[fic] Harry Potter and the E-Street Band
SPOILERS: Goblet of Fire.
WARNINGS: None!
Deep inside his heart, Harry knew one thing and one thing alone was meant for him.
He wasn't too keen on talking about it, though. He wasn't sure what anyone would think of it at all. He was pretty sure Ron and Hermione would be okay with it, but it didn't do to think about what some other people would say. So for the most part, he tried to hide it.
Then, one day, he couldn't resist. It was some time after Fred and George had tried using a specific spell to cross the Age Line Dumbledore had put around the Goblet of Fire. It was impressive how well it had worked---well, except for the end bit. But prior to that, it seemed like a very good idea indeed.
"You don't suppose you could teach me that spell, do you?" Harry asked Fred and George in the library one day. Madam Pince immediately shushed him, which left Harry standing slackjawed; he still hadn't quite rationalised just what Fred and George were doing in the library, so he wasn't quite in library mode. Madam Pince's shushing finally brought the point home. "What are the pair of you doing here, anyway?" Harry whispered as quietly as he could while still being reasonably sure it would carry.
"We've got to do R + D for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, don't we?" Fred smiled conspiratorially. "A fine financier like yourself must know that much," George added.
Fearing Madam Pince's glare, Harry grabbed both twins' arms and nodded his head toward the door urgently. They looked at each other, exchanged some sort of unreadable mental communication, and as one, picked up their bags and left.
Once outside, they were more than happy to give Harry the spell in question, but not without some hard questioning. "Always happy to further the cause of raucous ribaldry and general mischief, but what do you need this spell for anyway, Harry?" George adopted his best paternal tone until Fred elbowed him in the ribs.
"Keep in mind we don't want to know anything if you think we'll need plausible deniability later," Fred said as he winked.
"Um...uh..." Harry stammered, turning beet red. Did he dare say anything to these two? He knew how well they kept secrets. Or didn't, actually.
"Now, now, the boy's got a right to his secrets..." Fred said.
Harry was relieved, thanked the two, and rushed off anxiously.
"...which we're obligated to investigate. Come, fair brother! Let us away!" Fred grabbed George's hand and waltzed the two off down the hallway a few steps before they broke apart in a fit of mad chortling.
******
"Max, what's wrong? You're looking a little pale," Conan O'Brien said as he passed Max Weinberg on the way to his dressing room before a taping of The Conan O'Brien Show was scheduled to begin.
"Oh, I'll be fine," Max's voice cracked as he tried to force it down to a normal pitch.
"You sure? You don't sound like yourself, either. You've got to stay well...got a tour coming up! Don't want to disappoint your fans, do you?" Conan was in a fairly jovial mood, and friendly with it.
"I'll be fine, thanks." Max smiled in what he thought was a reassuring manner as he headed out to his drum kit onstage.
******
"Stop the tape. STOP THE TAPE!" Conan shouted. "What was that? You sure you're all right, Max? No offense, but that was the crappiest I've ever heard you play!"
Backstage, Fred and George gaped, then sniggered madly.
"Harry, mate, that isn't the way to break into the music business. You need talent first."
On that day, Harry learnt that using an aging spell to impersonate Max Weinberg and go on tour with Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band was not as easy as he'd thought.
He also learnt he was extremely lucky that Weinberg appreciated a good joke and didn't attempt to sue him, especially after Harry had locked him in a wardrobe prior to quaffing the potion and striding out onstage to violate Weinberg's drum kit.
As for Fred and George, they videotaped the whole thing and put it on YouTube, but it unfortunately got yanked due to a pending lawsuit involving NBC.
WARNINGS: None!
Deep inside his heart, Harry knew one thing and one thing alone was meant for him.
He wasn't too keen on talking about it, though. He wasn't sure what anyone would think of it at all. He was pretty sure Ron and Hermione would be okay with it, but it didn't do to think about what some other people would say. So for the most part, he tried to hide it.
Then, one day, he couldn't resist. It was some time after Fred and George had tried using a specific spell to cross the Age Line Dumbledore had put around the Goblet of Fire. It was impressive how well it had worked---well, except for the end bit. But prior to that, it seemed like a very good idea indeed.
"You don't suppose you could teach me that spell, do you?" Harry asked Fred and George in the library one day. Madam Pince immediately shushed him, which left Harry standing slackjawed; he still hadn't quite rationalised just what Fred and George were doing in the library, so he wasn't quite in library mode. Madam Pince's shushing finally brought the point home. "What are the pair of you doing here, anyway?" Harry whispered as quietly as he could while still being reasonably sure it would carry.
"We've got to do R + D for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, don't we?" Fred smiled conspiratorially. "A fine financier like yourself must know that much," George added.
Fearing Madam Pince's glare, Harry grabbed both twins' arms and nodded his head toward the door urgently. They looked at each other, exchanged some sort of unreadable mental communication, and as one, picked up their bags and left.
Once outside, they were more than happy to give Harry the spell in question, but not without some hard questioning. "Always happy to further the cause of raucous ribaldry and general mischief, but what do you need this spell for anyway, Harry?" George adopted his best paternal tone until Fred elbowed him in the ribs.
"Keep in mind we don't want to know anything if you think we'll need plausible deniability later," Fred said as he winked.
"Um...uh..." Harry stammered, turning beet red. Did he dare say anything to these two? He knew how well they kept secrets. Or didn't, actually.
"Now, now, the boy's got a right to his secrets..." Fred said.
Harry was relieved, thanked the two, and rushed off anxiously.
"...which we're obligated to investigate. Come, fair brother! Let us away!" Fred grabbed George's hand and waltzed the two off down the hallway a few steps before they broke apart in a fit of mad chortling.
******
"Max, what's wrong? You're looking a little pale," Conan O'Brien said as he passed Max Weinberg on the way to his dressing room before a taping of The Conan O'Brien Show was scheduled to begin.
"Oh, I'll be fine," Max's voice cracked as he tried to force it down to a normal pitch.
"You sure? You don't sound like yourself, either. You've got to stay well...got a tour coming up! Don't want to disappoint your fans, do you?" Conan was in a fairly jovial mood, and friendly with it.
"I'll be fine, thanks." Max smiled in what he thought was a reassuring manner as he headed out to his drum kit onstage.
******
"Stop the tape. STOP THE TAPE!" Conan shouted. "What was that? You sure you're all right, Max? No offense, but that was the crappiest I've ever heard you play!"
Backstage, Fred and George gaped, then sniggered madly.
"Harry, mate, that isn't the way to break into the music business. You need talent first."
On that day, Harry learnt that using an aging spell to impersonate Max Weinberg and go on tour with Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street Band was not as easy as he'd thought.
He also learnt he was extremely lucky that Weinberg appreciated a good joke and didn't attempt to sue him, especially after Harry had locked him in a wardrobe prior to quaffing the potion and striding out onstage to violate Weinberg's drum kit.
As for Fred and George, they videotaped the whole thing and put it on YouTube, but it unfortunately got yanked due to a pending lawsuit involving NBC.