Macbeth: Act Two, Scene One

Disclaimer: JKRowling owns Harry Potter. I was quite tempted to not disclaim Macbeth and see if Shakespeare would actually sue me from beyond the grave, but eventually decided that rather than risk the return of a zombified Shakespeare seeking to eat my brain in vengeance, I'll just say I don't own it.

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A/N: And on to Act 2! In which we get more of that Hermione/Draco interaction we all love, and lots of other fun things I can't tell you about yet. Well you wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, would you?

Anyway, I have nothing much to say (except that I saw my niece again over the weekend and she was, of course, even more adorable.) Oh, yes, and there are Macbeth quotes in this chapter, for those of you who are interested in spotting such things. Onto the story. Enjoy!

'Is Thursday evening okay for you?'

Ginny frowned, twisting a curl of her hair around one finger. 'Depends what time. I'm meant to be meeting Luna and Blaise at eight...'

'Which is pretty much the only time I can manage a practice,' Harry replied, frowning. 'And I can't do Wednesday, I'm practicing that scene in Act Four...' He sighed, folding his arms. 'This play's going to play havoc with Quidditch practices, you realise?'

'You'll just have to schedule them better,' Ginny said thoughtfully from her perch on the arm of an overstuffed chair. 'I don't think I have anything planned for Friday evening...'

'Yes, but half the rest of the team's in this play as well,' Harry replied. 'And I bet someone will have a rehearsal then... we'll say Friday, and I'll tell everyone to try and keep it clear.'

Hermione glanced up from her book as he got to his feet. 'You'd better be quick about it, if you want to go and watch the first rehearsal with us,' she pointed out.

'Or in my case, act in the first rehearsal,' Ginny grinned, swinging her legs. 'I'm not sure whether to be terrified or excited...'

Harry looked torn. 'If I'm too long finding people, go down without me,' he said at length. 'I'll make my own way there. When are you planning on going down?'

'About ten minutes?' Hermione offered after a quick glance at her watch. 'If you're quick, you can make it. If not, I'll save you a seat.'

'Thanks,' Harry said with a grin, before hurrying off in search of the rest of the team.

'He won't manage it,' Ginny said, watching him as he dodged around a maze of armchairs. 'There's too many people to go round, and I know they aren't all in here...'

'Then we'll save him a seat,' Hermione replied. 'Do you think many people are going to come and watch?'

Ginny thought for a moment, eyes looking upwards and forehead slightly creased, before answering. 'Well, it's cast-only, but I think at least half the cast is planning on watching. Because it's the First Rehearsal... it does make me feel a bit nervous.'

'Having people watching you?' Hermione asked, and Ginny nodded. 'Don't be nervous, I'm sure you'll be brilliant. Besides, it's not like you're ever going to be the only one on stage...'

'I guess...' Ginny began doubtfully, but was interrupted by Dean as he threw himself dramatically into the chair she was sitting on the arm of. He grinned.

'Hermione! I've been looking everywhere for you...'

'She's not exactly hiding from you,' Ginny pointed out, and Dean rolled his eyes.

'Anyway, you know how Padma's the Gentlewoman and I'm the Doctor in that sleepwalking scene?' he continued.

Hermione guessed where he was going. 'You want to practice it?'

Dean nodded. 'I've asked Padma and she can do any day but Wednesday this week. I can do any day, but I really don't like doing Fridays, so can we try to avoid that?'

Hermione nodded. 'Any time's good for me. Is Padma going to watch the rehearsal? We could practice straight after that, if you wanted.'

'I think she's coming...' Dean said slowly. 'We'll see when we get there. Tonight sounds good to me.'

'Tonight, then,' Hermione echoed with a nod, 'If Padma can.'

'Hermione?' asked Ginny after a moment's pause, rearranging herself more comfortably on the arm of the chair. 'Do you know how often you're going to have to rehearse with Malfoy?'

'I haven't a clue, but I think it'll be quite often,' she replied. 'We do have a lot of scenes together... though some of them are with other people. You have scenes with him as well, you know. Harry has too.'

Ginny made a face. 'Yeah, but he gets to kill him,' she pointed out. 'I just lead him down the road to murder and madness. Which is fun, yes, but not quite so satisfying as running him through with a big sword.'

Five minutes later, Harry still hadn't returned, so the three of them bade their way slowly down to the Muggle Studies classroom. Ginny became more and more nervous with every step she took.

