Hogwarts' First Musical
Rating: PG
Genre: Romance/Comedy
Pairing: R/Hr, perhaps more later
Disclaimer: All characters and setting belong to J.K. Rowling. We receive no profit from this. Only the OC (Professor Letalis) belongs to us. Moulin Rouge doesn't belong to us either.
A/N: Thanks so much to our 8 reviewers on the last chapter! Really, you have no idea how happy you make us! Here's the second chapter, hope you enjoy it.
Hermione was exhausted. Her first day back, and she had an inch thick stack of notes she had taken in her classes. Professor Letalis' class had taken the most out of her, but she had been thoroughly entranced with DADA and the new Theatre program.
Plus Letalis in herself was fascinating. Hermione knew there was something more to her than she let on, but she had no idea what. Then she remembered-
"Harry," she said while they were walking to the Gryffindor common room, "Why were you looking at Letalis so strangely?"
"What? Harry was making eyes at the Elf?" Ron guffawed. "Harry, you better not let her know--"
Harry blushed till he complemented the shade of Ron's hair and said, "I don't fancy her, Ron. Letalis spoke in here." He tapped his temple gingerly. "She asked me my name. When I told her, she remarked that she knew my mother well. That she had liked my father. Her expression didn't change a lick, but I could feel that it was her." He swallowed thickly. "And then she was gone from my head." He looked down at his feet.
"Oh, Harry. That's amazing. Mind-to-mind contact is very intimate. Only Elves and very brilliant Wizards can perform it, and only do so when they trust someone."
"How can she trust me? She hardly knows who I am."
Ron shrugged. "Maybe she knew your parents well enough that she figured you'd be a swell chap."
Hermione bit her lip in consternation. "I don't know. I just don't."
They finally reached the Fat Lady, told her the password, and went in to find the common room in pandemonium.
"What's going on?" whispered Harry with a fearful look that made Hermione giggle.
"Oh, there you three are. I thought you'd never get around. Lavender and Parvati have all the sixth and seventh years in a riot. It's absolutely nutters in here." Ginny Weasley sighed. "You'd better come and hear this. I don't know whether to laugh or what."
Right in front of the fireplace sat Parvati and Lavender with serene Professor Trelawney-like expressions on their faces.
"What's going on?" asked Ron loudly.
"Well, Mr. Weasley, we are giving advice to the young Gryffindors here." Lavender may have pulled off the teacher act if Parvati hadn't giggled, which started them both up.
"Yeah, they're telling everyone to study lines, dances, and songs all night so they can get a good part. Poor Neville is trying to learn to tango. He almost fell down a complete set of stairs. And then they're telling us to sit really, really close to the stage, so Letalis can see us." Ginny said this with her eyes wide and believing, but her smirk belied her real thoughts.
Hermione snorted, "There's more to a play than the actors. You must have a crew in make-up, costume, set, light, sound, everything. It has to be strictly monitored so the actors mikes are up, their lipstick blotted, their costumes ready for the scene change. A performance is a body of people, not just one or two."
Parvati rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically, "Hermione, I know this whole Muggle theater thing is really romantic with sweat, heavy costumes, and glaring lights, but we have an advantage. Magic." Lavender nodded and looked at Hermione superiorly.
"Who's going to cast the spells?" retorted Hermione. "Surely not Professor Letalis all by herself. That's ridiculous. Hundreds of spells and then what if the magic falters? Technology must back it up. So not only must you have a magically cable crew but a scientific one. That's a lot of parts that that have to be filled, or the show can't go on."
She ended matter-of-factly and rather caustically, but the entire common room broke into applause. Hermione looked in startlement around at the grinning faces. Neville was positively glowing, and Dean was whistling shrilly.
"What'd I do?" she whispered timidly in Harry's ear.
"You gave all of us without the flair of the stage a chance at a hope." He grinned brilliantly at her.
"Yeah, mate, nice going there." Ron patted her nervously on the back.
