Snap

Sick Beat

Draco Malfoy was not good at singing. Whenever he tried, he ended up sounding like a shrieking pelican with a frog in its throat. He was definitely not destined for the stage, and he was okay with that.
Which is why, when Pansy Parkinson dragged him to auditions for the school play, he sat in the audience looking for all the world like a kid who'd just dropped his ice cream down the front of his shirt. Pansy, who was already on stage, winked at him.
He flipped her off.
And as a dozen incompetent buffoons - Pansy the exception, of course, as the only representative of the Slytherin house - stumbled through the audition and as the hope slowly faded from the director's soul, Draco Malfoy felt a tug at his heartstrings.
It wasn't because he wanted to perform, no. It wasn't like he was curious about the play - Heathers, he'd seen it done a dozen times - or yearning for something to be passionate about. But... he was competitive. And someone needed to show these absolute idiots how to actually fvcking act.
Naturally, then, he rose from his seat, scowl still firmly in place, and walked up onto the stage.
And he rapped his way through JD's most iconic song.
What else was he supposed to do? He didn't have anything prepared - he wasn't even supposed to be here. He came to watch Pansy audition for the show, not do anything himself! But hell if he would appear unconfident or unprepared. He was Draco Fúcking Malfoy - if there was one thing he excelled at, it was faking it till he made it.
And so he rapped. Freestyled it on the spot, because he could. He knew Heathers inside and out - not because he was a nerd, thank you very much, because he was a critic - so he had plenty to work with.
The director laughed. It sounded slightly insane, the sound of a person who was so overwhelmed they no longer had any reaction to the world except hysteria. Draco gave a proper bow and walked from the stage, dropping his card (all the important folk had them; like business cards, except you don't have a business, just a phone number and a name in fancy script) on the director's table before strutting out of the auditorium.
Pansy grinned at him, giggling, as she followed him out. "That was... Inventive!" She offered, smirking.
He shrugged at her, smiling thinly. "Indeed."
She rolled her eyes, punched him in the arm, and continued on with the day.