Acknowledgments: Rpeh on the beta work.

Boldness be my Friend

"You're not going to get out of this one, Harry," Hermione said. "He's made sure you don't have Quidditch practice. He checked with all of your professors to make sure that they didn't assign too much homework this weekend. You're going to have to attend."

"I doubt it," Harry said. "I'll come up with something. Even if it's losing the wrong end of a Skiving Snackbox and spending the night in the hospital."

"You'd rather spend an evening vomiting than going to a dinner party with Professor Slughorn?" Hermione asked, aghast.

"Of course not," Harry shot back. "I'd use Nosebleed Nougat."

"Nah, you're nuts man," Dean Thomas interjected from a few chairs across in the common room. "Fever Fudge all the way."

"I suppose that's an option. But I think Slughorn would need me to have visible symptoms to get me out of the gala."

"Good point."

"You two are terrible. It's really not that bad, Harry. Suck it up and I'm sure you'll have fun," Hermione said.

"If it was so much fun, I'm not sure you'd be so desperate for me to go," Harry countered. It earned him a good glare from Hermione.

"I need someone to be a buffer between me and Cormac," Hermione sighed, defeatedly.

"Isn't that what Ginny is for?" Harry asked.

"She's too popular to spend the whole time keeping Cormac from me."

"What?" Dean asked. Harry noticed he perked up in his chair.

"Ginny is the center of attention when she shows up," Hermione said. "Everyone wants to talk to her. She tries to keep Cormac away from me but she can only do it for so long without being rude."

"I see," Dean said. Harry thought he sounded oddly put out about the whole thing but he didn't bother exploring it further.

"Well, she hates it," Harry said.

"You can't know that," Hermione scoffed.

"Sure I can. Who do you think tells me in advance when they're going to be so I can schedule the pitch accordingly? It's not like I have some window into Slughorn's mind and no one on the planet is that lucky."

"I didn't think it was luck. I just assumed that you were keeping yourself so busy to have an out every night. Not that you were planning it."

"What, I'm not clever enough to plan it?" Harry countered.

"That's not what I meant" Hermione sighed.

"And you know that it placates Ron to not have to be reminded that Slughorn has no interest in inviting him," Harry said.

"Oh yes," Hermione responded, icily. "And I'm sure the three of you are just giddy thinking about how much fun I'm having stuck with McLaggen's attempts at flirting."

"You know how much I've talked to Ron lately," Harry snapped. Hermione's jaw shut tight and all the color drained out of her face as he spoke.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice little more than a whisper.

"It's not your fault," Harry said. They both knew it wasn't the truth. When Ron started dating Lavender Brown, Hermione hadn't taken it well. Some hurtful comments from both of them had led them to become quite estranged.

They both knew Harry had chosen Hermione over Ron for selfless reasons. He knew she'd have been alone without him, and that would have made her miserable. Sure, it had led to more studying, more time in the library, and more time generally being inactive, but Harry didn't mind if it kept one of his friends sane.

Although, he had to admit, he half wondered if he should just snog her in the middle of one of her diatribes about classes. It wasn't so much that he wanted to. Although if he was honest, he did think it would probably be fun. Deep down he knew it would annoy the hell out of Ron. And that, coupled with the fact that he expected Hermione would grade him or lecture him about his ability, was one-hundred percent a can of worms he did not want to open.

He pushed that thought from his mind and tried to think of something more to say. But words didn't come. Which made the whole 'kiss her' strategy seem like a better way to pass the time. But Hermione broke the silence.

"I would appreciate it if you would come. It would make things a lot easier on me and I could use a friendly face there," Hermione said. Her words were stiff, like she knew she was asking too much.

"Even if it means that you have to spend the entire time dealing with Slughorn? You know he won't leave me alone if I show up. And if I'm distracting McLaggen from you, then you'll be stuck in the middle," Harry said.

"I'd rather die on that hill than listen to a thousand and one Quidditch saves by Cormac McLaggen," Hermione said.

