Author's Note:
This story had its genesis at the "C'mon Get Happy" message board,
when we were dicussing casting choices for future Harry Potter movies.
(Okay, so we were more than a little off-topic.) Anyway, one of the
actors picked fermented in my tormented brain during AP English, spawning
this story idea. Also, beware the fact that I have only read the
first 3 books, because I'm too cheap to shell out the bucks for a hardcover
book I will only read once. And hey, in this story Ron and Harry
are supposed to be about 15 or so, not sure what year that'd be (haven't
read any of the books in awhile). Anyway, they're old enough to know
what a hooker is (though it's just mentioned in conversation as a possible
synonym for something else).
Pukas are a type of seashell used to make necklaces that were made popular in the 1970's by David Cassidy, if you didn't know that. (Remember the white shell choker that Keith wore on the Partridge Family? Those were pukas.)
"Someone's girlfriend must have given it to him, a long time ago," Harry said. "It looks like it was petrifying back there since my parents came to Hogwarts."
"Must have been," Ron said. "I've never seen any of the girls wear anything like this, though my father has one like it stuck inside a trunk upstairs. I asked him about it, and he only said that they were popular when he was at Hogwarts. I think he might have worn it."
"Your FATHER wore a NECKLACE?" Harry asked, incredulous.
"I think it was the fashion at the time, for guys to wear necklaces like this," Ron said. "But some of the music that they listened to back when my parents were here was pretty good."
"I still can't picture your father wearing a shell necklace," Harry said.
"Why don't you try it on?" Ron asked, blowing the dust off of the necklace. "It might look good on you. And if it does, we'll know why Dad wore it."
"What the heck," Harry said. "Just promise me that you won't take any pictures, OK? I don't want Draco to get his hands on them, or he'll tell the whole school a tale of my feminine side."
Harry clasped the necklace about his throat, then fell to his knees.
"It doesn't look that bad, Harry!" Ron said. "C'mon, take a look in the mirror."
Harry moaned. The moment he'd put the necklace on, he'd gotten the most bizarre feeling. But it was passing quickly. Harry put it down to a bad treacle tart at dinnertime reacting on his intestines. He looked up in time to catch a discomfited look pass across Ron's face.
"Harry?" Ron asked. "Your eyes look sort of ... funny. Do you feel okay?"
"I think I ate something that didn't agree with me at dinner, that's all," Harry said. "Why do you say my eyes look funny? Am I just tired?" He looked in the mirror. Harry drew back. His eyes did indeed look odd. They appeared to be a gorgeous hazel, streaked green and brown. "Huh. Must be the light, that's all. I kind of like this necklace. I think it looks good."
"It's wierd, your eyes looking funny. I never noticed it before," Ron said. "Your hair looks wierd in this light, too. It looks brown. But the necklace does look good."
Harry shrugged. "Let's go to bed. I'll be okay in the morning. My stomach should be fine by then."
The next morning, Harry woke up with hair in his face. Brown hair. Harry sat up and looked in the mirror on the wall by the foot of his bed. Somehow, during the night his hair had remained the color that it had appeared in the dim firelight the night before. And it had grown. A lot. Harry's hair was now brushing his shoulders.
"Psst, Ron!" Harry said, poking Ron with the handle of his broomstick. "Ron, my hair changed color."
Ron sat up, groggy from sleep. "It grew too. How are you going to explain this?"
"I guess if anyone asks, I could say that my Charms homework went haywire." Harry sat up, digging a comb out of his trunk. "I've still got my scar, people will recognize me." He ran the comb through the thick, shaggy brown locks. "I kind of like it this way."
Ron snorted. "It looks like the shag cut that my father wore in 1974."
Harry turned. "So? I like this necklace too. Maybe the 70's are due for a revival at Hogwarts."
"Harry, there could be something genuinely wrong with you," Ron said. "I don't like that necklace. I'm sorry I ever convinced you to put it on. I think that the necklace is doing this to you."
"Well," Harry said. "I think I look good this way. The girls might like it."
Ron made a face.
Harry picked up his robes and got dressed for the day. As he headed down the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, he ran into Dean.
"Hey Keith, where are you off to in such a rush?" Dean said, jokingly.
"Keith?" Harry asked.
"Yah," Dean said. "You look like that guy from that old American TV show that they re-run on satellite TV all the time... you know, the Partridge Family. Keith Partridge."
