Who Would Have Thought

CHAPTER FIVE: Of Music and Politics

Draco sat in his customary seat on the other side of the room as the band played. A small table with scattered papers sat in front of him. Sometimes he would follow along with the lyrics and hastily scribbled musical notes that were in front of him, but right now he was just listening and watching. In Draco’s opinion they all looked great and somehow the connection they shared as friends had lent itself to their musical ideas and abilities. Even the sketchiest of ideas suggested by any of them would easily be snatched up by the others, smoothed out, and in the next instant Draco would find himself listening to things he never would have thought he and his friends could possibly produce.

It wasn’t until the music suddenly stopped that Draco realized he had drifted off. He looked up to see Ian rubbing his brow wearily. Eric and Kayd didn’t look much better. Since their first gig last week they had been working harder then ever. That setup had led to two more and the dates were fast approaching.

“I don’t know, something just isn’t right with this,” Kayd spoke as he tossed his drumsticks on the table and sat on the couch against the wall.

Eric plopped down next to him, “We are so missing something with this song. Like it’s just waiting to be great if we could just get it right.”

They had been working on the current song on and off for weeks, but no matter how often they stopped to brainstorm, changing a cord here or a word there, it just never seemed to be enough. Yet, despite their failure to get it to where they wanted they always seemed to come right back to it.

“I know the problem,” Ian stated as he sat on the table and looked directly at Draco. “The problem is that you aren’t up there with us.”

“Ian, we’ve talked about this,” Draco said.

“But this is your music Draco. You’re responsible for creating this just as much if not more than we are. It just doesn’t seem right that we stand there and play without you,” Kayd joined in.

Without missing a beat Eric added, “And so what if you can’t play an instrument as well as the rest of us. You can practice and we all damn well know you can sing.”

It was Draco’s turn to sigh and rub his temples as they started in on the same discussion they had had several times before, “What you all seem to keep forgetting is that no matter how well I play or sing I won’t do you any good from my dorm room at Hogwarts.”

“I’ll still be at Durmstrang,” Eric countered.

“Yes, but your parents think your being in a band is cute. You already have permission to return home every weekend to practice. My father would put his foot down at letting me leave school for this.” As before, Draco’s reminder was enough to halt the argument.

They sat silently for a moment before Ian reached out to clasp Draco’s shoulder and said quietly, “It’s only one more year and after that we WILL have you up there with us. Do you hear me Draco Malfoy?”

Draco couldn’t help smile up at Ian, “Yes I hear you, but until then this will be my seat. Got it?”

Ian smiled back, “Absolutely.”

It was only as Ian moved away that Draco saw Kayd and Eric exchange a look. Ian and he had talked about telling their friends about their relationship, but it looked as if the two other boys might already be catching on. Before Draco could contemplate this any further, an Owl swooped into the room from an open window and with a graceful flutter the bird settled itself on the table and held its leg out obediently.

“Its from my father,” Draco said absently, unaware of the frown that had automatically settled itself across his face.

“Maybe we should call it a day mates,” Ian suggested. Kayd and Eric nodded in understanding before waving goodbye and heading for the door. Draco noticed none of this as he read his letter.

My Son Draco,

While I am sure you are enjoying your holiday, I feel it important that we spend some time as a family before the summer is over. On the 20th of August I am planning a small party at the Manor, which I am sure you and your mother will find amusing. You will return home on the 15th in order to get ready for the school year and to prepare for the festivities. The Pierce’s are invited and their invitation has been sent in a separate letter to your mother.

Your Father

“What does he want?” Ian finally asked.

Draco gave a bitter laugh, “He wants to play happy families in front of prominent wizarding society, what else? I have to go home on the 15th because he’s throwing a party. You’re invited by the way.”

“With an invitation like that how could I refuse,” Ian said sarcastically.

Draco stood up and put his arms around Ian’s waist before burying his face in the taller boy’s shoulder, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want this summer to end. Now it’s ending too soon.”

Ian returned the embrace, pulling Draco tightly to him, “Its your last year Draco. After that you’ll never have to worry again. Never again.”


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lucius Malfoy stood in his small potions lab examining a half empty bottle. This was quite possibly the last even remotely questionable item that he owned, or at least that would remain in his home. The Ministry had to be stupid to think he wouldn’t completely dissect his own home in search of any and all illegal magical items and then have them disposed off promptly. He had received a conditional release from the Ministry because there had not been enough evidence to convict him. If at any time evidence became available, he would have a one-way ticket to Azkaban, but not if he had anything to say about it.

The liquid in the glass bottle was crystal clear and had the affect of camouflaging itself to any surface it came into contact with. It was called Iokus oil and its primary use before it was banned had been in the making of invisibility cloaks and potions. It had other uses though, depending on what base ingredients it was mixed with. It could be used for weight lose, fertility, even mild to sever headaches. It had been banned because research was quickly coming up with too many uses for a substance that was almost impossible to trace and could be absorbed through the skin. While there was still no actual dark use for Iokus it had been banned just in case. Stupid fools.

Lucius quickly poured a small amount into a glass already containing a standard headache potion. The Iokus would help the potion work faster and longer. Merlin himself couldn’t force him to give up this ingredient even if the ministry hadn’t re-legalized its use. Headaches were nearly a constant in his life in the past year but with any luck everything would soon improve.

A few short weeks from now, roughly twenty-five well-respected families would be welcomed here and be given free run to explore any and all parts of the Manor. No doubt all the ministry officials attending would tell their wives and daughters to snoop around as much as they could. That would do just fine. Lucius wanted them to snoop. They would find nothing more incriminating than a half empty bottle of Iokus.

To top it off, Lucius would present a picture of his happy family as well as the Malfoy’s close family friends the Pierce’s who were known to have an even better grasp on the lives of muggles than even Arthur Weasley, who was also invited. Lucius intended to introduce Weasley to Holden Pierce very early in the evening. The only hitch in the plan would be his son and especially his wife who had in past years spent more time at the Pierce Estate than at her supposed home. She would suspect what he was up to as soon as she received his letter. He expected a howler would be arriving at any time now.

Even Lucius couldn’t understand why Narcissia hadn’t gone to the ministry to turn him in herself. She had made it clear to him that as long as he was kept the company of ‘those filthy Death Eaters,’ she would see too it that Draco got none of his influence. She had made that promise at the end of their son’s fourth year and had kept is staunchly ever since. Sure, he still had legal authority over his son and Narcissia could not stop him from sending Draco letters, but the time he actually had to see the boy had been minimal at best.

It was as Lucius gulped down the strong headache remedy that he heard footsteps on the stairs. He looked up to see the pudgy face of Sam Bots, a clumsy oaf of a man who he had hired to help him, peering around the corner.

“What is it Bots?”

“Sir, I saw the Ministers carriage approaching the house. I thought you’d want to be prepared,” Bots got out, thankfully without stuttering like he did most of his sentences.

“Have the house elves get the door. I will be up momentarily. Make yourself scarce,” Lucius barely took notice as Bots fumbled his way back up the stairs. He was already pouring another dose of headache potion. He had a feeling he would need it. The Minister visiting before the party was not something he had expected and irritation at his plan not going exactly as he wanted caused Lucius to slam the bottle of Iokus down a little more sharply than he had intended. It was all right though. All darks artifacts had been removed. There was nothing to worry about.

Lucius fixed his robes and set a pleasant look on his face before turning to head up the stairs. He never noticed the crack in the bottle or the contents slowly beading on the outside of the glass before sliding down to the table, starting a slowly growing invisible puddle.