A/N: GASP! IT'S AN UPDATE! AAAACK!! Once again, I apologize for how long this took… stupid writer's block. Hope you enjoy.
"All right, everyone, backstage!" Ginny cried at the beginning of Saturday's rehearsal, clapping her hands together. "Come on! Let's go! We've got a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it!"
"She sounds like Hermione," Harry said to Neville and Ron as the three of them followed the rest of the cast backstage. The rooms behind the teachers' table in the Great Hall had been ordained as "backstage", and it was there that everyone gathered before beginning the dress rehearsal.
Neville nodded. "She does. That's kind of scary."
Ron shot Neville a surprised look. "Neville, are you okay? You sound kind of… hoarse."
"I'm all right," Neville assured him, and smiled to emphasize his point.
Harry frowned. He could see what Ron meant. Neville's voice did sound a little softer and hoarser than usual, and his skin looked a little pale. "Maybe you should go see Madam Pomfrey," he suggested.
"Are you kidding?" Neville said. "Ten seconds before a dress rehearsal? Ginny'll kill me, and if she doesn't, Hermione will."
"Okay, people, listen up!" Ginny boomed. "It's exactly twenty-five days until opening night, and we aren't even close to ready!"
"Now she really sounds like Hermione," Ron whispered to Harry and Neville.
"Ron, pay attention!" said Ginny.
"Even more so now," said Harry, and the three boys had to try very hard to keep from laughing.
Ginny glared at them, then continued. "Okay. This is our first full off-book rehearsal with blocking. There's a lot of pressure on us to do a good job. Please, please, please give one hundred percent in this rehearsal. And when we're done, I need Colin, Terry, Vince, Greg, and Draco to stay behind, and Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin are going to come by and teach you the choreography for Banquo's death scene."
Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other. They weren't used to being called Vince and Greg.
Ginny clapped her hands. "Okay! Places, everyone! Witches, onstage! Everyone else, backstage! Let's move!"
"But who did bid thee join with us?" Crabbe, the first murderer, said as he, Goyle, and Terry came onstage for the last scene in Act One, where Banquo was murdered.
"Macbeth," Terry, the third murderer, replied in an innocent tone of voice.
Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other, then Goyle, the second murderer, said, "He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers our offices and what we have to do to the direction just."
A hint of a smile flickered on Terry's face.
"Then stand with us," Crabbe said to Terry. "The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: now spurs the lated traveler apace to gain the timely inn; and near approaches the subject of our watch."
"Hark!" Terry exclaimed. "I hear horses!"
"Give us a light there, ho!" Draco called from offstage.
"Then 'tis he: the rest that are within the note of expectation already are i' the court," Terry said, stepping between Crabbe and Goyle.
"His horses go about," said Crabbe.
"Almost a mile: but he does usually, so all men do, from hence to the palace gate make it their walk," Terry replied.
"A light!" Goyle exclaimed. "A light!"
The three murderers took several steps back; Hermione told them they would eventually be hiding behind a tree once the set was built.
Draco and Colin came onstage. Draco was carrying his wand, which they were pretending to use as the torch for the time being.
"Tis he," said Terry.
"Stand to 't," said Crabbe.
Draco looked at Colin. "It will be rain tonight," he said.
"Let it come down," said Crabbe, and the three murders came out.
"O, treachery!" Draco cried. "Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly!"
Colin started running, but Goyle stepped in his way without realizing it, and Colin tripped over him and landed on Draco, who in turn when sailing into Crabbe and then fell to the ground. Crabbe was so surprised that he fell, too, and landed right on Draco. Terry, dumbfounded, took a few steps back, then said, "Ginny!"
Ginny dashed out onto the stage. "What the…"
Terry helped Crabbe off of Draco, whose face was twisted with pain. "Malfoy, you all right?" Ginny asked, dropping down to her knees next to her fellow thespian.
"What, I'm not Draco anymore?" he asked through clenched teeth.
Ginny had seen Draco fake injuries many times before, but she could see the truth in his eyes; this was no charade. "Oh no."
"What?" Draco asked,
Ginny picked up the two pieces of wood lying on the floor next to him. "Your wand."
Draco's jaw dropped. "My wand?" he choked.
She nodded sadly.
He tried to sit up, then cried out in pain and dropped down to the floor again.
"What is it?" Ginny asked.
"My wrist," he choked.
Ginny gasped when she saw Draco's wrist. It was bent at an unnatural angle, and the skin around it was red and blotchy. "It's broken," she said. "Oh, Hermione is going to kill me…"
"It wasn't your fault," he said.
She was a little surprised that he didn't have some curt reply, but didn't point that out. "Someone take him down to Madam Pomfrey," she said.
By this time, the entire cast was assembled out onstage. "I will," Dean Thomas said, stepping forward. "I don't have a part in the second act."
"Thanks, Dean," Ginny said. She stood up, then extended her hand to Draco. "Here. Let me help you."
Draco stared at her for a few seconds, then sighed and grabbed her hand with his good one.
She pulled him up, and then held out the pieces of his wand apologetically. He took them, mumbled "Thanks," and stuffed them into his pocket. Then, holding his arm with his good hand, walked with Dean out of the Great Hall. Ginny looked ready to cry as they left. She sighed, then looked at the rest of the cast. "I guess we should keep going."
"You all right, Gin?" Padma Patil asked.
Ginny nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just scared."
"Why?" asked Harry.
