Moon Jive Jazz

Summary: One of the Marauder's most infamous misadventure told in a morbidly up-beat jazzy number reminiscent of Danny Elfman.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of one J.K.Rowling, and used with much appreciation without her permission. Though any dancing skeletons in the background belong solely to myself.

A/N: Written in what should be a similar style to Danny Elfman or Tim Burton. Hopefully, would make them proud! Just a bit of lively fun, which I hope will give Harry Potter an entirely different feel.

Now here's the story of the Marauder's four

The same old tune to an all new score.

Thought you'd heard it all? How wrong you were,

'Cause this ain't ever been part of the herd.

I'll take this moment to thank you all

For comin' right in and havin' a ball.

So, with no more adieu here begins our tale

Of Padfoot, Mooney, brave Prongs and Wormtail.

They met in the grounds under the old Willow tree,

On a dark foggy night, at a quarter to three.

The jive moon was up and was full to the brim

But that didn't matter 'cause they just wanted in.

To sit with their friend on this gruesome of nights,

Keeping him safe and right outta sight.

Now here starts the story of the monster of fear,

Those of you still listenin' lend me an ear.

What happened next, now this was the shocker

Take out your wives or they'll need a doctor.

The wolf was out, barbaric and wild,

After some flesh and the occasional child.

But folks, just sit tight, just wait, there's more.

Who should come knockin' on that old Willow door?

The dude they most hated, the one with the nose.

The guy could do nothin', just stood there and froze.

A monster unleashed could've gobbled him up

But Prongs, the hero, had just had enough.

He went in, grabbed hold and pulled with his might

'Til Nosey defrosted and ran for his life.

Mooney missed out on the meal he so wanted

And the looney old Head just said it was haunted,

That Shack on the hill with a ghosties scare,

But one man knew what was truly up there.

A werewolf, a monster, a devil's delight,

With a taste for meat and a bloody appetite.

And so he made a vow to lay in wait

Until he could set up the trap and the bait.

But don't you folks worry your pretty li'l heads

There'll be plenty of time before the wolf is lead

Into those grounds beneath that old Willow tree

On a dark, foggy night at a quarter to three.

With his psychotic bud waiting inside

And screwy old Nosey after his hide.

But that's a diff'rent tale to be told

Maybe next time when we're all dead and cold.

See you crocs later, will talk to you soon

For an all new story under the jive, jazzy moon.