Authors Note: I do NOT own Harry Potter or any of the characters therein,
much to my eternal regret. They belong to J.K. Rowling, but you already
know that…so read on! For some reason this site is not accepting my commas
and other puntuation so bear with me please! If you like the story please
comment! Thanks and enjoy!
Chapter One: The Parchment
It was a dreary sort of day out, the tenth in a long succession of many. The chilled November air full of fluffy white clouds gleamed upon the newly fallen blanket of snow. No one had dared to venture out into the frigid grounds of Hogwarts for over a week because of the Bartleby Ashburn incident involving ice and a severed nose. And so Harry, much like many other students of Hogwarts, found himself huddled before the fireplace dreaming of sunshine and fresh air.
The atmosphere in the common room was crowded but cozy. A feeling of cabin fever had settled over the students as they slowly ran out of ways to entertain themselves indoors. Curled up in a ball of bushy hair and flannel blanket, Hermione Granger sat cuddling a massive book on the history of flagger-scaled beetles while her enchanted knitting needles spun a elf hat or sock. Harry half-watched her as every few minutes she gazed over to check her progress as well as to make sure that Crookshanks, her massive ginger-haired cat, would not have go at her ball of multi-colored yarn. Harry did not think that she had much to worry about; the cat was in such a deep sleep that it hardly started to the blasting noises originating from the immediate direction of Fred and George Weasley, who were taking advantage of the close quarters that the weather demanded in peddling off some of their latest inventions.
Lazily, Harry thumbed through a quidditch supplies catalog which byline read, Sate Your Itch With Quidditch. He was busy looking for a Christmas gift for Ron. Just as Harry began to consider filling out the order form for a book entitled, Keep It Up Keeper: all you need to know about keeping, when a flushed Neville Longbottom pushed through the Gryffindor common room, dragging behind him a lengthy roll of parchment that in his breathless state nearly tripped him. In a wheezy sort of voice he panted, "Was lost. Found flyer. Trelawney. Play."
From her position among her wooly blankets, Hermione called out to Neville a teasing manner, "Oh, Neville, what is it this time?"
A rush of blood made his even redder than before, he now resembled something of a ripe cherry. In a display of temper quite unusual for his personality, Neville tossed the parchment toward Hermione. Unaware of his anger, Hermione unrolled the paper and began to read aloud:
Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Proudly Presents:
William Shakespeare
Romeo and Juliet
Directed by: Professor Sibyll Trelawney
Auditions to be held Thursday in the Great Hall
Parvati Patil jerked upright from her romance novel, that she had been re-reading for the third time in as many days, to emit a loud squeal of excitement. "How marvelous! A play! I have always wanted to act! Oh, I hope there is romance involved. I do love a good love story!"
"Yeah, whatever. Do you even know who this Wilhelm Shakespeare is? For all you know it could be a horror play. I can see it now, the vampire that fell in love with the flesh-eating zombie! Watch as together they waltz into the night stalking unsuspecting prey," Ron Weasley jested and an echo of laughter rang through the once lifeless room with the energy that had gone missing since the last day of warm weather. With a pat on the back from his brothers and a huff from an offended Parvati, Ron turned toward Harry for agreement.
"Ron, Ron, Ron. It is William not Wilhelm. And besides, I refuse to let you drag his wonderful works down to that level. The man was a genius! In each of his classic dramas he tells the tragic tale of love, intrigue, jealousy, revenge, insanity, and deception. I have to say that for once I agree with the taste of the Professor," Hermione informed a now silent room.
"Once again Hermione, you have thoroughly killed the moment. Anyway, who is this bloke William ? If he is so famous why have I not heard of him?" sneered a self-important Ron.
"Since when did the idea of genius begin and end with you? You can be so dense sometimes! William Shakespeare is a muggle playwright from the Elizabethan period of the sixteenth century, for your information. Perhaps you should consider enrolling in Muggle Studies next term," Hermione best emphasized the more demeaning words to prove her indignation and having been ridiculed.
Ron blushed, his hair clashing horribly with his face. Looking down he began muttering to himself, angry for having lost once more to Hermione and her superior intelligence. Harry felt a ping of sympathy for his beaten friend.
Harry himself knew a little about the story of Romeo and Juliet, Aunt Petunia had a thing for bad movies, but he had never actually watched through to the end of the story. He knew however that this play would definitely cause some much needed drama in the school, drama that would most likely encompass those same qualities of: jealousy, revenge, deception, and insanity. He just hoped that they would be able to survive it.
