Fic: Don't Stop 'Em Now; A Flashback Interlude of Dubious Sanity
title: Don't Stop 'Em Now; A Flashback Interlude of Dubious Sanity
summary: Pranking is a fine art, a great tradition, and it's come time to pass on the torch.
characters: Brothers Prewett, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily (sort of)
genre: humor. this could be nothing but humor. try not to be offended.
word count: 2568
a/n: from latenightcuppa - this might actually be the most insane thing that Chary and I have ever written together, and knowing us, this is really saying quite a lot. She wrote the Brothers Prewett, I wrote James, Sirius, and Remus. I also borrowed Peter and Lily, but only for a little bit. ;)
It's no secret that pranking is a Gryffindor tradition. One might even argue that it is The Gryffindor Tradition, even more so than that stupid thoughtless bravery that has so often defined the house, going all the way back to that time when Godric Gryffindor first set a particularly amorous flock of chickens after Salazar Slytherin.
And as is the case with all traditions, there are certain rituals which need seeing to.
There is a wisdom to pranking, you see. It's a fine art, and any idiot with a wand and enough money to spend at Zonko's does not a prankster make. In every generation, there is a great team of pranksters. Decade after decade, they pass on their knowledge.
But first, the younger pranksters in training must prove their worth. Undergo such tests of spirit and be so thoroughly embarrassed and shamed that surely they must be dedicated.
This is the story of the testing of James Potter and Sirius Black at the hands of the inimitable Brothers Prewett.
---
Gideon Prewett looks at his calendar, after much digging, of course, and upon seeing the date he panics. "Fabian?"
"Not right now, busy finalizing our May prank." Fabian answers with slight frustration. "But can we really transfigure that many macaws? No- wait, yes."
"Fabian." Gideon interrupts, "it's the final countdown. We'll be gone and who will take our place? It's time. Time to pass on our legacy, but before we can do that you know, you know what must be done."
Fabian looks at his brother, exasperated, "Did you get a bludger to the head during practice today?"
"No."
"Then why are you narrating like your life depended on it? I know tradition, you twat." Fabian answers. "Oi, there they go now, our legacy." Gideon and Fabian stop everything and watch, with trepidation, the following scene ensue:
Sirius Black is walking backwards facing his partner in crime, James Potter, looking all the world as if he's concocting some grand and surely chaotic scheme.
"And then, Prongs, I was thinking that if only we inverted the mirror part of the hex..."
"Padfoot," James interrupts, getting slightly dizzy while wondering at what point Sirius will trip over something and go flying backwards.
"Wot?"
"Why are you wearing Aviators inside?" James asks impatiently, pushing an unruly hair from his eyes.
"James," Sirius says dramatically. "Why wouldn't I wear Aviators inside?"
"Oi, ladies." Gideon calls out. After no response, he tries another tactic. "HAIR MODEL AND INBRED OVER HERE, PLEASE."
James and Sirius turn around in unison, both breaking out into broad giddy grins.
"Brothers Prewett! Lords of Our Trade! How are you doing on this fine afternoon? Anything we can do for you?" Sirius asks with what can be best described as a flourish.
"Polish your boots? Organize your socks? Do your homework?" James suggests, trying to look helpful.
"Snog your girlfriends?" Sirius adds cheerfully, before being swiftly elbowed in the stomach by James.
"Shut up, you fuckwit," James hisses.
Fabian says rather casually, "Hm, I should do that later, she'll get angry if i don't."
Gideon glares at his brother with a look clearly that clearly says 'You are soiling eons of tradition with your lust.' It was a very specific look. "We accept your kind offers, and will probably take you up on a a few of them-"
"-except for the girlfriend bit. I'm the only one who has one-" Fabian adds, stopping when Gideon glares at him again. "Carry on, brother."
"As you know, we're seventh years and the term is," Gideon pauses, wistfully looking out the nearby window, "the term is nearly over. We have great things planned, a... farewell if you will. A love letter to Hogwarts, our soon to be alma mater."