"Oh," Harry said. He had an idea of who that was, since there had been a movie about the actor who had played Keith on the television. His Aunt Petunia had watched it, and told him to also, then he got a lecture about how good-for-nothing lazy bums like that David Cassidy always came to a bad end.
Harry hadn't seen anything too bad about him overcoming drug addiction and gaining a career as a stage actor. But then, Aunt Petunia's take on life was always different from Harry's.
Ron and Harry met Hermione for breakfast. Hermione gave Harry's fluffy shag a long look.
"What did you do to your hair?" Hermione asked.
"I made a mistake in my Charms homework," Harry said.
"Honestly, Harry!" Hermione said. "You were doing fine yesterday. You must have really muffed it, to do that to your hair and eyes. We were only trying to make a feather cycle through the colors of the rainbow."
"I distracted him," Ron said, feeling it his duty to stick up for his friend, even though he thought that Harry should go to see Madam Pomfrey.
"Well, the hair isn't actually that bad," Hermione said. "It's kind of cute. So fluffy. I'd love to be able to touch it."
Harry flushed, then remembered himself enough to stick out his tongue at Ron. "Told you that it was an improvement." he said.
Ron was confused. It was bad enough that Harry already got all the chicks. Now Harry had to get a new and improved hairstyle out of the blue that only attracted them more. This was not fair.
Later that day, during History of Magic, Harry took off his glasses to rub his eyes. For some reason, he'd been having a hard time seeing, and he wondered if the new hairstyle and the odd color that his eyes had taken on were only cosmetic symptoms of something much worse. He was considering going to Madam Pomfrey and asking her if she could do anything about this bizarre metamorphosis. Then he looked up and realized why his vision had become blurry.
He didn't need his glasses anymore. Harry could see perfectly well without them.
That evening, Ron stayed late in the library, talking to a Ravenclaw girl who had agreed to tutor him in Potions, seeing as how Ron was having terrible troubles with Snape's lessons. Though Hermione and Harry were both trying to help Ron, Ron just seemed to be getting worse and worse at Potions.
Ron walked into the Gryffindor common room and stopped dead in shock.
Harry was standing on a table. He'd found a guitar somewhere, and was playing it. Ron hadn't even known that Harry could play the guitar. To make matters worse, Harry had somewhere dug up an absolutely ridiculous outfit. He had taken off his regular black robes and traded them for a maroon velvet vest and white shirt. The girls of Gryffindor were gathered around the table, sighing in adoration.
And then Harry started to sing.
"I'm sleeping and right in the middle of a good dream
like all at once I wake up from something that keeps knocking at
my brain
Before I go insane I hold my pillow to my head
and spring up in my bed screaming out the words I dread
I think I love you!
This morning I woke up with this feeling
I didn't know how to deal with
and so I just decided to myself I'd hide it to myself
and never talk about it and didn't I go and shout it
when you walked into the room
I think I love you!
I think I love you so what am I so afraid of?
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of
a love there is no cure for.
I think I love you - isn't that what life is made of?
Though it worries me to say that I never felt this way."
Ron's jaw nearly hit the floor as Harry went into a musical segment on the guitar. Something terrible was happening to Harry, and Ron wasn't sure what to do about it. The old Harry, the quiet nerd who didn't deal well with adulation, was now basking in his stardom. Ron desperately tried to signal to Harry that he was making a fool of himself, but Harry never saw it. He merely continued his song.
"I don't know what I'm up against
I don't know what it's all about
I've got so much to think about
Hey....
I think I love you so what am I so afraid of?
I'm afraid that I'm not sure of
a love there is no cure for.
I think I love you - isn't that what life is made of?
Though it worries me to say that I never felt this way
Believe me, you really don't have to worry
I only wanna make you happy and if you say hey go away I will
But I think better still I'd better stay around and love you
Do you think I have a case? Let me ask you to your face
Do you think you love me?
I think I love you, I think I love you, I think I love you."
When Harry climbed down from the table, the girls mobbed him. Hermione planted a kiss on his cheek, and several other girls were reaching up to touch his long hair. Ron grabbed Harry by the arm and dragged him up the steps to their dormitory room.
"What do you think you're doing?" Ron snapped at Harry. "Have you gone crazy?"
