AN: /dances around YAY! Capítulo nuevo! Lo siento (I'm sorry) I'm taking Spanish and I enjoy using it randomly…
Disclaimer: To own or not to own? That is the question. And everyone knows the answer!
Reviews: Danke – Radingsouls4u, Aljinon (Here's something to brighten the muddle of testing!), FlairVerona, Lunatick27/Nique, jaded emerald, Rane2920072 (If Disney would open up that darn vault of theirs, I could get me a copy!), saicho-18 (This story is my escape from my own cliché angst HG/RL. It's fun to write when no one is in apparent peril!), venusrose, lyndaiz (Gracias pero no gracias. Sorry but I've the story set in my mind the way I want & something new would throw me off. Lo siento!), Smiles28,and dubtheeunforgiven.
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Last Chapter: Another part of her conscious shot back. Well…there was just a bit of something in 3rd year. Not that it meant anything. I've been over that since…umm…forever. Right, forever.
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Hermione let out a soft hiss of pain. "Are you trying to pin it to me?"
"Oh," answered Parvati from her left side, not sounding too convincing, "sorry about that."
Sure and she'd been sorry the past twelve other times she had poked Hermione with the sewing pins. This behavior had only started after Professor Trelawney had left Hermione to the mercy of the darker skinned girl. Parvati was more than likely following whatever orders Lavender whispered to her constantly. At the moment, it involved impaling Hermione repeatedly as she stood wrapped in cloth. Who said actors have all the fun?
Behind them, several sewing machines hummed in unison as they drummed out pieces of clothing. The costume department had an entire section of backstage to themselves. It had been dubbed the Hogwart's sweatshop and it contained a crew of mostly girls and a few boys who mistakenly admitted they knew how to sew. Both Parvati and Lavender after falling face first at auditions had joined upon hearing that Professor Trelawney was helping head it.
Parvati finished pinning and went to retrieve a professor to show off her work and get approval. Hermione wondered if it would be useable considering it was probably blood-soaked. Stiffly, she stood rooted in her spot to wait for someone to help get her out of the fabric. From her position, she could see the front part of the stage, the part the audience would see. Remus stood out in a group of extras that were playing the townsfolk at the first. He looked to be trying to get them to all sing in unison.
Absentmindedly, she watched him wave his hand in tune and say the words along with them. She stood hypnotized before beginning to shift from foot to foot. Shouldn't Parvati had returned by now? She better not have left me here to suffer, thought Hermione. Wouldn't put it past her. She turned to look behind her and wondered if she could make her way to someone at the back without ripping out every single pin. The stage was in plain view unlike the costume department and even slightly closer. Maybe if she beckoned somebody would come…
Slowly, she rose an arm and jiggled it. The white fabric of her sleeves flapped dangerously at the seams. Again, she tried, but to no avail. Sucking in a apprehensive breath, she delicately picked up the blue cloth of her dress and shuffled carefully toward the stage. The group came closer into view; they were all turned away from her. Hermione considered yelling to get their attention, but that was quickly shot down. That would only give Parvati and Lavender even more satisfaction. She started padding around for her wand. If she stunned one, that might their attention.
She cursed under her breath, remembering her wand was with her book bag that sat in the far back. Luckily, as she began her strange hobble toward the front again, Remus looked up and gave her a quizzical look. Cautious of the seams, she beckoned him with a hand motion. He held up a hand to the group and she heard him say, "If you'll excuse me for a moment."
As they dispersed, he strode over to her to rigid position. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"I was wondering if you'd help me out of this. I can't get out of it by myself without messing it up and Parvati has left me for dead in it," she answered.
"Of course," he paused, looking the dress over, "but…uh…where do I begin?"
Hermione turned her head to look over he shoulder. "I think if you take out a few from the middle back seam that I could wiggle out, but you're going to need to hold it while I try."
"Alright." He began plucking out the silver pins. "Other than the wardrobe problems, how has the whole play experience been going for you?"
