The Plays The Thing

The Play’s the Thing (2/?)

***

CHAPTER II

***

“Oh my God, I was simply waiting to hear my name, I completely forgot that Malfoy got the role of Benedick!” Harry exclaimed, recognizing the cause of Hermione’s change in mood.

“Yeah, this suddenly takes out all the excitement of getting the role I wanted,” Hermione said cynically.

“What was Trelawney thinking?” Ron declared, exasperatingly throwing his arms around in the air. “Is she deaf? Is she dumb? Is she blind?!”

“Maybe someone poked out her Inner Eye,” a voice muttered drolly from behind them. They turned to see Malfoy standing there with a strange smile on his face.

“For once, I agree,” Harry said facing Malfoy with a hint of caution. Ron rolled his eyes and then looked Malfoy up and down.

“Ugh, Malfoy,” he said, wrinkling his nose, “I don’t even want to know what you did to get this part.”

“I don’t want to know either,” Malfoy retorted. “I didn’t think I was that bad…”

Surprisingly, Hermione suddenly broke into laughter at this comment. Harry and Ron looked at her strangely, as did Malfoy but there was a glint in his eyes.

“I take it you didn’t want the part of Benedick?” Hermione asked, regaining her composure. Malfoy shrugged.

“Not particularly. I didn’t think he was my type.” For some reason this caused Hermione to start laughing again.

“Though I do seem to be cracking you up,” Malfoy said, rather bemusedly.

“Uh, yeah, well… you shouldn’t be, not until later acts. Anyway, we have to go to Potions – well, you do too because you have that class as well but-” Hermione was babbling which had never happened before that she could recall and she suddenly forced her hands to clamp over her mouth.

“Let’s go,” Ron said, giving a weird look to Malfoy and then Hermione, whom he took by the elbow and pushed towards the Potions Dungeon. Harry gave a confused look in the direction of Malfoy and then followed his two friends. Hermione didn’t unclamp her own mouth until they were walking down the hallway leading to the Potions Dungeon.

“Oh my,” she said lightly as she placed her hand back down at her side.

“What happened to you back there with Malfoy?” Ron asked incredulously. “You were laughing – no – you were giggling!” His face showed absolute horror at the thought that Hermione displayed any sort of pleasure in front of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione took a deep breath and attempted to put on an expression that was not sheepish.

“I don’t know… it’s… been a long morning and… all the excitement about getting the part and then… realizing… Malfoy… I don’t know…” she finished rather lamely.

“Oh, that explains it then,” Ron retorted sarcastically, causing Hermione to stop and glare at him.

“Well, excuuuuse me, Mr. Perfect.” She rolled her eyes at Ron in annoyance. “You know, sometimes when Malfoy’s not being a pure git it pays not to be one back.”

“But… but… the laughing?” Harry stammered almost in mock confusion.

“Er, some of what he said just struck me as funny.”

“Hmmm, well, at least you do get to throw some insults at him!” Ron said, resigned. Hermione just looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Well – you do!” He attempted to back himself up. “In the beginning, and then you really get to him at that party…”

“Oh, Ron,” Hermione muttered in exasperation. “Don’t you get it? Through all the barbs and the war of wits, it’s like Beatrice and Benedick are wooing each other. Halfway through we declare our love and all that. I’ll probably have to – to – kiss Malfoy at the very end!”

“But – But-” Ron looked stunned and horrified, but also like a child trying to hold on a truth he had created for himself. “There are some really good insults and… fights and…”

“Yes, but it’s like – it’s like all those fights are just results of suppressed sexual tension! They may seem outwardly like they’d kill each other, but they are actually perfect for each – and what in the world are you laughing at Harry James Potter?” Her focus quickly zeroed in on Harry who looked like he was biting his lip as hard as he could to keep from laughing.

Ron looked too, still horrified and confused. Harry glanced from Ron back to Hermione and needed to redouble his effort. Suddenly, understanding began to cross Hermione’s face and she began blushing furiously.

“What?-” Ron barely got his question out before Hermione bustled ahead.