"I'll think about it," Harry responded, knowing full well he wouldn't think about it and it would take some sort of supernatural confluence of events for him to attend the party. Still, Hermione beamed at him and for a moment he thought that maybe the right thing to do would just be to suck it up.

"Thank you, Harry. Again, it's on Friday night this week," Hermione said. Harry winced at that. He should have known Slughorn would wise up eventually. In their utter annoyance at how many practices Harry was scheduling, the Hufflepuff captain had booked every Friday for the rest of the year.

Harry hadn't cared at first, fully expecting that the other teams would counter his scheduling by reserving the pitch further ahead of time. But nothing Slughorn had done so far had been on a weekend. Harry suspected the Potions Professor didn't even spend his weekends at the castle. But his interest in collecting Harry Potter must have led him to desperate measures.

"What's about Friday?" Neville Longbottom asked.

"Professor Slughorn is having another one of his parties," Harry answered.

"Oh," Neville said. He frowned and looked rather crestfallen. Harry hadn't seen him express any interest in Slughorn's parties.

"I didn't think you were interested," Harry said.

"I'm not," Neville responded. "I just thought someone might have mentioned the Conjurations and Catacombs fliers I put up. I was hoping to get a game going but I can't seem to find anyone that's interested. I reserved a classroom Friday."

"I see," Harry said. He knew very little about the game but suddenly an out rose to the front of his mind. How hard could it be to learn, anyway?

"It will be fun. Just let me know if you're interested," Neville said.

"Will do. It'll all depend on how much homework I get done in the next couple of days," Harry said, knowing full well he had everything done that he needed to get done for Monday.

"I know you like Neville, but there is no way you are actually interested in that," Hermione hissed as Neville walked across the common room. Harry saw him hang a poster for Conjurations and Catacombs on the bulletin board.

"Have you played it before?" Harry asked as his eyes slid to a different poster on the bulletin board. The date and time on it, which flanked a painting of an elaborate fountain, stuck out immediately. It looked like he would have options for Friday evening.

"I'm not going to waste my time with some dice game," Hermione snapped.

"You can't know if it's a waste of time until you try to play it," Harry responded with as much fake cheer as he could muster.

"I've heard him prattle on about it enough. It sounds like utter nonsense. I'm not going to waste my time with it," Hermione said.

"Even if it would get you away from McLaggen?" Harry asked.

"Oh please, he'd decide he wanted to play if he found out I was. The last thing I need is to give McLaggen more excuses to flirt with me," Hermione scoffed.

"Well, Neville would appreciate the added players, I'm sure," Harry said.

"You're impossible. I'm going to the library. Do you want to join me?" Hermione asked.

"You only want to go there so my charming chatter gets Madame Pince to shush me," Harry countered.

"I want to go there because I need a different book for Arithmancy. But yes, that would be a perk of spending the evening in the library," Hermione said.

"I'm hurt," Harry pouted.

"Don't be too lazy without me," Hermione said as she gathered up her bag. "At least try to get the Defense reading done so Snape will be less miserable in class."

"Yes mother," Harry fake groaned. "Although I'm not sure he'd be any less miserable if students did the reading. Somehow I think that would make him even more of a prick."

"You could always get more detentions to get out of Slughorn's parties," Hermione teased as she left the common room. Harry didn't bother justifying that with a comment. Although he didn't think it was that terrible of an idea. It was just a matter of spacing out who he got the detentions with. He ruminated on that for the rest of the evening. Unfortunately, he knew that the dates of detentions were random whims from the Professors. So, in the end, he figured it wasn't a viable strategy.

Harry spent the rest of the week debating the various options he had for getting out of the party. It didn't take him very long to determine his course of action. Although, the more he thought about it, the more he wondered why 'hiding under his invisibility cloak' wasn't the only option he ever used.