Hermione liked that everyone felt better now, but Parvati and Lavender looked crestfallen. She hadn't meant to hurt their feelings, only reveal other possibilities in theater. They were quite stuck-up, but they were very nice. She sighed heavily at their long faces.
"But it would be a great deal of fun if we all pulled out some sleeping bags and blankets. We could sleep in the common room tonight and get positively giddy till one o'clock when we all fall into an exhausted heap." This was announced with a surprisingly short amount of breath.
Another cheer and now the faces were happy unanimously.
Just the way Hermione liked it.
...
Everyone murmured in excitement as they walked into the dimly lit theater. They sat down in old velvety seats and watched the red curtains with a heightening amount of anticipation.
As Professor Letalis scanned the pale faces, she saw fear, energy, agitation, and a strange kind of determination. Please let them be good. They need this as much as anyone.
The way they desperately clung onto this distraction from the War, murders, and mystery had decided Letalis' mind. She had thought perhaps it wasn't such a good idea, pressuring them even more.
But the looks she saw, especially a few, made her realize that these were children, and they deserved to be something more than dead war generals and unhonored spies.
She smiled at them and raised the house lights with a flick of her fingers.
"Welcome to the Hogwarts Theatre. At the end of this production, you all will rename it so it holds your memories and good fortune for future performers.
"Everyone will act. Whether it be backstage with costumes, lights, or set design. Or on the stage as the lead role or the smallest choral part. You all will do your part, and you must do it, or the show cannot go on. Without one of you, it will fall apart because each of you is important as the next."
Hermione smirked.
"Now, seventh years will do auditions for the cast first. The sixth years will go back stage to meet a panel of judges who will decide what talents you could bring to the crew. If you do not want a certain part, then please say so.
"Sixth years, you are dismissed. Seventh years, please move to the front."
The squeak of chairs and rustle of bodies was all that could be heard for the next couple of minutes, but it settled down.
"Good luck then, mate."
"Don't be too worried, Neville. You'll do fine."
"Break a leg, Seamus!"
"You get Satine, Pansy, and I'll sure be the Duke!"
It went on till finally the students noticed Letalis standing quiet and immobile on stage. As soon as there was silence, she snapped.
"In your hands," everyone looked down, shocked and surprised to see scripts, "you will find some scene excerpts and songs. Also there are character descriptions. Those of you within the reaches of Muggle culture may already know them, but I'll appreciate it if you can keep absolutely quiet during explanations so everyone hears.
"Good. Now, the leading roles are Christian and Satine. Christian is a handsome young writer who works with a group called the Bohemians. We'll get to them later. Satine is the leading prostitute in a club run by Harold. Harold is her boss. He wants Satine to marry the Duke, which could give him good publicity and Satine a chance at stardom. The Duke is a relatively sneaky bloke who lusts after Satine desperately.
"The Bohemians are a group of theatre artists who are trying to create a show. They include the infamous artist, Henri Toulouse-Lautrec, who is very short in stature but the brilliant Bohemian leader nonetheless. The Doctor has the bad habit of making things explode, so he's in charge of special effects. Satie is the music composer and conductor. Then there is Audrey who was originally to write the play the Bohemians would perform, but when Christian took over, he left.
"The major whores at Harold's club are Nini Legs-in-the-Air, Arabia, China Doll, and Môme Fromage. A few more minor characters remain but those can be discussed with the one who receives the role. There will be many back-up singers and dancers since this is a play within a play.
"Now, we'll start off with group auditions first, singing and dancing. Everyone up. Stretch for a few minutes. If you don't, I won't allow you to go to Madame Pomfrey with a sprained ankle. That's very good.
"Now, repeat after me. Do re me fa so la ti do."
A few murmurs in the crowd rippled quietly into the rafters.
Professor Letalis clucked her tongue. "What a shame. It will be so disappointing if none of the seventh years merit a role in the play. The sixth years will be pleased though."
"Let's try again."
This time, a strong and relatively harmonious scale echoed off the walls. Letalis grinned. "Marvelous. You all have lovely singing voices. I know I'll be pleased as pumpkin juice with the chorus." Tense smiles lighted on many faces.