Harry wrenched his arm out of Ron's hand. "What do you care?" he asked. "I came in from dinner, and I found the guitar and outfit on the trunk. I've had that song running in my head all day. When I picked up the guitar, I knew I could play the song and sing it. Dean told me that I should put on the outfit and play it down in the common room, so I did. And they loved it."
"Harry, I think that necklace I found under the bed was cursed," Ron said. "All of this started when you put it on. You aren't the Harry Potter I know anymore. I think you should take it off."
"This necklace is part of my 'look'," Harry said. "The girls love it. I think it's a good thing. The necklace makes you cool, the sort of guy that the girls go for."
"Look at yourself in the mirror, Harry," Ron said, worried. "Something has happened to you. You don't even look like Harry Potter anymore."
"So my eyes got a little darker and my hair got lighter," Harry said with a shrug, "Could happen to anyone, and it's not really that different. My eyes are still sort of green."
"Your face looks different," Ron said. "Your body looks different too. You're heavier, more muscular than you were yesterday."
"You're just jealous," Harry said. "I'm more famous than you, and the girls like me better than you, and you just can't take it anymore. That's what your problem is."
"Harry, you're in danger," Ron said. "I don't know where that necklace came from. For all you know, Voldemort could have put it there to destroy you."
"If this necklace was hurting me, I think I would know," Harry said. "Get out of my sight, Ron. If you don't want to support me and act like my friend, then don't pretend to be my friend. From now on, you aren't my best friend anymore."
"Fine," Ron said, folding his arms. "You aren't the Harry who was my friend anymore, anyway."
Harry picked up his guitar and headed back down to the common room. The moment the dormitory door opened, Ron heard the girls shriek for Harry. Ron fumed in wrath. Harry had treated him like Ron was less than human. He had refused to listen to any of Ron's arguements as to why he was in trouble.
Hermione ran up to Harry the moment that he came out of the dormitory. "Harry, would you sing another song for us?" she asked. The other girls behind Hermione yelled their agreement.
Harry climbed onto the same table as before and plugged the electric guitar into the amplifier. He tried to think about another one of the songs that had been buzzing about his head. A random thought escaped and roamed across his mind, reminding Harry that wizards liked music. There were witches and wizards who made their living as musicians, selling recordings of their music on sound crystals to other wizards.
Harry decided which song he wanted to sing as he fumbled in his pocket for a guitar pick. The girls had formed themselves into an attentive audience. It seemed that every female Gryffindor was packed into the common room to hear Harry Potter sing.
"Can't get her out of my mind, I see her face wherever I go
She didn't say it but I know she doesn't love me
I thought that I was king, she didn't want to play my game
If I had the sun to give her in the morning
She'd rather have the rain
than anything I could give her
I'd give her anything that you care to name
She'd rather have the rain
Today I had to realize that every dream just can't come true
I know there's nothing I can do to make her want me
I could take the sun from heaven, tie it to a silver chain
Bring it so it shines upon her through the morning
She'd rather have the rain
than anything I could give her
I'd give her anything that you care to name
She'd rather have the rain
When you need somebody, you want to give her everything
But it hurts when she doesn't hear the song that you sing
She'd rather have the rain
than anything I could give her
I'd give her anything that you care to name
She'd rather have the rain
She'd rather have the rain
than anything I could give her
I'd give her anything that you care to name
She'd rather have the rain
Rather have the rain, rather have the rain, rather have the rain."
Harry finished out the song and unplugged the guitar. The girls were sighing, looking at him, sighing, with glazed eyes. Harry yawned and climbed down from the table. It was starting to get late, and Harry didn't want to have to yawn his way through Potions in the morning.
The moment that Harry climbed down from the table, the girls mobbed him, grabbing at his hair. Harry mused that long hair provided an excellent handle for the girls as he shoved his way through the crowd and escaped into the boys dormitory. That thwarted the girls. They milled around in a frustrated crowd at the door, wondering how to get into the boys dormitory and corner their idol.
Harry sank onto the trunk at the foot of his bed, shaky with relief. He hadn't expected the girls to attack him like that. His head hurt from the girls grabbing his long hair, and he felt something drip down his face. Harry put a hand to his forehead and it came away sticky with blood. He looked up, at the mirror on the other wall, and saw that there was a small cut on his forehead where his skin had torn. Someone had actually grabbed his hair hard enough to rip his scalp.
Dean Thomas ran up. "Man, that was great!" he said. "The girls all loved it. Where did you learn to play the guitar and sing like that?"