Still, he felt a little bad when Hermione reminded him that he should wear something nicer than his school garb for the dinner. The look on her face when he told her he wouldn't be attending was only matched by her annoyance when he wouldn't tell her what he had planned. No matter how much she tried to badger it out of him.

He went down early to the Great Hall for dinner, mostly to get away from Hermione. He caught Ron slipping out of the common room as well. His friend looked sheepish for a moment, as if he wasn't sure what to say.

"Hey Ron," Harry said as they started to walk toward dinner.

"Oh, uhm, hi," Ron responded. But his nerves seemed to ease for a moment. "I needed a break from Lavender."

"How's that going?" Harry asked as he hopped over a trick step and continued down the stairs.

"It's fun," Ron said. "She's crazy physical."

"It appears that way in the common room," Harry responded.

"It's even more not in the common room," Ron said, his face flushing a deep crimson as he spoke.

"I'm sure it is," Harry said, trying his best to not sound dismissive. But he didn't care what Ron and Lavender got up to in their private time. And he'd prefer to not think about it.

"You should get someone," Ron said. "It's great. I'm sure Parvati would give you another chance."

"I'm okay," Harry said, resisting the urge to make an idle comment about asking out Hermione.

"If you insist man. But I'm telling you, it's great."

"I'm sure," Harry said.

"You mind if we eat together? I have some Beater strategies I'd like to bring up. I think they could help out against Hufflepuff."

"I'm not sure Coote and Peaks are up to anything more advanced than we have been trying. But I suppose it's worth a shot we have a few months to see if it works," Harry said as they entered the Great Hall and made their way to the Gryffindor table.

The hall was almost empty which wasn't surprising given that it was just barely into the allotted dinner time. Two second years sat at the far end of the Gryffindor table as Harry and Ron slid into the middle of the table. Ron loaded up a plate with food as Harry took some bread, a chicken breast and a vegetable medley.

He picked at it as Ron started to talk about Quidditch. It was refreshing. He hadn't had much of a chance to just chat about the sport. They bantered back and forth some, mostly about the viability of the strategy when Demelza Robbins, one of their chasers, joined them at the table and joined in. It lasted for about a half hour before Lavender joined them and distracted Ron.

"Are you going to the party?" Demelza asked.

"No," Harry said. "I'm going to the auditions for the play."

"Really?" Demelza looked shocked.

"Yeah. It should be fun," Harry said.

"Huh. You do not strike me as the type," Demelza said.

"Well, I doubt I'll be any good at it. But how often am I going to have the opportunity to even try? I mean this is the first time it's happened in six years. Seems like an experience I should at least attempt it," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"I guess," Demelza said, looking rather skeptical.

"I don't know what I'll even try to audition. But it should still be interesting to watch," Harry said.

"Well have fun with that," Demelza said.

"I will," Harry responded. "It'll be better than Slughorn at any rate."

"You are the only one in the entire school with an aversion to those parties. The rest of us think you're a little crazy."

"Only a little?" Harry teased. Demelza rolled her eyes at him.

"Once you let people get to know you they realize you're harmless," she teased.

"I'm hurt," Harry said.

"Good. Have fun auditioning," Demelza said with a smile as she slid down the bench toward a group of her friends. Harry turned to make a comment to Ron but Lavender was feeding him and he decided he didn't feel like watching that. Instead he rose from the table and turned to wander the castle.

He paced aimlessly around the castle to kill time until he wound up at the Muggle Studies classroom about a half hour before the scheduled time. He wasn't the first student to arrive, but there were only a handful of them there. Professor Burbage was expanding her classroom to create more of an auditorium than a classroom. A few of the early arrivals were working on adding seating into the rows up from the stage so Harry went and joined them.

One of the students was working alone on one half while three others worked on the other half. So he joined the solo without paying that close of attention as he drew his wand and added his magic to the transfiguration spell.

"Thanks," the student said as he stepped up beside her.

