MetaFic

Four third-year boys were seated around a table in a secluded portion of the Gryffindor common room, near the stairs to the girl’s dormitory. Across the table were scattered several books on transfiguration and animagi, and parchment covered with notes. Unfortunately, disturbed by loud noises coming from the girl’s dormitories, the boys were not getting much work accomplished. A muffled staccato of drums lead to a prolonged booming sound that repeated over and over. In between the cycles of noise the boys heard the equally muffled sound of girls giggling and laughing.

“What is that?” grumped Peter. “How is anyone expected to study with that…that racket!”

“If only you studied this hard for our normal classes...” Remus quietly smiled.

Sirius stared at Remus for a moment, and then sniffed, “Our marks are more than adequate, Remus.” Lowering his voice he added, “Besides, this is far more important than any mere class. It is for your benefit after all!”

Pasting an innocent smile on his face, Sirius turned and said, “Say, James! Why don’t you go up and tell them to turn down that racket.” He barked out a laugh while Peter snickered.

“Ha ha,” James huffed. “How was I to know the stairs to the girls' dorms were bewitched with an alarm? It’s like… like we can’t be trusted, or something.”

Remus stared at him with one eyebrow raised while Peter and Sirius laughed again.

James sat there a moment, slowly turning red. “Well, be that as it may, where is a prefect when you actually need one?” he fussed.

They returned to their studies trying to ignore the bangs and booms from the level above. After a while the loud noises ceased although the laughing and giggling continued. The boys heard a door open and close then four girls stepped lightly down the stairs to the common room. Leading them was Lily Evans who repeatedly sang, “Saturday, Saturday, Saturday night’s alright,” slightly off key as she bobbed her head, causing her red hair to sway in waves.

Sirius and Remus glanced at James, gazing wide-eyed at the stairway, and then at each other.

“Not again,” whispered Sirius with exasperation. “Are you sure she hasn’t come up with some ‘gobsmacked hex’ or something?”

Remus reached over and pushed up on James’ chin, closing his mouth. “All right there, James? You with us now?”

James blinked and then shook his head slightly. “What? Ah, the noise has stopped. Good!”

The girls suddenly halted at the foot of the steps, embarrassed by the boys sitting watching them.

Remus turned and asked, “Lily, what on earth was that cacophonous noise?”

“Don’t use big words around Peter, Remus. You’ll only confuse him,” Sirius patronized.

“I know what cacophonous means!” spat Peter.

Ignoring this by-play, Lily replied to Remus’ question. “My parents sent me a new record from one of my favorite musicians. Haven’t any of you heard of Elton John?” she asked. Met by four blank faces she prodded, “Goodbye Yellow Brick Road?” There was no hint of comprehension from the boys.

“Rock and roll?” she asked, becoming annoyed. “I see. Let’s try music. You have heard of music, haven’t you?” she said sarcastically.

“That was music?” asked Sirius incredulously. “The WWN has certainly fallen on hard times!”

Lily looked at her roommates, rolled her eyes, and sighed. “That wasn’t the WWN. Haven’t you ever heard of rock and roll?”

“Should we have?” replied Peter.

“You would if you were Muggle kids! This is the best music around. It’s no wonder hardly any witches or wizards our age listen to the WWN. My grandmum would get bored with it! The whole Yellow Brick Road album is great, and this is the best song on it.” Lily smirked at James and with an overly sweet voice said, “We would ask you to come up and listen, but Potter hardly needs more detention.”

His cheeks tinged pink, James unexpectedly asked, “C…could you bring your music box down here then, so I, I mean, we could listen?”

Lily blinked in astonishment and then searched his face for the expected smirk of mockery. What she saw reminded her of a puppy hoping for a treat.

“All right,” she said slowly, “I will get it. And, by the way, it’s not a music box, it’s called a gramophone. It’s sort of an early Muggle record player, made before electricity.” Lily nodded to one of her roommates and they turned to scampered up the steps to their dorm.

“You know,” said Remus thoughtfully, “I have some jazz records I really enjoy.”

Lily stopped and looked over her shoulder, “Cool! Do you want to bring them down to listen to?”

Remus shook his head. “They’re at home, but I can have my parents sent them.”

“Do that! You know what they say ‘Music calms the savage beast’.” Looking at the other three boys she laughed and continued up the steps.

