Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or Wicked. Duh.

Note: What different styles mean…

BOLD AND CAPS: singing

Bold: speaking

Bold and Underlined: speaker (character(s))

Chapter Four, Act One, Scene Six: Something Bad

Harry sighed. It was finally the evening of the play, an eve he had been dreading for the past week and a half. Dinner was quiet that night, a result of dining alone with his girlfriend. Ron, Hermione, Blaise, and Tracey were giving them both the cold shoulder, a fact that didn't bother them quite as much as it should. But the two were used to being alone, only this time, they were together. It comforted them, and they became more comfortable with each other in consequence, perhaps more comfortable than they should be. But nevertheless, neither of them looked forward to the performance very much.

For days after their little show, they had been bombarded with questions from students, usually on why they didn't try out and how on earth they knew that much about the play in the first place. Refusing to answer questions got them nowhere, and it became so irritating to the both of them that they fled to the Room of Requirement, and were seen only in classes and occasionally at meals. Today, however, they were alone together. Ron, Hermione, Tracey, and Blaise were all at the stage going over some final parts to prepare for the show. The Room was sealed off from other students. But it wouldn't last.

Madeleine and Harry were required to go see the play. The stage was set up in the Quidditch Pitch this time, and as all the teachers and students were going to see it, they weren't allowed to be in the castle alone. At about half past seven, the brown-haired girl and black-haired boy joined the rest of the school at the entrance to the Pitch. When they entered, they both glared in disgust. The ministry had assembled what was supposed to be an opera house, never mind that 'Wicked' originally started on Broadway in the US, and it was full of ministry statues and signs that demoted species of magical creatures.

The two went up high into the theatre, ignoring the reserved signs, and entered Box 7, which was empty and unreserved. Looking down into the crowd, it seemed that there were hundreds of witches and wizards, almost the entire magical population of London seated below. Then, the lights dimmed and the curtain opened, revealing a scene that made them both shudder. Whoever had conjured the sets was obviously colorblind or something along those lines, because that green does not mix with that ghastly orange. So they squinted their eyes and tried to watch.

Several people were out onstage, seemingly conversing in serious tones, but the effect was ruined when they started to chuckle nervously upon seeing the crowd. And, then, the music started and they moved into their positions and burst into erratic song.

GOOD NEWS, SHE'S DEAD!
THE WITCH OF THE WEST IS DEAD!
THE WICKEDEST WITCH THERE EVER WAS,
THE ENEMY OF ALL OF US HERE IN OZ,
IS DEAD! GOOD NEWS! GOOD NEWS!

Ozian: Look, it's Glinda!

Glinda floated on in a giant bubble, obviously magical by the way it glittered. Madeleine shook her head.

Glinda: Fellow Ozians,
LET US BE GLAD,
LET US BE GRATEFUL,
LET US REJOICIFY THAT GOODNESS COULD SUBDUE
THE WICKED WORKINGS OF YOU KNOW WHO!
ISN'T IT NICE TO KNOW
THAT GOOD WILL CONQUER EVIL?
THE TRUTH WE ALL BELIEVE'LL BY AND BY
OUTLIVE A LIE
FOR YOU AND...

Ozian: NO ONE MOURNS THE WICKED!
Ozian: NO ONE CRIES THEY WON'T RETURN!

Ozians: NO ONE LAYS A LILY ON THEIR GRAVE!
Ozian Man: THE GOOD MAN SCORNS THE WICKED!
Women: THROUGH THEIR LIVES OUR CHILDREN LEARN!
Ozians: WHAT WE MISS WHEN WE MISBEHAVE!
Glinda: AND GOODNESS KNOWS
THE WICKEDS' LIVES ARE LONELY
GOODNESS KNOWS
THE WICKED DIE ALONE
IT JUST SHOWS WHEN YOU'RE WICKED
YOU'RE LEFT ONLY
ON YOUR OWN
Ozians: YES, GOODNESS KNOWS
THE WICKEDS' LIVES ARE LONELY
GOODNESS KNOWS
THE WICKED CRY ALONE
NOTHING GROWS FOR THE WICKED
THEY REAP ONLY
WHAT THEY'VE SEWN
Ozian: Glinda, why does wickedness happen?
Glinda: That's a good question; one that many people find confusifying. Are people born wicked, or do they have wickedness thrust upon them? After all, she had a childhood. She had a father, who just happed to be the governor of Munchkinland

Blaise and Tracey entered together, holding hands at one corner of the stage, while the 'Ozians' watched in interest from the opposite side of the stage.