"It's going fine so far, though I must say working with Sergey and Sven is a little intimidating. I understand Beast is supposed to be formidable and all, but they are absolutely huge." She began to tug at the sleeves and maneuver her arms out.
Remus held the top of the dress for support. "I can only imagine, but they were the best out of the group. The poor people doing the sewing are having as hard a time as you are. They have to make clothes to fit them."
Probably have to find some circus tents, she thought. She did not mean it in an unkind way; it was just the truth. Sergey and Sven were twins who obviously took after their Russian dad instead of their Scandinavian mother. Each stood roughly six feet and seven inches tall with exceedingly broad shoulders and limbs like tree trunks. Their constantly serious face framed by black hair never left much room for Hermione to really get to know them.
The blouse part hung around her waist exposing her tank top as she studied the best way to remove herself from the bottom. "I haven't popped any out, yet have I? Sinistra will have my head. She's already stressed to the point dealing with Professor Trelawney." She mumbled out, "Not that I can blame her."
"I don't see any," answered Remus, scanning the floor. "Don't be so hard on Sybil; she's really not that bad once she gets out of her tower. Though I have to admit, she's taken up telling me my future every time I see her. Absolute nightmare when she comes in and tells me about my death in front of the first years. How do you suppose we get the bottom off without taking out the entire waist?"
"Maybe if you came around front and held everything, I might could steady myself enough to get out."
He did as instructed and lightly took hold of the fabric to keep it from moving. She grasped his forearm before sliding down a side a miniscule distance. "Don't worry," she said, feeling a pin poke her leg, "ever since I lost my 'aura' to the great beyond, she's given up on me and my future. Not that I'm complain–" Hermione was cut short from finishing her sentence and from stepping out from the dress by a shrill voice.
"Miss Granger! What are you doing? Of course, I know what you are doing, since my Inner Eye informed me. Don't move a muscle, that dress is probably past repair after what you've done to it." She noticed Remus standing as innocent as he could. "And you! Helping her. Well," she finished in a slightly more mystical tone as she started to settle down.
"If one of your helpers hadn't left me standing with this on I wouldn't have had to do this. We only took out a few pins; they can easily be put back," retorted Hermione.
"Well," repeated Trelawney, her eyes regarding Hermione irritably, "get out of that dress and I'll just have to take it back so one of them can fix it. I am considering taking points away from Gryffindor for such foolish behavior."
"Professor! That's absolutely the most stupid–"
Remus cut in between Hermione's arm-crossed figure now barelegged in her shorts to Trelawney who delicately held the dress out from her. "Now, Sybil, be reasonable. She was left with pins sticking in her and nobody around to help her. I'm sure the dress will be fine. Next time maybe your students ought to remember their jobs and not leave one to stand and suffer."
He had taken hold of Trelawney's arm as he said this and started steering her around toward the drone of machines. She glanced toward Hermione, "This time I will let it slide, but do not think because you are Head Girl you can get away with whatever you want. My Inner Eye will inform me of anymore of your damages to my department." Her bangles rattled as she pointed a finger to her eye.
"Oh please," murmured Hermione to herself, neither of the other two heard her since Trelawney had turned her divination skills toward Remus.
She followed behind them into the backstage area, needing to find her bag with her uniform in it. Obviously, Trelawney had completely forgotten about Hermione as she sloppily put the dress on a nearby table. She was instead completely engrossed in trying to tell Remus something.
"Remus, Remus," her voice turned even more misty, "The stars, they have informed me once again concerning you. Venus has moved into your house and is very bright. Do you know what that means?"
He appeared amused by this revelation instead of frightened. "Either it's not very cloudy out or my house needs a new roof."
Trelawney struck a dramatic pose with her hand on a weary face. "No, my child, no! Venus represents love and passion, both of which will soon enter your life. It is written in the stars!"
Hermione could not help but roll her eyes. How cheesy was that line? Remus seemed to think along the same lines as he gave her a raised eyebrow look. He patted Trelawney on the shoulder and said, "I'll be sure to watch out for the ladies, alright? But I really must be getting back to my group. They've more than likely all wondered off by now."
