Johanna Potter and the Whole of the Moon Chapter 4: Of Broomsticks, Songs, And Bad News, a harry potter fanfic

Chapter Four: Of Broomsticks, Wacked-Out Songs, And Bad News

There's a little foreshadowing in this chapter. I'm not telling you where, but it's there. RandomFandom doesn't own Harry Potter or Cats. Or a cat, for that matter.

RandomFandom: DARN YOU, MOM'S ALLERGIES!

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"I hate the news."

We looked up to see Charli standing at the Gryffindor table. It was breakfast, the morning after the first rehearsal.

"Why's that?" Lee wanted to know.

Charli plopped down in the seat between me and Angelina. She began to read aloud from the Prophet.

"There have recently been a surprising amount of

werewolf attacks in the London area. Some investigators have come to the conclusion that a large number of the beasts have banded together to torment defenseless Muggles. One house was investigated and a dead girl was found. Even worse, a boy who appeared to be her brother was found unconscious on the floor next to her with scars on his arm. They were most certainly tooth marks. It seems that the werewolves are adding to their number."

Charli folded the paper with a rustling noise. "See?" she demanded. "That's why I hate the news! They always put the horrible things on the front page and use the good news as filler!"

I agreed with her completely. I hadn't read the paper without asking if it was safe since I was six.

Seven years earlier:

"TAG! You're it!"

We were chasing each other around the yard, laughing our heads off.

"Kids..."

It was Mrs. Weasley. She had an unusually grave expression on her face. We followed her inside. She sent Ron and Ginny up to their rooms and said there was something she had to tell us.

She read us the newspaper headline.

"Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Bellatrix Lestrange And Barty Crouch Jr. Arrested."

We crowded around the newspaper. I began to read in my innocent little six-year-old voice. "Early yesterday morning, Augusta Longbottom informed the Healers at St. Mungo's..."

Back to present:

The twins and I had heard of the Unforgivables before. But we had heard of the Imperius and Killing Curses, not Cruciatus. We couldn't sleep at all that night. I couldn't get the image of Frank and Alice Longbottom screaming until they went insane out of my head.

That example was the most recent, not the worst. The worst was definitely when I found out that Sirius betrayed our parents (or at least I thought he did...). But I'm not going to do another flashback. Wait for the fifth story in my series like a good girl/boy/hippogriff and then you'll get your flashback.

When we got to the first class of the day (Trans-figuration), that article didn't leave our minds. I found myself thinking of dead girls and boys with deep scars.

I just hoped nothing happened to my friends.

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"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

I sat up so fast I accidentally leaned over too far and cracked my back. "Ow!"

It was around 2:00 in the morning. My roommates were waking up too. Other than Angelina (who had screamed), I shared a dorm with Alicia Spinnet and Lane Tabott. Alicia was the most normal out of everyone in the room. She had very shiny, shoulder-length brown hair and green eyes. She was just a bit of a drama queen.

Lane, on the other hand, was most likely the least normal out of everyone in the room. She had long straight white-blond hair, blue eyes, a fondness for cur-sing, and a pet duck named Fluffy. She thought she could talk to animals. You know, like Dr. Doolittle. Yes, I do know who Dr. Doolittle is.

Anyway, we were all glaring at Angelina, who was gazing, transfixed, at a spot on the ground by her bed.

"What did you scream for?" demanded Alicia.

"I-I think I..."

"WHAT?!"

"I think I found the...the..."

"The WHAT?!"

"The...the One Ring!"

We stared at her. Then I slowly began to grin, and soon I was literally rolling on the floor laughing. "You... you think you...found...HA HA HA!"

Angelina gave me a very odd look, a mixture of a glare and a confused stare. "You know what the One Ring is?"

"Sometimes we tag along with Percy to the library. Anyway, you actually think that the One Ring is going to be lying by your bed?"

"Come look at it!" she implored. I obliged.

"Angelina, that bears no resemblance to the One Ring."

"Yes it does!"

"Um, the One Ring was gold. That's blue plastic."