Frex: I'm off to the assembly, dear.
Glinda: She had a mother, as so many do...
Frex: HOW I HATE TO GO AND LEAVE YOU LONELY
Melena: THAT'S ALRIGHT IT'S ONLY JUST ONE NIGHT
Frex: BUT KNOW THAT YOU'RE HERE, IN MY HEART
WHILE I'M OUT OF YOUR SIGHT!

Blaise exited the stage, tossing a smile and a wave at Tracey. Tracey waved back, but smirked as Anthony Goldstein, who played her lover, strode onstage and began to sing in a frog-like voice.

Glinda: And like all families, they had their secrets.
Lover: HAVE ANOTHER DRINK, MY DARK EYED BEAUTY,
I'VE GOT ONE MORE NIGHT LEFT HERE IN TOWN,
SO HAVE ANOTHER DRINK OF GREEN ELIXER
AND WE'LL HAVE OURSELVES A LITTLE MIXER
HAVE ANOTHER LITTLE SWALLOW LITTLE LADY,
AND FOLLOW ME DOWN
Glinda: And of course, from the moment she was born she was...well...different.

Madeleine sighed and rose, Harry right behind her. "That was horrible," she murmured to the emerald-eyed boy behind her. He visibly winced as Pansy's shrill voice pierced the air again. Never in their respective lives had they ever walked out on a performance of 'Wicked', but there was always a first time for everything. As they strode out the front arch, they were surprised to recognize the Astronomy teacher, Professor Aurora Sinistra, standing outside, her face grim. "What are you two doing out here?" her voice was surprised. They glanced at each other, and shrugged. "Couldn't stand to watch anymore."

The Professor offered them a wry grin. "I'm not too much of a fan myself, though I absolutely love the musical itself, this version is atrocious."

The duo grinned at each other. "Did you manage to see the British troupe performing at the Last Stage Theatre?" Harry asked her. Her face fell. "I've seen every troupe except that one," she sounded disappointed. "I've been hoping to see it for weeks."

Madeleine grinned wolfishly. "Here," Harry handed Sinistra a packet of papers. She looked down at them with wide silvery eyes. "This show has been sold out for weeks," she whispered, gazing at the first sheet in the stack. "Right," Harry agreed, nodding his head and interlacing his fingers with Madeleine's. The packet was a list of reserved boxes for the last British troupe show of 'Wicked' at the Last Stage Theatre. A list of names of the students in the school's play, plus Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Sinistra was included in the packet, and a voucher was slipped into an envelope. Confirmations and re-confirmations were also included, leading to a quite hefty pile. The silvery-blonde Professor stared at them, then blinked. She knew their little secret. Grinning wildly, she slipped the packet into a pocket of her robes, nodding at them delightedly. "I'll be delighted to give this to the Headmaster."

They nodded, then headed off to the castle, laughing all the way.

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About two hours later the portrait hole opened, spilling out a crowd of Gryffindor students, all talking excitedly about their school's play and the ministry's opera house.

A loud SLAP resounded through the room, causing everyone to fall silent. All attention turned to the couch by the common room fireplace.

A very angry Hermione and Ron stood over Harry, whose head was turned to the side, a bright red hand print quickly appearing on his cheek.

"HOW DARE YOU WALK OUT ON YOUR BEST FRIENDS' PLAY!" Hermione shrieked, her face thunderous. "How dare you ignore our hard work like it was nothing?"

Harry turned his face so that he was looking in her direction, his emerald eyes glittering fiercely. His glasses lay somewhere on the floor, a result of Hermione's slap on the face.

"You wouldn't understand, and you never will." His voice was glacial, colder than ice. No one had heard him speak in such a coldly angry manner before. No one except Madeleine, and she was far from the Gryffindor common room now.

"Try me," Hermione hissed, like an angry cat. Though her anger was pitiful compared to the cold fury that was evident on Harry's face and the tense hold of his body.

Harry stood, walking right past her and Ron and out towards the portrait hole. "DON'T YOU DARE IGNORE ME HARRY JAMES POTTER!" she howled, furious. "The only thing you will ever understand is your perfect life," Harry replied coldly. "You will never understand that there is a world outside of magic. That world is worth more than you will ever know."

Hermione growled and pounced at him, but like a shadow he faded into the darkness outside the portrait hole. Ron and Hermione couldn't find him for the next hour, until they got caught out after curfew by Snape, who sneered and sent them straight back to Gryffindor Tower, ignoring their frantically furious words.

Harry slept in the Room of Requirement that night, and for many nights in the future. Madeleine joined him after being howled out by Tracey, Daphne, and Pansy.

X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*X*

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Love from,

Avalon