"Think about it. Malfoy just broke his wand and his wrist while I was supposed to be in charge," Ginny replied. "Hermione is going to have. My. HEAD."
"I'm sure she'll understand," said Hannah Abbott. "It was an accident. It could have happened even if Hermione was here."
Ginny knew Hannah was right, but she couldn't shake the guilt. "I know, but still…"
"Well, um… should we keep going?" Neville asked.
Everyone looked at him.
"I mean, the show must go on, right?" the lead actor said.
"Neville's right," Ginny said with a nod. "We have to keep going. Places for Act Two, everyone. Justin, can you run backstage, grab the master script, and stand in as the ghost of Banquo?"
"Sure!" Justin Finch-Fletchley said, and dashed backstage.
"Okay," Ginny said. She sighed. "And away we go."
Draco and Dean returned just as Parvati was beginning her Hecate speech. Ginny, who had been waiting anxiously, dashed over to them as soon as they came in. "Thanks, Dean," she whispered so as not to interrupt Parvati. "Draco, I am so, so, so sorry."
"For what?" Draco whispered back. "It wasn't your fault."
"I know, but I was supposed to be in charge, and now I feel irresponsible for letting something like this happen," Ginny said.
"How many times do I have to say that it wasn't your fault?" Draco said. "Accident, Ginny, accident." He raised his hands and bent his wrists back and forth. "See? Good as new."
She stared at him for a few seconds, then said, "You called me Ginny."
He shrugged. "You called me Draco."
Dean mouthed the words "Excuse me," and quietly made his way backstage.
Draco and Ginny continued to play stare-down for a little while longer, then Draco said, "Fine. Let's say, for the sake of argument, that it was your fault. Now you feel horrible and you want to make it up to me, right?"
Ginny didn't see where he was going with this, but she did feel guilty, so she said, "Okay…"
"Here's what you can do," he said. "Hogsmeade visits have been moved to Sundays because so many people are involved with the play. There's one tomorrow. Come with me and let me buy you dinner at The Three Broomsticks."
Ginny had to work to hold back laughter. "Are you asking me out?"
A smile slowly spread across Draco's face. To Ginny's surprise, it wasn't his usual sneer, but an actual, genuine smile. What surprised her even more was that she started smiling, too.
It was just past sunset when Hermione and Snape Apparated to Hogsmeade. Hermione had become quite skilled at the difficult spell over the summer, and although she wasn't powerful enough to go all the way from Hogsmeade to London in one go, they managed to make it in three. She was exhausted when they arrived at their destination, but laughed it off and said, "Well, it beats Floo powder."
Snape smiled. "Yes, it certainly does."
They walked over to a bench outside the train station, and sat down so she could recover. For almost ten minutes, they sat in silence. He had his arm around her, her head was on his shoulder, and their breath made soft white clouds in the cool air of the December evening. Eventually, Hermione broke the silence and said, "You know, it's really cold."
"Yes, it is," he replied, and kissed her on the top of the head. "Think you can make it back to the school?"
She nodded. "Yes, I think I can."
He stood up and offered his arm. She took it, and he helped her stand. Their eyes met, and once again, they were still. Then Hermione smiled and said, "We're never going to get back to the school."
"Well, if you would just stop looking at me long enough for me to collect my wits, we would," Snape responded, and planted a kiss on her temple.
She laughed. "Oh, so now it's my fault?"
"You kissed me first, remember?"
"No, I didn't; I just beat you to it, remember?"
"How could I forget?"
They gazed at each other for a few more minutes, then Snape said, "You're right, we are never going to get back to the school."
Hermione chuckled. "Come on."
They walked halfway to the school arm in arm, but as they drew closer, they realized that it would probably be best to put some distance between them so as not to arouse any suspicion. Their reputations weren't the only ones at stake; Dumbledore, too, was putting himself at risk by allowing this to continue. They wanted neither to expose themselves or betray his trust.
They said good night and parted at the Great Hall. Hermione was still fatigued from Apparating across the country, so her plan was to crawl into bed and sleep, but first, she wanted to find out how the rehearsal went. The first thing she did when she reached the Gryffindor tower was seek out Ginny.
She didn't have to look far. Ginny was sitting cross-legged in an armchair near the fire, reading Macbeth. "Hermione!" she exclaimed when she saw Hermione come in. "How did it go?"
"Fine," Hermione answered, walking over to her. "Our Portkey for the evening of Wednesday, December thirty-first, is completely legal. How was rehearsal? Did anyone give you any problems?"
"Rehearsal was great," Ginny answered. "And wait until you see the fight scene Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin came up with. It's awesome. The guys practiced it for two hours and still wanted to keep going, they liked it so much."
"Great!" Hermione said. "Anything else?"
Ginny blushed and said, "Well, this doesn't really have anything to do with the play, but… Draco Malfoy asked me out."
Hermione gasped. "Really? Gin, that's great! What did you say?"
"Yes, of course," she answered. "I used to hate him, but ever since the play…"
"Yeah, the play seems to be brining out the good side of the Slytherins, huh?" Hermione said without thinking.
A sly grin crossed Ginny's face. "You are totally crushing on Snape, aren't you?"
"Ginny!" Hermione said. "Knock it off!"
Ginny laughed. "I'm just joking," she said. "Get some sleep. You look tired."
"I am tired," Hermione said. "And thanks."
"For what?"
She shrugged. "For everything."