Remus smiled back slightly and muttered, “If you only knew…”

Sirius nudged Remus and nodded at James who now stared, mouth slightly agape, at the step from where Lily had just laughed. “Are you sure she isn’t… ?”

“I am almost positive this is nothing deliberate on her part,” Remus sighed as he again pushed James’ lower jaw closed.

Lily returned a few moments later with a wooden box, a handle sticking out the side. Her roommate carried what appeared to be a large narrow metal tulip. Lily set the box down, attached the flower-shaped megaphone, gave the handle several turns, and then set the tone arm on the record.

The sharp opening beats of a snare drum sounded, followed by electric guitar and bass as the song began.

“It's getting late here, have you seen my mates? Ma, tell me when the boys get here…
………
Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday, Saturday night’s alright...”

“Wow,” exclaimed James, as the song faded away, “that was…loud!”

“It was definitely cacophonous,” said Peter who missed the glance and wry smile Remus gave Sirius.

“So, Evans, what was that about?” asked Sirius, studiously ignoring Remus’ look.

Lily passionately launched into a detailed exposition about the pent up frustrations of Muggle lower-class teens, and the anger they felt at having to obey rules they didn’t make or understand. Remus, Sirius, and Peter looked at each other, shook their heads, and didn’t even bother to hide their eyes glazing over. James, however, listened with rapt attention.

As she wound down, an astonished James asked, “Frustrated and angry with rules? And you sympathize?”

“Well,” Lily sniffed haughtily, “one is allowed to feel rebellious on occasion, isn’t one?”

“Rebellious?” barked Sirius. “Oh yeah, Evans, that’s you to a tee. Little Miss Future-Head-Girl, the closet rebel,” Sirius continued to laugh.

“What d‘ya say Lil… uh… Evans,” interrupted James. “Let’s have another go at the song. Please?”

“I don’t know,” she hesitated, taking the measure of James’ plea.

“Come on, Lily!” her roommates giggled.

With a slight sigh Lily lowered the gramophone needle and the staccato drums started again…

After this second listening, Sirius gave her a perplexed look. “Evans, that chap, the one singing, he likes what, noises? What gives? I can barely understand what he says.”

“Er…” she temporized. Rapidly running through the lyrics she smiled. “Ah! Do you mean, 'A couple of the sounds that I really like, are the sounds of a switchblade and a motorbike…' You mean those sounds?” she asked.

“Yeah, those,” replied Sirius. “I assume they’re Muggle stuff, yeah? What are they, what sorts of sounds do they make?”

Lily gave Sirius a hard look at the term ‘Muggle stuff,’ but told him, “A switchblade is a sort of knife with a blade on springs and it opens with the push of a button, or switch. Hence ‘switch’ and ‘blade.’ It sounds a bit like a latch softly opening. I’ve never owned one," Lily wrinkled her nose in disgust. "It’s more something that thugs, and those sort, use.”

”Uh huh,” nodded James, staring at her nose.

“A motorbike is a two-wheeled vehicle with a motor between the wheels that the rider sits over. They are rather light and quite fast, like one of your Quidditch brooms, although they are loud and uncomfortable to ride. In proper circles a motorbike is considered unruly and…and well, immodest!”

“Really?” Sirius sat up, suddenly very interested.

“Yes, really, Black. As though you’d need any help being unruly and immodest,” Lily replied sternly.

“Quite right, M’Lady! Unruly and Immodest, at your service!” Sirius grinned.

Her roommates giggled at Sirius’ antics, but Lily frowned and shook her head, her hair again moving in waves.

“Oh, for the love of …” muttered Remus, moving to close James’ mouth again. “James,” he hissed softly, “we really need to talk, mate.”

James blinked then shook his head slightly. “What? Talk? About motorbikes?”

Lily and her roommates picked up the gramophone, chatting amongst themselves. Without another glance at the boys, they went back up the steps and returned to their dorm.

For a moment the four boys looked around the common room, unsure what just happened. With a mutual shrug they returned to their books and notes. Soon the only sounds now coming from that part of the room were the turning of pages and the scratching of quill on parchment.

After a bit, Sirius leaned back in his chair, and stretched his arms over his head. Turning to the other three he said softly, “You know, after we perfect our Animagi transformations, I imagine we can have anything, if we want it bad enough!”

“So?” Peter asked, not quite understanding.

"Unruly and immodest,” Sirius snickered to himself. “So Peter,” he said with a determined glint in his eye, “I have decided that someday I will have a motorbike!”