A/N: The next chapter of "A Changeling In Time" (my long Dramione fic) is kicking my trash at the moment. I've deleted several hundred words several times, because it's just not clicking! Grr!
Rest assured, I am still working on it, but in the mean time I wrote this as a gift for Love From A Muggle, whose dog recently passed away. Hopefully this will put a smile on her face.
Cheesier and fluffier than my normal stuff, but I'm on a Shakespeare kick! Post war 7th year Draco is forced to act in a play put on by the Muggle Studies classes at Hogwarts. It's not just any play. It's Romeo and Juliet… and Hermione Granger is the lead.
I Doubt It Not
"I am terribly sorry, Mister Malfoy, but if you wish to retain your status as Head Boy then I'm afraid you must make reparations for your actions." Professor McGonagall stared at the boy gravely.
Draco's face twitched with annoyance. "Just what kind of reparations?"
"Seeing as Mr. Longbottom is no longer fit to perform his role it is up to you to take the lead in the upcoming play put on by our Advanced Muggle Studies students."
"You're joking?" Draco spat. "You're off your rocker if you think I'd be caught dead acting in some ludicrous muggle production." He grabbed the doorknob to leave when McGonagall spoke up.
"Very well, Draco. Oh, and on your way out if you could be so kind as to send Mister Weasley to my office – I'm certain he'll want to hear the news of his promotion as soon as possible."
He recoiled, dropping the handle and turning stiffly toward the headmistress. "Weasley? Weasley would be Head Boy?" His insides churned with resentment. Anyone other than Weasley would have been ideal. Even P—well, not Potter either, but anyone after that.
"Of course, Harry Potter is also a viable alternative if Mister Weasley so chooses to decline…"
AGH! "I'll do it."
"Excuse me?"
"I'll be the lead in your ridiculous play."
There was no punishment that topped this. Draco peered at the balcony covered in rose-laden vines and made an audible sigh of disgust. But honestly – who could have really blamed him for what he had done to Neville?
There Longbottom had been in the most utterly ridiculous tights he had ever seen, scaling clumsily up an amateurly crafted, florid tower toward who knows what, reciting the most absurd lines ever heard by wizarding kind… What choice did Draco have but to send a trifling hex at the idiot?
Of course, Draco couldn't have predicted that Neville would have broken several bones, refusing point blank to climb the tower again – what a pansy.
Stirring him from the amusing reverie Professor Flickwick scurried merrily over toward him. "Ah, yes, Mister Malfoy, I see you have your copy of the play. Today we will begin with a run-though of Act one, Scene five, where Romeo and Juliet first meet.
Draco rolled his eyes at the tedious dialogue. He had only begun reading the script that afternoon, however, so he missed his first cue.
"Romeo, address the servant!" Flitwick snapped.
"Oh, er, What lady is that, which doth enrich the hand of yonder knight."
An overenthusiastic fifth year replied, "I know not, sir!"
"Er… O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright—" Draco plowed on in a monotonous drawl. "—It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night, like a rich jewel on an Ethiope's ear; Beauty too rich for use, for Earth too dear… Do muggles actually speak like this? This is absolute rubbish."
"Mister Malfoy, you are interrupting Romeo's dialogue…"
"Well, hang on, I thought Romeo was completely hung up on – what's her name – Rosaline. I mean, this guy's really nothing but a scumbag."
A clear, feminine voice echoed from the other side of the stage. "Fitting then, that you should be cast to play him."
Hermione entered into the light wearing an odd dress laced tightly around her waist. Draco knew it must be a costume, but the contraption around her midsection pushed her chest upward in a strange, rather distracting manner.
"Oh excellent, excellent, our Juliet is here!" Professor Flitwick squeaked. "I take it Miss Granger that your costume fitting went well."
She grimaced slightly. "The corset's a bit tight, but I'll manage." She adjusted the odd laced middle portion of her dress, and Draco blinked several times.
Corset. He'd have to remember that.
"Very good, now Mister Malfoy, I know you haven't had a chance to memorize your lines, but I want you to look at Miss Granger and imagine that you are Romeo and she is Juliet. Go ahead and continue where you left off. With Feeling!"
Draco raised his script, feeling measurably more nervous, but as he read on he felt himself slipping more into character and growing more confident, until he finished boldly, "Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight… For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night."
Hermione looked surprised and somewhat speechless, staring at Draco with a keen sense of wonder. Flitwick interrupted the moment however by clapping excitedly. "Bravo, Draco. If you read all your lines like that we may have to set up a few encore performances!"
Draco stared at Hermione, whose glittering eyes and flushed cheeks made her look every bit as lovely as Romeo had just described.
Damn... Draco was in trouble.
Two weeks later Draco sat on the floor of the corridor nearest the Muggle Studies department, grimacing at his script.
"Trouble with your lines, Malfoy?" Hermione smirked.
Draco was too focused to offer any proper insults. "Juliet's so bloody daft in this scene."
"Oh really—" Hermione placed her hands on her hips. "—And why is that?"
"Well, she's just pledged her love to Romeo, and he climbs up the balcony, and just when things are getting good she lets her bloody nurse ruin everything."
Hermione slid beside him. "Well, in the sixteenth century a woman of high standing needed to be kept in line to maintain the dignity of her household. I thought it would make sense to someone from such a stoic, pureblood family like yours."
