Hermione wasn't late to Charms, but it was close. "About time," Harry whispered as she took her seat between him and Dean Thomas. "Where have you been?"
"I had to talk to Professor Snape about the play," she replied, "and I ended up making some Deflating Draught."
"Deflating Draught?" Dean said. "What are you, Snape's little lackey?"
"'Little lackey'?" Hermione repeated in an injured tone of voice. "Nice use of alliterations, Dean, but I am no one's lackey."
Dean immediately felt sorry for what he said. "Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean it like that. It just came out that way. What I mean is... well, you see..." He couldn't find the words to express what he was feeling, and gave up.
"You're spending a lot of time with Professor Snape," Harry said.
Dean nodded. "Yeah. That's what I meant."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Believe me, it's not because I want to, although I have to admit that he's been a lot nicer since we started working on Macbeth."
"Not to Neville," Dean grumbled. In Potions yesterday, Neville accidently added too much of an ingredient, and it exploded. Gryffindor had twenty points taken off, and Neville received a detention. "You'd think that would change; he did, after all, make Neville Macbeth."
"Actually, I made Neville Macbeth," Hermione said. "Professor Snape wasn't there when he read, and it was my call. He hasn't even heard Neville yet, but after the reading tonight, I think his attitude toward Neville will change."
Harry was about to say something, but stopped when Professor Flitwick stood up on the pile of books behind his desk and asked for their attention. "Good morning, everyone," the tiny Charms instructor said. "Today, we're going to be starting our unit on the Fidelius Charm. This is a very complex and powerful charm, and it will take us several days to cover it. Please open your textbooks to page two forty-four and read to page two fifty-six."
The students complied, but as she read, Hermione found it difficult to focus on Charms. She'd read about the Fidelius Charm during a bout with insomnia one night several months ago, and was already familiar with the material Flitwick assigned them. Her mind began to wander, and it eventually came to rest on the conversation she'd just had with Harry and Dean. So, her friends thought she was spending a lot of time with Snape. She didn't know why they were so concerned. She was the director of the school play, and he was the assistant director. Of course they would be spending a lot of time together. They had to in order for the play to work. And making the potion - that was just doing a favor. She owed him for what he told her about Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. He didn't have to tell her, but he did. She didn't have to make the potion, but she did. They were even.
Hermione's thoughts drifted to the conversation she had with Snape when they were making Deflating Draught. What she told Harry and Dean wasn't exactly the truth. Spending her free time mixing potions with Professor Snape wasn't her idea of a good time, but she had to admit that the experience was a lot more enjoyable than she thought it would be. Shakespeare brought out his good side; up until then, it was thought that Snape's two sides were bad and worse. She recalled the two moments while making the potions where their hands had touched, and she felt her cheeks growing warm. Since when did a chance brushing of skin produce such a reaction?
~~~
After classes that day ended, Hermione hurried over to the Potions classroom for the all-call. She managed to beat everyone there except Snape, but that was a given; it was, after all, his room. "I've been handing out scripts all day," she informed him as she came in. "I'm almost sure that I've gotten everyone. You and I each have our own scripts, and then there'll be a third we both share that will have all the blocking, notes, and what not."
Snape nodded in understanding. "Well done. Very insightful. When can we get started?"
"Everyone should be here in about ten minutes."
"Good. Can you take a look at this, please?"
She walked over to his desk. On it was a script, open to the seventh scene in Act One. Next to it was a scroll with about six inches of writing. "Blocking ideas?" she asked.
"Not really; it's more like notes on the characters," he answered. "I've been doing some thinking on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, as you can see by that scroll. Could you look it over and see if you agree?"
Hermione never thought Snape would be asking her to approve something of his creation before. "Sure," she said, and began reading. A smile crossed her face, and she moved the paper a little bit closer to her eyes.
Snape was confused. "I don't recall writing anything amusing in there, Miss Granger."
"It's not that," she said. "It's just that you write so small... I can barely see it. It's even smaller than my writing."
"I wouldn't say that," Snape replied. "You should try correcting one of your essays sometime. I'm going to lose my eyesight over you someday."
She didn't reply, but kept smiling and continued to read.
"It mostly centers around the relationship between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth," Snape explained. "I'm having trouble deciding if they really loved each other or if they were just each other's pawns."
