Disclaimer: I don't own either Harry Potter OR Romeo and Juliet, in which, SPOOF!!! Bwahahaha...
~Achi-chan
Summary: In order to begin bonding sessions with the seventh years of the four houses, Dumbledore
assigned the seventh years to perform a variation of Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet," and when
performed the 'authors' find the students did a bit of devious planning and rewriting of their own.
Shakespeare's Mistake
rated: PG-13
PART ONE: Damn... Wrong Line, Wrong Play
And Explanations to Leave Us Up-To-Date, aka PROLOGUE
Hermione's eyes were wide. To say they had become buggy would have fit as well, as for the first
time in her life, she sputtered uncontrollably. "You decided to HELP inter-house relationships, to
make us not only write, but perform a variation of Shakespeare's work? That's... that's bloody
insane!" she sputtered. McGonagall grinned evilly.
"We, the professors, have already written a variation of the performance, thanks to the wonderful
creative writing your Heads of Houses have done for you. You must only simply perform the play in
front of the younger years," McGonagall replied.
"And are you to make us audition for parts as well," the skeptical (and sarcastic) voice of
Draco Malfoy cut through the rowdy crowd of Hogwarts seventh years. McGonagall raised an eyebrow.
"Your Head of Houses have helped me to find the matches for the parts for the major roles, or
most of them, and the minor ones have yet to be determined," was the smart reply, as the crowd
pushed forward to read the names upon the paper, posted in the Great Hall.
Hermione groaned, as she read them aloud to the people around her. "'Romeo's' not been chosen
yet. Harry's 'Tybalt'. Ron's 'Paris'. I'm..." she gulped, "'Juliet.' 'Mercrutio's' Seamus.
'Benvolio's'... Justin what'shislastnamefromHufflepuff?" Hermione almost began to laugh, but
continued. "The nurse is Pansy. The monk is Goyle. None of the other parts are of big significance
to us," was the finished reply.
Draco snorted. "Now all they do is find somebody willing to 'kill' Potter for Romeo. Make it
angsty. Too bad you don't have the part, Weasley. Merlin only knows it'd be the only way Granger'd
kiss you on her own," he laughed.
"And thank you for volunteering for the part of 'Romeo', Draco," Madame Hooch laughed merrily,
weaving her way through the students to write Draco's name under the part of 'Romeo.' Hermione and
Draco locked eyes for several long moments in horror.
"Look at where your big mouth got us, Ferret," Hermione growled, not bothering to keep her voice
low.
"Excuse me for stating the truth, Mudblood," Malfoy spat back. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I'm quite sorry, Flying-Rat, but 'Mudblood' really has no effect on me anymore. You see, my
parents ARE muggle. Because of that, I grew up in the muggle ways. Your insult was new to me in my
second year. I feel absolutely nothing towards it because I didn't grow up knowing it was an
offensive term. Now 'pureblood,' as we all know... I can think of several synonyms at the moment,
but 'inbreeding' seems to be the most clear at the moment," was Hermione's sharp reply.
Draco looked as if he were to reach for his wand and hex Hermione, but Harry and Ron, the
Hogwarts steroid giants of their year (no, it wasn't true that they were on steroids, but the
muscles spoke for themselves, didn't they), stepped in front of her. Draco sneered and made an
inappropriate gesture in the general direction of the three before stalking off. He had an
interesting letter to write to his father.
AND SO, THE STUDENTS GET AHOLD OF THE SCRIPT
Hermione slammed the script down on the coffee table, as the entire seventh year class of
Hogwarts watched her in amazement. Draco leaned against a wall close to Hermione, having been
co-president of the entire operation.
"It has come to our attention that the teachers are purposely trying to embarrass us out of our
arses," Hermione began, eyes scanning across the crowd.
"Granger and I have been talking for a bit about this stupid play," Draco added, glaring at the
script, than at Hermione. "We've been trying to come up with a solution to the embarrassment, that
won't be spotted until too late, and we think we've found one, if you're all willing to cooperate
and," he paused, "get along for the time being.
