Disclaimer: You know what's Ms. Rowling's. (Harry, Dumbledore, Voldemort, Flitwick…) Miriam, Howard, Nile, and a few other things are original ideas. Nixon and other parameters belong to Flourish for her June 2000 Challenge.
Dragon Scales
~
The Hogsmeade Auditorium
Is Reserved
Solely
For
The rehearsals of
"In the Black of the Night..."
"Harry, psst, Harry." The voice sounded very familiar, and as Harry spun around, he blinked. Right behind him, getting jostled left and right by the crowd, was a man with a woolen hat pulled down low and a bushy mustache. "Do I kn--Sirius? Why are you dressed like that?"
"Sirius? You look like—like—d" Hermione began to giggle silently.
He scowled. "Shh. There are people here who still think I'm guilty. Dumbledore doesn't want trouble. Come in here. They've just posted up the cast members." Harry, Hermione, and Ron followed Sirius through the double doors and into the building.
Miriam Marwood—starring as Lily Potter
Nile Nixon—starring as James Potter
Howard Hale—starring as Peter Pettigrew
Rubeus Hagrid and Harry Potter will play their own parts
Other cast members:
Neville Longbottom—Dudley Dursley
Severus Snape—Vernon Dursley
Cynthia Sinistra—Petunia Dursley
Directors—Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall
Special Effects—Gunther Flitwick
Extras: Hermione Granger
Ron Weasley…
"Snape doesn't look too happy." Harry pointed out. The professor's nose was high in the air, his face more menacing than ever.
"Poor Neville. He has to work with Snape now."
Ron frowned. "Siri-er-Snuffles, they didn't put your name on the list!"
"I told you, some people are still skeptical and—"
Further conversation was cut off by a squeal behind them. A balding, short man with a trivial paunch was gabbling eagerly with a tall wizard in casual tan robes and sneakers. "Calm down, Howard." The tall man looked slightly amused at the antics of the excited wizard.
"Excuse me, are you Nile?" A small, delicate-looking woman tapped the tall wizard on the shoulder.
"Yup. Nile Nixon at your service. Are you Miriam?"
"Yes. Pleased to meet you. Congratulations on getting your part. And you too, Howard."
Suddenly, the voice of Minerva McGonagall was heard through the loudspeaker, vibrating loudly around the entire room. "Will the cast members please assemble in the Green Room. Everyone else may leave."
* * *
"Those of you here all know that Sirius is innocent. And the Ministry agrees. But we must perform this play to convince the general public." Cornelius Fudge glanced at all the actors seated around the table before continuing. "And now I shall introduce your fellow actors." He began rattling off names.
"Howard Hale as Pettigrew... Sirius as himself...For today, Albus will be directing scenes two and six. And Minerva, scenes three and four."
"And who will be playing the Dark Lord?"
Fudge glared at Flitwick, and said stiffly, "As everyone else was reluctant to do so, I was pressured to take the part."
Five minutes later, the rehearsals had begun. On stage, Harry Potter was lying inside a small bed. He was two feet long, having drank a goblet full of Shrinking Potion, the same stuff used to turn Neville's toad into a tadpole.
Nearby, Flitwick was teaching Fudge how to make a harmless explosion.
"Remember, the words are Viridian Endosulfurite," squeaked Flitwick. "It will create a dazzling green light and a loud bang not unlike the spell You-Know-Who cast on Harry that night in Godric's Hollow. However, this is completely harmless. But, you must whisper it. Everyone knows the real spell was, well…repeat after me, Viridian Endosulfurite!"
A noise like firecrackers gushed out from the end of his wand. At the same time, bright green light flashed upon the stage.
"I see." Fudge said, taking his position beside the crib. After glancing around, he bellowed, "Viridian Endosulfurite!"
"Good, good," McGonagall interrupted. "But, you have to whisper the spell! Remember whom you are portraying. You've got to act more confident."
In an unused room, Dumbledore was directing his actors.
"Now Sirius, stand off to the side and enter from stage left. No--turn slightly, that's it--so we can see your face. We'd much rather see that than your behind."
"Hold your wand up, Howard," continued Dumbledore. "Remember, you have to cut off a finger before transforming."
