get too much flak from their house-mates. Still, they were rather disheartened, so Aldridge went to the library and Merry and Rynn went out to visit Haggis-face in his cottage.
As Rynn and Haggis-face were discussing Carly's work with dragons, Merry looked around the cozy little house. She was disturbed, however, by the cover story in the Daily Prophet lying on Haggis-face's table. "Bring-Your- Dots Break-in!" it screamed. Merry, too, gave a little yelp.
"What?" Rynn asked. Haggis-face's eyes were full of concern.
"The Bring-Your-Dots break-in! It happened on my birthday! Haggis-face, it must've happened while we were there! Suppose we had been killed!" Merry was just ranting now.
"Mm," was Haggis-face's only reply. Merry was unsatisfied, but had no time to pry as she and Rynn had to head back to the castle for their next class: Marching Technique and Basic Flying.
A/N: Well, there you go. Chapter Twelve. If you're bored, go read The Time Machine or one of my other stories. And don't forget to review this AND that! Thanks to those who reviewed Chapter Eleven:
Mellie, Merri Kate, Silver Serpent, The Miserable, adulaith, Clarinelf, coolchick1124.
Dancing Silhouette (Michelle) and Jessica: Family ladder, family helix. I'm going with helix, because they're too twisted to have a ladder.
Jakob der Ludner: Thanks for reviewing my other story! (And Jess, too, but I already commented you and we wouldn't want you to feel TOO loved now, would we?)
Ravenslyth: Well, we have a non-female flute (two, last year) but he's just . . . Ben. He's not even a Big Brother for Big Brothers/Sisters (which horns DON'T do! We have Pit!). He's just a Big Ben. Heh, like the clock.
On the whole in-section dating thing: It's final. It's just trumpets. Everyone else knows better. Heh, Mr. "Your Dad's Still In School" Ryan is in my math class and my chemistry class, I think, for those of you who know what I mean. Hey, Jess, all we need in math to have . . . fun now is you and your abusive daddy!
By Kate
Chapter Twelve
Rating: PG
Summary: Merry begins life in school. Conflict, friendship, challenges; it's all good!
A/N: The writing of this story may be slowed slightly by the beginning of two new projects: The Time Machine and The Combustible Emu. TTM is this year's CHS band story and recently premiered. TCE is a webzine/ramble page/general hang-out that some of my friends are starting. It's like a better version of last year's TARDHEAD. When TH was good. If you're interested in working on the Emu, let me know. If you like your life, read and review TTM so I don't hunt you down for not doing so.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own marching band. I'm not making any money from this story. And no, it wasn't me who buttered that monkey's armpits!
CHAPTER TWELVE
On her first day of classes, Merry Chotter awoke bright and early with butterflies zooming around and randomly hitting walls in her stomach. Polades Middle School had had classes, sure, but you could basically pass by being on a sports team or being somehow related to anyone who had ever played on a sports team. Merry had a feeling that the same lineage wouldn't pull much sway here at Smog-Hurts.
To top it all off, her first class was Basic Composition with Snare, the Compositions Master and head of Drumline House. This particular class was also Doubles with Drumline, meaning that Merry would have to endure a teacher who already wasn't looking too fond of her PLUS classmates who belonged to a group headed by Leona Mauvais, whom Merry had flat-out rejected the night before. Merry had read a book on musical structure and composition while Rynn was sleeping on the train to Smog-Hurts, but that didn't explain why she would need her cauldron for this class. * Then again, * Merry thought, * there isn't much that DOES make sense right now. *
Before long, all of the girls in Brasschoir House were awake. They quickly took showers and got dressed. Their "primping time" was made up of the two minutes it took to run a brush through their hair and make sure their bras weren't showing. A few put on a bit of makeup, but it was simple. Windchoir House, on the other hand . . .
Merry and Rynn gathered the supplies necessary for Basic Composition and headed out towards the dungeons with a few other Brasschoir girls. Aldridge met up with them on the way, once again spouting out random facts.
"Aldridge, please, class hasn't started yet. Can we pretend to be NORMAL, SANE PEOPLE, at least until we get to the dungeons?" Rynn begged.
"Fine," Aldridge murmured softly. "I passed Dramatic Studies at my old school with flying colours. I only hope we can say the same about you two if you wish to act normal."
"Wait a second," Merry cut in. "Was that our buddy Aldy actually making a cut AND a joke, only in words to fancy for Rynn and me to understand?"
Rynn pretended to faint. "Dear Lord, I thought I'd never see the day."
Aldridge laughed. "Aw, c'mon, guys. It's not the craziest thing that could happen. Besides, there's a lot about me that you don't know yet."
And for that one moment right before reaching the Compositions Dungeon, it was almost as if the genius Aldridge Grainger, the quiet-but-funny Rynn Feasibly, and the famous Merry Chotter were not only good friends but old friends, perfectly at home and happy in each other's presence.