Harry shrugged. "It sort of came to me. Remember how you found this costume when you had only had your back turned for a moment? I think it's some kind of good spell. I even think Sirius may have left this stuff for me."
"You're bleeding." Dean pulled out a handkerchief and began dabbing at the bloody mess on Harry's forehead. "Here, hold it on until the bleeding stops."
"Thanks. Those girls turned into raving maniacs when I got down off the table."
"What did they do to you?"
"Hermione grabbed my hair and pulled, and my skin ripped."
"Ow," Dean said. "That must really have hurt. Hey, you know, you could get every girl in the school to chase you, you know. You could play and sing tomorrow, at dinner."
Harry grinned. "Draco Malfoy has been buttering up practically every girl at Hogwarts. And every single girl has visions of Malfoy weath dancing in her brain. It would be so much fun to watch them all drop him."
"You got it," Dean said, smirking, thoughts of a dateless Draco dancing in his brain. "I'll smuggle your guitar into the dining hall. All you've got to do is wear this" he flicked the collar of Harry's white shirt,"under your robe. Then you can climb up on the Gryffindor table and strut your stuff."
"Sounds good to me," Harry replied, a grin crossing his lips as he thought of performing before all of Hogwarts. It definitely sounded good to him.
The next day, Harry wasn't sure how he managed to stumble his way through Potions and Transfiguration without major mishaps. All of his thought processes were directed toward showing up the weathy Draco Malfoy and the songs that he would play. Snape actually hadn't seen fit to yell at him, but then Draco had done something awful to his potion. Snape had spent most of the class period helping his golden boy. His notes from Transfiguration were excellent, but then Harry had been on autopilot and every time he strayed too far, Hermione would poke him.
Dinnertime came, and Harry ran up to the dormitory to change. He quickly pulled on the maroon velvet pants and white shirt, then eagerly flung on the velvet vest. Harry paused for a moment to look in the mirror and adjust his collar so that his shell necklace was visible. Before he left, Harry put on his black robes overtop of the rock star's outfit.
Dean was waiting for Harry at the Gryffindor table. "Eat quick...you've got some time, Malfoy's not here yet."
Harry shoved roast beef into his mouth, hurriedly trying to eat before Malfoy arrived. He succeded in downing most of his plate of food before Draco strolled in, whispering something in the ear of a pretty Ravenclaw girl. Harry smirked at Malfoy, imagining his coup.
Draco made a point of strolling by the Gryffindor table with his 'friend'. "Hey there, Potter. What happened to your hair? Did you get it fried when you muffed your Charms work?" He sniggered rottenly.
Draco's girl frowned. She had long black hair and blue eyes, and was definitely one of the most beautiful girls at Hogwarts. She grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him away before Harry could respond to Draco's comments. As they walked toward the Ravenclaw table, where Draco would gallantly drop her off, Harry could see her gesturing toward Draco's hair. Draco's face was gaining a distinctly sullen look.
After Draco had dropped off his Ravenclaw conquest and returned to the Slytherin table, Harry waited until a few Slytherin girls were fawning on him, then stood up. Harry pulled off his robe, revealing the maroon velvet costume. Dean handed the guitar up to Harry as he climbed onto the table.
From the other side of the room, Draco was staring with a puzzled look on his face.
Harry ignored Draco and began his song.
"Your world is cloudy, blue skies turned to gray
Raindrops are fallin', but why stop and call it a day?
There'll be no stormy weather as long as you're with me
Our love's so together, Girl, I love ya, you can depend on me
I'll be your Umbrella Man, shower you with all my love
Umbrella Man, shelter you in my lovin' arms
Umbrella Man, Heaven help me, child you know I love you
Love You, Love You, Love You
Too many nights of love have come and gone.
That's all behind us, girl, I know we can get it on
Well, I want your love to be always close at hand
You're heaven-sent to me, we can make it, girl, I know we can
I'll be your Umbrella Man, shower you with all my love
Umbrella Man, shelter you in my lovin' arms
Umbrella Man, Heaven help me, child you know I love you
Love You, Love You, Love You!"
As he finished out the tune, Harry looked over at the Slytherin table. Draco was now companionless, with a stunned look on his face. Every girl in the dining hall had packed around the Gryffindor table, screaming for Harry. Dean had a broad grin on his face. It had been his idea, and he'd proven himself to be a capable manager.