"No problem," he said as they started on the next row. They finished it quickly before she turned to face him.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" she asked. Harry turned to look at her as well. She'd opted for a midnight blue dress rather than her robes. Her hair was done up in an elaborate bun and it took far too much self-control from Harry to not pull a strange of it to see the entire thing cascade down.

"I thought it would be fun, Greengrass," he said. He tried to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Daphne narrowed her eyes at him.

"You better not be here to make fun of us," she said.

"I'm being honest," Harry sighed. "I thought it could be fun."

"You're going to audition?" she shot back, aghast.

"I hadn't planned on it. I figured I'd just sit in the back and be quiet. I've never seen an audition. It sounded like an interesting experience. And it gets me out of having to go to one of Slughorn's parties."

"I can't believe he decided to have one of those tonight," Hannah Abbot said, stepping between them to help with the third row of seating.

"Me either," Daphne said. "I hope it doesn't hurt attendance. Professor Burbage would be crushed."

"It doesn't look like it," Hannah said as students started to filter into the room.

"Good," Daphne said.

"What are you doing tonight?" Hannah asked.

"Shakespeare, like everyone else," Daphne said.

"Yes but which play. I got one of Phoebe's from As You Like It," Hannah said.

"Taming of the Shrew," Daphne made a face as she responded. "Kate's."

"They all seem short, don't they?" Hannah responded.

"I guess so. I get the feeling that Professor Burbage didn't want to be here all night," Daphne responded. By that point Harry figured he wasn't about to add anything meaningful to the conversation, so he slunk away toward the top of the auditorium and took a seat in a far back corner.

The room filled rather quickly. It wasn't long before people filled every seat in the makeshift auditorium. Harry heard all sorts of grumbling from various students about how it was such a shame there were so few roles up for grabs in the production. A quick look around the room showed him that girls outnumbered the boys there at least three to one. He hoped, for their sake, that it had more female parts than male parts.

A bubbly Professor Burbage quieted everyone down at the top of the hour and spent a few minutes thanking them for coming and then explaining how everything was going to work. Harry got the strangest feeling that he was the only one in the room that didn't already know that. And that wasn't at least marginally prepared for what was to come. As his eyes scanned the packed crowd and then looked down at the small stage where Professor Burbage continued to speak he couldn't help but be rather glad he had no plans on auditioning.

About a third of the hands in the room shot up when she first asked for volunteers. The Professor beamed and picked five of them to start first. They scampered up onto stage immediately and formed a queue as Professor Burbage sat in a desk in front of the stage. Professor Burbage made them introduce themselves, which garnered a great deal of eye-rolling from most of the crowed. Then she made them explain what they were going to do.

Next they would talk for about a minute or so. Sometimes it felt quicker than that. Sometimes it didn't. Some of the students sped through it in an instant, as if speed was worth bonus points. Some stuttered the words and seemed to fall apart halfway through. Some broke down into giggles after a line or two. And some flat out forgot whatever they were going to say. A few improvised in that situation, but most blushed and left the stage. Sometimes Professor Burbage had them repeat a part with some advice like slowing down, or putting the emphasis on a different part of the speech. But for the most part she let them do their own work in their time on stage.

There was no negativity from the crowd though. At least not that Harry noticed. Each performance was applauded. And Professor Burbage thanked each of them for coming and auditioning before inviting them to watch the rest of it. Some of the students went on their way, but most stayed to watch.

The first standout, in Harry's limited opinion, was Padma Patil. And it wasn't wholly because she auditioned in a nightgown. She performed a familiar monologue of a young girl in love. But while her diction was flawless and her lines were perfect, it rang false.

Harry couldn't have placed exactly what it was. There was just a feeling that she wasn't in love with the boy she was lamenting for. Her actions, her pained wet eyes, her hands ringing through her hair as she spoke helped her cause. But there was something in her tone that just didn't quite do it.

Regardless, she got the biggest applause of anyone who'd auditioned so far. Even Harry clapped rather loudly as she finished. She blushed curtsied on the stage before transfiguring the gown into her school uniform and rushing off to join her friends in the second row.

