All the stories suck tonight so I'm writing my own one-shot songfic. It's probably also crap, but enjoy anyways.
And review, if not to admire my genius then to criticize my idioticness. (can you believe that's not a word?)
The song is Black Velvet, by Alannah Myles, as it has plagued my thought for hours on end today.
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters in this one-shot, nor do I own the song accompanying it. Admire Rowling and Myles for their genius; and me for the plot.
---------------------------------------------------Enjoy the Show!----------------------------------------------------------
Bored. So bloody bored with nothing to do. Nothing. So how exactly Draco Malfoy found himself at a nightclub in the heart of Muggle-London, he didn't know.
Draco entered The Cling (appropriately named for the style of dance that took place there) warily and took a seat at the bar.
"Hey, Buddy Holly, you're in my seat." A man growled near Draco. Malfoy glanced around, looking for this Buddy, hoping for a brawl
"Hey, kid! Move it!" the man grabbed Draco by the scruff of his collar and yanked him off his seat and to the ground. The brunette hanging on the arm of the man laughed in an incessant high-pitched manner.
Draco glared at the man indignantly as he stood and brushed himself off.
"My name isn't Buddy. It's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy; and you had better think twice about placing your hands on me, as well as treating your superiors in such a manner." He hissed quickly.
The man left his seat and stood tall in front of Draco. "Superior, eh? I'll teach you a thing or two about superiority." He growled cracking his knuckles in, what was supposed to be at least, a threatening manner.
Draco huffed and rolled his eyes. The man grabbed Draco's shirt with one hand and drew the other back.
"Not in here boys. Take it outside." The man and Draco turned to the bartender. The man growled and dropped Draco to the ground for the second time that night, and Draco gave the bartender the most respectful nod he could ever give a muggle.
Draco moved down a few feet and occupied another seat.
"Better watch yourself around here, kid." The bartender leaned over to him. "I don't fancy making guys like that mad at me that often. What'll it be?"
Draco rubbed his temples. "Butterbeer."
"A what?" the bartender called over the rock music that had just roared to life.
Malfoy could have slapped himself. A Butterbeer? How stupid could he be?!?
So, copying the only muggle western movie he'd only seen he replied: "The usual, Johnny, I've had a rough day."
The bartender gave him an odd look. Too odd. "My name's Mark." He pointed to his nametag. "And what exactly would 'the usual' be? I've never seen you here before."
Bloody hell. "Slow gin fizz." He sighed. The bartender nodded and began to prepare his drink.
Draco focused his attention on the band that was playing now. They had a nice style, for muggles. The song was an interesting one, explaining how horrible this guy's life was, and how no one else could possibly feel that way.
"Who is this, playing?" he asked after a moment.
"Some new group. Call themselves Simple Plan. Personally I don't think they'll amount to anything."
Draco nodded absentmindedly as they band finished and left the stage.
"Where are they going?"
"It's open mic night. Anyone who wants to sing can do so by signing up over there." The bartender pointed to a table set up to the left of the stage. "We got a karaoke machine and everything."
"Interesting."
(-Certainly)
(-Rather)
(-Quite)
(-Noticeably)
(--Note-- this is an inside joke between my friends and I)
The music started up again and a woman got up on stage. Her back was turned from the audience. As she started singing, she turned.
Mississippi in the middle of a dry spell
Jimmy Rogers on the victrola up high
Mama's dancing with baby on her shoulder
The Sun is setting like molasses in the sky.
The spotlights shining upon her illuminated the slinky black dress she wore, but completely shadowed her face, leaving her identity a mystery.
The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything.
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for,
Black velvet and that little boy smile
Black velvet with that slow southern style
A new religion that'll bring you to your knees
Black velvet if you please.
As she sang on through the chorus she moved off-stage, and over to a group of men, singing seductively to them.
"Who is that?" he called to the bartender, his eyes never leaving the stranger.
"Don't recall her name. She comes in every week though, dressed to kill and singing it up to all the chaps. Never seems to leave with anyone though…"
Up in Memphis the music's like a heat wave
White lightning, bound to drive you wild.
Mama's baby's in the heart of every school girl
"Love me tender" leaves 'em cryin' in the aisle
The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true.
Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for,
Black velvet and that little boy smile
Black velvet with that slow southern style
A new religion that'll bring you to your knees
Black velvet if you please.
Draco watched her as she slinked over to the bar, and in his general direction.
Every word of every song that he sang was for you.
In a flash he was gone, it happened so soon,
What could you do?
She was singing to him now, and it took a second for Malfoy to realize that it was Hermione Granger in the slinky black dress with the 'come hither' look in her eyes.
She grinned as he stared stupidly at her. She was playing with him. That outraged him, though he couldn't seem to bring the emotion to show on his face.
Black velvet and that little boy smile
Black velvet with that slow southern style
A new religion that'll bring you to your knees
Black velvet if you please.
Black velvet and that little boy smile
Black velvet with that slow southern style
A new religion that'll bring you to your knees
Black velvet if you please.
...If you please
If you please
Hermione was back on the stage, replacing the microphone.
"Hey, you gonna pay me sometime tonight?"
"Huh? Oh sorry." Draco turned to the bartender. His mouth dropped as he realized that he had ordered a drink without actually meaning to. He didn't have any muggle money with him…bloody hell…
Draco opened his mouth to mutter this and preparing to bolt when someone dropped a piece of paper on the bar next to his drink. Draco recognized it as a 10 pound bill (is that correct? I know nothing about currency) from a picture in hisMuggle Studiesbook. That same low voice whispered in his ear. "It's on me."
Draco met Hermione's gaze wordlessly.
Hermione gave him a half-smile. Her hand brushed against his shoulder as she walked away. "Goodnight, Malfoy."
Well that ought to get him off my case. Hermione smirked as she made her way out to her car. Bloody git deserves to have his mind messed with…
---------------------------------------------------Did you enjoy the show?--------------------------------------------------
Ahem So? Like it? Hate it? Review either way!
CAUTION: THIS IS A ONE-SHOT FIC. ONE. SHOT. MEANING NO NEXT CHAPTER AND NO SEQUEL! ANYONE WHO ASKS FOR EITHER WILL FIND THEMSELVES ADMITTED TO ST. MUNGO'S BEFORE THEY CAN SAY MIMBULUS MIMBLETONIA!