"Now what we're going to do--"
...
"All right, take a quick break everyone." The seventh years gasped in relief. Every one of them had sung in small groups till voices cracked like pubescent boys and danced until feet dragged like ironclads and arms like chains. Letalis remarked they would make perfect dungeon decorations and that she must tell Professor Snape.
No one was quite sure whether she was kidding or not.
But they had all done considerably well. Professor Letalis was very patient with notes and steps. She made sure everyone got a fair chance. A wave of comfort passed through everyone.
"Now individual and duo auditions will begin. To get everyone's legs and voices a chance to rest, we'll start with acting out scenes. Any volunteers?"
The entire room was silent.
"Huh. That's quite a neat trick. I must share it with the other teachers. They would be thrilled that you all are quiet at moments." The strange thing about Letalis was that she made jokes without even a little emotional inflection.
"Well, then, I'll have to select volunteers. How about our Head Boy and Head Girl? Surely they can set a good example."
Draco Malfoy sauntered to the stage, immaculate and sneering as usual. Hermione, on the other hand, looked quite pale. With the chorus parts and dancing, she had done fine. But acting in front of the entire seventh year wrecked her. She could hardly stand the thought of doing poorly, especially since a lot of the Gryffindors were almost depending on her to do well. Oh, she did not like this one bit. It didn't help that Malfoy was her partner.
He merely raised his eyebrows in vague disgust and took on the look of a tortured martyr. Trust me, Malfoy, I'd rather quarter myself than do this. Especially with you, she thought vehemently.
She inhaled shakily and faced Malfoy with as icy a stare as she could muster. His lips curled, transforming his face into a hellishly attractive demon. Well, the lights and exhaustion were definitely getting to her. Since when had Malfoy been good looking?
Since always. He was rather thin and pale, but aristocrats tended to have dutifully beautiful children. Fine boned, sharp features, and piercing eyes. Perhaps inbreeding had something to do with it.
Hermione snickered helplessly, which made Malfoy glare threateningly. It reminded her vaguely of when Harry had told Malfoy "You wish" at the Dueling Club. The thought comforted her, oddly enough, and she smiled at him.
This caught Malfoy off guard because his mouth fell open slightly.
"Your scene is on page 54. It's one of the many love scenes. This one, however, is central, the most important one. It's when Satine realizes beyond shadow of doubt that she is in love with Christian. So this is a fairly tormented but still passionate scene. No need for laughter, since most of you will be performing the same scene." She looked sharply into the dark theater. "If you cannot perform the most emotional, and therefore most embarrassing, scene with relative dignity, then you cannot perform at all.
"Well then. Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger, please begin at the first line."
"But I am in love with you." Malfoy looked at her somberly and tenderly. "Will you not admit the same?"
Gasps sounded in the darkness. Malfoy was good. What sincerity he lacked in life came to him smoothly on the stage. He looked quite heart-breakingly beautiful with the confused and adoring expression on his face. Hermione felt flustered because of this and the rolls and twists her stomach performed all on its own.
Do not be nervous, Ms. Granger. You will do perfectly fine. Just say the lines. Imagine someone you truly love is saying these blessed words to you, and for all the world you want to say yes but fear it more than you have ever feared anything in your life. Just make this reality. Make it your life.
Hermione would have screamed if Harry had not told her about DADA class. She knew Letalis was speaking to her, although she only looked calmly at the two on stage, her face utterly blank. Her acting skills far surpassed any Hermione could possibly contain. But she would try.
With a long, shaky breath, she timidly entered the scene of despair and love. After the first few lines, she felt it. Draco became taller, tanner, and redheaded. Freckles danced on his nose, and his smile rivaled the too bright lights. She was Satine. Draco was Ron. Ron was Christian. She felt it all in the depths of her bones.
In tortured denial, she cast aside Christian's declaration, claiming apathy and amused distaste. She kept her distance, praying the he would go away and hoping he would stay forever. Christian pursued her with his words, chasing down her doubts. It became blindingly, irreversibly clear what her path must be.
