I finally struck some inspiration for this story. It feels like forever since I've updated. But really guys, come on… no reviews? If anyone's reading this, constructive feedback would be much appreciated.

"Cut, cut… stop… just – for the love of… just stop!" Deb smacked the table with her clip board. "Come on guys, what is the first thing I tell you every year?" They had just started practice five minutes ago, and already Harry was sensing that it was going to be a long year. At the moment Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville were mulling around their dormitory set and running lines. Personally, Harry had thought it was going pretty smoothly; that is, until Deb had made them jump out of their skins by sneaking into the auditorium. Somehow she had managed to make her way all the way up to the front row without being noticed, so her outburst had been quite a shock to the five boys who had thought they were rehearsing in an empty auditorium.

"Don't just stand there like idiots, what do I tell you guys every year?" she persisted.

"Hermione, go spit out your gum?" Seamus tried. The director rolled her eyes.

"Besides that. What's the other thing I always tell you?" Harry racked his brain. She asked the question like it was so simple, but truth be told there were quite a few things she always told them. He could think of a few right on the tip of his tongue, although most of them were pretty graphic and/or obscene and he didn't dare voice any of them. No one else seemed to be able to come up with an adequate answer either, judging from their silence and fidgeting feet. Deb rolled her eyes again and huffed in frustration.

"Always, always, ALWAYS stay in character. Are you going to be talking like you're Americans on opening night? Heck no, so practice the way you're going to perform it."

"Right," Ron muttered to Dean, "I was just about to say that." She sat down at the table in front of the stage again and waited for them to resume. No one had stage fright per say or they wouldn't be Actors, but performing in front of the director from hell on the very first day of rehearsal was nerve racking to say the least. After all, no one likes getting chewed out, especially when you're still trying to get back into character. A couple of throats were cleared and they awkwardly tried their best to get back to what they had been doing before being interrupted.

"Ah, lunch… the best time of the day if you ask me." Ron sighed contentedly. The café was crowded with other Actors who were also on break. Harry recognized one of them as the fat man he'd seen that morning.

"Do you think that's supposed to Slughorn?" Harry asked Ron, who consulted their schedule.

"Must be. Hey, we work with him next." Ron pointed to the time sheet which showed Ron, Harry, and Professor Slughorn working on stage after lunch.

"Joy…" Harry muttered and took another bite of his sub. Ron followed suit, but managed to take off just a little too much. That's going to take a while to chew, Harry thought.

"Mmhmmerrm," Ron said after a moment.

"What?"

"Errmhmmm." Ron pointed over Harry's shoulder. He was just turning around when a voice behind him said:

"Hey guys, mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, Neville." Harry smiled and pulled up a chair for their friend from a neighboring table.

"What a way to start off, right?" Ron and Harry nodded their agreement as Neville dropped his tray on the table and sat down. "I mean, I always knew Romilda was crazy, but to send someone to the nurse's office on the first day… it has to be some sort of record." Ron and Harry simultaneously choked on their lunch upon hearing this news.

"Romilda Vane sent someone to the hospital?" Ron exclaimed once he'd regained his composure.

"No, not the hospital," Neville corrected him, "just the nurse's office."

"What happened?" Harry asked hoarsely, still massaging his throat after the rather painful experience of trying to expel soda from his lungs.

"Well, I'm not exactly sure… I think she said that she caught someone lurking outside the Props Department. She thought he looked suspicious, so she hit him over the head with a pair of brass knuckles."

"Romilda has brass knuckles?"

"Doesn't surprise me," Ron muttered.

"Well, who was it?" Harry pressed.

"I don't know," Neville shrugged, "Ernie caught her and sent whoever it was straight to Madam Pomphry."

"Harry, wah time ith it?" Ron asked through a mouthful of food. Harry checked his watch.

"About 1:30."

"We thtill got time, let'th go thee." Ron said as he managed to stuff yet even more of his sub into his mouth.

"What about my lunch?" Neville asked and looked longingly at his untouched tray.

"Come on," Harry said and grabbed Neville by the collar of his shirt, "bring it with you."

The plot will start picking up in the next chapter. Thanks for reading!