A/N: Heh, so I have loved this particular speech/song for years. It's got some of the greatest stuff in it, and this morning I decided I was going to make it into a nifty songfic. Now, this is not just an ordinary songfic thingy, oh no. It's got all different clips that I invented from all different characters in different settings. Heh, the floss one was the hardest, but I got it eventually. The speech is said by Baz Luhrmann, the director guy, and it pwns.
As usual, the italics are the lyrics and the regular font is the story, just in case you have a hard time distinguishing.
Disclaimer: I own nothing… nothing at all... not even Harry Potter
Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '99. Wear Sunscreen.
Ginny plopped down in the backyard of the Burrow, a tube in her hand. She stretched out on a towel and poured some of the stuff from the tube onto her outstretched palm. Harry suddenly appeared at her side and dropped down onto the towel with her.
"What are you doing?"
If I could offer only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.
The long-term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists, whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.
I will dispense this advice, now.
"I'm putting on sunscreen," Ginny replied, and Harry laughed.
"Sunscreen? I didn't know people even used that still," Harry replied.
She gave him a slap on the shoulder and he grabbed the spot she had struck, hissing with pain.
"Sunburn…" Harry said, and Ginny raised her eyebrows.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth.
Oh never mind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they've faded.
But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now, how much possibility lay before you and fabulous you really looked.
You are NOT as fat as you imagine.
Ron was sitting cross-legged on his bed, pouring over his pictures. The door opened and Hermione joined him, wrapping her arms around his neck and placing her chin on top of his head.
"What are you doing, Ron?" Hermione asked, leaning over him to see what he was doing.
Ron held up a picture and Hermione took it carefully. She let out a tiny gasp and brought the picture closer to her face so she could examine it better.
"Oh Ron, look at us! We were so little…" Hermione said, laughing slightly.
"You really did look fabulous, you know," Ron said, picking up another picture. "Haha, look, this was in seventh year, after the wedding."
Hermione took the second picture and placed the first one gently down on the bed.
"Wow," Hermione breathed. "I'd forgotten about that. That dress did look nice, didn't it? I thought it was terrible at the time."
"You are not as fat as you imagine, Hermione," Ron said in a jesting voice, but Hermione knew what he was saying.
"Not then, maybe," Hermione said, and Ron placed a hand on her bulging stomach.
"That's not fat," Ron said. "That's Ron junior in there."
Don't worry about the future. Or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve and algebra equation by chewing bubble gum.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4 PM on some idle Tuesday.
Molly paced back and fourth in the kitchen, her soup boiling on the stove as she cast a nervous glance at her clock. Arthur limped into the room, looking extremely tired. Molly gave a squeal and ran over to him, embracing him.
"Oh Arthur, I thought something terrible had happened!" Molly exclaimed. "Is everyone alright? Where are they?"
"They're all safe, Molly, don't worry," Arthur said, pausing to wipe a tear from his wife's face. "It's all over…"
Do one thing everyday that scares you.
"You want me to what?" James said in disbelief.
"Skydive. I want you to come skydiving with me," Lily replied with a smile.
"Someone left the cake out in the rain," George sang into a wooden spoon at the Burrow.
"And I don't think that I can take it, 'cause it took so long to bake it," Fred continued.
"And I'll never have the recipe again!" Fred and George belted out together.
Ron came walking into the kitchen, looking frustrated.
"Will you two shut it, please? I'm trying to write a letter!"
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts.
Don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Remus sighed. He hadn't really wanted that job anyway, he told himself. Now, if he could only find a way to get Umbridge impeached…
Ginny unwrapped the gift and found that it was a little white box. She opened it quizzically and saw a white string poking out of the end of it.
"Uhm, thanks, Luna," Ginny said, giving the string a tug. "What is it, exactly?"
"It's dental floss!" Luna exclaimed.
"Oh," Ginny said. "Why do I need floss? I've got magic, you know. No offence or anything, it's lovely, but I don't understand…"
"Oh no, don't worry. Its special floss made to protect you from Crumple-horned Snorkacks!"
"Aha," Ginny said, now studying the little box. "Well, that was very thoughtful of you…"
Don't waste your time on jealousy. Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind.
The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.
Ron pounded his fist into his palm, infuriated with everyone. Krum had been bad enough, but McLaggen? McLaggen? What was she playing at, anyway? That was way, way, way below the belt, as far as Ron was concerned. It looked like the Ron and Hermione friendship legacy was over. Officially. He kicked the wall, hard, but only succeeded in stubbing his toe.
Remember compliments you receive.
Forget the insults.
If you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Severus pulled on his cloak and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. Words like "Snivellus" and "git" came to mind. Maybe they had been right, maybe he was a git. After all, he had done some mighty terrible things.
He sighed, stepped in full-length of the mirror, and straightened his collar. He winced as a terrible burning pain ran through his left arm.
He pulled back his sleeve and sighed, lamenting his freedom and reliving his choices.