After the auditions slipped back into what felt like mediocrity. Harry zoned out for a bit. If he was honest, it only took a few seconds to ascertain the quality of most of the auditions. He didn't mean that as a slight as he figured every one of them was better than he'd have been able to muster up.

As he enjoyed thoughts of how terrible he would be a dour looking Hufflepuff took the stage. She had long brown hair and brown eyes and somehow gave off the distinct impression that she'd been crying. Harry recognized her immediately. She'd been the one with Katie on the Hogsmeade trip where she'd been cursed.

Professor Burbage gave her an extra minute or two before she started. The words rolled off of her tongue as she began. It was slow and shaky and tears welled in her eyes as she spoke. She spoke of depression and loss and melancholy but the words didn't seem to matter as she spoke. Harry wanted nothing more than to hold her, to help her, to do anything to make the pain that was obvious in her voice go away. Even if it was just for a fleeting moment.

Unlike Padma, when she finished there was silence in the room. Followed shortly by some sniffling from some of the students. He would have sworn that Professor Burbage's voice cracked as she complimented the performance.

Leanne didn't stay. She rushed out of the room moments after she finished and silence continued to reign. Professor Burbage gave everyone a five-minute break. Harry stayed in the corner of the auditorium, watching some of the participants leave before Professor Burbage brought them all back together.

By that point Harry would have guessed two thirds of the people had auditioned. The first two to go after the break were young, second-years at best. Their auditions went poorly, to say the least. Professor Burbage kept her cheery demeanor through it all.

Next, Daphne took the stage. She fiddled with her dress as she started on a monologue about obedience. Harry found it an odd choice as her quiet voice spoke words that rang false came from her. She was demure, subservient and soft. Harry thought it was all crap.

But then he noticed something so very minor. Her voice was shifting, gradually. She managed to keep the demure look and the soft tone. Every word still felt like she was living for the fictional husband she spoke of, but sarcasm started to bleed through.

It was incredibly subtle. If Harry hadn't been looking for something he wouldn't have noticed it. But as she finished, he sensed a defiance in her tone. She still looked subservient, but her tone did not match her words or her patient smile. If Harry had only been paying attention to her words he would have thought she thrilled with her position. But instead, he knew she would be fighting against her own very words for the rest of her life.

She stepped off the stage looking a bit put out with herself but Harry couldn't understand why. As far as he could tell she'd performed it quite well. She sat back down in a recently vacated front row seat a few spots away from Professor Burbage and focused on her nails. Harry stopped watching her when he realized he was being creepy.

A few minutes later Professor Burbage started to wrap things up. She looked around the room as she picked out the last grouping of students to audition. Her eyes settled on Harry as she spoke.

"And how about Mister Potter as well?" she asked. Harry felt his heart stop in his chest.

"Uhm…I was more interested in watching," Harry said.

"Oh come now. No need to be shy," Professor Burbage said. A few people in the crowd joined in with some encouragement.

"I didn't prepare anything," Harry admitted. "Really I was just fascinated with seeing what an audition was."

"That's fine," Professor Burbage said. "I can let you use a book and come up with something quick."

"I'm sure I'll be awful," Harry said.

"You'll never know until you try," Professor Burbage said. A small booklet floated up to him. He snagged it out of the air as he rose and started the death march toward the stage.

"I'm not going to get a choice here am I?" Harry asked. He was rather aware that every eye in the auditorium was focused on him. And that many of them looked rather jealous of the modicum of extra attention he was getting from Professor Burbage. He ignored the looks by turning his gaze down toward the booklet.

"You made the choice when you showed up," Professor Burbage said. "Now for this scene you are a powerful spirit who is chastising…"

"I've read The Tempest," Harry said.

"Really?" Professor Burbage's brows raised.

"I have a lot of free time over the summers," Harry said with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Well, whenever you are ready then, Mister Potter," Professor Burbage said. Harry took a deep breath and focused on the text before him.