Fabian grew tired of his brother's flair for the dramatic and continues with a bit of his own. "We wish to bestow upon you everything we know, everything that was given to us from Gryffindors past." After saying this, Fabian now realizes why it was Gideon narrated so dramatically all the time, it was insanely fulfilling.
"So, what say you, James? Sirius? Do you wish to continue the great legacy started by our founder Godric Gryffindor?" Gideon says, voice no higher than a whisper.
James and Sirius's faces are comically slack as they stare somewhat vacantly at their heroes.
"Well, fuck me," Sirius breathes.
"What he means," James says with some authority, gathering his courage and setting his shoulders, "is yes. We would be honored."
Sirius nods dumbly.
"I was hoping that wasn't another proposition, Black." Gideon answers, clearing his throat. "Seeing as it wasn't and that you two lads have chosen wisely, you know we're not really ones for tradition, rules et cetera, but seeing as this is nearly a thousand years old, we're a bit superstitious as to fiddling with procedure."
"Bit superstitious, you know." Fabian comments. "So before we can bequeath to you our wealth of knowledge, there is one thing that the inductees must do."
Before either can ask, Gideon says, "You must prove yourselves worthy. Pass the test and the gates of wisdom burst open, fail and... well, I guess a thousand years of history goes to die."
"We would like to see, at the end of this week, an interpretation of 'Killer Queen.' Interpret it any way you like, the more outlandish the better. You're trying to impress us, you have to remember." Fabian adds. "Remember it was us who did the epic prank of Christmas '75, traumatizing first years away from Fizzing Whizbees for the rest of their lives."
"It seems so long ago." Gideon says nostalgically. "Anyway, that is your challenge. And remember, a thousand years of tradition, maybe laying foundations for your children to continue this legacy."
"Dad was so proud to hear this." Fabian nods. "Well boys, we have to go. I've got a girlfriend to snog."
"Setting up next month's prank." Gideon says, and rather unceremoniously, the lanky pair of gingers gather up their things and start to leave. "Oh, and boots polishing, we'll take the boots polishing offer, Potter. Ta."
James scratches his head, which Sirius takes to mean "I am terrified of failure," to which Sirius replies by removing his Aviators and placing them atop his head.
Quite rightly, James interprets this as "fuck fuck fuck, me too."
They take off for their dormitory at a full sprint, arms flailing the whole way.
---
"No, absolutely not."
James is standing square in the middle of their dorm, acting as Sirius's style model. If Lily were to walk into the room, James is quite sure that she would assume that all these years he had been chasing after her in order to hide his latent homosexuality, and toss him aside for someone not wearing a skintight jumpsuit.
A skintight jumpsuit with sequins. Rainbow sequins. James wonders vaguely if Sirius isn't trying to tell him something.
He folds his arms awkwardly and glares at Sirius. "I agreed to the jumpsuit because you know, Freddie. Nothing wrong with that."
"It's really rather fetching," Sirius cracks encouragingly.
"And you can't really have the jumpsuit without a feather boa, it really adds to the ensemble, I'm not so thick and useless that I don't realize that."
Sirius nods, urging James to get the fuck on with his point.
"And this wig sort of reminds me of Jimmy Page, who I know Lily sort of fancies, even though she'd never admit it," James says, momentarily going into a daze at the thought of his lady-love.
"Prongs, so help me..."
"DO WE REALLY HAVE TO WEAR MAKEUP, PADFOOT?" James bursts out with a yell, flushing slightly.
"It's not makeup, it's just eyeliner. And yes, yes we do, so stop fucking whining about it. Remember, Prongs. The tradition. The pranks. The wisdom. We have to go all out for this."
James nods solemnly. "You're right. It is the Freddie way."
"It is the Gryffindor way," Sirius corrects him.
James waves a hand impatiently. "Same thing."
Sirius grins and waves the eyeliner that he pilfered from Alice. "Shall we practice?"
"I really do hate you."
