I know the change in Draco is a little extreme. But there is an explanation. If there was not, I would not even bother writing the story. Believe me. I hate ginormous plotholes that some writers allow to exist in their stories. And little ones don't count, just the ones that make the story bad. Like having Draco dressed in Muggle clothing without giving a good reason, when he's still in the Wizarding world. It makes no sense. Agreed? Yes?
All right, so on with the chapter. You get to find out who got a part, and who didn't ::cough:: Ron ::cough::, and you get to witness some glorious Chemistry between the leading lady (of this story) and the leading man. Forward, march! Hup, two, three, four…
Lost In The Darkness (Jekyll)
The Monday after the auditions were done was the day of the Posting of the Cast List. The professors had spent the weekend choosing the parts, and now, that very morning, Hermione would find out if she failed or succeeded. She could barely keep still.
She checked her clock again. It was half past five. The list would not be posted until seven, at the beginning of breakfast. Hermione sighed impatiently. She threw her covers aside, and touched her bare feet to the chilly floor.
"Something should really be done about the heating system," she murmured in annoyance. "Now, what am I going to do for an hour and a half?"
She had no work to get done, and she didn't think she would be able to concentrate on anything if she tried. Instead, she opted for taking a long, hot shower. There was never anything bad about the shower, and she could lose track of time quite easily. Afterward, she could take her time drying her hair and dressing for the day. Yes, a shower.
Letting the water relax her, she repeatedly sang the songs she knew from Jekyll and Hyde. She could only remember the lyrics to three of them, and two of those required more than one voice. She rendered her own versions of those, altering them each time she began again. She felt her anticipation ease a bit with the time spent under the shower's nozzle, the warming stream refreshing her in body and mind.
At last she emerged, dripping and satisfied. She wrapped herself in the red robe her mother had given her two years ago and twisted a towel around her sopping hair. She plodded damply back to her room.
After dressing as slowly as she could, Hermione glanced at the clock. Her arms dropped to her sides in dismay. It was only six-thirty, leaving a half hour until the list would be posted. With a sigh utterly saturated with frustrated impatience, she headed toward breakfast. She had woken up early numerous times in the past, and found eating before everyone else arrived at the Great Hall a more pleasant start to the morning.
Predictably, only five other students were seated at their House tables. Four of them were Hufflepuffs, talking quietly among themselves. She did not know any of them. The fifth, surprisingly, was a Slytherin she knew all too well.
Though after what he had said to her on Friday, she felt that perhaps she did not know him at all.
"Granger," he said to her, quite naturally, as she sat at the Gryffindor table.
"Malfoy," she replied, reminding herself that there was no reason to be anything but civil. He had said nothing yet but her name.
"Nervous?" he asked. He took a sip of something from a steaming mug. Before answering, Hermione asked the table for her own breakfast. She decided upon a hot cup of mocha, made with slightly more chocolate than coffee, and a couple of pieces of toast.
"Not at all." That was an outright lie. Hermione was about as nervous as she had been during the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, when Harry had faced that dragon. However, there was no reason to let Malfoy know that. She drained about an inch of her drink, then smacked her lips. "You?"
"Of course not," he answered, sounding slightly annoyed. She thought he was probably lying as well, but was not sure. "Is there any reason to be?"
"Well, no," said Hermione.
"Right."
Their conversation hit an enormous, invisible barrier, and they breakfasted in silence. She wondered if she should say something else. It might be appropriate to wish him luck, but there were other students present. She was unsure how he would react.
Apparently, he had the same thought. "Good luck, Granger."
"Er, thanks," she said. "Good luck to you too."
He nodded, then looked over Hermione's shoulder at the Hufflepuffs. She followed his gaze and found that they had stopped talking, and were watching the two of them. "What are you looking at?" Malfoy barked.
They averted their eyes at once, starting up their talk again. Hermione caught a snippet of it. They were discussing their auditions and casting. Without the distraction from their jitters, they all looked miserable. Hermione immediately felt terrible for them, and she turned on Malfoy. "There was no need to be rude."
"I don't like it when people listen in on my conversations," he told her simply. "It is none of their business."
"But you can just ask them nicely," Hermione protested. "You don't have to try to intimidate everyone."
"I don't try, Granger. I just intimidate everyone naturally."
"Not everyone."
"Please don't tell me you're talking about your precious Potter," he scoffed. "Because he almost walks on eggshells around me."
"Malfoy, I think you may want to get your head checked, because you're sounding delusional. Harry doesn't walk on eggshells for anyone. Not even Snape."