"I don't know," Hermione said, and set the scroll down. "That's a good question. I think they did; after all, when they have their first scene together, he calls her 'my dearest love'. And if they don't love each other all through the play, then I think they at least did in the beginning. It could go either way, I suppose. When he finds out that she's dead, he could say 'she should have died hereafter / there would have been time for such a word' like he's really heartbroken and he's sad that he can't mourn her now or like he doesn't have time for this and her death is just a bee in his bonnet."
"You said this was the speech Longbottom delivered in his audition. How did he read it?"
Hermione paused before answering to remember how Neville had read. "He read it like he was sad."
"Then we'll try it like that for now and see what we can do with it."
~~~
By three ten, the entire cast was assembled in the Potions classroom. Everyone had a script, and they were waiting for Hermione's instructions. "Okay, everyone," Hermione said upon seeing that they were ready. "We're going to try to get through the entire play once. Don't worry about correct pronunciations or phrasing. We'll work on that during scene rehearsals and individual sessions. Just keep reading, and we'll only stop you if it's absolutely necessary. Any questions?"
No one said anything.
"Okay, then," said Hermione. "First witch, go."
"When shall we three meet again?" Lisa Turpin read. "In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"
"When the hurlyburly's done, when the battle's lost and won," said Lavender Brown.
"That will be ere the set of sun," read Tracey Davis.
Hermione made random notes on her script as her fellow students read through the lines, showing them to Snape every once in a while. He, too, was taking notes, and when they agreed on something, one of them would write it down in the shared script. She was focused more on working with the assistant director than listening to the reading - it was, after all, more for them than her - but she did keep an ear out for when the character of Macbeth entered the story. She wanted to prove to Snape that her choice for Macbeth was the best one.
A few minutes later, the time was almost at hand. Draco Malfoy, as Banquo, had delivered his speeches with only minor errors. Neville's first two lines were short and rather easy, neither making nor breaking the role, but his first speech was coming up fast, and that was when everyone would see. Hermione was getting shivers up her spine from excitement. She couldn't wait to see Snape's reaction.
"Though shalt get kings, though thou be none," Tracey read. "So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!"
"Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!" said Lisa.
Hermione had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling. They were in for a surprise... assuming, of course, that Neville didn't let her down. She didn't think he would.
"Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: by Sinel's death I know that I am Thane of Glamis; but how of Cawdor?" Neville said. "The Thane of Cawdor lives, a prosperous gentleman; and to be king stands not within the prospect of belief, no more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence you owe this strange intelligence? Or why upon this blasted heath you stop our way with such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you."
Silence.
Neville glanced around the room nervously. Everyone except Hermione was staring at him with dumbfounded looks on their faces. His heart sank. Had he really read that horribly? So much for Hermione's notion that he could pull off Macbeth.
"Banquo, that's your cue," Hermione said.
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
"Come on, Banquo," said Hermione. "Let's go."
"Merlin's beard, Neville, where on earth did you learn to read like that?" Draco exclaimed.
"That's not the line," said Hermione.
Neville covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry, Hermione! I tried!"
"Stop breaking character!" Hermione said.
"Why didn't you tell us you were such a good reader?" asked Susan Bones.
Neville dropped his hands. "I was good?"
Everyone nodded.
"Yeah, Neville, you were very good," Hermione said. "I told you. Now, Banquo, line: The earth hath bubbles..."
"The earth hath bubbles as the water has, and these are of them," Draco said quickly. Slowing down, he finished the line. "Whither are they vanished?"
Hermione felt a hand gripping her arm. "Miss Granger," Snape whispered, "out in the hall. Now."
"Keep going, everyone," Hermione said as she and Snape left the room. Once they were outside, she asked, "Is something wrong, Professor?"
Snape was absolutely blown away, and it showed. His eyes were wide, his brow was wrinkled, and he was practically gasping for air. He almost looked scared. "How could I have doubted you?"
She smiled at him. "An understandable error, Professor."
"Longbottom's amazing," Snape said. "I've heard some good reading before, but he is by far the best. If he gets over that little confidence problem of his, then those skills of his are going to take him places."
"You really think so?"
He nodded. "I know so." A rare smile crossed his face, and it was happy, which was even rarer. "Julius Caesar was good, but this is going to blow it out of the water."
~~~
"Hey, Neville!" Harry called as the students were leaving two hours later after the read-through was done.
Neville was halfway to the door when Harry called out his name. He stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"
Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Parvati dropped to their knees, bowed, and said in unison, "We are not worthy!"
"I had to talk to Professor Snape about the play," she replied, "and I ended up making some Deflating Draught."