"Not again," he muttered bitterly. "Third time today."
Keep your old love letters.
Throw away your old bank statements.
"What have you got there, Hermione?"
Hermione quickly shoved the love letter she had received in seventh year from Ron under her pillow and pulled out an old bank statement. She handed it to Ron, who quickly glanced over it.
"Why do you have this?" Ron asked.
"Actually, I was just throwing it out," Hermione said, tossing it into the rubbish.
Ron caught sight of a worn parchment and pulled it out from under Hermione's pillow. His mouth dropped open and he quickly placed it back under his pillow as if he hadn't read it.
"I can't believe you kept that," He said, and exited the room, his ears reddening.
Remus rotated his head around in a circle, for his muscles were still tight from his last transformation. James tapped him on the shoulder and Remus turned around in his chair.
"Can't wait for next month, eh?" James whispered.
Remus massaged his neck gingerly.
"Speak for yourself, Prongs."
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life.
The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives.
Some of the most interesting forty-year-olds I know still don't.
"But, Professor McGonagall, if I don't decide what I want to do now –" said a frantic Hermione, pouring over a dozen or so Ministry pamphlets.
"Then you have your whole life to figure it out!" McGonagall said. "Now, if you would please, Miss Granger, you've been in my office for two hours and I would like some sleep."
Get plenty of calcium.
Mrs. Weasley placed a towering glass of milk in front of a nine-year-old Bill.
"Mum, do I have to drink all of this?" Bill whined. "I hate milk."
"But Bill, you need calcium and it will make your hair so nice and long," Mrs. Weasley lied in a motherly voice.
"Yes, now drink it."
"Okay, I guess…"
Bill downed the whole glass without another complaint. He sighed and placed the empty cup back down on the table with his hands still wrapped around it.
"Is my hair longer yet, Mum?"
"Yes, Bill dear, it's getting there."
Be kind to your knees; you'll miss them when they're gone.
Tonks was waiting at the bottom of the stairs for Remus. She tapped her foot, looked at her watch, and finally saw him running down the stairs as fast as he could, pulling his cloak on. He got to the bottom step and his knees gave out. Remus gave an exclamation and fell forward, but Tonks slipped her arms under his and caught him.
"Hey! You slipped instead of me!" Tonks pointed out, laughing.
"Yes, well, my knees are much older and worn than yours," Remus said, untangling himself from Tonks and holding the front door open for her.
"After you, ma'am," Remus said, bowing.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't.
Maybe you'll divorce at 40.
Maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary.
Harry shook the bottle of champagne and popped it open so that it exploded, sending froth everywhere.
"Happy 75th anniversary to Ron and Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, and then pointed to the DJ.
The DJ pressed a button and the funky chicken blasted out of the magically enlarge speakers. Ron approached Hermione and held out his hand.
"May I have this dance?" Ron asked.
"Oh Ron, you really haven't changed since we were in school," Hermione said, taking his hand so he could lead her to the dance floor.
Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much, or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance.
So are everybody else's.
Draco couldn't feel proud, no matter what he said to himself. He knew what he had done by accepting the Dark Lord's task. Then again, he realized, he hadn't really been offered a choice.
Enjoy your body, use it every way you can... don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it... it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
"Hey Dean, look what I learned to do over the summer," Neville exclaimed, then dropped into a perfect split.
Dean winced and Seamus laughed.
"You are one twisted, sick man, Neville," Dean said, shaking his head with amusement.
"How much practice did that take?" Seamus asked.
"Lots, I guess."
Dance... even if you have nowhere else to do it but in your own living room.
Harry walked into his sitting room to see Ginny dancing in tune with the wireless. He chuckled and she spun around, blushing.
"Sorry," Ginny quickly said.
"For what?" Harry asked, stepping forward.
He took her in his arms and dipped her like a tango dancer.
"Care if I join?"
Ginny grinned and snatched a rose off the nearby table, placing it between her teeth.
"Not at all."
Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
Tonks sat on the floor of her home, agonizing over a mass of poles and plastic. Remus came into the room, walked over, and picked up a white slip of paper.
"Having trouble, Nymphadora?"
Tonks looked up and pulled a face.
"You wouldn't believe, Remus," Tonks said. "I can't even assemble a stupid baby crib.
Remus held out the slip of paper and she took it. She read it over and laughed slightly.
"Heh, directions. Fancy that," She said, trying to hide her flushing.
Do NOT read beauty magazines they will only make you feel UGLY.
Ginny sat in a cozy armchair, reading the latest issue of Beauty Witch. Harry walked by, snatched the magazine out of her hands, and tossed it into the rubbish. He left the room without a backward glance or a word.
"Harry, how many times have I had to tell you? I'm just reading the articles!"
Get to know your parents; you never know when they might be gone for good.
Ron stomped his foot angrily on the ground.
"Why can't you just both leave me alone and get out of my life?" Ron shouted, and turned to leave.