Hermione nodded. "Usually, I wouldn't piss the teachers off. And this will be pissing the
teachers off, especially Snape, who I know went back through the early script and added an
unnecessary relationship to Tybalt and Paris when he found out Ron and Harry had been assigned
those parts. But I have a reputation to withhold, and if defying all of Hogwarts the right to see
me lip-locked with Ferret-Boy, than so be it," she said. Draco nodded in agreement.
"I'm supposed to be a bad-ass guy. Becoming swoony and mushy and smooching on Granger won't
help," he snorted.
"Than what do you suggest we do?" Harry asked, a skeptical look on his face, arms folded.
Hermione's face slowly turned into an evil grin, and she picked up her quill.
"Ladies and gents of the seventh year," she stated, clearly, "the re-writing process begins."
Scene 1, act one
Harry fidgeted with his attire. "This isn't funny," he muttered, glaring at the hose that clad
his legs. Ron plucked at his own nylo- hose.
"How did they wear this back then and there? Merlin, I can see the outline of my-" Ron was
saying, before he was rudely cut off.
"Save it, Ron. We don't want to hear about it," Hermione muttered from behind the broom closet
door. She hadn't come out since Lavendar and Parvati, the costume and make-up crew, had finished
with her. For the past five minutes, she'd been ranting about how the two had gotten off easy, and
that since she were Head Girl, she was entitled to privileges. Such as not being seen on stage in a
corset and squashed her boobs.
Harry, whose eyes had been covered due to Ron's comment, groped out for Ron's tunic, untucked
it, and pulled it down as to cover his-
"That's better. I wish you would keep your thoughts to yourself, Ron," Harry muttered, slowly
uncovering his eyes.
Snape sauntered backstage of the temporary auditorium that had been built on the beloved Great
Hall. He stopped for several seconds in front of Harry and Ron, and continued off, doing his best
not to laugh. It was rich, that is was, seeing the Golden Trio in hose and... dresses, for
Hermione's case.
Lavendar rushed by, pounding on the broom closet door. "HERMIONE! You can't stay in there all
night!" she yelled through the door. Hermione snorted from within.
"Says who?" she wanted to know.
Draco, who had been walking by for the commotion, rolled his eyes and pulled out his wand,
pointing it at the door and whispering "Alohomora!" With a flash, Hermione tumbled out of the broom
closet as the door flew open, landing gracefully on her behind. Brown, poofy tresses flew everywhere
as the dis-shelved Head Girl glared at the Head Boy, who, much to her amusement, wore silver,
blue, and black in the form of a tunic, hose, and a ~blouse~. It was a frilly blouse, too. One her
mother might have worn to mass on Sundays, or to an important business meeting.
"Nice shirt, Malfoy. My mom might want to borrow it when you're done," Hermione snickered,
standing up and brushing off her hands. Draco raised his eyebrows at the breast-flattening corset.
"Perhaps you might want to borrow it, Granger. Seems you don't have much of a shirt yourself,"
he sneered.
The slight blush to Hermione's made-up cheeks was all the reply he needed as she stormed off.
Hooch glared at the students behind stage. "Curtain call, now. All of you in the first scene.
Get into places," she informed them, as the students sulked into position.
AND SO WE BEGIN...
Hannah Abbot and Dean Thomas shuffled out onto the stage, the crowd of students and teachers
becoming quiet (or, for some cases, breaking into fits of giggles, as some people do when they see
a guy wearing overly-tight pantyhose). "We're here to sing the prologue of the play," Hannah
informed the crowd, beginning her ~slightly~ adjusted lines. Dean nodded.
"Basically, we give away the plot of the whole story. Two people from two different worlds fall
in love with each other. They get married and their parents don't know. Then, the bastard of the
story decides to kill the chick's cousin and gets banished. So, she pretends to kill herself, and
he finds out, comes over, kills himself, she wakes up, finds him dead, then REALLY kills herself,
and the families make up, such on, and so forth," Dean informed them.
