A/N: YAY! Chappie five! Thanks to aelwyn and The Pirate Illustionist for reviews!


Disclaimer: As always, I don't own squat. ;)


Mary Porter and the Musician's Metronome
Chapter Five


Mary awoke on the morning of September first. Today was the day she was going off to Boneslides! Vaguely she wondered if it was just a dream. But, no, it wasn't, for there was her sleek black clarinet case sitting on a small shelf in the extra bedroom. After much poking and prodding from her reed-case, she'd convinced Mr. Turkey to let her move into the guest room.

Jazz, Mary's songbird (used in Bird Post, the Musical way of mail), tweeted and flapped his wings. Mary smiled. It really had been really nice of Hagrid to send her the young bird. Jazz had come with a note attached saying that it was a late birthday present for Mary.

Mary rose from her bed and gathered all of his miscellaneous school equipment, stuffing it into a trunk at the foot of her bed. She heaved it down the stairs along with Jazz's birdcage and clarinet case. She grinned evilly as she put her clarinet together, and sneaked silently up the stairs to outside of Diana's room.

All of a sudden, she put the instrument to her mouth and squeaked shrilly. She laughed as a scream came from Diana's room. Diana tore open her door, and screamed again as she spotted Mary with her clarinet. Mary laughed and held out the instrument closer to Diana, who shouted and bolted down the hall to her parents' room.

"MOM! DAD! MARY HAS HER CLARINET OUT AGAIN!! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"

Another squeak followed Diana's scream, and Mr. Turkey banged his bedroom door open.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF JERRY RICE IS GOING ON HERE?" he yelled. Diana whimpered.

"Nothing, Uncle Vincent, I just wanted to wake you up to let you know that I need a ride to Queen's Moss Station in San Francisco," Mary informed him. She put on an angelic face, and when he started to say no, she put the clarinet up to her mouth again.

"DON'T! We'll go! Get in the car! Just put that thing away!"


An hour later, Mary lugged her trunk out to Platform 11. According to her ticket, she was supposed to find Platform 10 and six eighth-notes, but all she saw was 10 and 11.

"-Your instrument case, dear. I'll meet you on the platform. Go now, Robbie dear."

"Yes mom, I've got my Boneslides letter-"

Boneslides? Maybe the redheaded family a bit away from Mary knew where the platform was. Mary approached a redheaded woman and asked her about the platform.

"Oh, Beginner year at Boneslides, dear?" asked the woman. Mary nodded. "Well, so is my little Robbie here." She placed her hand on a young boy with blue eyes and the same red hair as the rest of the family. He frowned as his two of his older sisters, twins, giggled.

"Alright dear, just walk through the wall right there." Mary nodded, a bit apprehensive, and walked through the wall.


She gasped as she saw the magnificent Sliding Express, a long, silver snake that could top over a hundred miles per hour. It was so called because of how it seemed to slide along the tracks.

"ALL ABOARD!" yelled the conductor, who was dressed in a neat gray uniform. Mary set her trunk down to where a few train staff loaded the remaining luggage. She held on to her clarinet case and set and set Jazz free of the birdcage. Jazz followed Mary onto the train, where Mary looked around and found an empty room to sit in.

A few minutes later, a head covered in red hair poked in and asked, "Can I sit here? There wasn't any room left." Mary smiled, and motioned for the boy to sit opposite her.

"Who are you?" she asked, glad to be finally meeting somebody that was a Band Geek like her.

"Oh, I'm Rob Otterly. Y' know, you look familiar somehow…"

"That's because I just asked your mom where the entrance to the Platform was."

"That was you?"

"Yeah! My name's Mary Porter!" Mary grinned again, and then rolled her eyes as Rob gawked at her with his mouth open.

"You were the one who marked time at age one and whose parents died and who was responsible for the fall of you-know-who?" Rob asked in one breath. Mary nodded, and giggled.

The compartment door slid open and a jolly young woman offered sweets for sale.

"What do you have?"

"Oh dear, lots of things you'd like for sure! There are Clarinet Cakes and Harping Hot Balls and Trumpet Cookies and Chocolate Saxophones and Flautist Fran's Every Music-Genre Beans! Do you want anything?"

Rob shook his head, but Mary shoved several paper clips made of real gold into the woman's hand. "We'll take the lot!"