'I wish it wasn't our rehearsal first,' she moaned as they entered the classroom. Some desks had been pushed together to form a makeshift stage, as they'd done on the night of the auditions. The desks in this classroom, however, were smaller and more rickety; Hermione felt quite worried they'd fall to pieces the instant someone stood on one.

The directors were standing to one side of the 'stage' and chatting to Blaise – except for Adrian, who was lounging on a battered chair, looking bored. Ginny gave Hermione a nervous smile, a 'Wish me luck!' and quickly dashed off to join them.

'Where's Padma?' Dean asked, scanning the small rows of battered chairs that had been set up in front of the stage. 'Can you see her anywhere? I should ask if she's free afterwards...'

'Is that her?' Hermione asked, pointing to someone in the front row. Dean grinned.

'Yep, it is. Hang on a minute – Padma!' he called, hurrying off to ask

She was free, it turned out, and then Luna arrived with her usual dreamy look on her face and the rehearsal began properly. Hermione quickly took a pair of seats on the second row – one for herself, one for Harry – and watched.

'Can I have your attention for a minute?' Megan asked the crowd an hour later as they began getting up from their seats. 'Tomorrow at the same time we're doing Act One, Scene Two, which means we need Duncan, Malcolm, Donalbain, Lennox, the Sergeant and Ross. Are all of those here? No? Could someone tell the others... thank you. The day after it's Scene Three, which means we need the witches again, as well as Macbeth, Banquo, Ross and Angus. Seven o'clock, again. Thanks.

She jumped down from the stage and conversation sprung up: Ginny rushed towards Hermione and Harry, her face glowing.

'You were brilliant,' Harry congratulated her, and she beamed with pride.

'Thanks, I was really nervous but I think it went well, and Blaise actually seems all right, if a little – you know – cold?' Ginny began rambling. 'But I think we'll manage.'

'Well, I thought you were working together well in that rehearsal,' Hermione said. 'Though of course it could be different when it's just the three of you...'

'Let's hope it isn't. Come on, let's get back to the common room, I'm exhausted. I feel as if I could sink into one of those big comfy armchairs and sleep for a week,' Ginny said, already making for the door.

Dean and Padma were hovering nearby, chatting quietly; Hermione gave then a quick smile to let them know she hadn't forgotten the meeting. 'Do you mind if I go?' she asked. 'Dean and Padma are waiting... we're practicing the sleepwalking scene.'

'Oh yeah, I'd forgotten about that,' Harry replied. 'How long do you think you'll be?'

'Probably an hour or so. Go on, they're waiting. See you later,' Hermione replied, and headed over to Dean and Padma.

'Hermione!' Padma greeted her. 'Well done on getting Lady Macbeth, by the way.'

'Thanks,' Hermione replied, 'you did really well, too.'

Padma disagreed. 'It's only one scene,' she pointed out, 'so it's not really that much. But I didn't really expect to get anything, I mean, I've never done any acting before and I'm not very good, so the Gentlewoman...'

'Granger.'

The voice that interrupted Padma was cold, and drawling, and easily recognisable. Hermione turned to see Malfoy standing behind her, one eyebrow raised. 'Or should I say, 'my lady'?'

Hermione gave Dean and Padma an apologetic look. 'Excuse me a minute, would you?' she asked quietly. Dean nodded, and Hermione turned to face Malfoy, already feeling irritated.

'Did you wan something?' she asked, attempting to keep her voice civil but unable to hide a bitter undertone.

'Just to ask when we should meet again, that's all,' he said carelessly.

His speech was so like the first witch's opening line – when shall we three meet again – that Hermione couldn't help continuing the theme. 'In thunder, lightening, or in rain?' she asked.

Malfoy sneered. 'I'm not particularly interested in seeing you 'ere the set of sun, Granger. Twice in one day would be too much.'

Behind her and to her left, she heard Dean mutter something – probably something quite rude about Malfoy – and Padma stifle a giggle. Hermione reminded herself that she had to put up with Malfoy for the foreseeable future, took a breath and carried on.

'I'm busy today, anyway,' she replied. 'Tomorrow, same place, same time?'

He gave her a brief nod. 'Fine,' he said sharply, before walking on past her as though she were nothing, leaving Hermione frowning after him.

