Chapter Two

Writing Songs

Ron rolled out of bed the next morning and stretched lazily. He was getting quite excited about the upcoming contest. Hopefully I'll actually do well. I could really use that hundred galleons. He walked over to Harry's bed and poked at the still lump of covers that was Harry. "Hey, mate. Wake up. We'll be late for Divination if you don't get your lazy arse out of bed."

Harry grumbled and tugged his covers over his head.

Ron walked back to his bed and grabbed his wand out from under his pillow. He'd slept with it there ever since Sirius Black had ripped through his bed hangings in third year. True, Sirius turned out to be the good guy, but that didn't matter to Ron. He was still almost attacked.

Ron's mind meandered off in this direction for a few seconds before he remembered why he was getting his wand. He turned back to Harry's bed and pointed his wand at the top of the blankets.

Ron muttered a spell and the covers wrenched themselves out of the fingers of his best friend and the boy lay there, curled into the fetal position and shivering violently. Ron sniggered and put his wand down on his nightstand.

Harry growled and uncurled himself. "You are a bloody rotten prat. I hate you so much sometimes, Ron."

"Nah, you really don't, Harry." Ron grinned at Harry, who glared back. "So what kind of song are you singing, Mate?"

"Dunno. I'll think of something. Do you realize we have to really write the sodding song as well as sing it?" Harry looked at Ron, fear playing in his eyes.

"It's not so bad. Just pick a song and write new words. You can handle that. And I've heard your voice in the showers. You'll be fine." Ron patted the newly-blushing boy's back reassuringly. "Don't worry. Just write what you feel, Harry."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Fred and George Weasley sat in a corner, poring over a piece of parchment.

"No, George. It should be this, not that." Fred yanked the quill out of his twin's hand and scribbled something on the page.

"Oh, good show, man!" George patted his brother on the back and grinned. "This is going to be something no one will ever forget."

Fred nodded. "I bet not even good ol' Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs would have had such a brilliant idea."

George grinned. "Too true, dear brother. Too true."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco sat at his desk, quill in hand, tongue protruding slightly as he wrote down some more lyrics to his song. He was determined to make as much of his selection his own words. After a good three hours of writing, he'd just about finished. Just this one line. Damn it! Draco's tongue swept across his lips and settled itself back in the corner of his mouth. "I something something doo doo dooooo…" He tried singing through the song, hoping to coax the line out of his mind and heart. It wasn't working.

Draco dropped his quill on the parchment in front of him. He knew he wasn't going to get anywhere being huffy like this. He pushed the quill aside and picked up the parchment. Glancing quickly at the door and seeing the thick haze of protection spell he'd set up were still in place, he stood and started pacing the room with the paper in his hand. On his next pass, he grabbed his wand from the desk and waved it in the air above him. The opening notes of the song began to play and Draco sang his words along to the music.

When he reached the spot he'd been working on, words started pouring out of his mouth. He rushed over to the desk, leaned on the wood tabletop and wrote down the line, speaking each word as he wrote, and singing the line over quietly to remember what he'd just said. He straightened and waved his wand again, starting the music from the beginning. His tenor filled the room as he sang the song again, this time with the feeling he knew was present in the words he'd written. A tear trickled down his face. Damn. I even impress myself. I must be good…

Draco wandered back to his desk and tapped the bottom drawer with his wand. The drawer pushed itself open and waited, empty. Draco sighed, looking at the sheet he'd written his lyrics on. Then he settled the paper in the drawer carefully, trying hard not to smudge the still-drying ink, and tapped the drawer closed again. He whispered a locking charm on the drawer. Draco leaned over and pulled the drawer open manually. Inside was not the parchment he'd stowed inside, but a stack of his school books. "Perfect."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Seamus Finnigan walked into the Transfiguration classroom alone. "Professor?"

Professor McGonagall looked up from the half-graded papers at the boy standing before her. "Yes, Finnigan?"

"I have a question about the singing contest." He seemed suddenly enthralled with a spot on the stone floor.

"Yes? What is it?" asked McGonagall gently.

"Well, see-. I don't sing very well," started Seamus. "But I would like to be onstage. So I was wondering…" He cut off, blushing.

"Come on then. Out with it. What were you wondering?" The professor was getting slightly annoyed as she still had a very large stack of papers to grade.

Seamus mumbled something incomprehensible and she asked him to kindly repeat himself. "Could I do the emceeing for the contest?" he blurted out.

McGonagall's eyebrows raised slightly and her normally stern face broke into the hint of a smile. "I must discuss this with the headmaster, but since I believe you are the first to ask, I would assume that you should be allowed."

Seamus' face spread into a great smile. "Thank you so much, Professor McGonagall." He turned and practically skipped out of the room.

"Remember, it's not definite yet!" called McGonagall. She smiled to herself though. The headmaster never rejected a request from one of her Gryffindors. Well, she thought. I guess we have an emcee now. This contest is well underway.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry grinned. He'd finally found a song that he liked. Now all I have to do is write the words. Harry got out his muggle-made Discman and the CD he'd enchanted. He set the earphones over his ears and sat down on his bed with parchment and a quill. He closed his eyes and leaned back into his pillows. He listened to the song at least three times over before the right words started coming to him. But once they started, Harry's hand couldn't scribble them down fast enough.

Harry kept his eyes closed for a long time after he'd written out the words, humming along with the song. He whispered the words along to the music a few times, trying to fuse them into his mind.

Harry knew that the song could possibly start something that he wasn't quite prepared for, but he knew that it was absolutely imperative. The words had come from his heart and he could feel the power behind them. Now if only I can get this certain someone on the stage so they can understand… Harry decided he needed to talk to Professor McGonagall and ask for a bit of help from her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle sat together in the Slytherin common room, staring intently at the blank parchment in front of them.

Vin looked up at Greg dumbly. "What now?" he asked.

Greg stared back, eyes just as blank as his yearmate. "Uh… Dunno."

Vin shook his head sadly. This ain't gonna be easy, he thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Neville Longbottom smirked. Yes, he did. Wow. I can smirk. I impress myself. He looked down at the table in front of him. On it rested his sheet of lyrics for the contest.

Neville had decided that not only did he need to be in the show, but he needed to do something really good. He also decided that he needed to keep his performing a secret. So he came to the library where he now sat, in a corner of the History of Magic section. No one ever came to this part of the library except for Hermione Granger, and she was busy writing her own song in the Gryffindor common room with Ron.

So there Neville sat, writing out his song. And he smiled in anticipation. No one was going to even come close to expecting this song from him. And he would make sure only the necessary teachers knew. He packed up his notebooks, tucking the precious sheet of lyrics inside one of them. Then he stood and hurried off to dinner.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ron grinned. He had his lyrics sitting in front of him. He and Hermione had worked diligently to work them out. They had decided that they would sing a number together. Thank Merlin. I wasn't really all that keen on singing alone.

Ron beamed at the thought of singing with Hermione. They'd only been dating for a month or so, and not everyone knew yet. This should do it though. If they don't know now, they will as soon as we're done singing.

Ron grinned again. He couldn't wait. He was going to have a little surprise waiting for Hermione the day of the contest. She's going to just die… But not really. He couldn't stop smiling at his cleverness.

But he did need to clear it with Professor McGonagall, just to make sure. But he was quite certain she would be more than willing to help him out. Woman is a sappy one. Even if she doesn't look it. Or act it. Ron sighed. He decided he would approach her after dinner about his routine.

~*~TBC~*~