Harry Potter and the Killer Thespian
The title has very little to do with the story. Everything here is JK's, except fpr one rip-off of "Witch Week".
Professor Mary Nixon was a Thespian with a capital T. Everyone knew it from the moment she walked in the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom the fifth year. She went on and on and on about how she had given up a life on the stage to teach Defense to young witches and wizards.
"It's my sacrifice," she'd say. "I do it for the future." And she'd sighed dramatically and brush her hand across her brow.
About halfway through the first semester, she had assigned everyone a paper on the uses of various exotic creatures against Dark Wizards. Neville Longbottom was forced to read his aloud first.
"Er, er, I haven't quite finished," he confessed, scribbling rapidly. "Almost done."
"Read what you have," Nixon said in exasperation. He nodded, got to his feet, tripped, and came forward. Why do I always choose him to read first? I must simply be out of my wits. If only I had taken that post with the Magical Players.
"Um, I chose butterflies," Neville said, red with embarrassment. Everyone began to laugh. "Ah, er. Butterflies are usually symbols of hope. They often appear after great disaster to say that it won't happen again. Green butterflies were seen after You-Know-Who vanished fourteen years ago." He looked at Nixon. "That's all I have."
"Fine," she said. "Sit down." Hmm. Perhaps I have an idea. "Well, class, I believe we have a change of plans." They all brightened up. "It's nearly Halloween now. You and the rest of the fifth years are going to put on a play for Halloween."
Almost everyone groaned.
"Cool!" Dean said. "When I visited my American cousins this summer, we watched this television show, ER. We could do that!"
"ER?" half the class asked.
"It's about an emergency room. You know, where Muggles go when they get hurt."
"No," Nixon said, stomping on that. "We will re-enact the fateful night that You-Know-Who disappeared."
Harry immediately stood up. "Could we please not?" he asked. " After all, you know…"
"No," Nixon said. "I like my idea. You can help write it, since you obviously know so much about it."
"Please?" Harry asked.
"No. But you don't have to act in it. Now, everyone, I want you all back here tonight for the first rehearsal of the Defense Against the Dark Arts League - Hogwarts Junior Division - Performers."
That evening she watched as the forty or so fifth years crowded into the room. "Thank you all," she said, smiling kindly. They groaned. "Now, Harry, have you written what happened?"
"Yeah," he said, tossing her a pile of papers. "It's all there."
"Thank you. Now, let's see. Harry, you can play your father."
"You said I didn't have to!" he complained.
"Oh, very well." She glared at him, and he put a hand to his head. "Justin, you can play James Potter."
"Great," he exclaimed.
"Parvati, you can be Lily."
"Neat!" she said. She skipped forward, holding something in her arms.
"What is that?" Nixon asked, distracted.
"My knitting." She held it up. It was white and fluffy. "They're booties, for babies."
"Oh." Nixon looked around and saw that most of the girls held similar knitting. Some stupid craze.
"Draco, you can be Sirius Black, and Neville, you can be You-Know-Who."
"Why?" Neville asked.
"Because I said so." This should be awful. Why am I giving Neville the most important part? "And Ron can be Peter Pettigrew."
"No way," Ron said. "I will not. I had to deal with that rat as a pet for years, I'm not playing him in a show."
"I'll be Peter," Ernie MacMillan volunteered. "I don't think it was him who did it, I think it was a flowering shrub that happened to be sentient who-" he was cut off by Crabbe and Goyle sitting on him.
"Here's the scripts," Nixon.
"What about Harry?" Lavender asked.
"What about me?" Harry asked.
"I mean, who's being Harry?"
"We don't need one," Nixon said crossly. "You can all just pretend he's here. Come on, let's go."
Draco began to read, looking most unhappy. "James, old friend, I think we should make Peter Pettigrew, the snivelling whining coward who snuck off whenever we got in trouble at school, Secret-Keeper."
"Sirius, whatever you say," Justin read. "Let's get him now."
"He's outside already," 'Sirius' said. Ernie came in.
"Hi, James," he said brightly. "Let's get going, I have to meet You-kn - I mean, I have a date."
"Yeah right," 'Sirius' said. "You've never had a date in your life. I think you're lying."
"Oh, what's that?" 'Peter' asked, pointing out the window. "It looked like a big thing."
"Nothing there," 'James' said. "Now, let's get going." Everyone nodded and the scene ended.
"Harry, are you sure that's what happened?" Hermione whispered. "Something about that dialogue seemed odd."
"Hermione, I was 15 months old. How on earth am I supposed to remember what happened?"
"Oh. Good point." She looked thoughtful. "Anyway, the next act is coming."
This is going splendidly,
Nixon thought. After I show this play in public, everyone will beg me to be a director, and that's what I've always really wanted."Argh!" Neville yelled, coming around a desk and threatening 'James' and 'Lily'. "I am You-Know-Who. Beware!"
Everyone was rolling around laughing. Only Nixon could speak. "Neville, where on earth did you get that eyepatch? You look like a pirate!"
"Oh." Neville looked vaguely deflated. "I thought it would make me look sinister."
"Neville, I wrote Voldemort in the script for a reason," Harry called, causing everyone else to gasped and turn white. "He'd never call himself You-Know-Who!"
"But we can't say that name!" Neville wailed.
"Why not?" Harry asked. "There's no problem with that. Look. VOLDEMORT!" he yelled.
Suddenly there was a puff of smoke.
"I am Lord Voldemort!" a voice yelled. Half the class screamed and ran for the exit. It was locked.
Maybe I shouldn't have locked that door,
Nixon thought. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Oh dear, You-Know-Who in my classroom. This is not good for my career.Voldemort advanced on 'James' and 'Lily'. "Since you're having so much fun with this re-enactment, why don't we make it more - realistic?" he hissed. "Die!" He pointed his finger at the pair and something green shot out of it. Parvati ducked and tried to block the green light with her knitting, which promptly turned into a little white dog, which ran around yapping at Voldemort's heels. He turned and zapped it, and it turned into green butterflies.
"Cool!" he shouted. "Green butterflies! My favorite!"
"Mine too," Neville yelled before he could stop himself.
"Really?" Voldemort turned to him. "I've got a whole butterfly room at my castle. Want to come see?"
"All right!" Neville yelled. "Can I be a Dark Lord too? I've always wanted to be."
By this time everyone was cowering under desks, watching the events. Harry was somewhere between panic and laughter.
"Sure." Voldemort looked at him. "You can call me Voldie and by my apprentice." He took Neville hand and they vanished.
That's really all, except that Nixon resigned the next day and Dumbledore hired a vampire who only drank cat's blood. McGongall left the school with Hagrid three days later. Neville became a dark lord after Harry finally defeated Voldemort, and like his predecessor changed his name. However, no one was ever afraid of Dark Lord Bob and so he went out of business quickly.
Yes, I know, that other story has Bob the Dark Lord as well, but my friends can tell you that I've been going on about Dark Lord Bob for months.