Hannah nodded. "Yeah. Something about them being star-crossed lovers or something like that. But
Dean got it pretty clear. Now, for many more men in nylons and many more girls with not enough of a
shirt," she finished, bowing her way off the stage. From a peephole, Hermione could see the strange
twinkle of Dumbledore's eyes grow. He wouldn't stop them now that they had begun. And the
performance was going as planned, and the curtain was being raised.
Several odd boys from the Ravenclaw and Slytherin houses loitered the almost realistic street
on the stage, leaning against a wall. "Look. Here comes the jerk-offs from the Gryffindor house.
Why don't we insult them?" one boy asked, raising his middle finger at the Gryffindor and
Hufflepuff housees passing by.
Seamus, our proud Mercrutio, raised his eyebrows. "Do you raise your middle finger, bastard?"
he asked.
The Slytherin with his finger raised shrugged. "Yep. Seems accurate."
"Do you raise it at me?" Seamus wanted to know.
"Nope. I just raise it in general," was his reply.
"DIE, BASTARD!" he cried, pulling out his sword and running it through random people that got
anywhere near him.
Several minutes of Seamus's merciless killing, and the shouts of "YOU IDIOT! I'M ON YOUR SIDE!"
from his fellow Gryffindor and Hufflepuff followers, shouts of horns and trumpets were heard, and
onto the stage rode Goyle, on top of a chariot pulled by first-years.
"To be, or not to be, that is the question!" he cried in an overly dumb voice. Backstage,
Hermione and Draco alike banged their heads against the marble pillars that supported the hall.
Dean stuck his head out from behind the curtain, smiling sheepishly. "So, the dude says, "STOP
THIS HOUSE QUARRLING, PEASANTS! GO HOME NOW!" and they do," he translated. The chariot took off,
Goyle pondering over a plastic skull Hermione knew he had gotten off of Snape's skeletal figure of
the human body. Boy hadn't the Head of Houses done a great job choosing the parts for people.
Like? Dislike? Absolutely hate? . Please, review.
I know most of my facts on Romeo and Juliet, having just finished a final from December on the
damn unit. God, I hate English. Anything that has been left out of the story that was in the
original play, or any bit that has been added to the story that wasn't in the play is my own doing.
I love godplaying through writing... heh heh heh
~Achi-chan
Summary: In order to begin bonding sessions with the seventh years of the four houses, Dumbledore
assigned the seventh years to perform a variation of Shakespeare's "Romeo and Juliet," and when
performed the 'authors' find the students did a bit of devious planning and rewriting of their own.
Shakespeare's Mistake
rated: PG-13
PART ONE: Damn... Wrong Line, Wrong Play
And Explanations to Leave Us Up-To-Date, aka PROLOGUE
Hermione's eyes were wide. To say they had become buggy would have fit as well, as for the first
time in her life, she sputtered uncontrollably. "You decided to HELP inter-house relationships, to
make us not only write, but perform a variation of Shakespeare's work? That's... that's bloody
insane!" she sputtered. McGonagall grinned evilly.
"We, the professors, have already written a variation of the performance, thanks to the wonderful
creative writing your Heads of Houses have done for you. You must only simply perform the play in
front of the younger years," McGonagall replied.
"And are you to make us audition for parts as well," the skeptical (and sarcastic) voice of
Draco Malfoy cut through the rowdy crowd of Hogwarts seventh years. McGonagall raised an eyebrow.
"Your Head of Houses have helped me to find the matches for the parts for the major roles, or
most of them, and the minor ones have yet to be determined," was the smart reply, as the crowd
pushed forward to read the names upon the paper, posted in the Great Hall.
Hermione groaned, as she read them aloud to the people around her. "'Romeo's' not been chosen
yet. Harry's 'Tybalt'. Ron's 'Paris'. I'm..." she gulped, "'Juliet.' 'Mercrutio's' Seamus.
'Benvolio's'... Justin what'shislastnamefromHufflepuff?" Hermione almost began to laugh, but
continued. "The nurse is Pansy. The monk is Goyle. None of the other parts are of big significance
to us," was the finished reply.
Draco snorted. "Now all they do is find somebody willing to 'kill' Potter for Romeo. Make it
angsty. Too bad you don't have the part, Weasley. Merlin only knows it'd be the only way Granger'd
kiss you on her own," he laughed.
