Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. All songs listed belong to their respective writers, singer, producers and/or labels. They were too many to list this time. Also, the half quote is from "Romeo and Juliet."
Chapter 30: White Christmas
"The Headmaster wants to see you in his office," Snape ordered. "Come along, Potter."
"See you later Harry. Watch out for old mumblies. They like to fly upside down and up people's noses, making them do crazy things. They like lemon drops, you know," she waved as she skipped away. "Night Professor. Sleep tight and don't let the grable-bugs bite."
The owl took flight barely missing the potions master's head with its wings as the girl skipped from the Hall. He snarled, glaring at the bird. "Bloody Bird! Go to the owlery where you belong!"
0o0o0o0
Harry stood with the rest of the champions. He may have to participate in this barbaric tournament, but it didn't mean he had to do his best. However, he would give them a show the like of which they would not forget.
So the first Task would be with dragons? He recalled what his first tutor had once said about dragons. "They are an ancient race which, unlike the dragons that had remained Underground had, over time, regressed to a more primitive state." Harry rolled his eyes, he was sure they could still be reasoned with. He only knew a few words in draconian and he rehearsed them mentally as he waited. He prayed to the Goddess that this dragon could understand High Elvish, or he was a cooked goose, literally.
When it came time for his turn he walked up to the dragon with his guitar slung onto his back. He bowed to the fearful beast who was guarding her eggs. She poised alertly, ready to breath fire on him if he got any closer.
"Greetings Noble Lady, I mean you no harm," he called before switching from the old tongue to high elvish. "I am a Young Bard trained in the Old Magics, forced as are you, to participate in this barbaric trial. Please, wilt thou allow me to play for thee?" He sat on a nearby rock well away from her fangs and claws. The rock would serve as a shield should she take offense to his presence.
The crowd behind her roared for him to do something, but he ignored them. He focused on his audience of one as he adjusted his guitar. She would be his greatest critic to date, and only if he could convince her of his bardic neutrality would he then be allowed to approach her nest. He strung the opening chords and poured his magic into the song.
"I've been alive forever, and I wrote the very first song
I put the words and the melodies together
I am music and I write the songs
I write the songs that make the whole world sing
I write the songs of love and special things
I write the songs that make the young girls cry
I write the songs, I write the songs . . ."
She paused, settling gracefully around her eggs, her eyes half-lidded and calm as she listened intently. To those watching from the stands, she seemed like a great green-scaled cat dozing in a patch of sunlight, but woe be a mouse that happens by!
". . .My home lies deep within you
And I've got my own place in your soul
Now, when I look out through your eyes
I'm young again, even though I'm very old. . ."
Harry finished his song and stood. He was every inch a bard of the Old Magic in his stance. He peered up at the resting dragon and gave a graceful, sweeping bow. "Great Lady, forgive my poor use of the old language," he said in high elvish. "Thou hast, in thy nest one that serves as a cuckoo's egg. Tis not of thy body, but put there for this trial. If it please you, may I take the one that be false? Even so, I will go and trouble you no more."
The dragon sorted through her eggs and rolled out the golden one. She rumbled something to him and he smiled. "Forgive me, Great Lady but my knowledge of thy noble tongue is only fleeting," he continued in high elvish, picking up the egg. "And take my thanks for your help. I bid you fair skies and strong nestlings. Parting is such sweet sorrow. Though I wish I could spend more time with thee in sweet discourse, my trial forbids it. Until we meet again anon." He gave one more gracious bow to her before backing away. She rumbled a loud reply and belched flames, but not at him rather into the air, signaling her farewell, startling an outcry among the spectators.
He was greeted by the stunned silence of the crowd. Holding his egg in front of him, he presented it with a smile. "I have concluded your puerile task. Here is the prize."
Harry walked away slowly. His time wasn't the best, placating an angry dragon took time, but what did it matter if he came in first or last?
0o0o0o0
"Dear Snuffles,
It is assured that Hooligans will be playing at the Yule Ball. I got a note from Garrod stating that old Dumbles had hired the Hooligans, sight unseen, as backup for the Weird Sisters. Won't he be surprised?
I did find myself in a bit of a sticky wicket though. Prof. McGonagall informed me that I needed a date for the ball. And just how am I suppose to perform and deal with a date at the same time?
Well got to run.
–G
0o0o0o0o0
Dear G
Have you ever thought of being the ultimate gentleman and asking Minerva if you might be her escort?
–Snuffles
0o0o0o0
Snuffles,
Are you out of your ever lovin' mind?! She's old!
–G
0o0o0o0
Dear G
So? At least she doesn't have 'girl cooties' anymore.
–S
0o0o0o0
Christmas came too soon. Harry had diligently avoided the subject on who he was taking to the dance. When asked his only response to all questions pertaining to the Ball was an enigmatic smile. In reality, he hadn't asked anyone. There was no way he could perform and attend chivalrously to a date. It just wouldn't be fair for either of them.