"Deflating Draught?" Dean said. "What are you, Snape's little lackey?"
"'Little lackey'?" Hermione repeated in an injured tone of voice. "Nice use of alliterations, Dean, but I am no one's lackey."
Dean immediately felt sorry for what he said. "Sorry," he apologized. "I didn't mean it like that. It just came out that way. What I mean is... well, you see..." He couldn't find the words to express what he was feeling, and gave up.
"You're spending a lot of time with Professor Snape," Harry said.
Dean nodded. "Yeah. That's what I meant."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Believe me, it's not because I want to, although I have to admit that he's been a lot nicer since we started working on Macbeth."
"Not to Neville," Dean grumbled. In Potions yesterday, Neville accidently added too much of an ingredient, and it exploded. Gryffindor had twenty points taken off, and Neville received a detention. "You'd think that would change; he did, after all, make Neville Macbeth."
"Actually, I made Neville Macbeth," Hermione said. "Professor Snape wasn't there when he read, and it was my call. He hasn't even heard Neville yet, but after the reading tonight, I think his attitude toward Neville will change."
Harry was about to say something, but stopped when Professor Flitwick stood up on the pile of books behind his desk and asked for their attention. "Good morning, everyone," the tiny Charms instructor said. "Today, we're going to be starting our unit on the Fidelius Charm. This is a very complex and powerful charm, and it will take us several days to cover it. Please open your textbooks to page two forty-four and read to page two fifty-six."
The students complied, but as she read, Hermione found it difficult to focus on Charms. She'd read about the Fidelius Charm during a bout with insomnia one night several months ago, and was already familiar with the material Flitwick assigned them. Her mind began to wander, and it eventually came to rest on the conversation she'd just had with Harry and Dean. So, her friends thought she was spending a lot of time with Snape. She didn't know why they were so concerned. She was the director of the school play, and he was the assistant director. Of course they would be spending a lot of time together. They had to in order for the play to work. And making the potion - that was just doing a favor. She owed him for what he told her about Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. He didn't have to tell her, but he did. She didn't have to make the potion, but she did. They were even.
Hermione's thoughts drifted to the conversation she had with Snape when they were making Deflating Draught. What she told Harry and Dean wasn't exactly the truth. Spending her free time mixing potions with Professor Snape wasn't her idea of a good time, but she had to admit that the experience was a lot more enjoyable than she thought it would be. Shakespeare brought out his good side; up until then, it was thought that Snape's two sides were bad and worse. She recalled the two moments while making the potions where their hands had touched, and she felt her cheeks growing warm. Since when did a chance brushing of skin produce such a reaction?
~~~
After classes that day ended, Hermione hurried over to the Potions classroom for the all-call. She managed to beat everyone there except Snape, but that was a given; it was, after all, his room. "I've been handing out scripts all day," she informed him as she came in. "I'm almost sure that I've gotten everyone. You and I each have our own scripts, and then there'll be a third we both share that will have all the blocking, notes, and what not."
Snape nodded in understanding. "Well done. Very insightful. When can we get started?"
"Everyone should be here in about ten minutes."
"Good. Can you take a look at this, please?"
She walked over to his desk. On it was a script, open to the seventh scene in Act One. Next to it was a scroll with about six inches of writing. "Blocking ideas?" she asked.
"Not really; it's more like notes on the characters," he answered. "I've been doing some thinking on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth, as you can see by that scroll. Could you look it over and see if you agree?"
Hermione never thought Snape would be asking her to approve something of his creation before. "Sure," she said, and began reading. A smile crossed her face, and she moved the paper a little bit closer to her eyes.
Snape was confused. "I don't recall writing anything amusing in there, Miss Granger."
"It's not that," she said. "It's just that you write so small... I can barely see it. It's even smaller than my writing."
"I wouldn't say that," Snape replied. "You should try correcting one of your essays sometime. I'm going to lose my eyesight over you someday."
She didn't reply, but kept smiling and continued to read.
"It mostly centers around the relationship between Macbeth and Lady Macbeth," Snape explained. "I'm having trouble deciding if they really loved each other or if they were just each other's pawns."
"I don't know," Hermione said, and set the scroll down. "That's a good question. I think they did; after all, when they have their first scene together, he calls her 'my dearest love'. And if they don't love each other all through the play, then I think they at least did in the beginning. It could go either way, I suppose. When he finds out that she's dead, he could say 'she should have died hereafter / there would have been time for such a word' like he's really heartbroken and he's sad that he can't mourn her now or like he doesn't have time for this and her death is just a bee in his bonnet."