"You are three men of sin, whom Destiny that hath to instrument this lower world and what is in it, the never-surfeited sea hath caused to blech up you; and on this island, where men do not inhabit. You, amongst men are most unfit to live." He spoke slowly. Perhaps too stiffly as he started. But the bard's words flowed through him as spoke and soon his tone changed to a mocking vitriol. Who were these men compared to him? Nothing but common trash meant for nothing. They were nothing. And this was the moment when their actions would catch up to them, when they would meet their comeuppance, when it would all end for them.

Their only chance to escape the fates would be to live a clean life from there on out, but he doubted they'd be able to conform to that. He let the words linger in the air as he finished speaking, punctuating the silence with a long, deep breath.

Professor Burbage stared at him from the desk, her brows raised. He felt the blush rising to his cheeks and made to flee from the stage when the professor spoke.

"Just a moment please, Mister Potter," she said.

"Uh, Okay," Harry responded, freezing on the stage.

"Miss Patil would you mind joining Mister Potter on stage?" Professor Burbage asked as she started to look around the auditorium.

"She left at the break. She had to help her sister with something," Lisa Turpin said from a few rows up. Professor Burbage looked annoyed for a moment before shifting her gaze around the room.

"Miss Greengrass, would you mind?" Professor Burbage asked as she summoned the booklet from Harry and conjured another.

"What? Me?" Daphne blinked in obvious surprise.

"If you would," Professor Burbage said. Daphne stared for a moment before standing and stepping on to the stage as two booklets floated up. Harry grabbed them out of the air and handed one to Daphne. They each spent a moment staring down at the open pages.

"Whenever you're ready, Mister Potter," Professor Burbage said. Harry turned to look at Daphne but she wasn't paying attention to him. Instead she was frowning down at the booklet. Harry could see her mouthing some of the lines. He figured it was best to not interrupt her as he looked down at his own text. After about thirty seconds he figured that it was best to get this over with.

"Lady Beatrice, have you wept all this while?" he asked.

"Yes, and I will weep a while longer," Daphne responded. She turned her gaze to him and Harry was alarmed to find the first signs of tears in her large blue eyes. She blinked a few times as if trying to fight the tears, but all it did was wet her eyes more.

"I will not desire that," he said, trying to hide the alarm in his voice. He wasn't sure he was successful.

"You have no reason to. I do it freely," Daphne said.

"Surely I do not believe your fair cousin is wronged."

"Ah. How much might the man deserve of me that would right her?"

"Is there any way to show such friendship?" Harry asked, letting longing and concern fill his voice as he spoke.

"A very even way. But no such friend," Daphne said, turning her gaze from him and staring off into space.

"May a man do it?"

"It is a man's office. But, not yours."

"I do love nothing in the world so well as you," Harry sighed. He cocked his head to the side and added. He tried to not think about the fact that the first person he confessed love to was a Slytherin that he knew nothing about. But at the very least it helped with his next line. "Is not that strange?"

"As strange as the thing I know not. It were as possible for me to say I loved nothing so well as you," Daphne said, her voice soft and filled with resolve. She turned her gaze back to him as she continued, her tone shifting into uncertainty, as if she'd let the previous words slip out and was not trying to refute them. "But, believe me not, and yet I lie not. I confess nothing nor I deny nothing. I am sorry for my cousin."

"By my sword. Beatrice! You love me?" Harry said.

"Do not swear and eat it," Daphne scoffed. She blushed as if on command and turned her gaze away from him as if embarrassed by her words.

"I will swear by it that you love me and I will make him eat it that says I love not you," Harry replied with as much bravado as he could muster. He thought a man in love should have confidence, so he faked it as best he could.

"Will not you eat your word?" Daphne dared.

"With no sauce that can be devised to it. I protest," Harry paused and lowered his voice and spoke the next three words as firmly as he could. "I love thee."