It was a dreary sort of day out, the tenth in a long succession of many. The chilled November air full of fluffy white clouds gleamed upon the newly fallen blanket of snow. No one had dared to venture out into the frigid grounds of Hogwarts for over a week because of the Bartleby Ashburn incident involving ice and a severed nose. And so Harry, much like many other students of Hogwarts, found himself huddled before the fireplace dreaming of sunshine and fresh air.
The atmosphere in the common room was crowded but cozy. A feeling of cabin fever had settled over the students as they slowly ran out of ways to entertain themselves indoors. Curled up in a ball of bushy hair and flannel blanket, Hermione Granger sat cuddling a massive book on the history of flagger-scaled beetles while her enchanted knitting needles spun a elf hat or sock. Harry half-watched her as every few minutes she gazed over to check her progress as well as to make sure that Crookshanks, her massive ginger-haired cat, would not have go at her ball of multi-colored yarn. Harry did not think that she had much to worry about; the cat was in such a deep sleep that it hardly started to the blasting noises originating from the immediate direction of Fred and George Weasley, who were taking advantage of the close quarters that the weather demanded in peddling off some of their latest inventions.
Lazily, Harry thumbed through a quidditch supplies catalog which byline read, Sate Your Itch With Quidditch. He was busy looking for a Christmas gift for Ron. Just as Harry began to consider filling out the order form for a book entitled, Keep It Up Keeper: all you need to know about keeping, when a flushed Neville Longbottom pushed through the Gryffindor common room, dragging behind him a lengthy roll of parchment that in his breathless state nearly tripped him. In a wheezy sort of voice he panted, "Was lost. Found flyer. Trelawney. Play."
From her position among her wooly blankets, Hermione called out to Neville a teasing manner, "Oh, Neville, what is it this time?"
A rush of blood made his even redder than before, he now resembled something of a ripe cherry. In a display of temper quite unusual for his personality, Neville tossed the parchment toward Hermione. Unaware of his anger, Hermione unrolled the paper and began to read aloud:
Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Proudly Presents:
William Shakespeare
Romeo and Juliet
Directed by: Professor Sibyll Trelawney
Auditions to be held Thursday in the Great Hall
Parvati Patil jerked upright from her romance novel, that she had been re-reading for the third time in as many days, to emit a loud squeal of excitement. "How marvelous! A play! I have always wanted to act! Oh, I hope there is romance involved. I do love a good love story!"
"Yeah, whatever. Do you even know who this Wilhelm Shakespeare is? For all you know it could be a horror play. I can see it now, the vampire that fell in love with the flesh-eating zombie! Watch as together they waltz into the night stalking unsuspecting prey," Ron Weasley jested and an echo of laughter rang through the once lifeless room with the energy that had gone missing since the last day of warm weather. With a pat on the back from his brothers and a huff from an offended Parvati, Ron turned toward Harry for agreement.
"Ron, Ron, Ron. It is William not Wilhelm. And besides, I refuse to let you drag his wonderful works down to that level. The man was a genius! In each of his classic dramas he tells the tragic tale of love, intrigue, jealousy, revenge, insanity, and deception. I have to say that for once I agree with the taste of the Professor," Hermione informed a now silent room.
"Once again Hermione, you have thoroughly killed the moment. Anyway, who is this bloke William ? If he is so famous why have I not heard of him?" sneered a self-important Ron.
"Since when did the idea of genius begin and end with you? You can be so dense sometimes! William Shakespeare is a muggle playwright from the Elizabethan period of the sixteenth century, for your information. Perhaps you should consider enrolling in Muggle Studies next term," Hermione best emphasized the more demeaning words to prove her indignation and having been ridiculed.
Ron blushed, his hair clashing horribly with his face. Looking down he began muttering to himself, angry for having lost once more to Hermione and her superior intelligence. Harry felt a ping of sympathy for his beaten friend.
Harry himself knew a little about the story of Romeo and Juliet, Aunt Petunia had a thing for bad movies, but he had never actually watched through to the end of the story. He knew however that this play would definitely cause some much needed drama in the school, drama that would most likely encompass those same qualities of: jealousy, revenge, deception, and insanity. He just hoped that they would be able to survive it.