Howard beamed. "Cool! I've always wanted to know how special effects work! You know, in that movie "Quest for the Lost Wand," that guy had to conjure up 45 different dragons just to make that scene in the core of the earth work. Have you ever seen that movie? It's the best! It's just simply—"
Dumbledore cut in rather hastily. "Hmm...an illusion trick should work. As for transforming...you'll have to Disapparate backstage and conjure up a rat."
"Good job everyone, by the fifth rehearsal I will expect you all to know your lines by heart." McGonagall announced at the end of the rehearsal. "Costume measurements will be taken next practice. Any last words, Albus?"
Albus Dumbledore had discovered a packet of lemon drops. Somewhat preoccupied, he said, "Ah, yes. We've ordered lunch from the Three Broomsticks. As well as plenty of Butterbeer for all."
They sat down to dine, and Miriam found herself next to Nile Nixon. When she accidentally dropped her napkin, he at once bent to pick it up. What a gentleman he is, thought Miriam. Not like that Howard Hale, who had sauce dripping down his shirt. She shot him a disapproving glance.
As they talked, Miriam learned that Nixon had wizarding parents and grew up in Wales. His acting career was quite rewarding. He had traveled all around the world, even playing the role of Godric Gryffindor for "Hogwarts, the Founding" at one point. It made her wonder why he wasn't acting in one of London's professional wizard theaters.
When almost everyone had left, Miriam helped McGonagall clear away the props into a big closet.
"Oh Minerva, Nile told me he had misplaced his script. He asked me to get another one for him by the next rehearsal because he had to leave early today."
Already? Minerva thought dubiously as she neatly put away the collapsible crib into a corner. "There is one extra copy on the piano. You may copy it, but please return the original back to me."
Fudge stumbled in, wearing a frown. "Has anyone seen the whereabouts of my wand? I left it on a table backstage and now it's not here!"
"What kind of wand?" asked Miriam, who had Summoned up the script.
"Twelve inches. Cedar, with dragon scales at both ends." Fudge said distractedly.
"Here it is." McGonagall spied it lying in a corner.
"Thanks. I've been using this for so many years. I can't afford to lose it."
As Fudge left, Minerva frowned at his retreating back. She vaguely wondered why he had let his wand out of his sight. It was a very foolish thing to do.
* * *
Two weeks later, Minerva was the first to arrive at rehearsal. On top of the stage was an enormous box labeled "Costumes."
"Finally." She commented; pulling out the first article of clothing, which happened to be a cerulean cloak, made for Miriam. She stared disbelievingly at the cloak, which was big enough for a small sheet. Annoyed, she tried to shorten it with her wand, but it came out lopsided. "Reparo," she muttered, and the cloak resumed its old size.
McGonagall pulled out costume after costume, scowling darkly. Each looked almost big enough for Hagrid. "At least Neville's clothes will fit."
"Accio costume list." To make matters worse, Nile's cloak and Harry's booties were missing.
By now there was a pile of clothes, ankle deep, all around her. With a flick of her wand the costumes began folding themselves into a neat pile, which in the end towered over her head. The heap swayed slightly, then toppled over at her feet. Minerva sighed, and Banished them, disheveled, back into the box.
"Albus, who made them?" she asked anxiously, five minutes later.
"Belinda Bulk, the Hogsmeade seamstress." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he pulled up the cerulean cloak.
Minerva had sometimes seen Belinda, a fat, sour witch with frazzled hair who mumbled to herself constantly, in the Three Broomsticks. She'd always found Belinda very tiresome and trying.
"Suppose we send them back with more precise measurements?" she said tightly.
"Yes…that would be wise."
* * *
All the props had been dragged out to their needed positions, and Albus Dumbledore was beginning play practice.
"Okay, this is our last rehearsal everyone! Make it a good one!" He was standing onstage, yelling over the exciting conversations of actors. "Great! Everyone! Places! Minerva, start the introductory music!"
He nodded in her direction and she began to pound out a dark, ominous piece on the piano.
"Oh, Nile," said Dumbledore, hopping down from the stage. "We finally got hold of the perfect costume for you. It is just like the cloak James wore." Albus threw the deep red cloak in Nixon's direction. Nixon, who was sleeping, didn't catch the cloak, so it landed draping over his head.
Harry went up to Dumbledore, who was still chuckling at Nixon, sound asleep with his snores muffled by the cloak. Rather hesitantly, he said, "Sir, um…the baby booties for my costume. Do you have them?"