"You said this was the speech Longbottom delivered in his audition. How did he read it?"
Hermione paused before answering to remember how Neville had read. "He read it like he was sad."
"Then we'll try it like that for now and see what we can do with it."
~~~
By three ten, the entire cast was assembled in the Potions classroom. Everyone had a script, and they were waiting for Hermione's instructions. "Okay, everyone," Hermione said upon seeing that they were ready. "We're going to try to get through the entire play once. Don't worry about correct pronunciations or phrasing. We'll work on that during scene rehearsals and individual sessions. Just keep reading, and we'll only stop you if it's absolutely necessary. Any questions?"
No one said anything.
"Okay, then," said Hermione. "First witch, go."
"When shall we three meet again?" Lisa Turpin read. "In thunder, lightning, or in rain?"
"When the hurlyburly's done, when the battle's lost and won," said Lavender Brown.
"That will be ere the set of sun," read Tracey Davis.
Hermione made random notes on her script as her fellow students read through the lines, showing them to Snape every once in a while. He, too, was taking notes, and when they agreed on something, one of them would write it down in the shared script. She was focused more on working with the assistant director than listening to the reading - it was, after all, more for them than her - but she did keep an ear out for when the character of Macbeth entered the story. She wanted to prove to Snape that her choice for Macbeth was the best one.
A few minutes later, the time was almost at hand. Draco Malfoy, as Banquo, had delivered his speeches with only minor errors. Neville's first two lines were short and rather easy, neither making nor breaking the role, but his first speech was coming up fast, and that was when everyone would see. Hermione was getting shivers up her spine from excitement. She couldn't wait to see Snape's reaction.
"Though shalt get kings, though thou be none," Tracey read. "So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo!"
"Banquo and Macbeth, all hail!" said Lisa.
Hermione had to bite the inside of her lip to keep herself from smiling. They were in for a surprise... assuming, of course, that Neville didn't let her down. She didn't think he would.
"Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: by Sinel's death I know that I am Thane of Glamis; but how of Cawdor?" Neville said. "The Thane of Cawdor lives, a prosperous gentleman; and to be king stands not within the prospect of belief, no more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence you owe this strange intelligence? Or why upon this blasted heath you stop our way with such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you."
Silence.
Neville glanced around the room nervously. Everyone except Hermione was staring at him with dumbfounded looks on their faces. His heart sank. Had he really read that horribly? So much for Hermione's notion that he could pull off Macbeth.
"Banquo, that's your cue," Hermione said.
Draco opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
"Come on, Banquo," said Hermione. "Let's go."
"Merlin's beard, Neville, where on earth did you learn to read like that?" Draco exclaimed.
"That's not the line," said Hermione.
Neville covered his face with his hands. "I'm sorry, Hermione! I tried!"
"Stop breaking character!" Hermione said.
"Why didn't you tell us you were such a good reader?" asked Susan Bones.
Neville dropped his hands. "I was good?"
Everyone nodded.
"Yeah, Neville, you were very good," Hermione said. "I told you. Now, Banquo, line: The earth hath bubbles..."
"The earth hath bubbles as the water has, and these are of them," Draco said quickly. Slowing down, he finished the line. "Whither are they vanished?"
Hermione felt a hand gripping her arm. "Miss Granger," Snape whispered, "out in the hall. Now."
"Keep going, everyone," Hermione said as she and Snape left the room. Once they were outside, she asked, "Is something wrong, Professor?"
Snape was absolutely blown away, and it showed. His eyes were wide, his brow was wrinkled, and he was practically gasping for air. He almost looked scared. "How could I have doubted you?"
She smiled at him. "An understandable error, Professor."
"Longbottom's amazing," Snape said. "I've heard some good reading before, but he is by far the best. If he gets over that little confidence problem of his, then those skills of his are going to take him places."
"You really think so?"
He nodded. "I know so." A rare smile crossed his face, and it was happy, which was even rarer. "Julius Caesar was good, but this is going to blow it out of the water."
~~~
"Hey, Neville!" Harry called as the students were leaving two hours later after the read-through was done.
Neville was halfway to the door when Harry called out his name. He stopped and turned around. "Yeah?"
Harry, Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Parvati dropped to their knees, bowed, and said in unison, "We are not worthy!"