Draco stood up and said something, but Harry couldn't hear him over the girls begging for autographs. Harry signed what felt like hundreds of things, some he was sure were snatched up at the moment. Others, like the toilet seat borne by Fred and George Weasley and intended for Ginny, Harry was sure were premeditated.
Ginny was red from head to foot after she'd been pushed up against the table. Harry had bent down and rescued her by pulling Ginny up to stand with him on the table. To cap it off, he'd bestowed a kiss upon Ginny's hand before handing her down to Ron. After lifting Ginny down from the table, Ron glowered at Harry. Harry stuck out his tongue, then mouthed the words 'you're jealous' at Ron.
Ron gave up and put his head in his hands.
Dean allowed Hermione to jump up on the table. "Harry!" she said. "That was incredible. Could you play another one for us?"
"Yeah!" shouted one of Draco's former companions.
Harry smiled. Fortunately, he'd thought about what he'd do if the girls wanted more than one song. He had his encore all prepared. Harry swung his guitar back into position and started to play his next song.
"Will there come a day you and I can say
we can finally see each other?
Will there come a time we can find the time
to reach out for one another?
We've been travelin' in circles such a long, long time
tryin' to say hello, hello!
And we can just let it ride, but you're someone that I'd
like to get to know.
I'll meet you halfway, that's better than no way
There must be some way to get it together
And if there's some way, I know that some day
We just might work it out forever.
Will there come a day you and I can say
we can finally see each other?
Will there come a time we can find the time
to reach out for one another?
I'll meet you halfway, that's better than no way
I'll meet you halfway, that's better than no way."
When Harry took his bow and climbed down from his makeshift stage, the crowd went crazy. Across the room, Draco Malfoy's face bore a distinctly nasty look. It was utter and total confusion mixed with pure hatred of Harry. Harry couldn't wait to see how Draco tried to top that.
Two Hufflepuff girls grabbed Harry and kissed him, both aiming for his lips. Harry wrenched away and tried to hide under the table. Dean and two of his buddies surrounded Harry and promptly started beating the girls off.
Abruptly, there was an explosive crack. Professor McGonagall held her wand in the air, and a wisp of smoke rose from the tip. The hall had gone silent.
"What is going on here?" McGonagall's voice overrode any and all remaining muttering.
Draco ran up to McGonagall and began recounting a highly colored version of what had happened. That is, until Parvati Patil scooped up a tomato and pasted Draco in the head with it.
"Miss Patil, that will be enough." McGonagall said. "If Harry decided to sing for a few of his friends, that is fine. In fact, I find it commendable that he has discovered this talent, since he has an excellent voice. BUT," McGonagall said, raising her voice to reach the entire hall, "We will NOT engage in any future riots of this kind. Do I make myself clear?"
Heads all around the room nodded.
"We'll talk to McGonagall later," Dean said. "Maybe we can arrange a concert in an empty classroom one evening. Could even charge admission!"
Harry nodded, only half hearing Dean's ideas. He was concentrating on Draco's pinched face, which was splattered with tomato pulp and livid with rage that he hadn't gotten Harry in trouble over the riot.
Later, Harry and Dean were in Professor McGonagall's office, discussing the possibility of Harry holding a concert in a classroom. McGonagall had squashed Dean's idea to charge admission, declaring that it wasn't fair to the poorer girls and that if Hogwarts was to sponsor Harry's concert, it would have to be free to all students.
The second problem facing them was that there really wasn't a classroom big enough to hold all of Harry's fans. The only room that would hold all the girls in the school comfortably was the main hall. McGonagall agreed to speak to the headmaster about it, but it seemed unlikely that the concert would go through. She promised Dean and Harry that she would inform them at dinner tomorrow if they could use the hall for Harry's concert.
Dean and Harry retreated to the dormitory to hash out details for the concert in the event that Harry was allowed to perform. Dean, being Muggle-born, had a very good idea of how Muggle concerts worked-with plenty of electric lights and in some cases, pyrotechnics.
"Damn," Dean muttered. "I wish I could bring in my cousin. He does set lighing for a band in America. He could do a great job for you."
Harry shrugged. "How much light do we really need?"
"It's not just to make sure that the audience can see you, Harry," Dean said, trying to explain all the concepts that his American cousin had imparted to him. "A lot of the lights are for dramatic effects, change color according to the mood of the song and things like that."
