Another short one just to move things along. It seems everyone has plans for the evening...
Scorpius cleared the table with a wave of his wand, sending the dishes to the dishwasher. Another flock of his wand, and the sink was filled with soapy water. He set all of the cleaning to begin, and wiped down the counters by hand. Draco poured himself another glass of wine and was headed back to his study, when his phone rang in his pocket. He fumbled a moment, careful not to spill his wine, and lifted it to his ear as he pressed the "answer" icon.
"Draco."
"Potter." In spite of himself, a smile crept across his face at the sound of Harry's voice. "What can I do for you my friend?"
"Well, I've just had a fire call from Kingsley, and he's given me tickets to a Quodpot match. It's the Kansas City Jackalopes versus the Los Angeles Dragons."
"Really? I have read a little about Quodpot. Apparently, the sport is quite popular is America."
"Yeah, so, erm…I was wondering if you'd like to go to the match with me."
"Oh, I-" Draco began.
"Ah! I should have mentioned that it's tonight." Harry quickly added.
"I see. Well…I-I suppose that might be interesting. Erm…"
"Oh, great. Great. Erm, the tickets are portkeys, so we can go from here straight to the arena."
"Well, alright then. What time?" Draco asked.
"The portkeys activate in an hour. Is that enough time?"
"Erm, yes. Yes, that will be fine. I'll meet at yours?"
"Excellent! See you."
They rang off. Draco turned up his wine glass, and turned away from his study.
"Dessert, Father?" Scorpius asked. He opened the refrigerator and retrieved two glass dishes of Eton mess.
"Erm, no actually, son. Mr. Potter and I are going out."
"Going out?" Scorpius looked at him curiously.
"Yes. He's had an extra admission to a Quodpot match."
"Oh, cool."
"No, I don't believe the weather will be too much of a factor," said Draco.
"N-no, I meant, that sounds good. Erm, 'cool' is like a thing that muggle kids say, apparently."
"Ah, I see, well, I suppose I should get ready. We depart in an hour. Goodness! I've no idea what American modes of wizarding dress are like! Perhaps I should ask Harry." Draco fished his phone from his pocket.
"Well, according to Marcus, Americans aren't too much given to superfluous robes and the like. They're almost like muggles." His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he dug it out, briefly glancing at the text message before turning his attention back to his father.
"Really?"
"Here, look." Scorpius summoned a newspaper.
"When did we get a subscription to the New York Ghost?" Draco looked over Scorpius' shoulder as he spread the paper open on the counter. "Hmm. It is rather a bit different than Europe—oh, I think I like that!"
"Al, I'm leaving!" Harry called from the front hall. Albus appeared at the top of the stairs.
"You're going out?" His face was a question as he descended.
"Mr. Malfoy and I are attending the Quodpot match in Kansas City."
"Oh." He stopped halfway down.
"Is something the matter, son?"
"Ah, no. Erm, I was wondering-I mean a bunch of us were going to get together and erm…eat! You know, just hang out?"
"Okay. And who exactly is 'a bunch'?" Harry slipped into his jacket, giving it a tug. "Scorpius, I suppose?"
"Well, yeah, and Jacob and Marcus, and Lilac, and a couple of others." Albus replied. "Oh, Marcus is driving," he added hastily.
Albus held his breath as his father seemed to consider his request. Harry regarded his son thoughtfully Albus had never been terribly social before. He realized now that such owed to his lack of friends at Hogwarts, other than Scorpius.
Since arriving in Greyswood, he found that Albus had begun to show an interest in both his studies, as well as the social life at school, making friends with his teammates, and getting to know other kids his age. The doorbell rang, and he turned to admit Draco.
"Evening, Albus." Draco smiled as he entered.
"Good evening…Mr.…Erm…Malfoy." Albus gawked at him.
Draco wore a loose-fitting hooded knit tunic, in a soft sage green, with leather breeches and paddock boots. A crocheted sleeveless duster was draped upon this, and his long pale hair was pulled away from his face at the front and secured into a top knot.
"From what I'd observed in the papers, this is the current mode of fashion among American wizards," he said.
"Right. Rand here I'd just gotten accustomed to seeing you in muggle clothing!" Harry remarked, the corner of his lips turning up as he raked his eyes over him. "Well, I suppose we'd best get a move on." Harry tossed Albus a beaded bracelet. His son looked at it nonplussed. "Put it on. It's a portkey."
"For-" Albus slipped the bracelet onto his wrist.
"Curfew is at eleven. If your muggle friends don't want the shock of their lives, I suggest you make yourself scarce before it activates." Harry raised a brow.
"Eleven. Got it!" Albus grinned, and dashed back up the stairs. "Are you going?" he texted Scorpius.
