Written for the Camp Hogwarts challenge, Cabin Longbottom.
Task: Singing - Write about being a member of the toad choir (100 points)
February 1974
"What's with you?" Dorcas asked, sitting down next to Lisa at their usual desk right before History of Magic. "You look like someone died. Oh no. Did someone die?"
"Only my dignity," Lisa grumbled, pushing a piece of parchment towards her friend. Dorcas took it and her eyes skimmed its contents. A smirk tugged at the right corner of her mouth and she gave Lisa a questioning look.
"Your mum calls you Lisbug? That is pretty embarrassing, but I think your dignity will live."
"Not that," Lisa groaned. "She wants me to join a club."
"A club? Aren't you already in the Slug Club?"
"Slughorn ran into my dad in Diagon Alley last week, and now she knows I avoid that like the plague. She can't monitor how often I go to those 'parties', so I have to join a real club and 'get to know my peers'. Merlin, kill me now."
"What's the big deal? It wouldn't hurt you to mingle with people a little more."
Lisa threw Dorcas a venomous glare. "You know I hate forced socializing. I get enough of that at home."
"No one said it had to be forced," Dorcas reasoned. "It's just a chance to meet new people."
"I know enough people!" Lisa exploded. "What she wants me to do is make connections, and we both know it! I don't care about wizarding society, and I refuse to make 'friends' just so they could possibly serve some purpose in the future! Collecting acquaintances like stamps, as if there's some sort of trophy for knowing the most people!"
"You're overreacting. It's just a club."
"I don't care! It's hypocritical and pretentious, and I don't want to do it!"
"So then don't. Your mother can't force your hand."
"Read the fourth paragraph," Lisa growled, her hand clutching at the quill she was holding so hard it broke in half. Dorcas turned her eyes back to the letter.
"If you continue to be so stubborn, your father and I will cancel the trip this summer," she read aloud and looked back at her friend curiously. "What trip is that?"
"It's the World Cup!" Lisa exclaimed angrily. "They're blackmailing me! If I don't join a stupid student club, they won't take me to the Finals!"
Dorcas had to hold back a chuckle. The appeal of Quidditch was never very clear to her, but she knew Lisa was passionate about it for some reason.
"Woe is you. I guess you have no choice then," she said, barely containing her snickering.
"You guess right," Lisa mumbled dejectedly. "The only way I'll get to see the Cup is if I compromise my own principles."
"Again, you're overreacting. It's not like they're making you terrorize muggles. All you have to do is attend a meeting every now and then. It could be worse."
"Every now and then for almost half a year," Lisa said through gritted teeth. "Four bloody months of pretending to enjoy something I don't, and talking to people I have no interest in knowing."
"So join something you like. That way at least you'll be having fun."
"If there was a club I liked, I'd be a member by now."
"Come on, there has to be something." Dorcas took out a quill and wrote down the names of all the school clubs she could think of, then began reading them one by one.
"Potions Club."
"Nah, I don't really care about potions."
"Astronomy Club."
"They meet late at night. I'm not sure I want to be sleep deprived until the end of the year."
"Art Club."
"You know I can't draw."
"Rat Race Club."
"I don't have a rat."
"Knitting Club."
"Not on your life."
"Muggle Club."
"That disbanded a few years back."
"Gobstone Club." Lisa gave her a weird are-you-insane sort of look. "Okay, so not that one. Dueling Club?"
"Ugh, no way, I cannot stomach that Ravenclaw, McLaggen. If I have to hear about his Aspen wand one more time, I'm gonna—"
"How about the Frog Choir, then?"
"I can't sing."
"Yes, you can. I've heard you hum."
"Humming and singing are not the same thing."
"It's enough to get you into the Choir. All you have to be able to do is carry a tune. That shouldn't be too hard."
"Cass, I'm not joining the Frog Choir."
"Why not?"
That was when Professor Binns slid through the blackboard and began his long monotone speech on the Goblin Wars. Dorcas tore off a piece of parchment, wrote something on it and slid it over to Lisa.
What's wrong with the Frog Choir?