Albus Dumbledore twirled his wand and pointed at Hagrid. "Hagrid's kindly volunteered to knit your booties. He's our resident knitter around here."
Harry mumbled, "Right, great…yeah." He slowly walked over towards Hagrid.
"Yo, 'Arry! O'er 'ere. C'mon. See, Ah've got yer booties right 'ere!" he grinned, and pointed at a pillow-sized knitted thing with blue and orange stripes.
"Er—super, Hagrid, they're just great." lied Harry. He accidentally split some of his Shrinking Potion onto his booties when Hagrid wasn't looking.
Harry wasn't the only one with costume problems. Nile, who had awakened, bustled around, searching desperately for Professor McGonagall, who was at the piano.
"Has anyone seen that blinkin' woman?" he asked, talking to himself.
Hermione, who was nearby, overheard. "Mr. Nixon, who are you looking for?" she asked.
"Minerva."
"She's at the piano."
Nile stalked off, still clutching the cloak.
Hermione frowned at Nile's retreating figure, and protested, "Professor McGonagall is not a blinking woman."
When he approached the old upright, Nile dangled the cloak in Minerva's face. "This cloak is much too short, it doesn't even reach my knees! And, it's maroon! I thought it would be--"
Minerva, who was still playing the piano, glanced up at Nile.
"Mr. Nixon," she said. "Your cloak is burgundy. I'm sorry you do not like your costume, but you'll just have to deal with it."
Looking closer, she noticed bags under his eyes. Concerned, she asked if he was ill.
"No," snapped Nile, irritably. He shook his head and apologized. "I'm sorry, Minerva, for being rude. I guess I'm just tired.
"It's all right. Your attire will be adjusted and you may fit it on when rehearsal is over. For now, you'd better wear your own cloak. And hurry. Your scene is coming up soon."
Two shadows were flickering on stage. One of the silhouettes were tall and sinister; the other, short and kneeling.
Off stage, Cornelius Fudge began to speak in what he thought was a manly, commanding voice. "So, Pettigrew, is all going according to my plans?"
"Yes, master," whispered Howard in a scratchy tone.
"And have the Potters gone in hiding yet? Speak Pettigrew, you idle fool!"
Hale gave a realistic whimper. "Oh, powerful lord, they plan to perform the Fidelius Charm to hide themselves. Sirius Black is most likely to be their Secret Keeper!"
Fudge tried to let out a high cackle but croaked instead. In the audience, McGonagall scowled and shook her head, making a mental note to teach Fudge how to laugh properly.
Fudge continued. "Ah, Black, that rogue. Hmmm, convince this Black to make you the Secret Keeper. Then…."
Black grabbed stage-Pettigrew and said, "Wormtail, you'd better not tell anyone, not even Dumbledore, that you're the Secret Keeper. Remember, it's just between us, James and Lily."
The scene ended and the curtain came down, and there were footsteps indicating that Ron and Hermione were changing the props.
"So, Minerva, what do you think of our play so far?" asked Dumbledore, sitting next to her piano bench.
Professor McGonagall thought for a moment. "Miss Marwood is doing an admirable job today. However, Mr. Nixon seems quite exhausted. He's doing rather poorly."
She began watching the action on stage. Nile Nixon was pacing back and forth, stammering out his lines.
"Lily, darling," he said. "We'll all be perfectly safe. Peter…er--he'll never betray us. I trust him with…" His voice trailed off.
Albus shook his head. "No! You must stay in character, Nile. What'll happen if you couldn't recall your lines the night of the performance, and said, 'gee, sorry, I forgot?' You'll ruin the whole scene!"
Nile scoffed. "Still, it's better just one scene ruined than the whole performance. I don't think I'll be the one to make a mistake. I've acted before, and I'm used to the pressure. I can handle my nerves just fine." He smiled at Miriam.
She managed to smile back. How did I ever think he was a gentleman, she wondered. He's such a braggart. She mimicked Nile. "I never mess up. I can handle my nerves. I'm the best. Humph, I'll show him…."
* * *
Cornelius Fudge still couldn't get his evil laugh just right. He'd start out fine and end up wheezing. Professor McGonagall was trying to coach him.