"And thank you for volunteering for the part of 'Romeo', Draco," Madame Hooch laughed merrily,
weaving her way through the students to write Draco's name under the part of 'Romeo.' Hermione and
Draco locked eyes for several long moments in horror.
"Look at where your big mouth got us, Ferret," Hermione growled, not bothering to keep her voice
low.
"Excuse me for stating the truth, Mudblood," Malfoy spat back. Hermione rolled her eyes.
"I'm quite sorry, Flying-Rat, but 'Mudblood' really has no effect on me anymore. You see, my
parents ARE muggle. Because of that, I grew up in the muggle ways. Your insult was new to me in my
second year. I feel absolutely nothing towards it because I didn't grow up knowing it was an
offensive term. Now 'pureblood,' as we all know... I can think of several synonyms at the moment,
but 'inbreeding' seems to be the most clear at the moment," was Hermione's sharp reply.
Draco looked as if he were to reach for his wand and hex Hermione, but Harry and Ron, the
Hogwarts steroid giants of their year (no, it wasn't true that they were on steroids, but the
muscles spoke for themselves, didn't they), stepped in front of her. Draco sneered and made an
inappropriate gesture in the general direction of the three before stalking off. He had an
interesting letter to write to his father.
AND SO, THE STUDENTS GET AHOLD OF THE SCRIPT
Hermione slammed the script down on the coffee table, as the entire seventh year class of
Hogwarts watched her in amazement. Draco leaned against a wall close to Hermione, having been
co-president of the entire operation.
"It has come to our attention that the teachers are purposely trying to embarrass us out of our
arses," Hermione began, eyes scanning across the crowd.
"Granger and I have been talking for a bit about this stupid play," Draco added, glaring at the
script, than at Hermione. "We've been trying to come up with a solution to the embarrassment, that
won't be spotted until too late, and we think we've found one, if you're all willing to cooperate
and," he paused, "get along for the time being.
Hermione nodded. "Usually, I wouldn't piss the teachers off. And this will be pissing the
teachers off, especially Snape, who I know went back through the early script and added an
unnecessary relationship to Tybalt and Paris when he found out Ron and Harry had been assigned
those parts. But I have a reputation to withhold, and if defying all of Hogwarts the right to see
me lip-locked with Ferret-Boy, than so be it," she said. Draco nodded in agreement.
"I'm supposed to be a bad-ass guy. Becoming swoony and mushy and smooching on Granger won't
help," he snorted.
"Than what do you suggest we do?" Harry asked, a skeptical look on his face, arms folded.
Hermione's face slowly turned into an evil grin, and she picked up her quill.
"Ladies and gents of the seventh year," she stated, clearly, "the re-writing process begins."
Scene 1, act one
Harry fidgeted with his attire. "This isn't funny," he muttered, glaring at the hose that clad
his legs. Ron plucked at his own nylo- hose.
"How did they wear this back then and there? Merlin, I can see the outline of my-" Ron was
saying, before he was rudely cut off.
"Save it, Ron. We don't want to hear about it," Hermione muttered from behind the broom closet
door. She hadn't come out since Lavendar and Parvati, the costume and make-up crew, had finished
with her. For the past five minutes, she'd been ranting about how the two had gotten off easy, and
that since she were Head Girl, she was entitled to privileges. Such as not being seen on stage in a
corset and squashed her boobs.
Harry, whose eyes had been covered due to Ron's comment, groped out for Ron's tunic, untucked
it, and pulled it down as to cover his-
"That's better. I wish you would keep your thoughts to yourself, Ron," Harry muttered, slowly
uncovering his eyes.
Snape sauntered backstage of the temporary auditorium that had been built on the beloved Great
Hall. He stopped for several seconds in front of Harry and Ron, and continued off, doing his best
not to laugh. It was rich, that is was, seeing the Golden Trio in hose and... dresses, for
Hermione's case.
Lavendar rushed by, pounding on the broom closet door. "HERMIONE! You can't stay in there all
night!" she yelled through the door. Hermione snorted from within.
"Says who?" she wanted to know.