"God forgive me," Daphne responded.

"What offense, sweet Beatrice?"

"You have stayed me in a happy hour. I was about to protest I loved you."

"And do it with all thy heart," Harry couldn't help but smirk as he said the words. He wasn't even quite sure why. But somehow it felt right. She again faced him and spoke just above a whisper.

"I love you with so much of my heart that none is left to protest." And then she shocked him by throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly to her. Harry froze, his entire body stiffening. But it only lasted a moment as he remembered where he was

"Come," Harry said, his voice naturally lowering to match hers. "Bid me do anything for thee."

"Kill-" Daphne started.

"Excellent," Professor Burbage said, interrupting them. "Thank you both for your effort. Five points to Slytherin for your help, Miss Greengrass."

"Thanks," Daphne mumbled as she hopped off the stage and walked away from Harry. He followed her.

"Alright. Who hasn't gone yet?" Professor Burbage asked. A few students raised their hands and she counted them off. Harry realized he didn't need to be on the stage anymore and hopped off as the other students queued up. He followed Daphne and sat next to her. It wasn't intentional on his part. He simply wanted to be out of the way and the seat next to her was the closest one.

She looked at him questioningly for a moment but he made sure to keep his gaze away from hers. Instead he looked at the stage where a third-year Hufflepuff was starting to stammer through Hamlet. From the corner of his eye he saw her mouth open like she was about to speak. But she thought better of it and turned her attention toward the audition.

Harry did his best to act like he was paying attention. He kept his gaze focused on the stage and made sure he did not let his eyes shift toward the Slytherin girl next to him.

The auditions continued for about ten more minutes before everyone had a chance to impress Professor Burbage. When the last person finished she rose from her chair at her makeshift judge's table and took the stage herself.

"Thank you all for coming. I'll post the results on Monday evening. Please do not be discouraged if you do not get a part and remember those that do are going to have an awful lot of work to do in the next month. There will also be plenty of opportunity for anyone to help out if they so wish. So please keep that in mind and approach me later in the week. I'm sure we'll be able to find a place for anyone," Professor Burbage said. The students didn't really make any coherent noise to respond. Most of them were gathering up whatever they'd brought and preparing to leave.

Harry stood when most of the others did. He moved to queue up to leave the room but paused when he saw that Hannah and Daphne, and a handful of other students had their wands drawn. They were not moving toward the exit like the rest of the students. Professor Burbage approached them and gave some instructions as she gestured around the room. The students that stayed moved to the top of steps and started to disenchant the auditorium. Professor Burbage watched them get started before she drew her own wand and turned her attention to the stage.

Daphne was working alone in the final row. He took the steps two at a time, drawing his wand, and joined her in disenchanting. She gave him a surprised look but otherwise didn't say anything.

It only took them about ten minutes to finish returning everything to normal. He pocketed his wand and started toward the door.

"Thank you," Daphne said from his side. He nodded as Professor Burbage finished ridding the classroom of the stage and awarded three points to each of the students that stayed behind.

Harry ducked out of the classroom with the rest of the students and turned to walk out of the hall and toward Gryffindor tower. He made it ten steps before he heard a voice bellow behind him.

"Mister Potter! I should have known. I should have known!" Professor Slughorn shouted as he ran down the hallway.

"Hello Professor," Harry responded. The other students leaving the classroom all stopped to look. Even Professor Burbage poked her head out of the door.

"I should have known!" the portly man exclaimed once more. Harry figured the easiest way out of the situation was to just take the bait.

"Known what?" Harry asked.

"A budding thespian! You should have told me! I could have had Alana Moonbright or Pius Pringle come to give you private lessons! Although if your acting ability is anything like your potions ability, I doubt you need it. I dare say another profession to add to your already impressive list!"

"I'm sure I wasn't any good," Harry said, looking around for an out from the conversation and resisting the urge to curse as he didn't find one.