She turned to Christian, his warm eyes dancing, and they kissed.
At first Satine felt nothing but bliss, but it became wrong. Horribly, twistedly wrong. She pulled back in shock, finding Christian's face had morphed into the Duke's. He leered at her in dirty appreciation.
Satine's hand flew to her chest, and she backed away quickly as the world faded. Draco's pale face, Ron's shouting, a general roar from offstage, and Letalis' cool hands brought reality back so quickly, Hermione could hardly breath.
"Took your breath away, didn't I, Granger? You're not too bad yourself," 'For a Mudblood' was left off for the first time Hermione could remember. She would have felt touched and amused if the horror hadn't been so present. Malfoy grinned maliciously and looked in pleasure at Ron's flushed, angry face.
"That was excellent. Wonderful scene, you both have true talent," said Letalis quietly. "Now, seventh years, we will begin with the next duo. Let's see, perhaps Mr. Blaise Zabini and Ms. Hannah Abbot? But before that, let's give a round of applause for our first two auditioners. It takes immense bravery to be first and be mature enough performers to do a scene as it should be done."
The room calmed down except for Ron. He sat fuming silently to Harry, who gave Hermione a jolly shrug. He mouthed "Bloody brilliant" to her and winked. She felt overwhelmingly grateful for Harry's sweetness.
Malfoy took her hand in his and pulled her into a bow. She blushed heatedly, but he held her on stage. When she slipped her hand away, he did a number of flourishes that looked distinctly like Professor Snape. The Slytherins roared in laughter, but the other Houses watched with bland and annoyed expressions.
Malfoy was really being quite funny. He wasn't even offending anyone. Perhaps the Slytherins didn't get enough credit, at least where it was due.
As she sat down, Ron refused to look at her. She felt hurt. It wasn't like she had a crush on Malfoy. She was only acting, after all. A kiss on stage was a trick between the actors and the audience, not between the performers.
And the kiss hadn't been with Malfoy anyway...
"What's his problem?" she said to Harry, irritation rising with every moment of Draco's extended bowing.
"Well, you were kissing a Slytherin, Hermione. With quite a bit of passion, I might add. Is there anything you want to tell me?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. I like-" She stopped herself quickly, "I like to think of myself as a good actress. I can kiss anyone with any amount of feeling if it is so required."
"Even if it's one of the best looking boys in school?"
"Or even one of the most plain. I could do it either way," she said firmly.
Harry gave her an odd look. "All right. Whatever you say, Hermione."
They both turned their attention to the spectacle on stage. Letalis was in rare form, smiling almost broadly and pushing Draco playfully off the stage. He took on a look of tremendous offense and pouted impressively.
"But Professor, Satine is dead now, so perhaps-"
"That'll be all, Mr. Malfoy. You may sit down now. Although I'm sure everyone enjoyed your passion and drama, the kiss isn't really necessary for auditions." Hermione blushed slightly. "So it will not be mandatory for the following couples. If you can muster it, that's fine, but I'll have no liplock sessions of any young love phoenixes on this stage. Do that somewhere else, not here. Kissing isn't even done on stage until a week before performance, perhaps not even until opening night." Everyone exchanged surprised looks but didn't not dare contradict or even ask for Letalis' reasons.
And then the next scene began. After that, the next one. The same scene was performed over and over again, until everyone in the room felt they had it memorized. The nervousness that they all felt began slipping away with each progressive audition. Excitement abounded only when the more interesting pairs were on stage.
"Ms. Parkinson! That will be quite enough!" Letalis exclaimed. "Please, step away from Mr. Potter." Harry sat down looking mortified, and quite rightly so. After all, he had been practically mauled by Pansy Parkinson's mouth.
"At least you put up a good fight, mate," Ron commented in between his fits of laughter, "unlike some people," he finished casting an angry glance at Hermione.
"She said the kiss wasn't mandatory!" Harry stammered, "I mean, it was bad enough having to pretend to be in love with Pansy, but really- I wasn't expecting her to try to kiss me!" he moaned.
