Marauders - The Musical!
Author's Note - Can you see it? Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, singing their little hearts out! Well, I imagined it, and wrote it! Enjoy! And review! This is totally review driven! Read AN at bottom for more!
Chapter Nine - Wormy Wormtail
Saturday morning, just after an English fry-up, still at James's place in Hastings, 23rd June 1976
"Padfoot." Peter groaned transforming back into podgy teenager and trudging over to the patio in James's garden.
"What?" Sirius said innocently tucking black hair behind his ear.
"You gnawed on my shoes!" Peter picked up a pair of soggy, smelly, shredded shoes. "My last pair of shoes!"
"Erm… Well you need new ones anyway!" Sirius said brightly grinning broadly.
"No I didn't… Well, not really anyway."
"We'll go into town today and get you some… James there is a Wizarding community in Hastings right?" James trotted over frowning slightly.
"No. He'll have to make do with a Muggle shop. There's a good one by the seafront…" James's voice drifted off and a dreamy expression appeared on his face. "The seafront…"
"Prongs?" Sirius waved his hand in front of James's face, but all he did was gaze out towards the trees at the end of his garden. "Well… We'll pop along to the shoe shop then? Prongs? James? James Potter? James Ivan Potter? JAMES?"
"What sorry? Shoes? Lily?" James muttered his eyes de-misting and his vacant expression floundering.
"No Lily. We - need - shoes." Sirius said slowly pointing to Peter's bare feet and chewed up shoes. "I chewed. Yes I chewed Peter's shoes up by miiiistaake. Did you understand that James?"
"Yeah. I guess."
"Look, James. I thought I told you to write to her." Remus intervened chewing the inside of his mouth. James let out a weak laugh.
"I can't even speak properly… How am I meant to hold a quill and put it to parchment then attach it to a damn owl? I hate owls!" Along with Dark Magic and Snape, owls and other birds were up there on James's Hate List Ô .
"OK, we'll just concentrate on getting Peter some new shoes…"
An hour later… The Hastings High Street, just off the seafront.
"Does it always smell of rotting fish by the seaside?" Said a disgruntled city boy Sirius.
"Yes… You get used to it." James said, his head down, and his hands in the pockets of his pale blue jeans
"Yeah, we have to, its what you stink of most of the time." Remus said a grin on his face.
"Look! An ice-cream stall!" Peter squealed clapping his hands together and walking rather quickly to get to the stall. Remus, Sirius and James stayed behind.
"There is a shoe shop here right? Peter is literally falling out of your borrowed shoes James." Remus asked, his eyebrows furrowed. Just as he said that Peter went flying out of the shoes and crashed into a little girl licking her 99 Flake with relish.
"MUMMY!" The little girl screamed. Peter stood up throwing the bits of vanilla ice cream off his white bellbottoms.
"S-sorry!" Peter gasped apologetically and looked round for the others to help him out. "I just fell out of my shoes!"
"Get some new uns then!" The cockney mother yelled. "I brin' me liddle Yvonne aht fera day 'cause she's go' as'ma frum all tha' Lundun air, an' wha' 'appens? She guts stoomped on by some fa' teenaga!" The woman's face was now as fiery as her red hair. Peter just ogled at the woman in horror stuttering apologies and suggesting he buy little Yvonne a new 99.
"That woman's hair… It looks just like Lily's… How I miss it." James whimpered, his hand going forwards trying to touch it.
"James!" Sirius and Remus said at the same time holding him back. "Trust us. That isn't Lily."
"If… If you say so… C'mon Peter. Time for shoes." James ambled by and grabbed Peter by the arm getting him away from the wild woman.
The four boys ended up in a groggy shoe shop that smelt like a dreadful mix of sea salt, rotting fish, cheesy feet and cheap men's aftershave, obviously used to try and spruce up the smell of the sad little shop, it was that or the stench of the salesman, who sported a bigger afro then John Jordan, a Seventh year Quidditch enthusiast at Hogwarts.
"Hi I'm Michael!" He said chirpily clapping his sweaty hands together and flashing his gleaming teeth at the lads. "How may I help you?" He continued to smirk.
"We need to get our friend some shoes that aren't the colour of your uniform, Michael." Sirius said his expression the opposite of Michael. Michael was wearing dreadful tight orange bell bottoms, and a equally disgusting yellow and orange shirt, it all clashed awfully with the brown, beige and orange tones of the dreary shop itself. Peter pointed to himself and smiled nervously at enthusiastic Michael. Michael looked Peter up and down for a split second then asked for his size.
"How big are you?" Michael asked cheerfully, his voice slightly camp.
"What? Sorry?"
"Your shoe size dear."
"Oh! I'm a nine."
"Small… Shame… Not very tall either… Well… Lets see…" Michael played with his fingers in thought before turning around to Peter and clapping his hands in glee. "Oh I know exactly what!"
"What?" Peter said rather dully.
"PLATFORMS!"
"What?" James laughed stepping forward. "You're gonna get Peter here platforms?"
"Yes! And?" Michael said, slapping his cheek in horror. "It's the latest fashion don't you know?"
"Do we look like we follow fashion?" Michael looked at podgy Peter in his stained white bellbottoms, to Remus in his threadbare pale jeans and tartan shirt which was undone a few buttons, to Sirius who was sporting tight jeans and a flamboyant black spangled top with kohl pencil around his pale eyes and then to James who was kitted out in pale blue jeans and a yellow tee-shirt.
"Actually… I thought you were! Look at him!" Michael pointed to Sirius who was looking at a pair of blue Mary-Janes on display.
"What about him?" Remus asked, laughing slightly.
"He is so David Bowie." Michael looked at the vacant expressions in horror. "Y'know Ziggy Stardust! Maybe he's more of a Marc Bolan without the curls… Or even Freddie Mercury without the 'tash and hair…" Sirius scratched his head.