"Blue plastic?" called Lane suddenly from her bed. "Oh, that's mine."

"Why's it by Angelina's bed then?" asked Alicia.

"I just left it there from when I was looking under all the beds for Fluffy. She had escaped." *cricket noises*

"Okay, glad we cleared that up. Angelina, give the ring back to Lane."

"But it rules them all!"

"Okay then. Let's pretend that Lane's bag is Mount Doom. You can be Frodo. I'll be Sam."

"Oh, shut up."

Why did I include this exchange, you ask? Well, I just wanted to tell you about the kind of stuff that I do all the time. I pretended to be a singing and dancing cat. I convinced my roommates that they aren't, in fact, in Lord of the Rings.

In short, my life was nuts.

And it was about to get even more.

We walked, yet again, onto the stage in the Great Hall. The actors and actresses, instead of being in a scrum in the center, were milling around with scripts.

At the front of the stage was a man with brownish-red hair that was more brownish than red. He was pretty average-looking.

He turned when he saw us. "Oh, hello," he said. "I'm Barry Straw, I'm your director. And you are?"

"Oh, I think you know me," I told him. "I'm Johanna Potter, this is my friend Fred Weasley."

"Oh, Miss Potter, delighted to make your acquaintance!" he said taking my right hand in both of his and shaking vigorously.

We finally got our scripts and began to practice, as the others were doing. The stage was full of snatches of different songs.

"'Memory, all alone in the moonlight, I can—"

"'In the hall of St. James's, the smartest of names is the name of this—"

"'If you put me in a house, I would much prefer—"

We looked around in curiosity, then we looked at each other and started to sing. Our song went a little like this—

Fred: Mungojerrie—

Me: —and Rumpleteazer—

Both: We're a notorious couple o' cats

Me: As knockabout clowns

Quick-change comedians

Tightrope walkers

And acrobats!

Fred: We have an extensive reputation

We make our home in Victoria Grove

This is merely our center of operation

Both: For we are incurably given to rove!

When the family assembles for Sunday dinner—

Me: —their minds made up that they won't get thinner—

Fred: —on Argentine joint—

Me —potatoes and greens

Then the cook would appear from behind the scenes

Fred: And say in a voice that is broken with sorrow

I'm afraid you must wait and have dinner tomorrow

The joint has gone from the oven like that

Both: Then the family'll say, it's that horrible cat!

Fred: It was Mungojerrie—

Me: —or Rumpleteazer—

Both: —and most of the time, they leave it at that!

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer

Have a wonderful way of working together

And some of the time you would say it was luck

And some of the time you would say it was weather

We go through the house like a hurricane

And no sober person could take his oath

Fred: Was it Mungojerrie—

Me: —or Rumpleteazer—

Both: —or could you have sworn that it might've been both

And when you hear a dining room smash

Or up from the pantry there comes a loud crash

Or down from the library came a loud ping

From a vase which was commonly said to be Ming

Then the family'll say, now which was which cat?

Fred: It was...Mungojerrie!

Me (indignantly): And! Rumpleteazer!

Both: And there's nothing at all to be done about that!

We looked at each other and burst out laughing. "Charli was right!" whooped Fred. "We are brilliant!"

"Totally!" I agreed. "They're gonna love us!"

We started the rehearsal. We just practiced the first song, "Jellicle Songs for Jellicle Cats." As I said before, it was catchy but said "jellicle" way too many times.

Here's how this little ditty went:

Some grey boy cat called Munkustrap: Are you blind when you're born?

Girl cat called Demeter: Can you see in the dark?

Boy cat called Skimbleshanks: Can you look at a king?

Boy cat called Asparagus: Would you sit on his throne?

Boy cat called Rum Tum Tugger: Can you say of your bite that it's worse than your bark?

Boy cat called Alonzo: Are you cock of the walk—

Girl cat called Jennyanydots: When you're walking alone?

All: Because jellicles are

And jellicles do

Jellicles do and jellicles would

Jellicles would and jellicles can

Jellicles can and jellicles do.