Then Ron suddenly remembered Harry, sitting in front of the Mirror of Erised. All Harry wanted in the world was his family, and here was Ron, telling his parents to get out of his life. Ron stopped, slowly turned around, and saw the slightly hurt look on his parents' faces.
"Mum, Dad, I didn't mean it," Ron said quietly. "I'm sorry."
Molly hugged her youngest son.
Be nice to your siblings; they're your best link to your past, and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
"Regulus, listen to me," Sirius said. "You don't have to join Voldemort just because Mum wants you to. Come on, move out with me, and we can start over."
Regulus wrenched his wrist out of his brother's grasp.
"No! I'm not going with you. After this is all over you'll understand. You'll look back and say, 'Hey, Regulus was right to join the Dark Lord. He's much better off than I am!'"
Regulus stomped away, leaving a shocked and slightly hurt Sirius behind.
"Fine," Sirius spat. "It's your funeral."
Understand that friends come and go, except for the precious few you should hold on.
Harry awoke with a start, his head leaning against the wall of the cave he had been sleeping in. The Horcrux hunt was going well, but they had been extra careful not to be discovered.
"Oh, right," Harry thought. "It was just a dream."
He jumped slightly as he heard someone snore next to his ear, and found that Ron had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Hermione's head was in Ron's lap, and Harry smiled slightly to himself. Somehow he knew that no matter what happened, he would always have Ron and Hermione there right beside him – even if it was for something as simple as sharing body heat in a cold cave.
Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle, because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Hermione stepped out of the fireplace and dusted her robes off. Bulgaria had been nice, Krum had been a good host, but she was glad to be back home. She pulled her suitcase out of the fireplace and dragged it up the stairs.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard.
Live in Northern California once, but, leave before it makes you soft.
"Where is Percy these days, anyway?" Ron asked, shoving another bite of steak into his mouth.
Charlie crossed the room and pointed to a spot on the map that Ron had been looking at.
" New York?" Ron said incredulously.
"No, that's California, you thickhead!" Charlie said, laughing.
"Well they all look the same to me," Ron replied moodily, swallowing his steak and helping himself to some potatoes.
"But Hermione, we can't go to China!" Ron protested, arms stretched out in exasperation.
Hermione threw a cloak at him and flicked her wand. The cloak folded itself and placed itself into Ron's suitcase.
"And why not, Ron?" Hermione asked, bustling about.
"Because I don't know how to ask where the loo is in Chinese!"
Accept certain inalienable truths.
Prices will rise, Politicians will philander, and you too will get old.
And when you do, you'll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders.
"That's funny," Snape said darkly to himself as he examined a barrel of frog eyes at the apothecary. "Prices were so much less when I was a kid."
On his way out of the store he passed by Cornelius Fudge.
"And politicians had much more spine," He added bitterly.
Respect your elders.
James and Sirius darted out of sight, absolutely howling with laughter. Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and took the 'anonymous' love letter off her door before adding it with the others.
Don't expect anyone else to support you.
Maybe you'll have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse;
But you never know when either one might run out.
Slughorn sighed and re-read the letter he had just received. It wasn't possible, he thought, but it had happened. Every single one of his trust funds had run out. He blinked several times before allowing realization to click.
Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.
Lily ran her fingers through her fiery hair and groaned in aggravation. James appeared in the doorway, laughed, and walked over to Lily. He gently pried her fingers from her hair before she could rip it out, and looked at her quizzically.
"I hate my hair, James, I really do," Lily said. "It never does what I want, not even with magic."
James bent over and placed his chin on her shoulder, both of them looking into the mirror in front of them.
"I think your hair is lovely," James said to Lily's reflection. "Just like the rest of you."
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.
Advice is a form of nostalgia; dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts, and recycling it for more than it's worth.
"Well, Harry, if you want my opinion, I'd just say not to turn her down," Remus said calmly, staring into the flames. "I mean, she's probably not going to let up on you, so why not give in? A little more love in this world never hurt anybody."
"I guess you're right," Harry said slowly, staring into the fire as well.
Somehow, Harry thought, Remus was speaking from experience.
But trust me on the sunscreen.
Harry grinned sheepishly and sat up on the beach towel he was sharing with Ginny. She looked at him and gave him a quizzical stare.
"What?" She said.
"Could I possibly borrow some of that sunscreen?" Harry asked quietly.
Ginny sat up, smiled, and handed it to him.
"You need me to help you apply it on your back?" Ginny asked, smirking slightly.
"Er, yeah, that would be great," Harry said uncertainly.
Ginny laughed as Harry turned his back, which was sporting a new burn, to her. She uncapped the tube and squeezed some of the lotion onto her palm, then ran her hand over Harry's back and shoulders.
"Harry, I'm wrong about a lot of things. But trust me, on the sunscreen."
A/N: And there you go. One of the best speeches of all time, turned into a songfic. Or it is speechfic? The world may never know.