"Nonsense! Nonsense! How was he?" Slughorn asked. No one responded and so he turned his attention to the nearest student. "Come now! How did our boy Harry do?"

"He was fine," Daphne said, looking startled by the sudden attention.

"Just fine?" Slughorn looked rather disappointed. "Perhaps I should write to Alana right away!"

"Please don't," Harry said.

"He did quite well," Professor Burbage interrupted.

"Of course he did," Slughorn said. "I should have known better than to schedule a party up against the auditions! One of my lower turnouts of the year!"

"Yes," Professor Burbage responded, icily. "You should have."

"I assure you I did not mean to impose. Purely a scheduling quirk and far too quick of a look at the school calendar. I promise you, Charity, it will not happen again!" Slughorn replied with far more ebullience than Harry thought was necessary.

"Good to hear, Horace," Professor Burbage responded.

"And I have a few suggestions I thought I might be able to add for the performance, if you would be so kind as to hear them," Professor Slughorn said. Harry slipped away from the classroom as the professor was distracted. A few others joined him while the rest remained near the professor, vying for his attention.

"And I'd love to hear them sometime," Professor Burbage said dismissively. Harry left the hallway before he could hear any more replies. He turned toward the staircase leading up to Gryffindor tower when he realized he wasn't alone.

"You're weird," Daphne said.

"So, I've been told," Harry responded.

"He probably could have Alana Moonbright show up. And she's stunning," Daphne said.

"I'm aware. Seamus has a pinup of her up in the dormitory," Harry said.

"I should have known," Daphne scoffed.

"You brought it up," Harry commented.

"Why aren't you taking him up on the offer. Most boys would kill for a few private hours with her," Daphne teased.

"I don't want to feel like I owe him anything. And he rubs me the wrong way," Harry said.

"Weird," Daphne responded.

"I don't see you back there, trying to curry favor," Harry commented.

"No point. There's too many of them and he was too distracted by you. He's not going to notice anything. Anyway, I'm sure Marcus will get me to a party soon enough," Daphne said.

"You actually want to go?" Harry asked.

"Yes. We're not all weird. They seem fun," Daphne responded.

"And you think Belby is going to make that happen? I didn't think he even warranted an invite anymore," Harry countered. He was pretty sure Belby had been directly referenced by Hermione as one of the casualties of the parties. But he wasn't paying that close of attention during the conversation.

"Sure he does. He tells me he does," Daphne said. "It's why he wouldn't accompany me to the auditions."

"My bad then," Harry said. "Still not quite sure what you see in Belby."

"What does that matter?" Daphne asked, her brows arched as she spoke.

"It doesn't," Harry shrugged. "Just feels like you could do better."

"And you have some suggestions?" she responded, tilting her head as she looked at him. It occurred to Harry they'd stopped at the staircase that led to Gryffindor tower, a few feet away from the hallway that led to the dungeons.

"Not really," Harry said. "Just…well…Belby?"

"He's nice and he's smart and he's good to me," Daphne said.

"Okay," Harry responded, raising his hands defensively. She rolled her eyes at him.

"And it's not like you have a girlfriend so I'm not sure I should listen to your advice anyway," Daphne said.

"Fair point," Harry agreed with a smile. She stared at him for a few moments, as if expecting some type of protest from him. But it never came. Instead, she looked toward the staircase leading to the dungeons.

"Well then," she said.

"You know, you were rather good at the audition. I suspect you'll get a part," Harry said.

"I'm not sure how you're one to judge that," Daphne responded. "But thank you."

"You're welcome," Harry said.

"I'm going to go back to my common room now," Daphne said.

"Good night."

"Yeah, you too," she said before she moved toward the staircase. Harry enjoyed the view for a moment before he started up the staircase. He didn't notice when Daphne turned to give him one last confused look over her shoulder.

Author's Note: Thanks again for reading and reviewing. I always appreciate it. If you want to support me I am on PAT RE ON at TE7Writes and I appreciate anything you can send my way. Once again thank you for reading!