"Really? Why doesn't he just hex me when he walks in, then? I can tell he wants to."
"Because it wouldn't be right, Malfoy. I suppose you are unfamiliar with the concept of a conscience," she said.
He looked offended. Hermione's breath caught. His eyes flashed briefly, and his face hardened. She had never seen insult look so compelling. "To be fair, I'd have to say you're right," he growled. He stood and walked out of the Great Hall, leaving Hermione to regret what she had said.
All that had occurred between her and Malfoy flew from her mind when Ron and Harry entered, running toward her at a worrying pace. "What is it?" she asked in alarm.
When she saw their identical ear-to-ear grins, she realized that their news was good. "You did it, Hermione!" Ron yelled, hugging her tightly.
"You made it! We could hardly believe it!" Harry said.
"Well done!" Ron shouted.
"Ron, don't yell in my ear! I want to continue to have use of both of them." Harry and Ron both laughed. "Now that Ron's composure is slightly better, will the two of you please tell me what is going on?"
"They just posted the cast list for Jekyll and Hyde. You-"
Harry got no further. Hermione shot from her seat. "Really? Oh, god! I have to go see it!" Before either of them could tell her what part she had received, she bolted from the Great Hall.
She was more out of breath than a corpse when she reached Gryffindor Tower. She panted the password at the Fat Lady and groped at the furniture for support as she wobbled toward the list. She had to push a few students aside to read it, but most, having already scanned it several times, were heading down to breakfast.
Standing in front of the sheet of parchment, breathing deeply, she read the cast list over and over. She must have noted everyone else's name ten times before she saw her own. Among the people of London were Ginny, Seamus, Lavender, Padma Patil, Pansy Parkinson, Ernie Macmillan, and Anthony Goldstein. "Spider", the pimp, was to be played by Justin Finch-Fletchley. Blaise Zabini had been cast as "Simon Stride", Harry as "Sir Danvers Carew", and Dean Thomas as "John Utterson". "Emma Carew", one of the two lead females, was a fifth year Slytherin named Darcy Bulstrode, a cousin to Millicent. She was well know for her voice, but not for her personality.
Finally, Hermione spotted her own part. She read "Lucy Harris" on the side of the character's name, and where the student's names were listed, "Hermione Granger". She felt herself relax immediately. Everything had paid off; she had gotten the part she coveted. There was one last name she had not checked.
"Oh," she said quietly when she read who would play Dr. Henry Jekyll and Edward Hyde. Clearly printed there was "Draco Malfoy". Hermione could have felt more comfortable with the choice, she was sure.
"I think you have a good chance of being cast as Lucy," Malfoy had said. What had come after rang in her head for a moment.
Of course, you know that if you did, we would have a sex scene together.
She shuddered slightly, but not with revulsion. She was so surprised by what she felt that her consciousness refused to identify it. Had she been willing to accept at the time that her feelings might be changing, she would have realized that her response to Malfoy's statement was one of excitement.
(At this point in the story, there was supposed to be a partition to indicate time passing. The site would not let me have one. I'm disliking it.)
The entire cast gathered in a rather large auditorium, which had never previously been a part of the castle. "Have you ever seen this room before, Harry?" Hermione asked.
"No. Maybe the door was hidden," he suggested.
Hermione was about to respond when she was knocked into Harry by someone walking by. He caught her, and she turned to find Malfoy standing there. Harry narrowed his eyes. "Are you just being inconsiderate, Malfoy, or are you beginning to lose your sight? I always thought all that sneering would cause blindness."
As though in defiance, Malfoy sneered. "Maybe if Granger's hips weren't so wide, I could have gotten by the two of you."
"That's it, Malfoy. This is not-"
"Thank you all for coming. Might weget goingsometime this year?" Professor McGonagall began. She peered down her nose at the small group of heated students, at that moment being joined by Ginny, Seamus, and Dean. "Is there a problem?"
They all shook their heads and took seats in the audience. Malfoy sat across the room from them, giving Hermione a meaningful look. She felt a bout of confusion coming on. She had no idea what he could be thinking. Going over what had just happened, an idea dawned on her. She began to rifle through her schoolbag as McGonagall explained the procedure of rehearsals. Hermione heard speeches about punctuality, responsibility, and appropriateness. At that moment, she found a slip of parchment that she was sure was not hers.
"Cast members may attend any rehearsal, but if any non-cast students wish to sit in, it must be cleared with me in advance. At the most, I will allow five students who are not part of the cast in the room while a rehearsal is in session."