"It's not really that important, is it?" Harry asked. "We can use spell-lights to give a strong white light to the area that we use as a stage, and that should be all we really need."
"You're probably right. Minimal, in this case, may be best. You aren't Freddy Mercury, after all."
"Freddy Mercury?" Harry asked.
"Y'know, Harry, for someone raised by Muggles, you sure don't know a lot about them."
"I wouldn't define my aunt and uncle as normal Muggles. They're more like pigs in human clothing," Harry said. "They didn't exactly listen to a lot of music, besides the oldies station on the radio, and that didn't teach me a lot about much of anything."
"That's probably true," Dean said. "Freddy Mercury was the leader of a band that was big into the special effects onstage. The band was called Queen."
"That's a wierd name for a band."
"Not really. Is it any worse than the Backstreet Boys?"
"That's a band? I thought that backstreet boys were male hookers."
Dean snorted wildly with laughter. "My sister would love to hear that!"
"What? Does she like them?!"
Dean recovered himself slightly. "Yeah, she likes them a lot. You know how the girls here are about you now? She acts that way about the Backstreet Boys."
"Well, I guess you really can name your band anything that you want to. Should I have a band, a drummer and stuff, Dean? What do you think?"
"I don't think so. You can't write down music, you can only play it, right?"
Harry nodded his head. "I don't know where it comes from, Dean. But it's this powerful need to sing, and play the guitar. I can't explain it, or tell if it will ever go away."
"Right. So a band is out--they won't be able to follow you. Besides, not much of anyone here plays the normal Muggle instruments. Most of the musical folks here at Hogwarts are too used to having magic instruments."
"Me and my guitar, up there on the stage," Harry mused, stroking the curves of the guitar that he cradled in his lap.
"Harry," Dean said, looking puzzled. "Harry, that's an electric guitar."
"Yeah, so?"
"How is it working, here at Hogwarts when it's not plugged into anything?"
"Beats me. Must be enchanted. Like I said, I just found it after it appeared out of nowhere."
"Hmm." Dean mused for a few moments. "Do you have any other costumes, Harry?"
Harry looked down at his maroon velvet suit. "No, Dean. Nothing else has appeared for me. Besides, this is my image now, you know."
"Harry, look!" Dean said, pointing to the pillow on Harry's bed.
Harry whirled around. Draped across his pillow was a black jumpsuit that looked as though it would fit him like a second skin. There was a silver glitter-and-rhinestone crescent moon on the chest, and small glitter stars down the sleeves and on the flared part of the legs.
"Well, it appears that I now have another costume," Harry said. "And a very wizardly one at that."
"Okay, so we've got costume and lighting hammered out," Dean said. "Now all we need is a date."
"How about three days after we get the OK from McGonagall?" Harry proposed. "We can start making up posters now, to announce the concert."
"I bet the girls would be glad to help you. Why don't we go down to the common room and arrange a photo shoot, tell them the date, and let the girls make the posters."
"That's a good idea, Dean. Can your seventh-year friends keep the girls off me? If they can, it'll be perfect."
"Sure they can. I'll go get them. Come out in five minutes, Harry!"
True to his word, Harry came out of the dormitory five minutes later. Dean's two seventh-year friends kept the girls off of Harry until he could climb up onto a table again.
"Girls, could you quiet down?" Dean said. "Harry's got some important announcements to make."
The girls of Gryffindor got very quiet.
Harry cleared his throat. "As soon as Professor McGonagall tells us that it's OK, I am going to have a concert in the main hall. Dean and I are planning to hold it about three days from now. We would greatly appreciate it if you would help us make up posters to promote the concert. You can take pictures to use if you want."
The girls immediately went crazy. Most ran back to their dormitories for their cameras, but quite a few had evidently been hiding cameras inside their robes, waiting for the perfect shot. Harry was nearly blinded by the multitude of flashes being set off in his face at once.
The next day at dinner, Draco Malfoy was conspicuously absent. Harry asked Dean if he knew anything about Draco's disappearance.
"I heard something about family trouble," Dean said, "but I'm not sure. All I know is that he had to go home. Got some kind of letter from his father."
"At least he will be out of our hair for the concert," Harry said. Life was good.
At the far end of the table, Ron had a firm hold on Ginny, preventing her from running to Harry. Ron had become overly protective of Ginny. He refused to let her anywhere near Harry. Ginny, as a result, was heartbroken that she wasn't let near her heartthrob to at least get an autograph.
