Author's note: I was on a long hiatus from writing on . Real life got in the way. I will try my best to update this story as much as I can.
Chapter 8
As funny as it might sound to readers, keeping up with classes and assignments of college was the last thing plaguing Hermione's mind. Surprisingly enough, the task of emulating the fictional character of Juliet kept her preoccupied. She believed in achieving perfection. She would pour all her heart in mastering the role of Juliet.
The next day at 2:30pm Hermione found herself waiting for Draco on the podium of the auditorium. The entire ambience of the big hall was bathed in a very soothing yellow with a tinge of orange. Miss Rachael stood just beside her; holding her chin high with her very aristocratic mannerisms.
Draco strode into the hall; hands tunneled into the pockets of his grey pants. The unruly sliver curls shrouding a portion of his forehead made him look like he had just emerged from a very wild romp beneath the sheets.
He ascended the stairs; culminating in the podium. He was one walking enigma which was truly hard to unravel because his genuine feelings were always concealed behind an impregnable veneer of stoicism and indifference.
When Draco finally stood a couple of paces away from Hermione, Miss Rachael positioned herself behind them.
"Draco and Hermione, I want you to play the famous balcony scene where Romeo can't get enough of Juliet's beauty, " she instructed, clutching both her hands close to her chest.
"Remember that you are not Draco and Hermione now, " she reminded ; leveling them with a very professional glare.
She proceeded to hand them white sheets of paper where their lines were written. Their right hands moved at the same time to receive milky pieces which held the words they would spew forth while being completely oblivious as to where this charade would ultimately take them.
Hermione stood behind a rectangular slab which was designed to be a window according to Miss Rachael's instructions. She rested her hands on it when Draco appeared right before it.
"He jests at scars that never felt a wound
But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east and Juliet is the sun
Arise fair, fair sun and kill the envious moon
Who is already sick and pale with grief
That thou her maid far more fair than she."
With each every line of the exchange, Hermione felt herself getting swept under the intensity of Draco's grey orbs which felt no less than huge tidal waves at the moment. He had really gotten better at delivering the dialogues than the last time when he looked constipated as though he had a long thick stick covering his behind .
As the lines continued, Hermione found herself tapping her fingers at the window.
"Be not her maid, since she is her maid
Her vistal livery is but sick and green."
Draco just went with the flow of spewing forth these passionate lines which threw both him and Hermione in for a loop. He was astounded as to this different side of him which was breaking through gradually.
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