He left them both in the sweatshop and started toward the stage. As he passed Hermione, he said, "Try to stay out of trouble."
"It needs to stop finding me," she answered, "and thanks for helping me out with the costume."
"Anytime." He gave her one last smile and then was gone to round up the prodigal chorus line.
Giggles came from behind Hermione as she watched him go. Very familiar giggles.
"Professor Lupin," mock sighed the voice, "thank you so much for helping me get my costume off. It was hot under all that fabric and all."
A fake deepened voice cut in, "Anytime. Perhaps I could help you with the rest of it."
New peals of laughter broke out. Turning, Hermione gave her infamous stare to both girls, each of their eyes were bright with laughter. Lavender and Parvati – who would have guessed? How quaint…
Lavender attempted to appear surprised at Hermione looking at them. Nonchalantly, she said, "What is it, Hermione? Come to ruin the rest of the costumes."
Parvati smirked and whispered loud enough for Hermione to hear, "She needs more so Lupin can rip them off of her, too."
Hermione had taken on her superior look, which she often used on infidels or people in general who annoyed her. "How brilliant you both are for figuring that out. Have nothing better to do then watch me get out of dress? One that you," she looked pointedly at Parvati, "left me in."
They smirked. "Trust me, Granger," said Lavender, "it wasn't the dress we were watching." A secretive smile played on her lips, like an all too happy cat with a few dead mice.
"Well," Hermione snapped, "enlighten me as to what exactly you were watching."
"To be exact, that would have been Lupin's fancy handwork."
"Yeah," put in Parvati, "looks like you and the professor were getting pretty cozy out there. Think…if he'd lowered his hands a bit…" She shot Lavender a suggestive raised eyebrow look and a knowing grin.
Hermione gave them a pitying glare. "So that's how it is. Don't get jealous about that, although it's not as if anyone is trying to get their hands on either of you." She cocked her head and smiled triumphantly before brushing past them to get her bag. Lucky for them I didn't have my wand or else they wouldn't be standing so pretty at the moment, she thought, shouldering her book bag.
Walking past the two now huddled together throwing her dirty glances, Hermione could not help but think of what they had said. How silly and completely idiotic. Parvati mentioned something to Lavender that caused the other's face to grin wickedly and her eyes to glow with amusement and an equal amount of mischievousness. She answered lowly, "…that's what she thinks."
Not that the Head Girl noticed, since her head was too busy wrapping itself around a certain professor. Ha, they just wished it had been them getting his help. She headed for the changing rooms off to the left of the stage. They wanted his strong, capable hands on their backs and hips. Her feet paused in mid stride
She did not just think that thought.
You have to admit…it was kind of nice, came a sneaky voice. You haven't seen Ron in awhile; you've both been busy. Mentally, she rolled her eyes. That does not mean, well, anything! I don't melt into a pool of jelly at the first warm set of hands that touch me, no siree, especially not someone who would never think of me like that. Her hand was on the dressing room's doorknob. And why wouldn't he? shot back the sly voice. Hermione was saved from having to launch a completely new argument on her conscious due to a commotion from the front stage that sent her running.
Apparently everyone had come running too since the stage was filled with people. The costumers, painters, builders, effects people, and basically the whole of Hogwarts crowded around something. Hermione deftly used her bag to help get her to the front where a very strange sight was unfolding. McGonagall had broken down into tears and was crying on Lupin's shoulder, blabbering. Yes, the mighty McGonagall was blabbering.
"It's over! All over!" she cried out. "They've gone back to Russia. For their grandmother's funeral, no less. How could they? My play is ruined!" The last statement sent her into another sob.
Awkwardly, Remus patted her shoulder before giving her a handkerchief. "Who left?"
The older witch dabbed her eyes and blew her nose then said more clearly, "Sergey and Sven, our lead and only understudy for Beast."
A collected gasp came from the surrounding group and a flurry of whispers broke out. Remus shook his head disapprovingly at them then shooed them with a stern look. Hermione hung around a little ways away so she could hear. This concerned her.