---
The common room, at the end of the week, looked less like extra study space and more like a small concert venue. The two oldest and most plush chairs were set atop a table with an 'F' and 'G' on top. All of Gryffindor house were milling about the room, and to say there was a buzz of excitement was an understatement as it was Gryffindor after all, it was more like a dozens of yells of excitement.
"I'm telling you, Gid, she was making eyes at you." Fabian says, buying a bottle of butterbeer from an enterprising fourth year. "Go snog her within an inch of her life."
"Godric is not happy with you." Gideon says, surveying the crowd.
"You're too serious, which is why you need the snog. I'm always relaxed because-"
Gideon escapes the conversation by hopping up onto the table. "GRYFFINDOR! I hope you're enjoying this little shindig my brother and I have put together. Our many thanks and apologies for the pain we've caused you through the years." The chatter and yelling subsides and Gideon continues, Fabian joining him on the table to sit in the appropriately marked chair. "We have some very special entertainment for you this evening-"
"Is it Rolling Stones?" A voice calls out.
"Shut it, Davis." Fabian warns.
"It's not the Stones." Gideon says excitedly. "It's something much... much better."
Standing close to the makeshift stage, Remus and Peter are whispering furiously.
"I saw a glimpse of them before I came out, and well, Wormtail. They look absurd. We can't really let them go through with this, can we?" Remus asks, already feeling the beginnings of a My Friends Are Lunatics headache.
"Are you mad? They'll make fools of themselves, it will be brilliant. It is our duty as Marauders to let them," Peter insists.
Remus decides that Peter is probably right, and reminds himself where their hidden stash of Firewhisky is. It will be needed later, he knows.
There is a crash, and then James and Sirius step out into the common room, going to stand in front of the Prewett Brothers on their "thrones."
They are wearing jumpsuits, elaborately large wigs (which look oddly dashing on Sirius, but just this side of frightening on James), eyeliner, and feather boas wound with meaning around their necks. Their expressions are uncharacteristically serious.
Somewhere in the back of the room, Lily bangs her head lightly against the stone wall.
"Good men and women," Sirius announces loudly. "We come before you humbly with nothing more than our reputations as Gryffindors and our great love for our house..."
"We have come to honor tradition and the geniuses that have come before us," James continues, even as he wonders if he should follow that age old adage and picture the audience in their underwear.
"But enough waffling," Sirius interrupts. "Let the music play!"
A quickly muttered charm later and Queen's Killer Queen is filling the room from Remus's enchanted gramophone.
The smirk on Gideon's face hides behind his hand while Fabian takes this as an opportunity to set down the butterbeer that he KNEW he would spit out at some point. Gideon leans over to his brother and says "They really don't have to do any more than this-"
"-but why stop them?" Fabian grins.
"Fair point." Gideon answers.
It is clear that Sirius, the main showman of the duo, has taken upon it himself to direct the dancing. It begins with an elaborate flailing of the arms, as both boys belt out the song off-key along with the record.
Sirius then with an elaborate readjustment of his boa, leads James into what have once been the tango.
"Playful as a pussycaaaaaaaaaaaaaat," Sirius warbles.
Remus hides his face in his hands. "Tell me they didn't just do a two-man kick-line."
"All right, I won't tell you," Peter tells him agreeably, his face splitting in amusement.
Towards the end of the song, the rest of Gryffindor begins to realize that they are actually attempting to flutter their unusually accented eyelashes in time with the song.
A few idly wonder if they should book two new beds in the St. Mungos mental ward.
James strikes a final pose, looking for all the world as if he's trying to imitate a Muggle gymnast. With a final exaggerated turn of Sirius's hips, they shout "YOU WANNA TRYYYYY."
The music stops.
Years worth of detention and stern talking-to's from McGonagall have made The Prewetts very good at keeping a straight face. Gideon sits back in his chair and Fabian mirrors him, arms folded. All eyes move from the outlandishly dressed sixth years to the two uncharacteristically quiet Scalawags of Somerset.