Draco, who had been walking by for the commotion, rolled his eyes and pulled out his wand,
pointing it at the door and whispering "Alohomora!" With a flash, Hermione tumbled out of the broom
closet as the door flew open, landing gracefully on her behind. Brown, poofy tresses flew everywhere
as the dis-shelved Head Girl glared at the Head Boy, who, much to her amusement, wore silver,
blue, and black in the form of a tunic, hose, and a ~blouse~. It was a frilly blouse, too. One her
mother might have worn to mass on Sundays, or to an important business meeting.
"Nice shirt, Malfoy. My mom might want to borrow it when you're done," Hermione snickered,
standing up and brushing off her hands. Draco raised his eyebrows at the breast-flattening corset.
"Perhaps you might want to borrow it, Granger. Seems you don't have much of a shirt yourself,"
he sneered.
The slight blush to Hermione's made-up cheeks was all the reply he needed as she stormed off.
Hooch glared at the students behind stage. "Curtain call, now. All of you in the first scene.
Get into places," she informed them, as the students sulked into position.
AND SO WE BEGIN...
Hannah Abbot and Dean Thomas shuffled out onto the stage, the crowd of students and teachers
becoming quiet (or, for some cases, breaking into fits of giggles, as some people do when they see
a guy wearing overly-tight pantyhose). "We're here to sing the prologue of the play," Hannah
informed the crowd, beginning her ~slightly~ adjusted lines. Dean nodded.
"Basically, we give away the plot of the whole story. Two people from two different worlds fall
in love with each other. They get married and their parents don't know. Then, the bastard of the
story decides to kill the chick's cousin and gets banished. So, she pretends to kill herself, and
he finds out, comes over, kills himself, she wakes up, finds him dead, then REALLY kills herself,
and the families make up, such on, and so forth," Dean informed them.
Hannah nodded. "Yeah. Something about them being star-crossed lovers or something like that. But
Dean got it pretty clear. Now, for many more men in nylons and many more girls with not enough of a
shirt," she finished, bowing her way off the stage. From a peephole, Hermione could see the strange
twinkle of Dumbledore's eyes grow. He wouldn't stop them now that they had begun. And the
performance was going as planned, and the curtain was being raised.
Several odd boys from the Ravenclaw and Slytherin houses loitered the almost realistic street
on the stage, leaning against a wall. "Look. Here comes the jerk-offs from the Gryffindor house.
Why don't we insult them?" one boy asked, raising his middle finger at the Gryffindor and
Hufflepuff housees passing by.
Seamus, our proud Mercrutio, raised his eyebrows. "Do you raise your middle finger, bastard?"
he asked.
The Slytherin with his finger raised shrugged. "Yep. Seems accurate."
"Do you raise it at me?" Seamus wanted to know.
"Nope. I just raise it in general," was his reply.
"DIE, BASTARD!" he cried, pulling out his sword and running it through random people that got
anywhere near him.
Several minutes of Seamus's merciless killing, and the shouts of "YOU IDIOT! I'M ON YOUR SIDE!"
from his fellow Gryffindor and Hufflepuff followers, shouts of horns and trumpets were heard, and
onto the stage rode Goyle, on top of a chariot pulled by first-years.
"To be, or not to be, that is the question!" he cried in an overly dumb voice. Backstage,
Hermione and Draco alike banged their heads against the marble pillars that supported the hall.
Dean stuck his head out from behind the curtain, smiling sheepishly. "So, the dude says, "STOP
THIS HOUSE QUARRLING, PEASANTS! GO HOME NOW!" and they do," he translated. The chariot took off,
Goyle pondering over a plastic skull Hermione knew he had gotten off of Snape's skeletal figure of
the human body. Boy hadn't the Head of Houses done a great job choosing the parts for people.
Like? Dislike? Absolutely hate? . Please, review.
I know most of my facts on Romeo and Juliet, having just finished a final from December on the
damn unit. God, I hate English. Anything that has been left out of the story that was in the
original play, or any bit that has been added to the story that wasn't in the play is my own doing.
I love godplaying through writing... heh heh heh