Hermione tried to read what was written on the paper, but there was a spotlight on the stage, where McGonagall was standing, and the house lights were low. The note seemed to have been written with the intent of being hard to see. She could make out a few words, but not enough to understand the message. She stuffed it in her pocket and sat back. Ginny gave her a Look, which she countered with her own.
"We expect that those with the main roles will practice at least the dialogue from their scenes on their own, though we will rehearse frequently. I hope you all know that this is going to take the highest level of dedication. Theatre is difficult, if you are trying to make it good, and musicals are the most difficult brand of theatre. Much hard work is required. If anyone will have a problem with that, then I suggest they leave now and let us recast as soon as possible."
No one left, unsurprisingly. The speeches continued, and though Hermione was listening, she was also thinking. She caught a surreptitious glance from Malfoy. He saw her watching, and ceased. She was more confused than ever. He had stopped harassing her just recently, and suddenly he was slipping her suspicious messages.
It was obvious that something was going on. Something must have happened recently to make Malfoy want something from her. Or, she thought, he might want something from himself. She wished she could read his thoughts to look for some explanation for his behavior.
"At this time, the scripts are being passed to you. In the back of the script, you will find the music. If you would prefer, you can learn the songs on your own before the rehearsals. If not, we will teach them to you during the first rehearsal for that song. Once you have your script, you may leave."
A few people started to stand. "Except you, Mr. Malfoy." He paused. "I would like to go over 'Lost in the Darkness' with you. It is the first song. It should not take more than half an hour." He nodded his blindingly blond head and made for the stage.
Hermione took the script Harry handed to her. He nudged her arm when she did not stand with them. "Are you coming or not, Hermione?" he wondered.
She looked up. She had a flash of simple brilliance, and answered, "Go on ahead, Harry. I need to ask the Professor a few questions. I don't want you to have to wait around. I'll meet you in the common room soon enough."
With a shrug and a nod, Harry joined the Gryffindors on their way up to the tower. "I don't know," he was saying. "She probably just wants to know if it will affect her N.E.W.T.s."
The others laughed. Since they were facing away from her, she allowed herself to wince. Is that what they really think of me?
Sighing, she stood and walked toward the stage. The light was brighter in that area. She heard Malfoy saying, "I know the song. I know them all, actually."
As quickly as she could, Hermione took out the note and scanned it. It read, "We will have to meet outside rehearsals to practice. When we do, come prepared. Never get caught off your guard."
It was a warning; that much was clear. Why Malfoy would want to warn her, or what he was talking about, was beyond her. She looked up at him, asking for answers. He glared at her, another warning.
"Is something wrong, Miss Granger?" Professor McGonagall asked, concernedly scrutinizing her.
"Ah, no," Hermione replied immediately. "No. Er, I was just wondering whether we would be singing to a recording or to an actual orchestra."
"We will have an orchestra. For the first half of rehearsals, however, they will not be able to accompany us, so I'm afraid you will have to sing to a recorded accompaniment. Is there anything else?"
"Oh, no. Thank you, Professor."
"It is no trouble. Oh, and don't forget, Friday is the rehearsal for 'Façade'. The entire cast is expected to attend."
Hermione traipsed back to her seat to gather her belongings. She felt drained, as though the past minute hadstretched overfive years. A soundtrack started up, followed by a voice. At first, she did not realize that it was Malfoy who was singing.
"Lost in the darkness, silence surrounds you. Once there was morning, now, endless night." She left her pack on the floor as she turned slowly to stare in surprise. His voice was - for lack of a less complimentary word - perfect. He gazed directly at her as he sang. "If I could reach you, I'd guide you and teach you to walk from the darkness back into the light."
Shaking her head, Hermione picked up her things and started for the exit. She had never imagined he could even pretend so much emotion. "Deep in your silence, please try to hear me."
For a moment she thought he was talking to her, and turned again. But he was now looking elsewhere.
"I'll keep you near me 'til night passes by. I will find the answer, I'll never desert you. I promise you this," his voice dropped to a stage-whisper kind of singing on the last word.
Hermione wanted to look once more before she left. The door was open, but she faced the stage again. Her eyes met Malfoy's gray ones as he sang, "'Til the day that I die."
The music built to a beautiful climax, and Hermione rushed away. During that moment, she had been touched by something in his eyes. It scared her that she felt a hunger for whatever it had been. Instead of pondering it, she decided to suppress it. That did not workvery well.
However hard she tried, she could not get out of her head the lines he had sung.