Gideon inhales and slowly stands up and claps. Very very slowly. Fabian joins him. "Well done." He says and decides to prolong their suffering. "It was, erm, avant-garde what with the makeup style-"
"Avant garde is good though." Fabian adds. "Cutting edge."
"Tell me, did you have to research those makeup charms, or did you know them already?" Gideon asks the two.
James shifts awkwardly and looks pointedly at Sirius.
Sirius juts his chin out stubbornly. "A good prankster is prepared for any possible scenario, m'lord."
"Explains the feather boas." Fabian mutters to Gideon. "Yes, I'll agree with Gideon here. Good show, boys." He sits back in his chair and waves at the same enterprising fourth year, beckoning for a drink.
Satisfied, yet wondering why no one was applauding, Gideon looks at the rest of the house. "Did any of you want to follow them up?" Silence. "Then why the HELL aren't you applauding?" The house awkwardly starts to clap with Gideon leading enthusiastically. Soon someone overtakes the gramophone and starts the Queen album from the very beginning and Gideon beckons James and Sirius to step forward.
"Now that everyone is sufficiently preoccupied," Gideon says seriously, "Fabian and I would like to take this time to pass the torch onto you. In case you hadn't noticed, we've pranked every month this year, we have nothing scheduled for June."
"Out with old in with the new, and we'd like to be here to see the changing of the guard, so to speak." Fabian grins.
"YES!" James and Sirius shout in unison and proceed to do a shimmy of victory.
"All our secrets will be your secrets and we'll tell you the procedure and everything. But you know, pre-exams party, enjoy yourselves." Gideon says dismissively, sitting back in his self-made throne.
---
It was no secret that the antics of one James Potter and one Sirius Black would go down in Gryffindor history as the most outlandish interpretation of a Queen song (yes, this does imply there were more). What was secret and will remain as such were the pearls of wisdom that their interpretation made them privy to.
And on one fateful afternoon in June as McGonagall escorted Sirius and James to her office, Gideon and Fabian, witness to the prank along with half the school, gave the boys a nod of the head. And, well, Gideon mouthed 'Firewhisky, 7th year boys dorms.'
The legacy continues on.
summary: Pranking is a fine art, a great tradition, and it's come time to pass on the torch.
characters: Brothers Prewett, James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily (sort of)
genre: humor. this could be nothing but humor. try not to be offended.
word count: 2568
a/n: from latenightcuppa - this might actually be the most insane thing that Chary and I have ever written together, and knowing us, this is really saying quite a lot. She wrote the Brothers Prewett, I wrote James, Sirius, and Remus. I also borrowed Peter and Lily, but only for a little bit. ;)
It's no secret that pranking is a Gryffindor tradition. One might even argue that it is The Gryffindor Tradition, even more so than that stupid thoughtless bravery that has so often defined the house, going all the way back to that time when Godric Gryffindor first set a particularly amorous flock of chickens after Salazar Slytherin.
And as is the case with all traditions, there are certain rituals which need seeing to.
There is a wisdom to pranking, you see. It's a fine art, and any idiot with a wand and enough money to spend at Zonko's does not a prankster make. In every generation, there is a great team of pranksters. Decade after decade, they pass on their knowledge.
But first, the younger pranksters in training must prove their worth. Undergo such tests of spirit and be so thoroughly embarrassed and shamed that surely they must be dedicated.
This is the story of the testing of James Potter and Sirius Black at the hands of the inimitable Brothers Prewett.
---
Gideon Prewett looks at his calendar, after much digging, of course, and upon seeing the date he panics. "Fabian?"
"Not right now, busy finalizing our May prank." Fabian answers with slight frustration. "But can we really transfigure that many macaws? No- wait, yes."
"Fabian." Gideon interrupts, "it's the final countdown. We'll be gone and who will take our place? It's time. Time to pass on our legacy, but before we can do that you know, you know what must be done."
Fabian looks at his brother, exasperated, "Did you get a bludger to the head during practice today?"
"No."