The night of the Yule Ball finally arrived. The Great Hall was decorated in a winter wonderland theme. Huge decorated pine trees dotted the corners while boughs of fir and holly laced with ribbons hung from the rafters and windows creating a winter garden. Tiny fairy lights danced among the greenery and from time to time tiny bell-like giggles could be heard. The enchanted ceiling showed a starry night as magical snow fell, disappearing before it hit the floor.
Where the head table once stood a large stage had been erected. A dark curtain draped behind the instruments, creating a backdrop for the music. On either side of the stage were two huge Scotch pines decorated with fairy lights and magical ornaments. The stage was pre-charmed for lighting effects and sound. It allowed everyone in the Great Hall to see and hear the music perfectly.
The lights dimmed and all conversation ceased as two beautiful, dark-blonde haired young men with mismatched eyes strolled onto the stage. Both were dressed in matching crushed black frock coats with silver trim. They also wore silver-grey stretch spandex with knee high black leather boots.
"Thank you all for inviting us, I am Garrod," Garrod said as he did a quick riff on the keyboard, "I play keyboard and brass. My brother Jarrod is on the drums." A quick flourish on the drums greeted his words only to be lost in the screams of the girls. "And lastly, playing guitar is our lead singer, Harry Potter, and together, we are . . . 'The Hooligans'!"
Harry walked out on stage to a stunned audience. He was dressed like the twins, except his frock coat was a deep emerald green velvet and his spandex were black. He nodded to the twins as they struck the opening chords of, "We are the Champions."
If anyone had happened to look over at Albus Dumbledore just then, they would have seen a very unhappy headmaster. The normal twinkle in his eyes had dimmed to a faint flash of anger that gave way to conniving speculation. However, no one noticed.
0o0o0o0
Without missing a beat, in the middle of the song, Harry jumped off stage, continuing to sing:
"We are the champions - my friends
And we'll keep on fighting - till the end -
We are the champions -
We are the champions
No time for losers
cause we are the champions - of the world -"
Harry, with the sonorous on himself, strolled through the dancing champions and their dates, heading straight for Prof. McGonagall.
When he finished the vocal portion of the song, he signaled to his brothers to continue the music. With a slight bow, he held out his hand to his Head of House, silently asking her to dance. At first the aged professor looked as if she would refuse but he kept his hand out towards her and she accepted.
His brothers gave Harry and the professor time to do one turn around the dance floor before bringing the song to an end.
Harry kissed the back of Professor McGonagall's hand as he bowed slightly. With all the charm instilled in a prince of the Fae, he said, "Thank you My Lady Professor for the gracious gift of your company. I regret I was unable to follow your edict in securing a partner for this evening, but none here can match your elegant grace and t'would have been unseemly for a student to request your company for the whole evening."
Minerva McGonagall curtsied and smiled as a faint blush graced her cheeks. In her soft scottish brogue she replied, fanning herself, "Och, get along wie ye Mr. Potter. Ye've a tongue to charm the birds fra the trees." The sparkle in her eyes belied her words.
The highlight of their set was their medley dedicated to several members of the staff by the Hooligans. For Professor McGonagall, they sang "Everyone wants to be a Cat." Professor Dumbledore was serenaded with "The Candy Man." Professor Flitwick was "Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious," Professor Sinister was "Second Star on the Left," for Hagrid, "Dr. Doolittle," and lastly, for Professor Snape, "You are a Mean One, Mr. Grinch." Of course, with the last chorus, Harry let it slip "You're a mean one, Mr. Snape" to the enjoyment of all, except for the snarky potion master who glared at the trio on stage.
Until the Hooligans came to their last song of the night. The stage lights dimmed and one spot light fell on the stage. Harry came out alone, bringing with him a bar stool and his guitar. He sat quietly until silence fell over the Great Hall.
Taking his guitar in hand, he played the first few bars of a song many of the muggle-borns recognized. It was an old classic made famous by Bing Crosby, "White Christmas." As soft white flakes of magical snow began to drift once more from the ceiling, Harry began to sing, "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas. . ."
Several couples ventured out onto the dance floor, swaying slowly to the haunting rhythm of the tune. Many of the pure bloods stood rapt, caught by the beauty of the soft ode to the holiday that Harry brought to life through his music.
The rest of the dance went smoothly. The Weird Sisters were a hit as usual, however, many were still talking about the unusual music played by the Hooligans. Many of the half-bloods and muggle-borns had to explain some of the songs to their peers.
After they had put away their instruments, Harry and his brothers joined the other students on the dance floor. None of the boys lacked dancing partners.
Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore stood in the shadows stroking his beard in contemplation as high in the rafters, a grey barn owl watched over all.
0o0o0o0
Thanks all for the reviews. As one reviewer commented about Harry's patronus, we would like to point out that Sirius was there and he would still have told Harry stories about his birth father and mother.
Also, thanks to Robert-1958 for his help with my browser problems. It worked!
Lastly, Frau and I are working on a new story. We've decided to write it completely before posting, so it'll take awhile for that to be seen. (She twisted my arm, as it were.)
Until next time. –GF and The Frau