"Yes. You?"
"See you in a few."
Harry and Draco landed inside a privacy fence that surrounded what appeared to be a derelict factory building, but quickly discovered that they were in the right place as they noted other individuals and groups apparating or landing nearby, and joining a lengthy queue to enter the structure.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please be mindful to stay inside the security fence. Once your ticket is redeemed you will not be able to bypass the protective enchantments!" warned a wizard in bright yellow robes that read 'SECURITY' on the back. "Please have your wands ready to be checked at the entrance. All underage mages must be accompanied by an adult to enter!"
After a brief wait, they reached the entrance, and had their wands scanned at security. Harry marveled at the portal through which they were asked to pass their wand, and made a note to discuss the same idea with Hermione and the head of Magical Games and Sports at The Ministry.
"Wow!" Draco murmured when they finally entered the venue.
The building's exterior belied what awaited them on the inside. The entire place reverberated with the thump of music as three young women with dark skin and white hair, in seductive leather outfits. The half-African-American half-veela trio of sisters providing the pregame entertainment was called I, Tituba.
"What exactly are they doing?" Draco asked. "It rather sounds like poetry, but kind of different."
"It's called rap. Basically, it is poetry, set to the rhythm of the music. It's been really popular with muggles for decades. James loves it." Harry explained, checking their ticket stubs.
"Oh. Hmm. I shall have to look into that. My students are probably very interested in it, d'you think?"
"I'd bet my wand on it! Looks like we have VIP seats. This way, I think."
They found their seats were in a well-appointed open box above the general admission seating, and featured comfortable leather seating, and a personal house elf staffing a lavish buffet.
"Well, America certainly wins points in my book. VIP seating at the World Cup wasn't quite this opulent," Draco remarked, accepting a mug of Dragon Scale. "Wooden benches and a shared refreshment area."
The pregame festivities came to an end, and the stage was vanished, revealing the field of play. Officials entered the starting circle at one end of the pitch, and a large cauldron filled with Quodpot solution was placed at the center of the scoring circle on the far end. Both teams swooped into the arena, and Harry and Draco immediately noted the differences in their attire and those of Quidditch players.
"Merlin! They're wearing more padding than a keeper!" Draco exclaimed.
The team colors consisted of fitted breeches and knee-length robes which resembled tailcoats, fitted through the waist, to conform to the excessive padding, and flaring at the hips to sit neatly over their brooms. Each player wore safety goggles with mirrored lenses and an anti-mist charm; tall boots were supplemented with padded leather gaiters that featured integrated knee pads. Padded leather gauntlets were strapped to their arms, and additional leather padding protected their chests and backs. On their heads, each player wore a stiff, peaked helmet with a chin strap, and cage-like face guard.
"Although, I have to admit, the shorter robes are probably much less cumbersome than ours were," Harry pointed out. "No fumbling to mount the broom. I like the split tail." Draco nodded his agreement as the Quod was released.
The game commenced and fans of both teams cheered loudly as the players raced down the pitch, battling for control of the quod. The Jackalopes were the first to score, slamming the ball into the pot with a splash. A new quod was brought into play, and soon the Kansas City team was down a player, as the quod exploded. Los Angeles took the lead with the next two quods, and Harry and Draco found themselves caught up in the action.
"It's much more physical than Quidditch!" Harry remarked, over the roar of the crowd. "It's a good thing they don't have beaters!"
"Absolutely! Oh!" Draco exclaimed as the current quod exploded, unseating its carrier from his broom. "Although it seems most of these players are built like beaters."
A whistle blew, and
halftime was announced. A squadron of scantily clad witches on sparkling broomsticks swooped out over the pitch, and began to perform a carefully choreographed aerobatic routine.
"Drink?" Harry offered.
"No, thank you." Draco shook his head, and Harry went to the refreshment table near a large window. A flicker of light caught his eye, and he looked down on the street below. Several police cars were stationed along the fence that surrounded the building.
"That doesn't seem right," he said.
"What's that?" Draco asked.
"I think we should—" Before Harry could finish, there was a flash of light and a rumble not unlike thunder that shook the place.
"Bloody hell!" Draco leapt to his feet, brandishing his wand. Harry whipped out his own wand.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Do not be alarmed!" a voice came resonated in the space. "It appears that our protective enchantments have been compromised. However there is no imminent danger. We ask that those who are able please disapparate immediately to your safest destination. Those who are unable to disapparate, please proceed orderly to the emergency portkey stations on the lower concourse. All underage mages are to report to the field of play, to meet their guardians. We repeat; there is no imminent danger!"
So Draco and Harry's plans look to have gone sideways, how about Albus and Scorpius? Thanks so much for reading, and don't forget to review!