A/N: At last, the long anticipated event of the year has arrived! I was originally going to save this for a later chappie, but I couldn’t think of any filler. So I decided to push the plot up a bit and hold the BATTLE OF THE BANDS this chappie instead. I know you’ll be saddened by this news. *Hearty wink*
This chapter is sponsored by Dr Pepper (what else), madcap reviews, the crapload of CDs I need to listen to, and Twizzlers.
It was Friday night in the common room, and there was a low buzz of excitement in the air, which was caused by someone eating batteries. He sneezed lightning bolts after that.
Anyway, the trio was sitting in their customary chairs, fine tuning the song set they’d made up for the Battle of the Bands the next night.
“Are we sure we want to do ‘Angst and Chocolate Milk’ for this?” asked Hermione of one song. “It’s kind of short and frankly pretty stupid.”
“We’ve gotta keep that one!” said Ron. “How depressing would it be if milk and chocolate broke up? No more chocolate milk! Think about that, Hermione.”
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, we’ll keep it. But I’m concerned that we’ll run over our allotted time if we perform all these songs. Especially with Harry’s tendency to break into twenty minute drum solos…”
“I’m just giving the public what they want,” Harry replied.
“We can’t have extended solos of anything if we’re to do this whole set in time!”
“Psh, they’ll let us. Remember, I’m Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. And now Rock God.”
“Harry, we haven’t even preformed yet. How can you be a rock god when no one’s heard us play?”
“Weren’t you listening? I’m Harry Potter! Besides, I’ve now got a fauxhawk.”
“A what?”
“A fauxhawk. It’s where you comb your hair into a mohawk shape, so there’s no shaving the sides of your head involved. It’s a punk look, you wouldn’t understand.”
“Right…And what happened to your glasses?”
“Rock Gods don’t wear glasses! Name one band with a frontman who wears glasses.”
“Weezer,” said Ron and Hermione at the same time.
“Besides, you’re not the frontman, you’re the drummer,” Hermione said.
“Who says the drummer can’t be the frontman? I’m Harry Potter!”
Hermione rolled her eyes again. “Fine, you can be the frontman. But put your glasses back on; what if you fall off the stage?”
“My fans will catch me,” Harry answered.
“Harry, do you know how incredibly arrogant you sound?”
“Yes, yes I do.”
“Glad we cleared that up,” Hermione muttered, turning back to the set list.
The next day in the Great Hall, the scene was chaos. Last minutes checks on lighting and sound were being done before the Battle of the Bands officially started. Up in the sound booth sat Snape. After his stint deejaying for the school dance in the previous story, he was put in charge of the sound systems.
Snape was very bored with this job, as the sound systems were all fine, but he had to stay put for no apparent reason. He was yawning widely when there was a knock at the sound room door. He got up, stalked to the door, and threw it open.
“This had better be important,” he said. Then he realized that he was talking to empty air; no one was at the door. He looked left and right down the hall. No one was there either. He was about to shut the door when he heard a “Pst! Snape!” from his right. He looked that way, but there was still no one there. He pulled out his wand and followed the sound. He was almost at the end of the hall when the lights flickered out.
“I think I’ve seen this music video,” he said to the darkness. “If a door opens and I’m in China and dressed like a ninja, so help me….”
“Quit complaining, you,” said a voice.
“Oh, it’s you, Bellatrix. What did I do to deserve this?”
“We don’t have a bassist.”
“Because you shoved him in the lake.”
“Oh yes. Ghastly business that. No, that’s not the right word. I actually think ‘hilarious’ would be more applicable.”
“You never cease to irresistibly remind me of a black widow. No pun intended.”
“How flattering. Are you going to help us or not?”
“Can’t you just get Rastaban or whatever his name was to play bass for you?”
“No, he’s the drummer. And don’t even mention anyone else, you’re the only other Death Eater with any musical talent.”