"Cornelius, you must use your throat to get out those cackling sounds. Remember to use your diaphragm, it will help you get a deeper, darker sound. Are you paying attention?"
Cornelius Fudge had been immersed with a box of Every Flavor Beans during McGonagall's entire lecture. He had found a lumpy tan-colored bean. Cautiously, he licked the outer coating and then nibbled it.
Fudge twisted up his face, looked at McGonagall, and said, "Oatmeal. Er—it's rather lukewarm and rubbery. Nasty stuff. Would you like one? They're great fun to eat!"
With a sigh, Minerva said, "Cornelius, you'd better put down those beans and practice on that laugh of yours."
Fudge groaned. Then, he straightened up and made a squeaky sort of choking sound. Avoiding McGonagall's disapproving glance, he tried again with slightly better results.
Howard Hale and Sirius Black were onstage. Letting out a dramatic sob, stage-Pettigrew pointed at Sirius Black.
"You betrayed Lily and James. How could you? After all these years!" Howard cried, glancing at the manhole and then back to Sirius' wand.
"Excellent job!" shouted Dumbledore, sitting next to Professor McGonagall and Miriam Marwood. "Howard, be afraid to look Sirius in the eye, as if you were guilty! Perfect!" cried Dumbledore happily. He whispered to Minerva, "this play is going to be such a success."
Minerva wasn't listening because she and Miriam were caught up in a rather heated discussion.
"Trust me, he's up to no good." Said Miriam crossly.
"You have no evidence whatsoever. Are you sure this isn't just a personal grudge?"
Miriam started to say something, but stopped. Minerva didn't believe her, so what was the use? Maybe, thought Miriam, maybe I'm just paranoid. But deep down, she was sure her speculations were right.
The setting for the last scene was a tiny shack with a cold fireplace. Hagrid burst into the door and said proudly, "Harry, yer a wizard."
Snape, who was playing Uncle Vernon, protested loudly, waving a fake rifle madly in the air, threatening to shoot the giant intruder. With ease, Hagrid twisted the firearm into a pretzel. Professor Sinistra let out a tiny whimper. Then, he proceeded to turn a well-padded Neville, who was playing Dudley, into a pig-boy. The scene ended with Harry, un-shrunk, walking confidently through the barrier of Platform 9 ¾.
The curtain calls began as Minerva played the theme song.
"Ah, Severus, hold hands with Mr. Longbottom. Now, bow, and walk towards stage-left. Don't dawdle, please!" yelled Dumbledore.
When it all ended, he stood up and declared, "We are going to have a grand celebration because you've done so well!" With a wave of his wand, a scrumptious feast appeared.
Howard Hale looked confused. "But Mr. Dumbledore, shouldn't we have our party after our last performance?"
Dumbledore smiled. "No. We are having multiple parties. The more the better. Eat up everyone! Have a lemon drop. My treat!"
Hale thanked Albus from the lemon drop and popped it into his mouth. "Tasty," he said, grimacing. When Dumbledore wasn't looking, he spit it out into a nearby wastebasket.
* * *
People were laughing and eating. No one noticed Howard as he Spell-O taped a note on to the door before he slipped out. It read:
Sorry, I've got to run. Auntie Susie Que is in the emergency room. She needs a new liver. I've got to be with the family. I'll see you at the performance.
—Howie
Minerva weaved her way around the actors and actresses, holding a wine-colored cloak that had been altered to fit Nixon. She couldn't find him and she was annoyed that he had forgotten to try on his costume, after all the fuss he'd made. Her eyes narrowed with irritation as she scanned the room for Nixon.
Professor McGonagall bumped into Sirius, who was chugging down a tankard of Butterbeer. He spilt the beverage all over both of them. Miriam burst out laughing.
Stiffly taking out a hankie and mopping her face clean of Butterbeer, Minerva asked, "Sirius, have you seen Nixon?"
Black looked into the crowd of people. "Nope, can't say I have. Funny guy, huh? Who'd want to miss out on all this great food? Minerva—isn't Hale a pretty cool guy, overly enthusiastic, but still pretty nice. He has a pet Chihuahua and he owns an Apothecary. He told me the sales of bicorns went up, so he's going to stock up on some more. Was he at Hogwarts? I don't remember seeing him there. Say, where's that fellow anyway?"
The second part will be posted up ASAP. Hope you'll review!
~Jeli