I know it's been awhile. Work and illness have kept me down. Instead of continuing to my intended end-point for this chapter, I decided to post what I have. Don't worry. Things will begin to heat up very soon. Thanks so much for hanging in there with me!
"Stop, stop—seriously—stop!" Marcus waved his bow. "It ain't funk, y'all. Don't slap the string against the fingerboard. Watch how Scorpius plays it." He pointed to Scorpius, who played the phrase, lightly plucking his strings. "See, it's like a whisper. It's a fairy after all. They're delicate and vain, and always preening. If we play it the other way, it's like ripping their wings off." The other students looked at Marcus curiously and Scorpius bit his tongue to hold in a comment about his very accurate description of fairies, but the young concertmaster continued oblivious to their reactions. "Maestro is so going to embarrass us in rehearsal if we keep this up. Let's do it again." The students played the opening bars of The Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy once more.
Draco kept an ear trained to the musicians on the other side of the door as he carefully entered his grades for the week into the computer. He still wasn't very sure of himself, and held his breath each time he found it necessary to employ the machine. His first attempt to use the program for grading and attendance was an unmitigated disaster. It took him three attempts and a desperate call to Harry for assistance, before he ascertained how to properly save and submit his entries before logging out of the program. Draco had learned at the last faculty meeting that they would soon be at midterm, and parents would be checking their students' progress. After auditions, he'd had to field a number of calls and complaints from parents, unhappy about their children's position. Fortunately, his personal experiences with Lucius' machinations in his own education had served to prepare him to respond to them with a certain level of aplomb.
Draco checked his watch and began to gather his belongings, summoning scores and important papers to his attaché before tucking the notebook computer in with them. When he opened the door that separated his office from the orchestra studio, he noted a marked difference in the sound of the selection that the young musicians had been rehearsing.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to observe the positive direction that your music has taken. The pizzicato is light and decidedly more delicate now. This is the sound for which we have been looking. Please make a note of that as you rehearse on your own. Good day."
The students gathered their belongings and made their way to the anteroom to pack up. As Marcus Belton turned to go, Draco noticed an object fall from the boy's folder. He picked up the slim rod of dogwood, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up.
"Mr. Belton, a word, please." Marcus turned back to him, and Draco saw the boy's expression tighten as his face blanched.
"Maestro?"
"I applaud your leadership, young man. Have you ambitions towards a future on the podium?" Draco held the wand out to him.
"Well, I may have given some thought to a career in music."
"I'd like to say that I am flattered. However, I sincerely doubt that my influence has much to do with your goals."
"Oh no, Maestro. I—I am honored to have the opportunity to study with someone of your background."
"Is that so? I was unaware that my reputation preceded me." Draco raised a brow.
"I-I mean—"
"I was wondering," Draco cut across him. "Prior to accepting this teaching post, I'd never actually traveled to America. I understand that it is quite a beautiful place, full of interesting places to visit."
"Well, it's a very large country, sir."
"There is one place of interest that I would certainly like to visit. Have you ever visited Mount Greylock, Massachusetts?"
"S-sir?" Marcus stammered, struggling to maintain his composure.
"I hear the views from the summit are quite stunning." Draco shifted the tone of the conversation, letting the boy off the hook. He'd learned what he needed to know, and he was certain that Marcus had gotten his message. Scorpius entered the studio.
"Dad?"
"Ready to go, son?" Draco smiled. "Keep up the good work, Mr. Belton." He patted Marcus on the shoulder.
"Is everything alright?" Scorpius asked, looking back over his shoulder at Marcus as he hurried from the studio.
"Scorpius, were you aware that young Belton is a wizard?" Draco asked, his voice low. Scorpius gave his father a wary glance.
"Erm…ye-es?"
"And he knows who we are?" It was Draco's turn to look worried. He steered Scorpius back into his office, and closed the door, casting a privacy spell.
"Apparently so—but, Father, I only found out recently and they don't seem to—"
"They?"
"Well, I mean, he has a brother. Jacob plays football with Albus."
"Potter knows?"
"I don't know if Mr. Potter knows or not, but—"
"Merlin's wand!"
"No, Father, wait! Marcus said that they read about us growing up. Of course, everyone knows Mr. Potter. He's famous. They think that he's retiring from heading up Magical Law Enforcement and that he's moved here to start a new life. As for us, they simply think you decided to be a music teacher. They don't seem to care about our family's past! Father, they're nice to me and Albus! It's not like Hogwarts." Scorpius tone was plaintive as he spoke. Draco sighed.
"I suppose I'll have to take your word for it, son. Belton appears to be an honorable young man. However, you must still be vigilant. Just as we have much to learn about muggle life, there is quite a bit we don't know about American wizarding culture either."
"I understand, Father. I am still a Slytherin, you know." Scorpius smiled, and his father returned the expression.
"Good." Draco glanced back through the studio door before flicking his wand to draw the window blinds, and taking his son's hand. "Let's go." They disapparated.
"Hiya, Lilac." Albus trotted down the front steps of the school building to where Lilac stood, watching Saheli step into a sleek BMW.
"What's up, Potter?" She perched on the wall that bordered the edge of the lawn. "Soccer practice today?"
"Yeah. You?"
"I've got crew in about half an hour."
Albus took a seat beside her, watching a group of students clamber into an SUV and speed out of the parking lot.
"It's so odd to see kids our age with cars. In London, most of us walk of ride a pushbike almost everywhere, if we don't take the bus or train." He grinned. "Of course, in our family, we floo or go side-along with our parents most of the time."
"What's a…" Lilac narrowed her eyes. "A flue? You mean like in the fireplace?" she asked.
"Yup. If your house has a floo connection, you can go to almost any destination that's on the network. It's really convenient if you're not old enough to apparate," he explained.
