Dark Lord of the Dance

A Harry Potter sketch by Red Scharlach

Rating: PG

Written: July 2001

Author's note: This bit of silliness was inspired by the following comment, posted on Diagon Alley by Episcopal Witch:

"My dance company just finished our 2000-2001 season by presenting Riverdance, and it's a great show for Potterholics.... Michael Pat's even got white-blond hair and wears black leather and gray silk a lot. I think Draco should seriously consider this as an alternative to being a Junior Death Eater."

Tee hee. The image went straight to my brain, and this sketch popped out. Just picture the scene around the Malfoy breakfast table when Draco announces his change of career plans...

DARK LORD OF THE DANCE

[The scene: Casa Malfoy, 8 a.m.]

Draco: Father, I've got something to tell you. I've decided to take up Irish dancing.

Lucius: "Irish dancing", eh? Is that some modern terminology? Sounds nice and dangerous. What is it - some sort of covert terrorist activity?

Draco: No, it's just dancing. From Ireland.

Lucius (blankly): Dancing. From Ireland. Irish dancing.

Draco: Yes, Mother took me to see it when we were in London buying my new school books.

Lucius: Did she, now? (Gives Narcissa a pointed look. Narcissa takes a sudden interest in the sugar bowl.)

Draco: Yes, she did, and it was amazing! And now I've decided that's what I want to do, when I leave school.

Lucius: When you leave school... you want to dance??

Draco: You have to be terribly fit to be a dancer, you know. It's really tough, tougher than most sports. And you always wanted me to be good at Quidditch. And I know I could be great - I could be the best there is! Dancing's in my blood...

Lucius: Dancing's in your blood? Dancing's in your blood? The only things you're allowed to have in your blood are mindless evil and the hunger for power. Anything else is for Mudbloods and drooling idiots.

Draco: No, no, you don't understand. It's not so bad, really. See, I brought this souvenir programme to show you...

Lucius (picks up the programme as if it were radioactive and peers at it): What the hell is this garbage? Look, they aren't even moving! How can that be dancing??

Draco: Oh, those are Muggle pictures, they're not supposed to move. But you get the idea, don't you?

Lucius (flicking cautiously through the pages): I can't believe this... grown men... jumping around... ruffled shirts... I've never seen such idiocy in all my life. Although I must say, that young lady in the miniskirt has rather attractive legs...

(Narcissa gives her husband a baleful stare)

Lucius: Don't you look at me like that, woman. This is your fault. I told you to BURN that Michael Flatley pin-up calendar months ago. Now do you see what you've done??

(Narcissa blushes and suddenly remembers the House-Elf she left in the oven four hours ago.)

Lucius: Anyway, Twinkletoes, it's just not good enough. Your mother and I have schemed our fingers to the bone, getting you the best friends money can buy, all so that you could grow up and earn a decent living as Ultimate Overlord of All Wizardkind. And now you want to throw the whole lot away in favour of... hopping about in leather trousers like a great big fairy?? Hell's teeth, boy, you could have done that in private at the Ministry and we'd have said no more about it. But entertaining Muggles?? What kind of fulfilment is this sort of empty-headed fun and games going to give you?

Draco: Well, it makes you popular. Hundreds of people come to watch, and they all cheer and clap.

Lucius: But what is a mere crowd of cheering Muggles when you could be listening to your enemies screaming in agony?

Draco: And they don't only cheer, father. Sometimes they throw things.

Lucius: What kind of things? Large sums of money?

Draco: No. More like flowers, teddy bears...

Lucius: FLOWERS??? TEDDY BEARS???

Draco (rather feebly): ...sometimes underwear.

Lucius: Underwear? They throw dirty laundry at you?

Draco: No, not like that. It's ladies' underwear. Lots of it.

Lucius (a slow dawn of realization creeps across his face): Ah. Now I see. Want to build up a large collection of ladies' underwear, eh? And such a cunning way to do it. No one would guess... very clever. Well, in that case there's no problem, son. You're obviously going to follow in your father's footsteps after all...

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FIN :-)
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Copyright 2001 Red Scharlach (scharlachred@hotmail.com)
Disclaimer: The Malfoys and all other Harry Potterences belong to JK Rowling, not me. That's why she has all the money, and I do not. Bless her cotton socks...

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