'Hermione? Are you ready to go practice?' came Dean's voice. 'Or are you planning to do something incredibly violent and painful to Malfoy, because if you are, don't let me stop you.'

She shook her head. 'Sorry, no violence today,' she replied, giving Dean a smile. 'He's just incredibly annoying... anyway, shall we find somewhere to practice?'

'There's an empty classroom near the Ravenclaw common room that's hardly ever used,' Padma contributed. 'We could use that, if you wanted.'

'Sounds great,' Dean replied. 'Lead the way.'

Acting with Padma and Dean was a little more difficult than Hermione had anticipated – Padma had the habit of drifting into a vague monotone every five minutes, while Dean exaggerated everything when nervousness got the better of him. However, Hermione felt their faults were more than made up for by the fact that the sleepwalking scene was, to put it simply, fun.

It shouldn't be, she reflected, but it had been. Imagining herself sleepwalking through the empty castle with a slender candle, dreaming of murder and blood and guilt. Morbid, yes, but exciting.

They'd agreed to wait until after their first proper rehearsal to meet again before splitting up and going their separate ways. Hermione only wished she had more scenes with them and fewer with Malfoy. But Malfoy was Macbeth, and she was Lady Macbeth, and there was really nothing she could do.

Their next meeting seemed to loom ominously on the horizon all that evening and all through her next day's lessons, until seven o'clock arrived and she was forced to head for the library, feeling both anxious and hopeful.

He was sitting at the table, his copy of Macbeth open in his hand – because of course he'd never use the common, plebeian copy of the play that everyone else had if he could help it – skimming lazily over the lines. He looked up as she approached.

'Granger,' he said with the very slightest nod of his head.

She'd replied, 'Malfoy,' in almost identical tones to his – cool and neutral – and slid into the seat opposite him, before digging through her bag and pulling out her script.

'I assume we should start with our first scene? Act One, Scene Five,' he said, and without waiting for her agreement, continued. 'Ignore your parts with the letter, the messenger and you rambling on about the spirits taking your milk for gall; we should just go from the part where I come in.'

From anyone else it would have sounded like a perfectly reasonable suggestion: after all, Malfoy wasn't involved in those earlier bits, so there was no point practicing them with him. Malfoy's tone gave it another message, implicit: Ignore your parts; after all, you're a worthless Mudblood. Not important. I'm a Malfoy, and a Pureblood: do the parts that concern me.

Hermione took a deep breath and told herself she was being ridiculous, even though she didn't believe she was. After all, it was a sensible suggestion, and she'd look incredibly childish if she argued with it. 'Very well,' she said. 'How shall we do it? Should we start just reading them aloud, and move onto movement afterwards?'

He shrugged. 'Fine,' he said. 'You begin.'

His tone was dismissive, and Hermione glared at him as she realised he was trying to make her feel worthless. She wouldn't let him. She had to show him up, show that she was good enough to be Lady Macbeth...

She cleared her throat, steadied her nerves – not easy with him sitting across from her, one eyebrow raised as if amused – and began. 'Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor!'

'Granger,' he interrupted, before she could say another word, 'do try to make more of an effort.' He smirked. 'My lady.'

She threw him a fierce glare. 'I am making an effort,' she said hotly, 'and I might be able to make a proper effort if you'd actually let me say more than half a line.'

'And I might actually let you say more than a line if you sounded halfway acceptable,' Malfoy drawled. 'You are supposed to be greeting your...' He shuddered delicately, and Hermione had to restrain herself from slapping him. 'Greeting your husband, after hearing that witches have prophesied that he will become king, planning to murder the current king, and calling upon evil spirits to make you completely heartless. In such a situation, I'd expect you to show some kind of passion or excitement.'

'I was showing excitement,' Hermione replied, trying extremely hard to keep calm.

'Not enough,' Malfoy replied with an oddly cold half-smile. 'Try again.'

She did, five times, until he actually let her get on with the rest of her greeting. When it was finally his turn to speak, she was determined to find something wrong with his acting, even if he managed to deliver his single line with an unparalleled perfection.

'My dearest love,' he began, before Hermione interrupted.

'I was under the impression we were performing Macbeth,' she said, 'not Romeo and Juliet.'

Draco glanced up from his book and actually smiled; a cold and rather glassy half-smile. 'Yes, Granger? You have a problem?'