Lisa hesitated, but took out her spare quill and scribbled below,
The Choir is for dorks.
Dorcas read the words and frowned.
Says who?
Says everyone.
And since when did 'everyone' become so important?
Lisa's face turned red. She didn't write anything, so Dorcas drew the parchment to her again and jotted down:
If we listened to 'everyone', we wouldn't be friends.
Forehead creasing in a deep frown, Lisa stared at the words. For a long while she just looked at the parchment before inking her quill again.
Frog Choir it is. We'll sign up after class.
Dorcas raised an eyebrow amusedly.
We?
Yes, we. You're a much better singer than I am, and that way I'll at least manage to have a little bit of fun. Unless you care what everyone thinks?
Dorcas smirked.
After class then.
April 1974
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Fillet of a fenny snake,
In the caldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting,
Lizard's leg and howlet's wing,
For a charm of powerful trouble,
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn and caldron bubble.
Cool it with a baboon's blood,
Then the charm is firm and good.
"Very good!" Professor Flitwick said enthusiastically as the song finished. "We've been making steady progress with the set list, I feel like you are prepared for the End-of-Term concert in—" A girl in the front row raised her hand. "Yes, what is it, Miss Brooke?"
"Excuse me, Professor, but can I please be moved?" said Isabelle Brooke, a Ravenclaw girl sitting on Lisa's right side. "Someone is singing so loud and off-key, she's bringing down the entire alto section!"
Every single one of the alto girls' eyes darted to Lisa, before looking away quickly. The Gryffindor's face turned the color of her tie and she looked down, wishing she could sink into the ground.
"I think the person in question just needs to lower the volume of their voice," Flitwick said gently. "And the rest of you should not be distracted so easily. The Great Hall won't be silent during the performance, so you should strive to be able to keep up the melody despite external factors. Now, let us discuss the solos. For 'Bottom of the River', we have Dorcas, and Dahlia for 'The Hanging Tree'. Please see me after rehearsal to—"
Suddenly, the door to the Music Room swung open and a breathless Ravenclaw boy came running in.
"Professor! Professor! Connie Watts fainted in Transfiguration! They took her to the Hospital Wing, Professor McGonagall sent me to get you!"
"Oh my," Flitwick said, quickly climbing down from the conductor's podium. "Take a break everyone! I'll be back shortly."
As soon as he left the room, the students began chattering and some stood up to stretch their legs. Lisa staid in her seat, eyes glued to the floor. I won't quit. I won't quit, she kept telling herself. If she ever wanted to see the World Cup, she just had to stick it out. When Lisa felt someone sit down in Isabelle's vacated chair, she didn't even need to look up to know who it was.
"Don't let them get to you," Dorcas said. "You're just starting out. Brooks is a bitch for pointing it out in front of everybody like that."
"She's right though," Lisa muttered under her breath. "I shouldn't be here. I'm just bringing everyone else down."
"No, you aren't! Flitwick was right; they shouldn't be led astray like sheep! You don't let the others' voices influence you."
"But if I did, we'd all sound a hell of a lot better. Congratulations on your solo, by the way." Lisa finally looked up and gave her friend a small smile. Dorcas beamed back at her, and the smile became more genuine. When they signed up for the Choir, Lisa was stunned to find out how good Dorcas was. Her voice had a lot of power and personality, and she seemed to really enjoy this club. Unlike Lisa.
Dorcas opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by loud, giggling voices from the alto girls, huddled close together nearby.
"The reason she's even able to influence any of us is because the lyrics are ridiculous!" Isabelle was saying. "She's memorized the entire thing, but we constantly have to think about which line comes next. I mean, that potion they're making, who uses just a toe of the frog leg? And everyone knows the baboon blood would react badly with the eye of newt, the potion would explode! And what does Adder's fork mean, anyway?"
"It means the tongue of an Adder snake," Lisa murmured automatically before she could stop herself. The girls stopped talking and turned around.
"Did you say something? Speak up, I can't hear you for once," Isabelle said, sending the girls into another fit of giggles. Lisa just wanted to sink into the ground. She didn't belong here. Why was she standing out so much?
