Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. I also don't own the concept of the magical theatre. That was taken from a book called Eyes Like Stars, which I recommend.
*Harry Potter characters may not act like they do in the books. That's because they're supposed to be actors not the real characters from the books.
With that said, enjoy!
The Theater was filled to the bursting point. Harry had to stand on a chair before he finally spotted a familiar head of orange hair. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Ron!" Ron's head whipped around in every direction, trying to figure out who'd called his name. "Ron!" Harry shouted again. Finally their eyes met and recognition set in.
"Well, long time no see." Ron clapped his friend on the back. He'd finally made his way over to Harry by pushing, elbowing, and even crawling between people's feet (much to Ginny's dislike, who had slapped him promptly over the head with her giant script). "Feisty aren't they?" Ron muttered, rubbing the back of his head and motioned toward Ginny. She glared back when she noticed the boys staring.
"Come on," Harry chuckled, "We better go get our scripts."
"Yeah, I guess there's no putting off the inevitable," Ron said, dejectedly.
The lobby seemed even more crowded than the auditorium. Everyone was either lined up at the ticket booth, where the stage manager Ernie was handing out scripts, or they were gathered around little, round tables in the café.
"Who do you suppose the new guy is?" Ron asked, jerking his thumb towards the café. Harry looked over to see a portly actor drinking coffee with Arthur Weasley. It seemed, Harry thought, as if the man were already in costume. A scoffing noise behind him caught his and Ron's attention. It was Ginny.
"Well, you would know if you'd read the book," she said, looking the two boys up and down with her ever critical eye.
"Now, let's not wish for miracles." Harry turned to see Fred and George had sauntered up behind them, just having come from getting their own parts.
"What's that?" Ron asked incredulously. He pointed to both of their rather flimsy scripts.
"This?" George smiled, "This represents how much time we have to spend with the demon director."
"Yep," Fred chimed in, "You should see your script though, little brother. It's like a novel." Judging by Ron's face, Harry would have guessed that Christmas had just been cancelled. Fred and George punched Ron's arm and wished him luck as they walked away, laughing at their own good fortune.
"It won't be that bad," said Harry, trying to convince himself as much as Ron. They finally reached the front of the line. Ernie looked them over a few times before reaching for his clipboard.
"Name?" he asked in a nasally voice and sniffed loudly. Harry raised his eyebrows (being incapable of only lifting one).
"Really, Ern? You've known us for five years." Ernie glared at them and sniffed again.
"Do you know how many actors I interact with every day, Potter? Too many to remember everyone, I can tell you that." Despite his grumbling, Ernie jotted their names down onto his clipboard and went the cubbies on the back wall to find their scripts.
"Look at that!" Ron whimpered quietly as Ernie staggered under the weight of both their scripts. "That's not a novel, it's an encyclopedia!" It did look a little frightening, Harry had to admit. They took their scripts from Ernie and started to make their way back to the auditorium.
"So," Ron started as they walked up front to take a seat on the edge of the stage, "I haven't seen any sign of Moldy yet. Where do you suppose he is?" Harry shrugged and realized that he hadn't seen their friend either. He opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the clamor of people all trying to make their way into the auditorium at once. "Well, this is it." Ron sighed resignedly. They stood up to find a seat before the actors rushing in could take all the good spots in the back row.
A lone figure walked on stage. She stood there for a moment, holding a microphone in her hand and looking up toward the sound booth. Harry saw her nod her head and mouth something to the sound guys above them. She nodded again and tapped the microphone just to be sure it was on.
"Hello, can I have everybody's attention?" The noise only slightly subsided, only a few people having heard her request. She made what Harry could only describe as a familiar expression. It was a look that clearly said that she would put up with no kind of nonsense. She placed the microphone back on the stand and reached into her purse. Harry squinted, trying to make out what she was holding.
"Uh oh," Ron muttered as both boys realized what it was. They had just enough time to plug their ears before the air horn went off into the microphone. The sound was deafening and easily caught the crowd's attention.
"Thank you," the speaker said, putting the device away. "And now if you could all do me a favor and move into the first few rows, that would be lovely." Everyone grumbled and moaned, but moved nonetheless for fear of losing their hearing altogether. She waited for everyone to settle down before addressing the crowd. "For those of you who don't know, my name is Debra Dolomite and I am the director here at The Theatre. As you all know, this year we are performing The Half Blood Prince. I've been e-mailing most of you for the last couple of months, encouraging you to read the book and the summary of your specific parts." Deb looked pointedly in Harry and Ron's direction before continuing.
Ron chuckled, "She knows us so well doesn't she?" he whispered.
About five minutes later, Ernie trudged on stage and handed Deb a binder. She glanced at and then took a pen from her purse. "So, I guess that's it for announcements. Now I know I ask this every year and every year I regret it, but does anyone have a problem with their parts?" Seamus raised his hand. "Yes, Finnigan?"
"Yeah, how are we supposed to know if we have a problem with our parts if we just got our scripts today?" Everyone groaned and Neville even moved away from Seamus and out of the line of fire.
"Were you listening to a word I said?" the director crossed her arms and stared at Seamus in an exasperated way that only Debra Dolomite could do. Seamus gulped and stayed silent, not knowing whether it would be more dangerous to lie or tell the truth. Deb made an O with her mouth and blew out a gust of air. Harry could almost see the tired circles beneath her eyes. "You were supposed to either read the book or read through the summary of your part that I spent hours typing up."
Some others tentatively asked questions after that, but most had sensed the danger in the room and had wisely decided not to voice their opinions. After answering multiple questions about costumes and makeup, Deb slowly began walking across the stage toward Harry and Ron. With each step her high heels clicked on the wood deliberately. Harry stared at his shoes, praying that she would not ask them if they had done the reading. The clicking stopped. Harry dared to look up through his lashes and saw those purple pointed heels standing directly in front of him.
"So, am I supposed to believe that you two have nothing to say?" she asked skeptically. Harry and Ron glanced at each other.
"Yeah, we're good," Ron said most convincingly. Deb smiled.
"So you're okay with the fact that you're making out with Lavender Brown most of the time?" Ron winced. She'd caught him. She'd caught him and she knew it.
Ron sniffed and cleared his throat. "Yep, no problem." He looked like he might throw-up, Harry thought. But then he thought of Ron trying to make out with Lavender and had to stifle a laugh. A snort managed to escape his mouth before he could cover it. Deb turned to Harry and smiled just as sweetly at him as she had at Ron. Uh, oh.
"And I suppose you're fine with kissing Ginny?" Harry hadn't thought it was possible to choke on his own saliva until he inhaled sharply and had to be slapped on the back a few times before he could regain his composure.
"Oh yeah," he managed to choke out. "No big deal." The director crossed her arms again and glared at the two of them.
"I don't have time for any of your shenanigans this year, got it? No fooling around, no horseplay, and don't waste my time or I'll have your hide." They nodded as solemnly as they could. She surveyed the crowd of actors for one more moment before dismissing them. "Take fifteen and not a second more."
"Well," Ron said as they headed over to the café, "comparatively, I'd say this is turning out to be a pretty good first day of practice."
"That's a good omen," Harry pointed out. "Who knows, maybe this year will be better than last year."
"Oh I know it will," Ron said, sitting down at one of the round tables. "We've got the paramedics on speed dial this year."