"Won't they be back in time? Surely they'll return in time to finish out the play."
McGonagall gave him a crazed look. "No, no. Don't you know how long the period for proper Russian mourning is?"
"Well," started Remus puzzled, "can't say that I do but–"
"Too long," she muttered, "that's how long. They won't be back the rest of the year. What are we to do? There isn't a lead. I just knew something bad was going to happen!"
Obviously, Remus was not used to having to handle McGonagall in such a way, but everyone is due for a breakdown when it is well deserved. Soothingly, he said, "There are plenty of actors who can take their place. We'll just have to go back through and find someone. The play isn't ruined."
"No, it's too late," she said. "We're too far into rehearsals to move anybody. We're doomed, absolutely doomed. No lead!" The last part came out slightly hysterical.
Remus answered sternly, "I've done this before and I can assure you we'll find a substitute. Minerva, you have to get a hold on yourself. The show must go on."
From her sidelined position, Hermione noticed something dawning on McGonagall's face. Slowly the Transfiguration teacher said, "Wait…you've done this before…"
Puzzled at this calmer response, Remus nodded. "Yes."
McGonagall grinned up at Remus for the first time, a scheming grin then whispered to herself, "Of course, of course."
"Of course what?" asked Remus, eyebrows raised.
"You."
"Me?" He looked at her pondering. "What about me?" Then it dawned on him. "Oh no, when I said the show must go on, I didn't mean it would go on with me–"
The stern face graced McGonagall's features again. Once again, she was in control and in her element. Briskly, she informed Remus, "You'll take their place." Her gaze became sterner as Remus tried to protest again. "It'll be perfect. Everyone will stay in their positions and nothing will be disrupted. You'll have an easy time catching up since you're done this before after all. That is of course if you agree."
Hermione stood in the shadows completely befuddled at this sudden change of events. Remus shook his head and started to speak before McGonagall fixed him with a look as severe as the one that caused Hermione to crumble.
Enunciating each word clearly, she said, "The show must go on."
"Alright," Remus looked at his shoes in defeat. "I'll do it."
"Good, very good." She clapped her hands excitedly. "Now, you have a script and you know where we are at, so what you really need to do is get with Miss Granger and catch up. Miss Granger!"
The Gryffindor started from her lurking place in the shadows. Hesitantly, she moved to stand next to McGonagall. "Yes, Professor?" she inquired in her best innocent voice.
"I know you've been standing there the whole time, so you can drop the act. Not that I mind, much less explaining to do. I'm sure you've heard everything and know nothing in actuality has changed. Though you'll have to take some time out of your schedule, so you and Professor Lupin can work with the material by yourselves. Surely the two of you can work something out."
"I'm sure we can," reassured Remus. "Don't worry about us. We'll be fine. With her help, I'll be memorizing in no time."
"Be certain that you do," said McGonagall as she bid them farewell. She had business with Snape about the effects and the fact that he had to do them whether he liked it or not.
"So," started Hermione, still clutching her bag and still not in her uniform, "are Tuesdays and Thursdays good for you?"
"That sounds fine. Do you care where we meet? My office has enough space if you'd like to meet there."
She tugged at the strap on her bag. "That sounds good. I can come anytime after eight unless that's bad for you."
"No, no," he answered. "Around eight is perfectly all right. Would you like to start tomorrow or shall we wait for next Tuesday?"
"Tomorrow. I can come tomorrow although I might have to cut it short. I promised Ron I'd try to spend some time with him."
"That's understandable," he said, almost dejectedly, but Hermione's ears must be faulty. "Well, Miss Granger, it is late and my first class will not find me likeable without some sleep so I must say goodnight."
"Goodnight, Professor, and see you tomorrow." She flashed him a grin that lit up her whole face as she turned to leave.
Remus suddenly realized as he started his walk back to his office and to his room that he really did not know what he'd gotten himself into this time. Assistant director? That was straightforward. Being in a room with a dazzling, brilliant, and vivacious young women for an extended period of time…alone? Let's just say, they don't write self-help books on things like that.