"Do these shoes come in a size twelve?" Sirius asked pointing to the Mary-Janes.
"I've never seen anything like it…" Michael muttered to himself in horror and walked off to the storage room "Not knowing about glam rock when he's glammed up to the nines…"
"This is why we never normally shop in Muggle shops James… They talk nonsense! Who the fuck is David Bowie? I don't want to be like David Bowie who ever he is!"
"He muttered something about a John Travolta to me!" Peter said looking terrified. "Something about disco. I almost thought he was talking about spells. He said I could almost perfect the disco look! I mean what's that all about?" Peter saw down on a futon and took of James's large shoes and waited for Michael to come back with the so-called Platforms.
"I wonder what a platform shoe is…" Sirius asked Remus who was playing with a gold coloured flip-flip. "I mean we go on Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Maybe its got trains on it…"
"Why would a shoe have trains on it?" Remus asked, picking up the gold flip-flop and examining it in the light.
"Muggles are weird…" Sirius sighed. Michael danced back into the shop holding several boxes under his arms.
"I have them! Even if you lot seem to be ignorant of glam rock and disco! Next thing you'll tell me you've never heard of the Bee Gees!" The boys didn't dare ask.
"What do you have for me?" Peter asked wiggling his toes in their patterned socks.
"Platforms! White ones with tartan patterns… Yellow ones with purple spots! Oh delightful red ones with white stripes, like those barber shop post things! And, the most sublime blue ones that glow in the dark! Oh! Oh! And my favourite. I own two pairs of these! These glow in UV light and have a charming checked pattern on the platform itself. Oh you'll love them dear." Michael went to take the lid off the first box and handed the first platform to Peter who was still looking nervous and shaky.
Peter slipped his feet into the special ones Michael mentioned last. They were a perfect fit… Peter stood up and he was tall. Almost as tall as Remus!
"I'm all tall as Remus!" Peter gasped.
"Unusual name…" Michael muttered. Peter strode over to the main mirror and felt immensely proud, strapping and sexy.
"I feel so… sexy."
"That's the spirit dear! See I told you these shoes were marvellous!"
"I'm too sexy… I'm too sexy for my love, love's going to leave me!" Peter's eyes suddenly filled with an abrupt excitement and he jumped onto the futon and started to shake his arse.
"Go boy! Go!"
"I'm too sexy for my shirt! Too sexy for my shirt! So sexy it huuurrts!" Peter ripped off his white shirt to reveal pale flabby skin and man boobs that wasn't all that sexy.
"Oh no boy.. That's not good boy."
"And I'm too sexy for Milan! Too sexy for Milan, New York and Japaaan!" Peter started to do a manic dance, wiggling his fat arse and man boobs and skipping around the futons, careful not to fall off.
"Okay it was funny at first honey, but now it's gross dear!" Michael continued to protest, shielding his eyes from Peter's dancing.
"And I'm too sexy for your party! Too sexy for your party! No way I'm disco dancing!" He thrust his right arm into the air pointing at the ceiling and his left arm pointing to the brown dusty floor, and started to wiggle his bits again. "I'm a Marauder you know what I mean?" He sang to Michael, who was now positively terrified.
"If you say so dear!"
"And I do my little turn on the catwalk!" He jumped off the row of futons and strode down the middle of the shop his hands on his hips, turning confidently as he did this. "Yeah on the catwalk! On the catwalk yeah! I do my little turn on the catwalk!"
"Don't turn on me little boy!"
"I'm too sexy for my broom! Too sexy for my broom!"
"Peter doesn't own a broom… I do!" James muttered staring at Peter's dancing display. "I don't want him gyrating on my broom!"
"Too sexy for this rooooom! And I'm too sexy for my hat! Too sexy for my hat! What do you think about that?"
"That I'll never be able to wear my hat again…" Remus mouthed, clinging onto Sirius in sheer horror.
"I'm a Marauder you know what I mean! And I do my little turn on the catwalk!" He started to stride and pirouette again… "Yeah! On the catwalk! On the catwalk! Yeah!" Michael seemed to be muttering the Lord's prayer to himself and was looking around the room wondering how he managed to get the worst customers Britain had to offer. "I shake my little touché on the catwalk!" Peter glided over to Michael and shook that arse once again.
"AARRRGGHH!" Michael shrieked holding the lid to a box up to his face.
"I'm too sexy for my cat! Too sexy for my cat!"
"Poor cat…" Sirius sighed… "I wonder if Ted his cat has to put up with this often…"
"Poor pussy! Poor pussy cat!" Peter continued to wail, his arms dancing over his head.
"I'm so glad I'll never have to see a poor pussy!"
"I'm too sexy for my love! Too sexy for my love!" Peter started to caress his body, making Michael quiver at the lip. "Love's going to leave me!"
"Can you leave here?…" Michael said desperately.
"And I'm too sexy for this song!" Peter ran forward, did a clumsy cartwheel and attempted the splits but ripped his white bellbottoms in the process. This seemed to get Peter back into gear and he looked around the shop wildly looking for some sort of answer as to why he was on the floor, why his trousers were ripped, and why his shirt off and his chest for all to see… When he saw Michael he stood up and proudly proclaimed "I'LL TAKE THEM!"
Author's Note
It's been a long time since I updated… 17th October 2003! Well here's the first update, almost a year since I started writing it!
Lookies! It's not a Queen song, but a Right Said Fred song… I've kept the mad-cap Seventies themes. And added a camp afro dude as a comedy device! College is literally over so I could write!
PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW!
And I know you will, because you're all so wonderful and complimentary and I love you all! Because this was written for you weird people who like reading my fics…