“Now it’s my turn to be flattered. Did the Dark Lord put you up to this? Because I can’t honestly see you breaking into Hogwarts just to play a few songs.”
“Well, he did send me to find you, but a battle of the bands! Complete with a chance to traumatize the kiddies. That’s too good to pass up.”
“Uh, why can’t he just use the Dark Mark? I thought that’s what it was there for.”
“He’s a busy evil genius, you know! Besides, he’s in the middle of a crisis, that’s why he needs to see you, but he’s too distracted to use the Mark. I think, actually, that he sent me to fetch you in order to torture us both.”
“Well, it’s working.”
“Yes, quite. ANYWAY! You. Bass. Next to last act. Be there or suffer.”
“I’m already suffering. Ow!” Snape got whacked upside the head with a piece of rolled up newspaper. Then the lights flickered back on, and he was alone in the hall.
“I think I’d rather have wound up in China,” he muttered.
Later that evening, the Battle of the Bands had started and was going very well, or as well as can be expected for something in this story. Currently, the Llama Losers were backstage, getting ready for their act.
“For heaven’s sake, Ron, you are NOT painting one of those emo tear drop things on your face!” Hermione was saying.
“But they’re so cool! And band-ish!” Ron argued.
“No! NO weird face painting. Harry, why on earth are you wearing eyeliner?!”
“I wondered why he looked like Brandon Flowers before the moustache….”
“It’s a rock thing. You wouldn’t understand,” Harry said.
“I’m in a rock band now, Harry, I think I might get ‘rock things,’” Hermione replied testily. “No eyeliner, you look weird.”
“You get to wear eyeliner.”
“I’m a girl, I’m allowed.”
“Besides, I’m Harry Potter!”
“Yes, we know.”
“Then you should know you can’t make me do anything. Just stop being so bossy and go check when we’re up.”
Hermione threw Harry a very dirty look, and stalked out of the dressing room.
“Hey, go easy on Hermione,” said Ron. “She is the smart one, after all.”
“So? I’m Harry Potter!”
“We know!”
Just then, Hermione came back in, looking anxious. “We’re on next! One band couldn’t make it; Those Who Were Previously In Power had to drop out because their lead singer disappeared.”
“Isn’t that Neville?” Harry asked. “I wonder where he went…”
“Never mind that now, we’re up next, and we’re following Zoo Police! They had a hippo on stage! We need to be good, guys!”
“Don’t worry, I’m Harry Potter!” And Harry swaggered out towards the stage.
The other two rolled their eyes and followed. They were backstage, watching the aforementioned hippo being herded past, when they heard the announcer introduce them.
“Here they are, with their famous frontman, Harry Potter! Give it up for the Llama Losers!”
The trio walked out onstage to a screaming crowd of obsessed fangirls and such.
“Hello, Hogwarts!” said Harry, grabbing a microphone. “Are you ready to rock?!”
“One second!” called a guy from the front row. He sneezed a small lighting bolt. “OK, we’re good!”
“Er, yes, good to know. Anyway…” Harry took up his position at the drumset and started a beat. Ron and Hermione came in with their respective parts, and the band began to sing:
“No-one knows how hard teen love is, that systems all wrong, we just want something that sounds good. Love's mucked up, it's squeaky, it has all gone wrong. All these bands think they can sing, it's deafening! Bet they can't get dates, 'cause we can't!”
The crowd went wild for no apparent reason.
The Llama Losers performed all their songs, even making room for “Angst and Chocolate Milk,” despite Harry breaking into one of his infamous twenty minute drum solos, and Ron suddenly at the end singing, “Oh, Switzerland, how I dream of thee...! Where the sun doth shine, and the chocolate is free...!”
“Thank you, Hogwarts!” Harry yelled to the crowd as they were ushered off-stage. “I’ll be here all school year! Barring a Voldy attack!”
As they left, the next band, the Banshees, took the stage. The trio, er, Llama Losers watched curiously from off-stage.
