Harry Potter: the Musical? by kaammini_the_kreacher
Chapter Notes: I'm so sorry I took so long on this chapter. I will do better next time. Thanks so much to my Beta, JaneA, and my sister for helping me out. Also, thanks so much to all of you reviewers, they are all very appreciated. Of course, I hope you enjoy it and please review...feel free to give your ideas or constructive critism. Thanks for reading :)
Disclaimer: All you recognise probably belongs to JK Rowling....what an author!
It was dark. Pitch black, in fact. Moments of silence passed, and then a light came on. Visible was a young lady with bushy brown hair along with two friends - a teenage boy with black unkempt hair and a young man with cheeks as red as beetroot.
“Oh, Harry! Be careful, would you? It’s so dangerous down there!” The concerned voice of Hermione Granger said with tears streaming down her face. She looked pale and worried.
“Uh, yeah Harry. Don’t die, okay?” said Ron, completely distracted by Fleur in the garden.
“CUT! Ron, that’s not your line. You’re supposed to say ‘We’ll come with you, Harry,’ not something that seems like we really couldn’t give a Hippogriff’s uncle.” Hermione seemed fed-up and this was not the first time that day that she had lost her temper.
Ever since their feud from the previous night, Ron and Hermione had been at each other like a cat and dog. At any given moment, a fighting match would suddenly break out between the two and Harry would end up being the one to get hurt.
“Look, let’s just take a break, okay?” Harry declared. “There’s no point in us practicing for this anyways considering our other cast members are either locked up in their room, sleeping or snogging Professor Lupin.” Harry shuddered at his last statement.
“Ginny’s doing what?!” Ron spat out, in complete shock at the thought of his sister and ex-Professor. While in the process he accidentally whacked Harry’s glasses off his head, causing Harry to fall over on to the sofa, where, unfortunately, Crookshanks was taking a nap. Crookshanks jumped onto Harry and they got into a “cat fight” with neither Ron nor Hermione realizing.
“No, you idiot. He’s kissing Tonks,” Hermione replied as Ron let out a huge sigh of relief. “Ginny’s sleeping. Reparo!” Harry’s glasses were instantly fixed.
The group decided to take yet another break and made their way to the garden. Fleur walked past them on their way and Hermione looked peeved for a moment when both Ron and Harry stared.
Before arriving at the garden Ron stopped off at the kitchen and picked up a few sweets for them. He was very hungry….come to think of it, he was always very hungry. Handing Harry a green one, Hermione a pink one and keeping the blue one for himself, they continued their walk.
Compared to the living-room which had all the curtains shut and lights off, the garden was a nice change. The usual wet summers in England had been taken over by sunny spells. Perfect for Bill and Fleur’s wedding, Mrs. Weasley had said. Harry, Ron and Hermione were all silent until, oddly enough, Ron began to hum.
“Um, Ron?” questioned Hermione with concern. This was very out of character.
“Hmm?” Ron turned towards her, still humming. It seemed apparent that he was unable to stop. The melody was unrecognizable but extremely catchy. All of a sudden, Hermione began to whistle the same tune. Something was surely not right.
Harry, the boy who lived the killing curse, had a lightening bolt scar on his head and was known to everyone in the Wizarding world, for once seemed like the normal one in the situation. He looked perplexed and could not quite place what was going on. In the background though, he could now make out the voices of Fred and George approaching. He turned back and found them each with a satisfied grin on their faces, watching Ron and Hermione making fools of themselves.
“You must be wondering, Harry, why you aren’t sharing some sort of musical gift with us,” Fred said eying Harry’s mouth very closely. Harry gave him a suspicious glare but chose not to mention it.
“Actually, I was wondering why Ron and Hermione were doing… that,” Harry proclaimed as he pointed towards them. At this point Hermione was whistling so hard that she had turned bright red. Ron, on the other hand, was getting really into the humming and seemed to be dancing.
“Well, I wouldn’t worry too much Harry. Your moment shall come along very soon-” George was cut midway from his sentence because, sure enough, Harry began to sing... opera-style.
“And I thought the Weird Sister’s were weird!” Fred exclaimed while George rolled about on the floor with laughter.
“Wotcher Fred, George, Har-” Tonks, today with Forest Green hair, looked at everyone in utter awe. She stared from the gang to Fred and George and was at a complete loss for words. Fred and George continued to cackle.
“I do believe that our sweets were a success,” George announced proudly. Tonks suddenly turned bright red and made a very guilty face.
“Did you say those sweets? As in the ones left in the kitchen?” asked Tonks with a very shaky voice.
“Yeah, good idea weren’t they? We have seven of ‘em, all doing different yet spectacular things. Those three had one each. I assume Harry had the green one, he’s not bad at this Opera business is he? And our future sister-in-law, Hermione, had the pink. Not forgetting our dear little Ronniekins of course - he had the blue.” Fred took a second to listen to the tuneless sound around them which could only really be classified as noise.
“There are three left. This purple one over here makes you whine like a violin. The orange one makes you do a bit of jazz with Celestina Warbeck’s ‘A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love’. Mmm, tangy. The chocolate looking one makes you sing the Hogwarts School Song.” At this point George began to sing lines like Hoggy Warty Hogwarts.
“And my personal favourite, this bitter black one right….IT’S GONE! George it’s gone. Where is it George?” Fred was practically hyperventilating while he and George were searching frantically for this sweet.
“Um, I think I might know where it is,” Tonks confessed. Fred and George looked at her incredulously.
“You…you might know. Oh, all is not lost. George, she knows. Where is it, Tonks? Where is my baby?” questioned Fred melodramatically. George raised an eye brow and shot Tonks a pleading look.
Tonks sighed, “Remus! I think you’d better come here…”