"Then why are you narrating like your life depended on it? I know tradition, you twat." Fabian answers. "Oi, there they go now, our legacy." Gideon and Fabian stop everything and watch, with trepidation, the following scene ensue:
Sirius Black is walking backwards facing his partner in crime, James Potter, looking all the world as if he's concocting some grand and surely chaotic scheme.
"And then, Prongs, I was thinking that if only we inverted the mirror part of the hex..."
"Padfoot," James interrupts, getting slightly dizzy while wondering at what point Sirius will trip over something and go flying backwards.
"Wot?"
"Why are you wearing Aviators inside?" James asks impatiently, pushing an unruly hair from his eyes.
"James," Sirius says dramatically. "Why wouldn't I wear Aviators inside?"
"Oi, ladies." Gideon calls out. After no response, he tries another tactic. "HAIR MODEL AND INBRED OVER HERE, PLEASE."
James and Sirius turn around in unison, both breaking out into broad giddy grins.
"Brothers Prewett! Lords of Our Trade! How are you doing on this fine afternoon? Anything we can do for you?" Sirius asks with what can be best described as a flourish.
"Polish your boots? Organize your socks? Do your homework?" James suggests, trying to look helpful.
"Snog your girlfriends?" Sirius adds cheerfully, before being swiftly elbowed in the stomach by James.
"Shut up, you fuckwit," James hisses.
Fabian says rather casually, "Hm, I should do that later, she'll get angry if i don't."
Gideon glares at his brother with a look clearly that clearly says 'You are soiling eons of tradition with your lust.' It was a very specific look. "We accept your kind offers, and will probably take you up on a a few of them-"
"-except for the girlfriend bit. I'm the only one who has one-" Fabian adds, stopping when Gideon glares at him again. "Carry on, brother."
"As you know, we're seventh years and the term is," Gideon pauses, wistfully looking out the nearby window, "the term is nearly over. We have great things planned, a... farewell if you will. A love letter to Hogwarts, our soon to be alma mater."
Fabian grew tired of his brother's flair for the dramatic and continues with a bit of his own. "We wish to bestow upon you everything we know, everything that was given to us from Gryffindors past." After saying this, Fabian now realizes why it was Gideon narrated so dramatically all the time, it was insanely fulfilling.
"So, what say you, James? Sirius? Do you wish to continue the great legacy started by our founder Godric Gryffindor?" Gideon says, voice no higher than a whisper.
James and Sirius's faces are comically slack as they stare somewhat vacantly at their heroes.
"Well, fuck me," Sirius breathes.
"What he means," James says with some authority, gathering his courage and setting his shoulders, "is yes. We would be honored."
Sirius nods dumbly.
"I was hoping that wasn't another proposition, Black." Gideon answers, clearing his throat. "Seeing as it wasn't and that you two lads have chosen wisely, you know we're not really ones for tradition, rules et cetera, but seeing as this is nearly a thousand years old, we're a bit superstitious as to fiddling with procedure."
"Bit superstitious, you know." Fabian comments. "So before we can bequeath to you our wealth of knowledge, there is one thing that the inductees must do."
Before either can ask, Gideon says, "You must prove yourselves worthy. Pass the test and the gates of wisdom burst open, fail and... well, I guess a thousand years of history goes to die."
"We would like to see, at the end of this week, an interpretation of 'Killer Queen.' Interpret it any way you like, the more outlandish the better. You're trying to impress us, you have to remember." Fabian adds. "Remember it was us who did the epic prank of Christmas '75, traumatizing first years away from Fizzing Whizbees for the rest of their lives."
"It seems so long ago." Gideon says nostalgically. "Anyway, that is your challenge. And remember, a thousand years of tradition, maybe laying foundations for your children to continue this legacy."
"Dad was so proud to hear this." Fabian nods. "Well boys, we have to go. I've got a girlfriend to snog."
"Setting up next month's prank." Gideon says, and rather unceremoniously, the lanky pair of gingers gather up their things and start to leave. "Oh, and boots polishing, we'll take the boots polishing offer, Potter. Ta."
