For Andy, for her work in Year 3 Round Two of the Houses Competition. This was so much fun, thank you.
Based on the "Bennie and The Jets" song by Elton John. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle. Otherwise known as Draco and The Jets, the music group who bring joy to the masses with their bell-bottomed mohair suits and electronic sounds, covering 70s pop hits. Told by an anonymous author.
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"Are you ready for the next act?" the presenter called to the crowd, his glittering suit catching the bright disco lights and flickering into our eyes. We screamed back at him. My feathered sleeves fluttered with the pulsating noise from the crowd. "Keep it loose, shake your tail feathers, for Draco and The Jets!"
The spotlight suddenly burst into light, directing our attention to one space on the stage, where we assumed the act would come out into. Draco Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle, otherwise known as Draco and The Jets. If you see them, you might not expect them to be so brilliantly electric and talented, especially at their act. As soon as the spotlight hits, it's like you know a storm is coming - like those people who know when a storm is coming because they have a horrendous headache. But this was different. It was magic.
"Have you seen these guys before?" I asked the kindly couple beside me. They didn't respond, infatuated with the strobe light, spaced out with drugs, alcohol, and the glorious period we were living in.
Draco and The Jets had become strangely famous - they performed at fundraisers and various competitions, more for the enjoyment of the crowd than anything else. Draco was quietly eccentric throughout his life until someone suggested that him and the other two compete in their high school charity talent contest. From that point, we were all exposed to their weird and wonderful ways. They'd even been in the magazines, labelled as most entertaining, reminiscent of glittering times.
Draco made everyone feel comfortable and, more importantly, alive.
The electric music burned to life through the too-loud speakers, throwing us all backwards into the void. It was the sound of a guitar to start with, a churning melody. Then it was a bass, thumbing its way through the low notes. And finally, Draco's voice, calling for noise, claiming the levels of entertainment would rise tenfold. Then and there, he was a superstar. Then and there, the three of them stormed onto the stage, dressed in the full garb as usual. Bell-bottomed mohair suits, paired with holographic, light-up boots that sparkled like childish delight.
"Let's turn it up to eleven, tonight!" Draco hollered into the microphone, nodding his head along to the base notes of the first song. "And make this charity some fucking money!"
He so obviously loved the performance.
That was back then. Before the crowds were too much, and the music blared more loudly than the spirit in their voices. Before the media disrupted everything, and life got on top of everything else. Things were difficult for a while - people fought on the streets, strobe lights blinded, we played music to remind us of better times.
Even in all this, Draco and The Jets kept on at the fundraisers, they kept going. We all needed it. By God, I love - loved - Draco so much, for being there for the crowds and the hoards even though he was struggling. He wanted to be the light-hearted entertainment everyone could turn to, if they needed a reminder that luck and music would be on their side. That he and The Jets would always be around to parade in their weird, wonderful, mohair suits, and to kill the fatted calf with enough booze to drown the Titanic.
For him, the music never lost its soul, and the crowd never lost their love for him. Not even if the crowd had no idea who they were - he always told me that the party was in the people, not in who the people were.
He filled the stage, every time. Blasting out the electric music, a solid wall of sound thrown against us.
I loved him, I love him. My God, I love him for the good vibes and the great entertainment.
Draco and The Jets. Bringing the tears of joy to stop you from drowning in misery.
He'll still be in my heart, even when he's not playing through the speakers anymore.
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Thanks for reading!