"Don't be ridiculous, Granger. They're obviously hot for each other. You can only take so much sexual tension before everything else gets chucked out the window."
Hermione's eyebrows flared as she bit down a grin. "Then, perhaps Romeo should have been more persuasive." She rose swiftly. "Stand up. Professor Flitwick is always encouraging us to think above and beyond our lines, more deeply into the lives of the characters."
Draco grimaced, not wanting to be bossed around by Granger, but also wanting to understand the depth of his their characters more thoroughly. Oh Merlin… Draco had gone from cool, Slytherin socialite to theater geek in a matter of weeks. He could play it off and say that it was because McGonagall threatened that anything less than a perfect performance would result in his dismissal as Head Boy, but Draco knew it was more than that. He was – heaven forbid – actually enjoying himself.
"All right then, Romeo. I will determine if the delivery of your lines merits anything more than a congenial, goodnight pat on the back."
"Oh please, if this nonsense were real…"
Hermione grabbed his face suddenly, catching him off guard as she gazed straight into his eyes. "You're an actor now, Malfoy. When you're in character – it is real."
She probably expected him to pull away and grab his script, but Draco didn't need it. With an impulsive growl he grabbed her wrists, not allowing Hermione's hands to move from his face.
"With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out, And what love can do that dares love attempt; Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me."
Draco surprised himself at how smoothly he'd transitioned into Romeo's role at that moment, and he could tell Hermione was equally staggered. That oh-so-familiar blush crept up her cheeks, and he grinned cheekily. Who knew teasing Granger could be so entertaining?
Her breath hitched ever so slightly before offering her line. "If they do see thee, they will murder thee."
He released one of Hermione's hands, bringing his lips close to her ear.
"Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity."
He felt Hermione's pulse quicken beneath her wrist as she barely whispered, "I would not for the world they saw thee here."
Draco continued his lines, enjoying Juliet's reactions to his obviously stellar performance. Finally he reached his pinnacle line.
Grabbing Hermione flush against his body, his lips mere inches from her face, he murmured, "O wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?"
He expected Hermione to say her next line, withering into his arms, so it astonished him when she pushed him away pointedly.
"Yes, Romeo, because that's what ladies with standards do." With a smirk of her own she scooped up her book bag and strolled lightly down the corridor. "Good job on your lines, by the way," she turned one last time before disappearing around the corner.
Hang on a second… Draco was sure he'd had Hermione wrapped around his finger. He'd used every seductive trick in the book. Was it possible that Hermione had outplayed him? Draco slid back to the floor, grabbing his script in frustration. Great Salazar, she was good.
"Opening Night, everyone! Everyone in position! The curtain is about to open!" Flitwick bustled around like an overzealous honey bee.
Draco peeked surreptitiously in the crowd from behind the velvet curtain and immediately found it difficult to breathe. To his horror a smattering of Slytherins perched expectantly in the front section of seats.
He'd practically worn a hole in the ground with his pacing back and forth when Hermione came toward him in full costume. Her hair lay in soft ringlets, her eyes sparkled, and that bloody corset… Draco was done for.
"Nervous?" She sidled up beside him, breathing excitedly.
"You have no idea," he admitted, still partially thinking about the corset.
Hermione turned to him unexpectedly. "As much as I hate to admit it, Draco, I know you'll be brilliant. Just be Romeo, and everything will go perfectly."
"Thanks… Hermione."
Draco couldn't help but wonder at what point they had begun to address one another on a first name basis, but before he could ponder on it too heavily Flitwick began screeching in urgent whispers for Draco to get on stage.
Hermione was right of course; as soon as he got onto the stage he forgot about the audience, performing every line to perfection.
Then came the scene he was most nervous about - the one where Romeo spends the night in Juliet's chamber and has to leave before Lady Capulet walks in on them. It was the one scene they hadn't quite gotten right, due to their mutually glaring refusal to part with any semblance of a kiss, although the script called for it.
A stocky sixth year Hufflepuff walked briskly onto the stage.
"Nurse?" Hermione called out.
"Your lady mother is coming to your chamber: The day is broke; be wary, look about." The Hufflepuff scurried quickly off-stage.
Hermione peered desolately out the window. "Then, window, let day in, and let life out."
Draco had never felt more in character as he grasped Hermione's hands tightly. "Farewell, farewell. One kiss and I'll descend."
Perhaps it was the beseeching way he'd gazed into her shimmering brown eyes, or perhaps she was just as in character as he was, but without even a hint of hesitation she brought her lips to his.
Draco forgot where he was for several seconds as his hands slid around her waist, but that damned Hufflepuff nurse came back, offering a poorly adlibbed line, bringing Draco immediately back to his senses.
"O think'st thou we shall ever meet again?" Hermione peered at Draco with a somewhat unsure expression.
He may have been in character; he might have been speaking directly to Hermione. Either way it was true.
"I doubt it not…"
From the back of the theater Draco could have sworn he heard a familiar, faint shout. "What in the bloody hell just happened?"
With a grin Draco exited the stage… Hexing Longbottom off that balcony had been the best decision he'd ever made…
End
Perhaps not as long or detailed as I would have liked, but the idea of Harry Potter characters acting out plots from Shakespearean plays makes me so happy. I'd love to do one for "Much Ado About Nothing" next! Thanks for reading. -V