James scratches his head, which Sirius takes to mean "I am terrified of failure," to which Sirius replies by removing his Aviators and placing them atop his head.
Quite rightly, James interprets this as "fuck fuck fuck, me too."
They take off for their dormitory at a full sprint, arms flailing the whole way.
---
"No, absolutely not."
James is standing square in the middle of their dorm, acting as Sirius's style model. If Lily were to walk into the room, James is quite sure that she would assume that all these years he had been chasing after her in order to hide his latent homosexuality, and toss him aside for someone not wearing a skintight jumpsuit.
A skintight jumpsuit with sequins. Rainbow sequins. James wonders vaguely if Sirius isn't trying to tell him something.
He folds his arms awkwardly and glares at Sirius. "I agreed to the jumpsuit because you know, Freddie. Nothing wrong with that."
"It's really rather fetching," Sirius cracks encouragingly.
"And you can't really have the jumpsuit without a feather boa, it really adds to the ensemble, I'm not so thick and useless that I don't realize that."
Sirius nods, urging James to get the fuck on with his point.
"And this wig sort of reminds me of Jimmy Page, who I know Lily sort of fancies, even though she'd never admit it," James says, momentarily going into a daze at the thought of his lady-love.
"Prongs, so help me..."
"DO WE REALLY HAVE TO WEAR MAKEUP, PADFOOT?" James bursts out with a yell, flushing slightly.
"It's not makeup, it's just eyeliner. And yes, yes we do, so stop fucking whining about it. Remember, Prongs. The tradition. The pranks. The wisdom. We have to go all out for this."
James nods solemnly. "You're right. It is the Freddie way."
"It is the Gryffindor way," Sirius corrects him.
James waves a hand impatiently. "Same thing."
Sirius grins and waves the eyeliner that he pilfered from Alice. "Shall we practice?"
"I really do hate you."
---
The common room, at the end of the week, looked less like extra study space and more like a small concert venue. The two oldest and most plush chairs were set atop a table with an 'F' and 'G' on top. All of Gryffindor house were milling about the room, and to say there was a buzz of excitement was an understatement as it was Gryffindor after all, it was more like a dozens of yells of excitement.
"I'm telling you, Gid, she was making eyes at you." Fabian says, buying a bottle of butterbeer from an enterprising fourth year. "Go snog her within an inch of her life."
"Godric is not happy with you." Gideon says, surveying the crowd.
"You're too serious, which is why you need the snog. I'm always relaxed because-"
Gideon escapes the conversation by hopping up onto the table. "GRYFFINDOR! I hope you're enjoying this little shindig my brother and I have put together. Our many thanks and apologies for the pain we've caused you through the years." The chatter and yelling subsides and Gideon continues, Fabian joining him on the table to sit in the appropriately marked chair. "We have some very special entertainment for you this evening-"
"Is it Rolling Stones?" A voice calls out.
"Shut it, Davis." Fabian warns.
"It's not the Stones." Gideon says excitedly. "It's something much... much better."
Standing close to the makeshift stage, Remus and Peter are whispering furiously.
"I saw a glimpse of them before I came out, and well, Wormtail. They look absurd. We can't really let them go through with this, can we?" Remus asks, already feeling the beginnings of a My Friends Are Lunatics headache.
"Are you mad? They'll make fools of themselves, it will be brilliant. It is our duty as Marauders to let them," Peter insists.
Remus decides that Peter is probably right, and reminds himself where their hidden stash of Firewhisky is. It will be needed later, he knows.
There is a crash, and then James and Sirius step out into the common room, going to stand in front of the Prewett Brothers on their "thrones."
They are wearing jumpsuits, elaborately large wigs (which look oddly dashing on Sirius, but just this side of frightening on James), eyeliner, and feather boas wound with meaning around their necks. Their expressions are uncharacteristically serious.
Somewhere in the back of the room, Lily bangs her head lightly against the stone wall.
"Good men and women," Sirius announces loudly. "We come before you humbly with nothing more than our reputations as Gryffindors and our great love for our house..."