The happy feeling disappeared the instant the trio walked into Snare's classroom. Reluctantly finding seats and preparing for the class, the three felt the air of suspicion and darkness that haunted the room.
Precisely at the instant first classes started, Professor Snare began to speak. "Welcome to Basic Compositions. I expect all of you to meet the basic expectations for this class but, believe me, only a few of you will have what it takes to make beautiful music and truly succeed. The rest of you I don't expect to understand the subtle art and specific science that is Composing. Rarely do I have a student who truly gets it. If you have the gift and are willing to use it, however, I can teach you how to do wonderful, magical things. I can teach you to attain great fame almost instantly, to stir up great, glorious emotions, and even to charm death. Of course, you'll first have to prove that you are infinitely above the morons they usually give me to teach." He paused for a moment to send a positive-looking glance in the direction of Leona and her little posse of Drumline members. All of a sudden, he burst out with, "CHOTTER! Tell me, what would I get if I took a B-double-flat thirty-second note in five-four time and put a standard fermata on top of it along with a double-sharp?"
Merry wasn't quite sure. Aldridge's hand, however, shot directly into the air. "Um, sir, I'm not quite sure," Merry replied quietly.
"Just as I thought . . ." Snare said maliciously. "And what would happen if I stirred the Heartstring of a Frog into the brew as that change was taking place?"
"No answer," was the only answer Merry could give. Aldridge, of course, was nearly dying of anxiety to answer the question, so Merry couldn't help but add a, "But I think Mr. Grainger there knows."
"SHUT UP!" Snare snapped, then regained his dark composure. "Obviously, fame isn't everything. You, Ms. Chotter, will be lucky to get out of this class with a PASSING GRADE!"
Merry gulped. She had always been a straight-A student. Before she could write a quick, sarcastic note to Rynn, Snare passed out some instructions for a basic two-line ditty in the key of Concert F. This was an especially easy task as they were only required to write parts for a brass quintet: two trumpets, a trombone, a French horn, and a tuba. Merry started to sort out the animal parts necessary for this Intrada and decide upon the melody. Mixing together a brew of emotion and tempo, she hummed the tune softly. She was only halfway through, however, when Aldridge's cauldron exploded in sound. His piece began with a quick trumpet fanfare, followed by a moving French horn/trombone melody with a measured tuba underneath it all. Gradually getting louder and louder, faster and faster, it finally came to a conclusion with another fanfare and resounding chord. All of the Brasschoir members in the class erupted in applause as Drumline/Pit scowled and sulked.
Snare, however, was not at all pleased. "Five points from Brasschoir for interrupting class. Ten points, Mr. Grainger, for using an unassigned key change, thirty-second notes, and range beyond that of a normal First-Year. Ms. Chotter, I'm sure you neglected to tell your friend here that sixteenth notes were the limit, so two more points will be taken from Brasschoir."
The grins on Brasschoir faces and the scowls on Drumline mugs quickly switched places. Luckily, the class ended soon afterward, so Aldridge and Merry didn't get too much flak from their house-mates. Still, they were rather disheartened, so Aldridge went to the library and Merry and Rynn went out to visit Haggis-face in his cottage.
As Rynn and Haggis-face were discussing Carly's work with dragons, Merry looked around the cozy little house. She was disturbed, however, by the cover story in the Daily Prophet lying on Haggis-face's table. "Bring-Your- Dots Break-in!" it screamed. Merry, too, gave a little yelp.
"What?" Rynn asked. Haggis-face's eyes were full of concern.
"The Bring-Your-Dots break-in! It happened on my birthday! Haggis-face, it must've happened while we were there! Suppose we had been killed!" Merry was just ranting now.
"Mm," was Haggis-face's only reply. Merry was unsatisfied, but had no time to pry as she and Rynn had to head back to the castle for their next class: Marching Technique and Basic Flying.
A/N: Well, there you go. Chapter Twelve. If you're bored, go read The Time Machine or one of my other stories. And don't forget to review this AND that! Thanks to those who reviewed Chapter Eleven:
Mellie, Merri Kate, Silver Serpent, The Miserable, adulaith, Clarinelf, coolchick1124.
Dancing Silhouette (Michelle) and Jessica: Family ladder, family helix. I'm going with helix, because they're too twisted to have a ladder.
Jakob der Ludner: Thanks for reviewing my other story! (And Jess, too, but I already commented you and we wouldn't want you to feel TOO loved now, would we?)
Ravenslyth: Well, we have a non-female flute (two, last year) but he's just . . . Ben. He's not even a Big Brother for Big Brothers/Sisters (which horns DON'T do! We have Pit!). He's just a Big Ben. Heh, like the clock.
On the whole in-section dating thing: It's final. It's just trumpets. Everyone else knows better. Heh, Mr. "Your Dad's Still In School" Ryan is in my math class and my chemistry class, I think, for those of you who know what I mean. Hey, Jess, all we need in math to have . . . fun now is you and your abusive daddy!