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The Motorbike


Sirius put his hands on the handlebars, grasping them, his fingers curved out to the clutch grip and the brake and acceleration grips… legs spread wide over the seat and the hulking bike… James, pale with worry, got on behind him. Sirius cracked his neck, stretching it first one way and then the other, and took a deep breath. He looked about.

“Alright, how do I turn this thing on?”

“Bloody hell -” James made to get off the bike.

“No, no stay - stay James -” Sirius said, “I’m only joking.” He wasn’t entirely… He squeezed the clutch. He did remember that was important from having read his motorbike magazines. And they always showed motorbike riders jumping up on something to start the engine so he looked down at the pedals by his right foot… “Hang on,” he commanded.

James nodded. He was holding onto the seat.

Sirius tried first one of the pedals, jumping up on it… nothing happened… and then the other… fingers tight ‘round the clutch. There was a rumbling attempt at starting from the bike that set the whole thing vibrating. James’s eyes widened and he grabbed tighter to the seat. Part of him hadn’t expected Sirius would figure it out. But then - with a great big jump and the tightest squeeze to the clutch Sirius could give --- the motorbike roared to life, vibrating all over as the engine growled beneath them and Sirius settled into his seat.

“Blimey!” James murmured.

“HERE WE GO!” Sirius shouted over the volume of the bike’s rumbling engine, the most wildest grin he had ever worn played upon his mouth and he released the clutch and the bike lurched forward harshly.

“Oh Merlin. Oh Merlin.” James clutched his seat harder, tightening his knees ‘round the girth of the bike.

Sirius turned the handle bars and the bike turned, moving slowly ‘til they were aimed at the door. He let out a hoot and said, “James… Blast the door open.”

James drew his wand. “Reducto,” he said and the door blasted open and Sirius squeezed the acceleration grip… what he thought was gently… but the bike leaped forward, the engine groaning loudly and James said, “Shift gears! With your foot! You need to be in another gear! Dad’s car does this sound when he forgets to shift!”

So Sirius moved his foot on the pedal and the motorbike leaped forward with even more speed, wobbling recklessly down the hallway toward the doors by the library. They weren’t exactly the front doors, but they would do…

“POTTY WEE POTTER… SNEAKY SNOOPY SIRIUS… WHAT’RE YOU LOT DOOOOING?” Peeves was suddenly zipping up from before them and turning about to hover right alongside them as they rumbled down the hallway, distracted from wherever he’d been headed in such a rush.

“CAN’T YOU SEE, PEEVES? WE’RE CLEARLY UP TO NO GOOD!” Sirius shouted.

“WHAT IN HELL IS GOING ON DOWN THIS CORRIDOR!? PEEEEEVES?” Filch, who had been chasing after Peeves anyway, came running ‘round the corner by the library ahead of them to see the headlight on the motorbike coming toward him - and the two boys upon it. His eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

“Nice night for a ride, we thought,” declared Sirius as they rumbled past him.

“ABSOLUTELY NO DRIVING MUGGLE VEHICLES INSIDE OF DOORS!” Filch shouted, “I’M CERTAIN THERE’S A RULE ON THAT!!!” He turned to run after the motorbike… Peeves hovering behind him cackling and clapping...

Sirius squeezed the accelerator… the bike sped up… the meter on the bike said they were going nearly eight kilometers… and there before them was the doors to the courtyard. “JAMES! THE DOORS!” Sirius yelled.

“Oh right! REDUCTO!”

Filch nearly lost it. “DESTRUCTION OF HOGWARTS PROPERTY! RIDING A MOTORBIKE THROUGH THE HALLWAYS…………. OUT OF BED AFTER HOURS!!!” He ran after them… but the motorbike was picking up speed, the last obstruction gone… ten kilometers… eleve… twelve…

“STOP RIGHT THERE, STOP I SAY!” Filch bellowed.

“HANG ON JAMES!”

James grabbed onto Sirius’s waist, the only thing there was to hang on to…

Fifteen kilometers.

Twenty.

“GET BACK HERE!”

The motorbike roared out the doors and into the courtyard… and Sirius yanked on the bars, assuming the bike would fly like a broomstick would and he was lucky it did for they were hurtling at nearly thirty kilometers now as the front tire lifted off the ground and he turned the handles toward the Bell Towers, the engine roaring.

“SHIFT!” James shouted.

Sirius slammed his foot on the pedal again and the bike lurched forward - quite hard - and accelerated past forty kilometers… riding… up… up…

“BRING THAT MOTORBIKE BACK TO THE GROUND, YOU FILTHY HOODLUMS! YOU NASTY LITTLE CHILDREN!!!”

James’s fists were balled at Sirius’s stomach as they rose up off the ground. “Merlin’s bloody beard!” he cried as the courtyard and Filch and Peeves, who was barely a blur under the moonlight (though it was clear he was spinning and clapping merrily), grew smaller and smaller and the bike shot out from the courtyard, turning ‘round the west Bell Tower…

Derek Bell and Bilius Weasley would’ve got quite a rise out of this, thought James.