"She said that you lot have no culture," Dorcas called beside her, and Lisa's whole body stiffened with dread. "Everyone knows this potion isn't real; it was written by a muggle poet. And Adder's fork refers to the forked tongue of an Adder snake. How daft do you have to be not to know that?" the Slytherin added haughtily, which almost made Lisa chuckle. She had to explain all of this to her only two days ago.
"Let it go, Cass," Lisa said instead.
"Why should I?" Dorcas hissed in her ear, when Isabelle only rolled her eyes and the alto girls resumed their conversation. "You shouldn't let them walk all over you like that!"
"I know, but I'm trying to remain in the bloody Choir!" Lisa whispered back. "They're not doing it out of spite, everyone here knows I suck! I'm just trying to get through this as painlessly as possible, and making enemies won't help anything!"
Dorcas sighed, but reclined back in the chair. They spent the next ten minutes talking about more pleasant things, and she even subjected herself to a bit of Quidditch talk in an attempt to lift Lisa's spirits and help her stomach Isabelle. When Flitwick returned, however, she had to go back to the soprano section and leave her friend to cope as best she could.
After the Choir sang two more songs that were on the set list for the concert, Flitwick called Dorcas and Dahlia to his podium to give them the sheet music and discus their solos. The rest of the students buzzed with muffled chatter, and what Lisa feared most happened – Isabelle opened her mouth.
"I really don't see why he picked her for 'Bottom of the River'. She clearly does not have the pipes to pull it off, she'll make us all look like idiots." Relax, Lisa told herself. Don't get angry. You need this Choir. Just don't explode. Don't explode. "And she's a complete newcomer! This should have been given to someone more experienced! This is clearly a case of favoritism; why else would a barely adequate singer like her get a solo two months after joining? I bet you she's doing something for Flitwick on the side... On her knees."
Before Lisa even realized what she was doing, she sprang to her feet and her wand was in her hand. Next thing she knew, Isabelle was shrieking, her curly brown hair enveloped by dancing yellow flames.
~O~
"I'm so dead," Lisa moaned despairingly in her knees.
She and Dorcas were sitting on one of the many staircases between the fifth and the sixth floor, as Lisa sulked over her spectacular failure to control herself.
"Whatever she told you, I'm sure she had it coming," Dorcas tried to comfort her. "And you only lost 50 points; Potter and Black lose triple that every week. It's not that bad."
"First of all, my parents will kill me when they hear of this. And second, I really needed to stay in that Choir. I'm never going to the Cup now."
"There's always the Knitting Club," Dorcas quipped. Lisa only moaned again.
Just then, James Potter came up the stairs, heading back to the Gryffindor common room after another detention.
"Hey Fawley. What's with you?"
"Go away, James," Lisa muttered, face still buried in her knees. James threw a questioning look at Dorcas.
"She set a girl on fire and got kicked out of the Frog Choir," the Slytherin explained.
James erupted in laughter. "Nice. What did she set her on fire for?"
"Does it matter?" Lisa chimed in. "It's done. My life is over."
James raised an eyebrow. "Didn't realize you had your heart set on singing. Especially since your Christmas caroling makes me want to take a Severing Charm to my ears."
"You don't get it, James. My parents told me that if I don't join a club, they wouldn't take me to the World Cup! I'll never get to see the Finals now!" Lisa explained miserably.
"Hm, we can't have that, I've already bet on Syria against you." He paused and turned his eyes to the ceiling thoughtfully. "Why don't you join the Gryffindor Quidditch team? You're a decent flyer."
Lisa's head shot up and she stared at him blankly.
"What?"
"Buckley told Malcolm the other day that N.E.W.T.s were more important than Quidditch, so we need a third Chaser for the final game against Ravenclaw in two weeks, badly. You'd be helping us out, and it will solve your World Cup issue. Think about it."
James flashed the girls a grin and continued up the stairs, while Lisa just stared after him as if he had just told her she'd been made the Minister for Magic.