“Their bassist looks really familiar…” Hermione said.
“Their lead singer looks really familiar…” Harry said.
“Is that a Dark Mark patch on the drummer’s cap?” Ron said.
As the Banshees began to play, the trio’s jaws dropped. And not just because of the traumatizing songs (“Killing Curse in the Morning” and “Defy the Dark Lord and Die” among them).
“Holy crap, that’s Snape with his fake beard!” Hermione exclaimed.
“Holy crap, that’s Bellatrix!” Harry exclaimed.
Ron stayed silent. The other two looked at him. “Oh, um…why, that’s old What’s-His-Face!” Harry and Hermione facepalmed.
“Well, anyway, we should tell Dumbledore!” Hermione said.
“We can’t, he’s up next!” said Harry.
“WHAT?”
“See for yourself!” He pointed to the stage, where the silver hair and beard of the headmaster gleamed in the lights.
“Hello, we are Dumbledore and the Time-Back Turners!” said Dumbledore amicably to the crowd. “I certainly hope you’ve enjoyed the evening, and certainly hope you’ll enjoy our music. After we perform, the winner of the Battle of the Bands will be announced, so please stick around!”
“Is that the barman from the Hog’s Head in the back?” Hermione asked.
“Is that Snape without his fake beard playing bass again?” Harry asked.
“This night cannot get any weirder,” said Ron.
Ron was sure of this stance until the end of the last song, called “Pickles,” where Dumbledore said, “Do the Funky Llama dance!” and started breakdancing. Then he jumped to his feet, said, “Respect your llamas, man!” and ended on an arm-folded rap pose. Then the llama wandered on stage and ate Dumbledore’s multi-colored woolen toe socks.
“I stand corrected,” said Ron.
The announcer then came on stage with an envelope in hand. “Attention! I have here the winner of the Battle of the Bands!”
The crowd again went wild for no apparent reason.
“Will everyone please lean forward expectantly!”
All the bands and the audience did so; the atmosphere was tense. Then someone gave the atmosphere a shoulder rub and it was fine. But the crowd was still tense.
“And the winner is…” The announcer ripped open the envelope and pulled out the little card inside. “Uh, actually, winners are….The Llama Losers, because it’s Harry Potter; the Banshees, because they threatened the judges; and Dumbledore and the Time-Back Turners because they were actually the most talented band and Dumbledore does a mean breakdance.”
Everyone looked very confused. The announcer grinned uneasily, and said, “Sooo…..there’s your winners! Congratulations, and thanks to all bands that participated!” He then ran before the crowd with torches and pitchforks could overtake the stage.
“I stand corrected again,” Ron said.
“Ron, rule number one: it can always get more bizarre. This is Hogwarts, after all,” said Harry.
They were sitting in their customary armchairs in the common room as an after-party took place around them. A snack table had been set up and people were drinking a lot of butterbeers.
“Well, this has been a very crazed, disjointed chapter, I mean, week,” Hermione commented. “I think I’m going to bed now guys. Goodnight!” She got up and headed up the spiral stairs that led to the girl’s dormitories.
“Good, she’s gone. Now we can party!” Ron ran to the snack table, ate several crab claws, drank even more butter beer, threw up, and passed out behind a couch, all in less than five minutes.
“Er, right,” said Harry. He headed over to the snack table. While he was there munching, a girl came up and squealed, “You’re Harry Potter! This is like, the most amazing thing EVAR! Can I have your autograph?!”
“Sure,” Harry replied. “Who am I making it out with, I mean, to?”
“HARRY!” Hermione yelled down from the stairs. “NO PICKING UP ON GROUPIES!”
A/N: Oh man, I’m gonna have to raise this story’s rating for that last bit alone. Quoth Bella: ANYWAY! There it is, chappie 5! Better late than never, no? Give me your opinions via reviews, spews, and news! And kudos to those who get my many and varied band references scattered throughout!