"See you tonight," said Draco, bending down to give Rhiannon a brief kiss.
She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling. "I can't wait."
Neither could Draco.
------------------------------------------------------
Draco wasn't sure if he should wait outside for Rhiannon, but since he was going to use the stage afterwards, he thought that might seem a bit odd. This time, when the man named Colin opened the door, he just gave Draco a nod and waved him inside.
Draco took a seat in the same chair he'd used the time before, and watched as Adrian corrected a few of the cast about exactly where they should be standing. "The lighting crew can't read your minds, you know," he said at one point, his voice getting louder with every word. "So you have to fucking know what you're supposed to be doing, or the spotlight'll hit empty stage! Any questions?"
Nobody did have any, Draco noticed.
Well, at least Rhiannon was "hitting her marks," as Adrian put it. Really, she was head-and-shoulders above the rest of the poor sods in the production, and it showed. In her voice, in her posture, in her whole manner of bearing. She was quality. Too good to be on stage alongside Muggles, but that would just have to be borne.
Not for the first time, Draco wondered why wizards hadn't developed a theatre world of their own.
"All right," Adrian finally said, his arms crossed as he scowled at his players. "Rehearsal's over, but for God's sake, Colin, don't light up until you get outside, this time!"
Draco rose to his feet, but paused when he saw Rhiannon going up to Adrian.
"You said I should talk with you afterwards."
Adrian was wearing a bit of a twisted smile, by then. "Oh, you did well enough, tonight. I'll lock the door behind me. You just be damned sure to close it good and tight when you leave, eh?"
"Thanks, Adrian." Rhiannon hesitated slightly. "Er . . . would you like to stay and watch?"
He practically guffawed. "A magic show? I don't think so. I've got a score I'm working on. Have fun with your boyfriend."
With that, he was off.
Bit rude, in Draco's view, but that didn't matter. How could it? This time, when Draco had been termed Rhiannon's "boyfriend," she hadn't said a word in protest.
"So, that's it, then," said Rhiannon as the stage door clanged shut. "Ready?"
Draco grinned. "Of course."
Rhiannon's forehead wrinkled. "But . . . didn't you bring anything with you? I mean, some props? A top hat, a . . . or do you have everything you need up your sleeve?"
Hmm. Good point. Draco wanted her relaxed, and she wouldn't be, not unless he struck her as the kind of magician she'd admired when she was little . . . the Muggle kind. Which meant he would need props, yes.
"Oh, I stowed my things where they wouldn't get in Adrian's way," he invented, Occluding to lend the lie an aura of authority. "Why don't you set up a table for me and a chair for yourself while I fetch them?"
Once he was out of her sight, Draco drew in a deep breath and conjured the kinds of items he thought she'd expect to see. Having her ramble about Muggle magic tricks had certainly helped him understand what she would consider normal.
He still felt a little nervous about using his wand so freely outside the protective wards in Devon, but he'd tried several spells earlier and nothing dire had happened. Of course, with all the magic guarding the cottage, it was possible that Ministry letters couldn't make it through to Severus. But the Ministry would most likely have traced his wand to Exeter, in that case. Aurors would have been sent to warn him personally, or apprehend him, even.
And nothing of the sort had occurred, so Draco did believe that he was perfectly safe using magic freely, now. It was just odd, that was all.
But it was only right. Harry could do all the magic he liked, law or no law, since he didn't even need a wand. Draco still sort of resented that, but he felt better about it, now.
When he went back on stage, he saw that Rhiannon had set a table up and had covered it with a long stretch of black fabric. She was sitting on a folding metal chair positioned front and centre, and was practically bouncing in her seat, she was so excited.
"Close your eyes while I get set up," said Draco, randomly setting items down. Once her eyes were closed, he banished everything except the top hat he'd conjured. That, he placed in the middle of the table. "All right, it's safe now."
"You are good at this," said Rhiannon at once. "That was some quick sleight-of-hand!"
Draco didn't quite know what she was talking about, but he didn't let that bother him. "Observe," he said, trying for the kind of voice he thought a stage performer would use. Confident, but not booming. He picked up the top hat as he spoke. "An ordinary hat such as you might see on any street in London."
"Any street in 1862, maybe."
Draco gave her a mock glare, but she seemed to take it seriously. "Sorry. I'll behave."
"There's nothing inside it," Draco continued, waving the hat in all directions and showing that it was empty. He might have never seen a Muggle magician at work, but he had seen quite a lot of Muggleborns at Hogwarts. Especially when they were just first-years, they talked about how different real magic was from what they'd expected. It didn't take a lot of imagination to realise from their comments that a magic act was mostly made up of words and actions proving that a trick couldn't work, and then making it work, regardless.
Draco shoved his hand inside the hat and moved it around. "Madam, you look like a sceptical sort of person. Would you like to examine this hat for yourself?"
"I certainly would," answered Rhiannon crisply. She took the hat and peered at it from all angles, then handed it back. "Yes, nothing but an ordinary hat. Too big for me, but . . ."
Oh, that was a good idea . . . Draco brandished his wand and waved it theatrically about, hoping he didn't look the way Lockhart used to when he would demonstrate a spell. He didn't want to come across as comical, certainly. "A size smaller, you," he ordered as he tapped the hat. The Latin incantation he said more softly. A shrinking spell, of course, one designed to have a very minimal effect. "Madam, your hat."
Rhiannon blinked as she turned it over in her hands, again. "It does seem a little bit smaller, I suppose. Maybe."
"Try it on."
She did, but demurred, "Well, I was just guessing it was too big, before."
"Oh ye of little faith," boomed Draco. He wasn't sure where he'd heard the phrase, but it seemed to fit. "Not impressed yet, Madam? Perhaps it's time to pull a rabbit from the hat, then!"
Before she could take it off her head, Draco waved his wand and conjured some young rabbits to appear inside the hat. He was quite proud of his conjuring, really. It was properly a seventh-year skill, but he'd mastered it, already. Harry might have dark powers and wandless magic and all the rest, but he was pants at conjuring, he really was. That only stood to reason, though; conjuring was really an advanced form of Transfiguration, which was one of Harry's worst subjects.
Rhiannon gave a little scream as three fat white rabbits, one after another, bounded off the top of her head. "How did you do that?"
"Magic!" said Draco, still in his performer's voice. "You there, rabbit!" he called out, pointing his wand at one of the animals. "Up, up with you! Wingardium Leviosa, I say! Over to the pretty lady with you, and we'll hear no more complaints!"
The rabbit bobbed through the air and dropped into Rhiannon's lap. Once there, it immediately hopped away again, though.
"Shall I fetch it back?"
"N . . . n . . . no," said Rhiannon, a trifle weakly. Actually, she sounded a little dazed. Draco felt rather satisfied by that. Obviously, he was much better on stage than she'd assumed.