"All right, let's get back to auditions, please!" Letalis interjected, stopping the murmuring and laughter on the second. "I think our last auditioners will be Mr. Weasley and Ms. Brown." Ron shrugged, happy that he hadn't acted with someone like Millicent Bulstrode. Poor Neville. Lavender rose gracefully, and stepped onto the stage, giving Ron a small reassuring smile through her tittering. "Go ahead," Letalis said, breaking the silence.
"But I am in love with you. Will you not admit the same?" Ron recited the same, monotonous line like every other boy in the room. After countless reciting, no one expected anything different. Yet the emotion in Ron's voice after his first few lines took everyone's breath away. A moment of shock settled over the room, and then every girl in the room stared at Ron in wonder and budding appreciation. Even Draco looked impressed, albeit briefly.
Lavender reacted very well, considering the raw talent her partner was exhibiting. Hermione was holding her breath, watching Ron's every move. Near the end of the scene, she noticed that Ron kept glancing in her direction. Apparently so did everyone else. They turned and watched her curiously.
Is this scene meant for me? She thought hopefully. She sighed inwardly. Overanalyzation always had been a particular gift of hers. After the final line of the scene, she snapped out of her reverie and prepared to clap for Ron and Lavender's incredible performance. But at the last minute, Ron gave one quick look in Hermione's direction before pulling Lavender close to him and kissing her passionately.
What am I doing?! Ron thought, panic-stricken. He remembered being angry with Hermione for kissing Draco, thinking that if she could go off kissing some bloke, especially a Slytherin bloke, he could bloody well kiss Lavender. He slowly pulled himself away from his reading partner, who looked at him dazedly. The room was silent, and many of the Gryffindors turned slowly to look at Hermione for her reaction. She sat in her seat, expressionless, although her thoughts flew about erratically.
Not the brightest idea you've ever had, Mr. Weasley said a very dry voice. Ron nearly jumped at the intrusion on his mind but remembered belatedly what Harry had told him about Professor Letalis.
"Well," Letalis said brightly, breaking the silence, "I believe that's everyone. You may leave. The cast list will be posted in the next few days. Thank you!" Like in a dream, people started to move. Ron realized he was still on the stage, staring at Lavender. He shuddered violently and jumped off the stage. Lavender sluggishly got off the stage, and Parvati ran over to comfort her. Their stunned state brought on a slight upturn of Professor Letalis' lips.
"What happened?" Parvati said, obviously horrified. "I mean, he just kissed you out of nowhere! Does Ron have a crush on you? Oh, Lavender, was it just awful?"
"It wasn't too bad," Lavender said, a sly smile playing on her lips, "Actually, it seems that Ron Weasley boy is really quite the snogger." Parvati gasped before they both dissolved into a fit of giggles, simultaneously swooning over Ron's retreating form.
"I'm glad that's over!" Harry exclaimed. "Those auditions were really something, weren't they?" All three of us were attacked at the lips...
Ron and Hermione mumbled their responses. Neither was talking to the other, and Harry was once again caught in the middle of their argument. Well, I suppose this is better than them yelling at each other, but that thought didn't give him much encouragement. "Well, I for one am excited about this play," he finished lamely as they reached Gryffindor tower.
"Yeah, sure," Ron said, lacking any sort of enthusiasm. "I'm going to bed."
"Me too," Hermione said, quite as detached as Ron. "'Night, Harry."
Harry watched sadly as his two best friends went up opposite staircases. He knew they liked each other. Ron never talked about Hermione in that way, but Harry caught the perplexed looks he gave her. He may not know he did yet, but Harry was confronted with it daily. And Hermione had told Harry. She had revealed that little fact the night they relied too heavily on Butterbeer for comfort. Harry smiled, remembering it with a mixture of humor and sorrow. Through some unspoken agreement, they never brought up that conversation when more was revealed than either of them was comfortable with untoxicated. Harry sighed and sank into an armchair by the fireplace, listening to the excited voices of the Gryffindors, until he fell asleep in the chair, dreaming worriedly of Hermione and Ron.