Professor McGonagall walked up behind Harry and Dean. "I'm glad to be able to tell you that Professor Dumbledore has approved your concert. Professor Snape opposed it, of course, but the Headmaster saw things our way. You're on, Harry!"
Harry gave Dean a high five.
The night of the concert, Harry was in the dormitory, squeezing himself into the black and silver jumpsuit, which did indeed fit him like a second skin. He looked in the mirror. All that remained of the old Harry Potter was the lightning bolt scar. He brushed out his long, feathery mane and looked at himself. His body had gotten a light musculature that showed through the snug jumpsuit and would certainly drive the girls wild.
"Are you ready?" Dean said, sticking his head in.
"I don't think so," Harry said, suddenly embarassed by the skintight costume. "I can't go up there on that stage looking like this!"
"Sure you can, and they will love it, too," Dean said. "Come on, we're ready to go. Your guitar is down on the stage."
Dean and his two friends acted as bodyguards, escorting Harry down to the hall. There had been a startling change in the hall--the only light was on the stage at one end, and there was a broad aisle down the middle, where Harry walked to get to the stage.
It seemed that every girl in Hogwarts was crammed into the hall. And all of them were screaming for Harry.
Harry waved to the crowd briefly before picking up his guitar and launching into the first song of his concert, one that he'd practiced for Dean. Dean had thought that it would make a perfect song to start the concert.
"I can feel your heartbeat and you didn't even say a word
I can feel your heartbeat and you didn't even say a word
Oh, I know, pretty woman that your love can be heard
You can feel my heartbeat, too. I can tell you're feelin' me
You can feel my heartbeat, too. I can see you feelin' me
Oh, I know, pretty woman that your love can be heard.
Ohhhhh...
We paint the night, let it shine in the light of our love
This is the night - yeah, this is the night of our love
I'll treat you like a woman, love you like a woman
Lord, I'll prove it baby, I'm a man of my word
Love, love - cantcha feel your heartbeat
Love, love - I can feel your heartbeat
Love, love - cantcha feel your heartbeat, love!
We paint the night, let it shine in the light of our love
This is the night - yeah, this is the night of our love
I'll treat you like a woman, love you like a woman
Lord, I'll prove it baby, I'm a man of my word
Love, love - cantcha feel your heartbeat
Love, love - I can feel your heartbeat
Love, love - cantcha feel my heartbeat
Love, love - I can feel your heartbeat
Love, love - cantcha feel your heartbeat
Love, love - I can feel your heartbeat
Love, love - cantcha feel it?
Love, love - I can feel it!
Love, love - gettin' stronger!
Love, love - Oh, I can feel it!
Love, love - I can feel it!
Love, love - It's gettin' stronger -
LOVE!"
The girls went wild. Some were throwing flowers, pilfered from the greenhouse during one of Professor Sprout's Herbology classes. Others were throwing stuffed animals and notes onto the stage. Harry smiled. This was great! He put a little strut into his walk and went forward to smell one of the flowers.
With a tiny bit of theatricality, Harry picked up the flower and kissed it, then flung it back out into the audience. The girls shouted and made breathy sighs.
Against the back wall, several of the teachers had lined up. Snape was looking at Harry with a distinctly nasty glare, but Harry decided not to let that worry him. Snape was probably mad because his golden boy, Draco, couldn't sing.
Harry returned to the middle of the stage and readied his guitar for the next song in the set that he had prepared. He was ready for this! Harry played the beginning chords on his guitar, and launched into the next song.
"Last night, I turned out the light, lay down and thought about you
I thought about the way that it could be
Two o'clock, wonderin' what I'm doin' here alone without you
so I close my eyes and dream you here to me, and
I woke up in love this morning
I woke up in love this morning
Went to sleep with you on my mind
I woke up in love this morning
I woke up in love this morning
Went to sleep with you on my mind
Hello, girl, yes it's five o'clock I know but you just listen
there's something that I've got to let you know
This is you, this pillow that I'm huggin' and I'm kissin'
and one more thing before I let you go
I woke up in love this morning
I woke up in love this morning
Went to sleep with you on my mind
I woke up in love this morning
I woke up in love this morning
Went to sleep with you on my mind
Do dreams come true, well if they do, I'll have you
Not just for a night, but for my whole life through."
