Bolero

"What's that?"

"It's Ravel."

"What?"

"Ra-vel, Potter, don't you know anything? And you're the Muggle."

*silence, listening, pondering*

"...do you...like it?"

"Well, I'm not listening to it because it makes the hair on my chest grow."

*gulp*

"It's...strange."

"You're right. Ravel called it a piece for orchestra without music."

"Huh?"

"He was joking."

"Oh." *tiny chuckle*

"You've really never heard this? It's famous."

"My family doesn't exactly appreciate high culture." *beat, listening* "I like the drums."

"Ah, yes. Everyone likes the drums. Except perhaps the drummers." *beat, hesitating* "Listen. Hear how the melody just keep repeating itself over and over again?"

*a bit warily* "Yeah."

"That's it. That's all it does, just repeats for a long long time and changes a couple of keys. He wrote it as an orchestration exercise. He hated the piece, can you imagine? And it's his most famous work. Fascinating."

*uncertainly* "But...why do *you* like it?"

"I like it for the layers."

"What?"

"The texture of the instruments. Orchestration means how music is put together--who plays what part. Look--"

"Hey, give me back my wand!"

"I'm not going to jinx you, I'm going to show you. Here--"

"What are you--oh...I feel like a conductor."

"That's the idea."

"Do you have to stand right by my elbow?!"

"Just relax, you idiot. Why they don't teach music appreciation at this craphole is beyond me..."

"You can never just be nice, can you?"

"Shut up and listen."

*fidgeting, relaxing gradually; listening to the music*

"There...at the bottom layer, hear it? Look--I'll conduct it with you. Close your eyes." *soft wooshing sound* "Do you hear how soft--in the background...?"

*hesitantly* "...that's...the brass?"

"That's the brass. Hear how they're with the drums? So...light and steady. They don't do anything, just that, but they get louder...and louder..."

*nodding slowly* "Yeah...along with the...what are the drums called again? ...the, you know, the big ones?"

"You mean Timpanis?" *nod* "Very good, Potter. I'm impressed."

"Shhh..."

*music continues to build*

*softly* "Now the middle layer..straight across, hear it? The horns. They're with the snare. Put-putta-pa-tut-tut--" *more whooshing*

*smiling* "Yes, I hear them."

"...What?"

"You were tapping the rhythm on my arm."

"Oh."

"Didn't realize it?"

"Sorry."

"...it's okay."

"..."

"The rods are nice."

*staring*

"...I mean the reeds!"

*swallowing anxiously* "Um. Right. The, um, woodwinds."

"Right."

...

"Is that...a saxophone?"

"Again, very good. You're at the top layer now."

"I didn't think they had saxophones in orchestras."

"They don't generally. This one is one of the more famous moments when
they do. Do you hear all the colors behind it?"

"Mmm. Kind of...warm...primary colors."

"...Yes."

"...and kind of...sweet."

"and sexy."

*blinking*

"Don't you think saxophones are sexy?"

*gulping* "I never really--"

"Come on, Potter, listen to that."

*beat*

"That's sex."

"..."

*beat*

*faintly* "Anyway. That's your musical lesson for today." *feet shuffling*

*low voice* "Wait."

*startled* "Why?"

"You said something about them getting louder earlier. What's that called again?"

"A...a crescendo..."

"Oh...they've been going at it for an awfully long time."

*clearing throat* "Well, Potter, it's a 15-minute piece. It's the world's longest crescendo if you wanna get technical about it."

"You like getting technical."

"I..."

"I guess technically you could say they're building up to a climax."

*blinking; hoarsely* "What?"

"You heard me."

"...you could, but--"

"And technically you could say all these layers of sound are like covers around the melody."

"Yes, but why--"

"--And the incessant rhythm is a lot like a heartbeat--"

"Harry, you're--"

"--and all those hot colors and gradual increases in volume are just symbols of what happens when you make love, so I guess when you say you "like" this piece what you're really saying is you're a horny 16-year--...old..."

*beat*

"You just called me Har--mmph!"

*scrambling, muffled cries*

"what--"

"Will you just bloody shut--mmm...ooh..."

"Mmmm..."

*long beat, frantic small noises*

"..."

"I didn't stop by so you could kiss me, you know."

"Well, Potter, I didn't kiss you so you'd say the first stupid thing that came to mind when I stopped."

*grinning* "I think you stopped too soon."

*beat, nuzzling sounds*

*breaking away* "Hey...hear that?"

"What?"

"The key finally changed."

"..."

"It's about bloody time."

*beat*

"...Yes. It is."

~~~~~

Fine.