'Simply that you sound far too... romantic,' Hermione said firmly. 'You're meant to be-'

'Greeting my dearest love?' Malfoy asked in a slow drawl. 'I don't see how I'm meant to sound unromantic there... oh, wait. I'm speaking to you. I should be vomiting. My dearest...' He paused, making retching motions.

'Grow up, Malfoy,' Hermione said, feeling her face flush slightly. 'This is meant to be serious.'

'I am being serious,' he protested, giving her a completely innocent look. 'I think I need to go and see Madam Pomfrey before I throw up.'

He smirked once, before picking up his book and continuing to read. 'My dearest love-'

'You sound exactly the same,' Hermione interrupted.

'You never explained why I shouldn't,' Malfoy pointed out. 'I think it's a perfectly sensible tone of voice to use...'

'Well I don't.' Hermione replied, meeting his eyes with a challenging gaze; there was a few seconds pause.

Malfoy glanced back at his book. 'We can ask the directors when they schedule us to do this scene,' he said simply. 'My dearest love, Duncan comes here tonight.'

Surprisingly, the rest of the scene went without much further ado, except that Hermione kept glaring at him over the top of her script and he kept giving her amused, sarcastic glances which were somehow incredibly provoking.. After a few run-throughs, they left that part for the proper rehearsal – which would probably happen later that week – and went on to Act One, Scene Seven. They left out Malfoy's soliloquy at the beginning, at Hermione's suggestion this time, and began from Lady Macbeth's entrance.

'How now! what news?' Malfoy asked.

'He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber?'

'More annoyance, Granger. Anger.' Malfoy drawled, and biting her lip to keep from making a sarcastic comeback, she said the line again. He may be an annoying, sarcastic prat, but his reading of the play showed that he at least wasn't an idiot; he knew what he was talking about.

'Hath he ask'd for me?'

'More interest, Malfoy,' Hermione ordered, an exact mimicry of his earlier sentence. He repeated his line, just had she had.

They carried on like that for a while – speech, short periods of criticising each other, sometimes whole lines without a remark. Hermione had a fairly long part to struggle through with him making corrections. Somehow whether the correction was right or not didn't matter; each made it without protest and carried on. It was a kind of warfare.

Hermione finally came to the end of her long part, and Malfoy spat an irritated 'Prithee, peace' in such an annoyed tone that even Hermione couldn't find fault with it. But the next line didn't come; there was a long pause. Hermione looked up from her script to find Draco staring at his book, a far away look on his face, something sharp and sudden and quite unpleasant.

'Malfoy?' she found herself asking, and he started.

'What?'

'You were staring,' she said, frowning. 'At the script. Is something...?'

He shook his head, allowing himself a little aristocratic laugh. 'My dull brain was wrought with things forgotten,' he explained with an amused look; a rather sharp glint in his eyes.

Hermione gave him a suspicious glance, but didn't say anything, and he carried on after a pause. 'I dare do all that may become a man; who dares do more is none.'

They continued for the rest of the scene as before: viciously correcting each other, throwing smirks and glares across the table. They did make progress, actually: Hermione was aware that Malfoy's suggestions were often useful, interesting at least: but the cruel manner in which he made them was uncalled for.

But as they were nearing the end of the scene, it happened again; midway through a line. 'When we have mark'd with blood-' Malfoy said, and stopped, staring at the book as before, his face pale.

'Malfoy?' Hermione called again, somewhere between annoyance and worry. Mainly annoyance. 'Malfoy!'

He jumped. 'What!'

'You were staring at the script. Again,' Hermione said firmly. 'What's wrong with you?'

'Nothing,' Malfoy said, waving a hand through the air as though to brush it all away. 'When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two-'

'Something, obviously,' Hermione interrupted. 'And if it's affecting your acting, I think I have a right to know.'

Malfoy sighed, managing to give even that simple sound an air of annoyance, and said, 'To put it simply, Granger, I'm tired. I didn't sleep well last night. Now can we get on with the acting?'

She gave him a suspicious look. 'Alright. Go on,' she said. 'And get some proper sleep next time, for goodness' sake.'

A/N: And that's all for this week. Come back next Monday for more Macbeth fun! And of course, sometime in the period between now and then, you're going to review. Yes, you ARE going to review. Do you need me to hypnotise you into doing it? Fine. Watch the watch... you're getting sleepy... you're asleep. Now, when I clap my hands you will wake up and review this chapter. You will remember nothing of what I have said do you. Now... CLAP!