Girl cat called Jellylorum: When you fall on your head, do you land on your feet?

Boy cat called Coricopat: Are you tense when you sense there's a storm in the air?

Maggie (Jemima): Can you find your way blind when you're lost in the street?

Old Deuteronomy: Do you know how to go to the Heaviside Layer?

All: Because jellicles can and jellicles do

Jellicles do and jellicles can

Jellicles can and jellicles do

Jellicles do and jellicles can

Jellicles can and jellicles do!

Girl cat called Tantomile: Can you ride on a broomstick to places far distant (a bunch of us stuffed our fists in our mouths to keep from laughing)?

A bunch of girl cats: Familiar with candle—

Girl cat called Electra: —with book and with bell?

Lilah (Bombalurina): Were you Whittington's friend?

Benny (Misto): The Pied Piper's assistant?

Boy cat called Tumblebrutus: Have you been an alumnus of heaven and hell?

(HERE'S OUR LINE!)

Fred: Are you mean like a minx?

MEEEEEEEEE: Are you lean like a lynx?

Girl cat called Etcetera: Are you keen to be seen when you're smelling a rat?

Bella (Cassandra): Where you there when the pharoahs commissioned the sphinx?

All: If you were and you are, you're a jellicle cat!

Jellicle songs for jellicle cats

Me: Why do we have to sing this part over and over (I actually sang that part)?

Director: BECAUSE IT'S IN THE SCRIPT!

That was all of that song that we did for that day. We just practiced Bustopher Jones, which was that really dumb song that came before our song. We didn't even bother to sing along.

When it was finally over, we trudged back to Gryffindor Tower without really wanting to come back down ever again.

Needless to say, we weren't thinking of Quidditch.

We remembered in the morning. It felt like millions of years until we were running down the sunny green grounds to the pitch, broomsticks slung over our shoulders and wearing scarlet robes. We had waited for this moment all of our lives, you realize. That's why we ran so fast, each trying to get there first. Angelina ended up getting there first. She was closely followed by me, then Alicia, then George. Fred came last, so we laughed at him.

We took our places in the line. Alicia, Angelina, and I were trying out for Chasers, and the twins were trying out for Beaters.

We got a strong sense of deja vu when our names got called. We had to, of course, try to shoot the Quaffle past Ollie (I called Wood that in my head). Angelina and I succeeded easily. Alicia was amazingly good, but somehow not good enough. We just watched from the stands after Angelina and I got picked ("Sorry, Alicia." "Oh, that's okay. I sorta knew I wasn't gonna make it."). We crossed our fingers when the Beater tryouts were held. One kid named John Winsome nearly hit Angelina in the face with a Bludger. Alicia and I tried to run out of the stands and beat him up, but Angie stopped us.

Finally, Fred and George were announced as members of the team! Of course, we celebrated in the best way we knew how: screaming our hyper heads off and jumping around like squirrels on sugar highs.

After that, we stayed and watched the rest of the tryouts. We watched the rejects more than the players. As we watched, we saw Lilah Mitchells flash a wicked grin at her cronies, Mallory Edgecombe and Stacy Holimer, and flounce out of the stands and over to where one of the Beater rejects (a sixth year whose name I don't remember) sat, and whisper something in his ear. He blushed; she giggled and took his hand, pulling him off the pitch and towards the castle. We rolled our eyes at each other. We surmised that they would find a suitable broom closet in a few moments.

Of course we celebrated when we got back to the castle. We swiped some food from the kitchens and brought it back to the common room like we did every time we were somehow victorious. Angelina looked like a chipmunk with her face stuffed with cream puffs. The twins got high on chocolate eclairs and started laughing like maniacs. I somehow got a bottle of butterbeer overturned on my head (I kind of went berserk after that, grabbing a bunch of butterbeer and spraying it everywhere). Lane inexplicably started doing the cha-cha slide. To this day, Alicia calls herself our "designated driver."

Parties are awesometastic.

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