"Wow. How does that work? Daddy never told me about that, and I don't think I've ever read about it."
"Well, you just toss in a handful of floo power and then step into the flames and—"
"What? But you'll get burned!"
"No, you won't. It's perfectly safe, and all you feel is a fluttery warm sensation. The floo powder is what transforms the flames for travel."
"Oh. I feel like I don't know anything about magic sometimes," Lilac remarked.
"I understand. Dad said he felt the same way when he first went to Hogwarts. I suppose a lot of muggleborn students feel the same way. It must be hard, especially if one's family is distressed by it all."
"Yeah. Oh, hey, um—c'mere." She hopped down from the wall and grabbed Albus by the hand. He followed her around to the side of the building, where they ducked behind a tall hedge.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Check it out." Lilac grinned. She drew her wand and held it up for him to examine.
"Is this yours?"
"Yeah. Dad decided that I can carry it now."
"That's brilliant! I've never seen a wand like this one. What kind of wood is this?" he asked, eyeing the golden-hued wand.
"It's pine. The core is thunderbird tail feather."
"Wow. So, c'mon. Show me what you can do." Albus gave her an encouraging nod.
"Here? We'll get caught!" she whispered.
"Scorpius and I use ours all the time. As crappy as I am, surely we'd have gotten a citation by now. Just do something simple. Do you know the color change charm?"
"Well…" Lilac looked around. Albus peered through the hedge.
"No one's looking." Albus gestured towards her wand. Lilac pursed her lips and pointed her wand.
"Colovaria!"
Albus' white uniform shirt changed to bright blue.
"Nice!" he exclaimed.
"Are you really that bad with a wand?" she asked.
"Hopeless." Albus grimaced.
"But what about what Jake said? He saw you do wandless magic."
"Well…" Albus sighed. "Every now and then I seem to be able to control my magic better without a wand, but—"
"That's amazing!" Lilac exclaimed. "Daddy says that only the most powerful wizards can perform wandless magic."
"Ah, that's not true. Anybody could cast a basic wandless spell."
"Fine, then. Prove it," she challenged. "Change your shirt back."
"No way! The last time I tried this spell; I set my bed on fire and flooded my room."
"Aw, come on, Albus! Just try it! Didn't you throw Tucker Parris across the locker room?"
"Merlin's wand! Jacob Belton has a big mouth!" Albus declared.
"Come on, Potter!"
"Fine!" Albus huffed. "But if I wind up with third degree burns, you're explaining this to my dad."
"Go for it!" Lilac grinned wickedly. Albus rolled his eyes.
"Colovaria!" He held his breath.
"Awesome!" Lilac exclaimed. Albus looked down to see that his shirt had returned to its original white color. He breathed a sigh of relief.
"I don't get it," he said as they walked back to the front of the building. "A wand is supposed to channel one's magical energy—focus it—my wand seems to make everything worse."
"Maybe it's defective," she suggested. "Is that possible?"
"No idea. I've never heard of anyone having a defective wand," Albus replied. "Although, my uncle Ron broke his wand second year when he and Dad crashed a flying car into the whomping willow at Hogwarts and—"
"A flying car?" Lilac stopped walking and stared at him incredulously.
"It's a long story. Basically, Scorpius' granddad secretly gave my mum a cursed diary that had belonged to Tom Riddle, which possessed her, forcing her to open the Chamber of Secrets, unleashing a basilisk which nearly killed my Aunt Hermione and a few other people at the school, but Dad killed the snake with the sword of Gryffindor and saved Mum's life." Lilac gawked at him with disbelief, but Albus continued, oblivious to her shock. "Anyway, Uncle Ron's wand got broken when they crashed, and it misfired a lot of spells he tried to perform that school year. Then, when they went to save Mum, their defense instructor, Professor Lockhart—a total charlatan, by the way—tried to obliviate them, but the wand backfired and now he's basically a blithering idiot who doesn't even know his own name."
"Seriously?"
"Mm-hm. All true." Albus nodded his head earnestly.
"Wow. The war must have been…wow." Lilac shook her head.
"Yeah," Albus shrugged. "Dad doesn't talk about it much. He claims most of the books overstate his accomplishments."
"Is it true about Maestro? Was he really a—a Death Eater?"
"There's a lot more to the story than most people know. There were many who were loyal to the Death Eater cause and to Tom Riddle, but there were some who were forced to take the mark—like Maestro. Not everyone who does terrible things does them willingly." His expression turned dark. He knew every detail of the dark deeds perpetrated by the Malfoys, but he didn't want anyone casting the shadow of disapproval over Scorpius.
"Well, for the record, I like Maestro. He's tough, but he's the best music teacher I've ever had. Besides, if there's one thing I've ever learned, it's that one should believe half of what you see and none of what you hear." She grimaced.
"Erm, Lilac, soo what made your dad change his mind about your wand?" Albus asked.
"Oh, well, he just—" she hedged. "There's your dad."
Albus turned to see the champagne-colored Land Rover turn into the lot. He summoned his satchel, and Lilac snickered.
"What?" he looked back at her.
"You don't even realize you're doing it!" she laughed.
"Doing what?" Albus hated being laughed at, and his expression was filled with exasperation.
"Magic, duh! Your bag? It was like five feet away, and you totally called it to your hand."
"Well, yeah, but—"
"Hello, Lilac. Fancy a lift?" Harry asked, leaning towards the open window of the SUV.
"No thanks, Mr. Potter. I've got crew." Lilac shouldered her bag. She took Albus' arm before he climbed into the truck. "I think you know what the problem with your magic is, Albus." She whispered. "You just need to admit it."
The title for this chapter is taken from an image in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets film.