“HERE WE GO, PRONGS!” Sirius said and he squeezed the acceleration grip as hard as he could, slamming his foot on the gear pedal and the motorbike jerked and the speed went from the forty kilometers all the way up to a smooth 100 within seconds...

“OHHHHHHHHHH BLOOOOOOOODY HELLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!! SIIIIIIIIRIUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS!!!!!!!!!!!”

Sirius Black was cackling loudly, his long black hair wildly flying in the air, “YESSSSSSS!” he shouted, “WHOOOOOOOOOOO! JAMES! THIS IS IT!! THIS IS WHAT LIFE IS ALL ABOUUUUUUUUT!”

“DYING?!” James screamed.

And off they flew through the air… away from Hogwarts… over Hogsmeade… south… headed for the Lestrange Manor to save their friends.




Frank was still kneeling in the middle of the circle of Death Eaters. They’d put Ali in the cage with Honey Pettigrew, choosing to play with the one that the Dark Lord hadn’t silenced while they waited. The Dark Lord had withdrawn to a private room with Peter and Mopsus, leaving the two spares with his followers. Bellatrix stared at Frank hungrily, like she was a starving, rabid dog, and he was a steak in a butchshop window. She hovered, her spine bent forward and laughed in a manic sort of way as she sing-songed, “Tied up, tied up and nothing to do… Fight us and we’ll kill your shrew…” She cackled and looked over at Ali.

Her mother, Druella, was also circling Frank, her eyes not quite as terrifyingly insane in appearance as Bella’s were but equally dark-lidded, an older, greyer, gaunter version of her daughter. “Your ickle boyfriend’s quite brave, isn’t he?” she talked specifically to Ali, “Look at that face. So put together. And that spine! So straight. Not a tremble about him! You must be very proud, my dear.”

Ali couldn’t make a sound thanks to the silenco Voldemort had cast upon her. She stared at Frank through the bars of the cage with wide, sad eyes.

“How about you show us some respect, little man?” demanded Druella and she waved her wand and Frank felt as though a great hand was pushing on his back until he was forced to bow down, his face nearly touching the floor. Druella laughed cruelly. “That’s more like it.”

“Bow to us, bow to us!” sang Bellatrix.

Druella released his back and Frank sat back upright as soon as he had control of himself, and he straightened his shoulders, staring right at Druella as he did it. She hissed.

“You dare defy us?” Rudolphus Lestrange stepped forward and waved his wand at Frank, angry, “Pugnus.”

It was as though he’d been struck in the mouth by a fist. Frank fell to the left with a great crack of bone… his nose spurted blood that freckled the floor with droplets as he clutched his face, doubled over. Ali’s body struck against the cage with panic, her mouth moving to scream but nothing coming out as she tried again and again to scream Frank’s name. Honey trembled in the back of the cage, having learned long ago it was worse to fight and scream than it was to cower.

Rudolphus waved his wand and Frank was lifted back up to his knees. “Square your shoulders again, boy, go on. Do it. Face me like a man.”

Frank’s hands trembled away from his face, blood pouring over his mouth and chin from his nostrils. “I can’t face you like a man,” he choked the words out, the pain in his face so great it nearly blinded him, “I haven’t got a wand and you’re too much of a coward to give mine back to me… So go on… beat up an unarmed child, if that’s what gets you going. Tell yourself you’re the man here. I suppose that’s what you need to hear to feel as though you’re something less than pathetic…” Frank stared Rudolphus in the eyes. “Go on. Do it again. Strike me again, man.” He said the last word with the thickest contempt.

Rudolphus seethed with anger. “Accio wand!” he shouted and Frank’s wand flew from the table, where Mopsus had laid it. And he looked it over and then turned toward Frank. “Get up.”

Ali was screaming no, waving her hands, but Frank tried very, very hard not to look at her as he struggled to his feet. He tried to remember dueling class, when he’d been paired off against Andy Woodhouse the year before in Defense Against the Dark Arts - one of the brilliant lessons Professor Veigler had held for the Fourth Year students… Rudolphus stepped forward, shoving the wand into Frank’s hand roughly. Frank’s fingers closed ‘round it.

“There. Now that you are properly armed…” Rudolphus said, and without letting Frank so much as brace himself, he swept his wand through the air, “PUGNUS!”

The strike was twice as hard and it sent Frank backwards, crashing into a bookshelf, destroying two shelves, books and silver gadgets flying every which way, including a large goblet with the crest of Hufflepuff etched into it’s side, which struck Frank right on the head before rolling off. Bellatrix let out a shriek and ran after the goblet.

Frank’s left temple smarted and his eye was instantly swollen nearly closed… but he forced himself to his feet… and he stumbled out of the fallen books and raised his wand. as Rudolphus laughed. “You are a stupid boy, aren’t you? Don’t know when you’ve had enough?”

Frank spat a mouthful of blood to the floor, then looked up at Rudolphus who was leering, grinning, laughing… his wife, Bella, hovering and cackling, sing-songing quietly so that Frank couldn’t hear the words she was saying, only the taunting tone of them, and he said, lowly, “I won’t have had enough until I’ve finished you off,” and he raised his wand.