After that, the woman left. Rob looked hungrily at the sweets and said nothing.

"Are you hungry? Do you want some?"

"Really?"

"Of course! What do you want?"

"Maybe a Trumpet Cookie and a Chocolate Saxophone?"

"Sure."

Mary handed Rob half of her pile of sweets, and then wondered about something.

"What do you play?"

"Oh, I'm going to play mellophones," explained Rob in the middle of chewing a Clarinet Cake.

"I've got a clarinet!" exclaimed Mary happily. She opened up a packet of Flautist Fran's Every Music-Genre Beans and poured a couple into her hand.

"I'd watch out if I were you. When you chew them, they play music in your head and when they say every genre they mean every genre! One time Georgia got Hard Rock and she was deaf for two days, and Phoebe got Disco and only got around by doing the moonwalk for a looooooong time."

"Whoa, that's awesome! Hmm, a pink-striped black one!" cried Mary. She popped the bean into her mouth, and hooted. "YEAH, PUNK ROCK BABY!"

Rob laughed as the compartment door slid open yet again. A boy Mary's age with buck teeth and sandy-blond hair opened the door.

"Howdy y'all, have yous seen mah mutt 'round these here parts?" asked the boy with a Southwestern accent.

"Sorry, haven't seen any dogs," answered Rob. The boy glanced at Mary curiously. She was playing air guitar and was yelling lyrics to a strange song.

"She had a Punk Rock Flautist Fran Every Music-Genre Bean," Rob explained.

The boy laughed. "Mah name's Billy, and you must be Rob Otterly, righ'?" Rob nodded.

"Yah, I hear some of yer sister folks talkin' bout you tryin' ta find a seat. Guess ya found one."

"Yep, nice meeting you."

The compartment door closed and Billy continued on down the hall.

"AND I'VE NEVER BEEN THE SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMEEEEEEE!" screeched Mary, who finished up with her song. "Ha, ha, I think I'll stay away from the Beans for a while," she commented. Rob nodded.

Yet again, the compartment door slid open. This time a girl with braided dirty blond hair pulled it open, clutching a small piccolo.

"Have either of you seen a yellow lab running around?" asked the girl. Rob shook his head and Mary answered, "No."

"Whoa, are you- Mary Porter?" exclaimed the girl. "I'm Hannah Grainier, and who are you…?" she asked Rob.

"Rob Otterly."

"Pleasure. Anyway, Mary, oh my GOD I can't believe it's you!! Wow, this is AWESOMENESS!!!!!!!!"

"Ugh, flautists and piccolo players, they're always so hyper," mumbled Rob.

"Can you play? I can play a really high C! Wanna hear?" Hannah put her piccolo up to her mouth and blew. A shrill, high note pierced the air and glass shattered. Mary covered her ears and screamed.

"NOOOOOOOOO! STOP!!" shouted Rob. Jazz fluttered around wildly and Rob's ferret, Sonata, screeched.

Hannah took a deep breath and started playing "Yankee Doodle" at 215 beats per minute, and then ran through her F scale and her C scale before Mary interrupted her with a clarinet squeak.

"Ooh, can you two play?" Hannah asked while jumping up and down. Mary swore Hannah had had WAY too much sugar before getting on the train.

"Well, Georgia transcribed a scale for me and I think I've got it down," said Rob proudly. He blew on his mouthpiece and began blowing random notes on his mellophone. "Dang it, I bet Georgia knew that was a fake scale…"

"… You have a good tone…" Mary said, trying to make Rob feel better.

"Oh, I have to look for the dog. Thanks anyways! Nice meeting you! EEEEEEEEEEEEE! PUPPY! WHERE ARE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU?"

"Sheesh, I've never met someone so HYPER!" exclaimed Mary. Rob nodded in agreement.


Rob and Mary finished the rest of their candy and enjoyed watching each other's reaction to the rest of Flautist Fran's Every Music-Genre Beans. Their fun was interrupted with an announcement from the intercom on the ceiling:

"We will be at Boneslides shortly. All students are asked to put on their marching outfits and all Prefects report to the head of the train."

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKK!!!!! WE'RE GOING TO BONESLIDES!" Mary heard Beginner Year flautists yell as they ran by. She shook her head as she saw Hannah at the head of them. This certainly promised to be an interesting year.


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