The girls screamed again. but this time for a different reason. The double doors at the back of the room slammed open violently. Lucius Malfoy strode into the room, his eyes practically throwing sparks.
"What is the meaning of this moronic display?" Lucius spat, turning on Dumbledore. "This is an institution of learning, not a music hall or recording studio."
"It seems Harry has discovered an amazing talent," Dumbledore said. "The girls were all thrilled by this. And it was really this, or having all the girls begging him for concerts in the halls and causing endless problems."
Harry, onstage, could hear the entire conversation. At his father's side, Draco smirked at Harry. With a sinking feeling in his gut, Harry realized why Draco had been absent. He must have persuaded his father to destroy Harry's career as a singer. Draco had come up with a way to get back at Harry for stealing all the girls' affections.
"This is not a proper activity for a student of wizardry," Lucius snapped. "I demand that you put a stop to Potter's behavior at once."
"Even if I prevent Harry from singing, the girls will still adore him," Dumbledore said dryly. "And they will be the ones causing problems if Harry is forbidden from performing."
"If your precious Potter is so determined to sing, let him do it for the Muggles," Lucius said. "I suggest you expel him from Hogwarts for this inappropriate behavior."
"I see nothing to warrant expulsion," Dumbledore said mildly. "Harry's grades are excellent and he has not broken any rules that would warrant expulsion."
"Then I will go to the Ministry of Magic and see to it that Potter is expelled for this asisinine display," Lucius threatened.
Draco reached up and tugged his father's robes, then whispered something to Lucius. Harry couldn't hear, but felt sure that whatever it was, it was not good news. His only hope to keep learning magic was Dumbledore's support. If Lucius managed to win over the Ministry of Magic...well, that spelled curtains on his career as a wizard. Harry, for the first time, regretted putting on the old necklace that Ron had found. Maybe if he took it off, he could revert back to being nerdy old Harry Potter, famous for destroying Voldemort.
"The necklace!" Lucius shouted. "Of course! That's it. His talents have been magically enhanced. Remove that silly shell necklace, and you remove the problem from Potter."
Harry's blood pounded in his ears and the room started to swirl. If he lost the necklace, he would lose his ability to sing and play the guitar. The girls would all think that he was a fake. Through the haze, Harry saw Lucius Malfoy raise his wand and a bolt of energy shot from it.
The witchbolt struck the shells on their fragile string around Harry's neck. The enchanted necklace burst apart, and blackened puka shells fell and bounced. Harry flew a few feet backward and landed on his back. He wasn't hurt, but his necklace had been destroyed.
Harry laid his head back and sighed, realizing that it was back to his mended glasses and knobby knees. His glorious mane would disappear and his eyes would revert to ordinary green.
Lucius and Draco climbed up onto the makeshift stage to gloat. Harry groaned, realizing that Draco would see that he was a fake. And Draco would lord it over him forever. Ron was there too, closely followed by Hermione and Dumbledore.
"I thought you said that the necklace was the source of his transformation," Lucius said to his son.
"I thought it was," Draco said sullenly.
"Well, his looks haven't changed, and he can probably still sing. And now that I've attacked Potter, I can't have him expelled for you. I hope you're happy," Lucius said. He dragged Draco out by the ear.
"What?" Harry asked groggily.
Ron smiled at him. "Sorry I snapped at you. I guess what you are now must have always been inside. The shells weren't really responsible for changing you after all. Maybe You-Know-Who did this to you when he attacked, tried to hide your destiny and talents."
"Harry!" Hermione said. "I'm so glad you're okay! I can't believe that Draco would do that to you."
Dumbledore smiled. "Wizards have always had their own musicians. It looks like you're destined to be the next big thing in the wizard world, Harry."
Harry smiled. Life was going to be good from here on out. He had it all.
E N D
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The songs in this story are (in order):
I Think I Love You from The
Partridge Family Album
She'd Rather Have the Rain from
Up To Date by the Partridge Family
Umbrella Man from Up To Date by the
Partridge Family
I'll Meet You Halfway
from Up To Date by the Partridge Family
I Can Feel Your
Heartbeat from The Partridge Family
Album
I Woke Up In Love This Morning from
Sound Magazine by the Partridge Family
Oh, and if you REALLY want to hear these songs, all of the records that I mentioned above have been re-released on CD, courtesy of Buddha Records. I got my copies at Borders--you can too. Go get yours and we'll all get happy with Harry!