"We have come to honor tradition and the geniuses that have come before us," James continues, even as he wonders if he should follow that age old adage and picture the audience in their underwear.
"But enough waffling," Sirius interrupts. "Let the music play!"
A quickly muttered charm later and Queen's Killer Queen is filling the room from Remus's enchanted gramophone.
The smirk on Gideon's face hides behind his hand while Fabian takes this as an opportunity to set down the butterbeer that he KNEW he would spit out at some point. Gideon leans over to his brother and says "They really don't have to do any more than this-"
"-but why stop them?" Fabian grins.
"Fair point." Gideon answers.
It is clear that Sirius, the main showman of the duo, has taken upon it himself to direct the dancing. It begins with an elaborate flailing of the arms, as both boys belt out the song off-key along with the record.
Sirius then with an elaborate readjustment of his boa, leads James into what have once been the tango.
"Playful as a pussycaaaaaaaaaaaaaat," Sirius warbles.
Remus hides his face in his hands. "Tell me they didn't just do a two-man kick-line."
"All right, I won't tell you," Peter tells him agreeably, his face splitting in amusement.
Towards the end of the song, the rest of Gryffindor begins to realize that they are actually attempting to flutter their unusually accented eyelashes in time with the song.
A few idly wonder if they should book two new beds in the St. Mungos mental ward.
James strikes a final pose, looking for all the world as if he's trying to imitate a Muggle gymnast. With a final exaggerated turn of Sirius's hips, they shout "YOU WANNA TRYYYYY."
The music stops.
Years worth of detention and stern talking-to's from McGonagall have made The Prewetts very good at keeping a straight face. Gideon sits back in his chair and Fabian mirrors him, arms folded. All eyes move from the outlandishly dressed sixth years to the two uncharacteristically quiet Scalawags of Somerset.
Gideon inhales and slowly stands up and claps. Very very slowly. Fabian joins him. "Well done." He says and decides to prolong their suffering. "It was, erm, avant-garde what with the makeup style-"
"Avant garde is good though." Fabian adds. "Cutting edge."
"Tell me, did you have to research those makeup charms, or did you know them already?" Gideon asks the two.
James shifts awkwardly and looks pointedly at Sirius.
Sirius juts his chin out stubbornly. "A good prankster is prepared for any possible scenario, m'lord."
"Explains the feather boas." Fabian mutters to Gideon. "Yes, I'll agree with Gideon here. Good show, boys." He sits back in his chair and waves at the same enterprising fourth year, beckoning for a drink.
Satisfied, yet wondering why no one was applauding, Gideon looks at the rest of the house. "Did any of you want to follow them up?" Silence. "Then why the HELL aren't you applauding?" The house awkwardly starts to clap with Gideon leading enthusiastically. Soon someone overtakes the gramophone and starts the Queen album from the very beginning and Gideon beckons James and Sirius to step forward.
"Now that everyone is sufficiently preoccupied," Gideon says seriously, "Fabian and I would like to take this time to pass the torch onto you. In case you hadn't noticed, we've pranked every month this year, we have nothing scheduled for June."
"Out with old in with the new, and we'd like to be here to see the changing of the guard, so to speak." Fabian grins.
"YES!" James and Sirius shout in unison and proceed to do a shimmy of victory.
"All our secrets will be your secrets and we'll tell you the procedure and everything. But you know, pre-exams party, enjoy yourselves." Gideon says dismissively, sitting back in his self-made throne.
---
It was no secret that the antics of one James Potter and one Sirius Black would go down in Gryffindor history as the most outlandish interpretation of a Queen song (yes, this does imply there were more). What was secret and will remain as such were the pearls of wisdom that their interpretation made them privy to.
And on one fateful afternoon in June as McGonagall escorted Sirius and James to her office, Gideon and Fabian, witness to the prank along with half the school, gave the boys a nod of the head. And, well, Gideon mouthed 'Firewhisky, 7th year boys dorms.'
The legacy continues on.