“We have to go now, or we’ll be late.” She hurried off forcing the boys to catch up. Ron gave one last suspicious look at Harry, who shrugged his shoulders as if he couldn’t fathom what this was all about, and then followed Hermione into the classroom and took their usual seats.

A disturbingly few seconds later Malfoy swept in through the door followed by the remaining Slytherins. Hermione put her hand up to her face and turned towards Ron, pretending not to see him, but he barely gave their table a glance anyway.

Malfoy and the Slytherins were followed shortly by Professor Snape himself, unchanged from his greasy black hair to his sallow skin and his cold stare which lingered a few seconds longer on Harry than on anyone else. His eyes flicked maliciously as he took in Harry and his lips tightened into a dangerous smile.

“Today, we will be actually testing the antidotes of poisons we have been discussing and preparing…”

There was a collective gasp of apprehension and awe at this statement. This seemed to indicate that one of them would be poisoned…

“Two students will come up here to demonstrate. One, to be poisoned with this,” he held up a vile containing a raven black liquid, “And the other will apply their antidote.”

He surveyed the room perfunctorily and then walked around so that he was behind his desk.

“Mr. Malfoy, please come up here with your antidote.”

Malfoy rose casually from his seat and grasped a small bottle from his desk.

“Mr… Potter, please join Mr. Malfoy up here.” Snape grinned demonically at Harry.

“Tell me it’ll all be over soon,” Harry whispered in a resigned voice to Ron as he slowly rose from his seat.

“It’ll all be over soon…”

Harry made his way slowly down the aisle, joining Malfoy at the front. He was reminded of the last time he was sure Snape was going to poison him for an antidote lesson; it had been just last year… but then he had been ‘saved’ by Colin Creevy collecting him for damned Triwizard Tournament business…

“Why, Mr. Potter, you’re looking a little green,” Snape said with obvious delight.

“Damn right he is,” Ron muttered under his breath to Hermione. “I would be too if that slimy git was poisoning me and all I had to count on was an antidote made by that other git.”

“Shhh,” Hermione whispered, not wanting to attract Snape’s attention. “Anyway, even Snape would never kill a student… and… Malfoy is really good at Potions…”

“I’m fine,” Harry muttered, getting irritable. “Though, I can’t see why you can’t have Malfoy test my antidote,” he added under his breath. Snape, however, heard him. As had Malfoy.

“Oh?” Snape said icily. He began to berate Harry again when Malfoy interrupted him.

“Maybe Potter’s right,” he said, facing Harry with an unreadable expression. “I don’t fear that poison.” His hand motioned towards the dark liquid. Harry furrowed his brow quizzically at Malfoy, as did Snape. Both sides of the class, Slytherin and Gryffindor, now watched in silent anticipation. “Come on, Potter, bring me your antidote,” Malfoy continued. Harry looked nervously back at his bottle sitting atop his desk. Hermione also turned to look at it. She clearly remembered his struggles in making it, and how they were all fairly sure it wouldn’t work at all…

“Er, forget it,” Harry muttered after a pause and accepted the poison from Snape, downing it in one gulp. Hermione covered her mouth to stifle a cry and Ron looked horrified. Quite casually Malfoy uncorked his own vile containing his prepared antidote and measured out the appropriate dose in a small spoon.

Harry felt as though the bottom of his stomach had dropped out and he was spiraling downward. His vision was clouding over and he began to feel very cold when suddenly he felt someone pushing something between his numb lips. It was a spoon, and he swallowed the solution automatically, still feeling all the warmth drain from his lips.

For a moment, somewhere in the remnants of his consciousness, he thought, crap, Malfoy’s antidote isn’t working! He wasn’t feeling any better, and in fact, now his knees were buckling and he felt himself fall. There was no contact with the solid ground, although dimly his ears registered a crash and a scream, but then his mind suddenly seemed to be unclogging. The warmth was flowing back into his veins and his strength was returning. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times to see the classroom come into blurry focus before him. He saw what had caused the scream and crash – Hermione had apparently begun jumping out of her seat, knocking over Harry’s antidote bottle. To his chagrin, he also determined why he hadn’t actually fallen all the way onto the floor. Malfoy had a tight grip on both of his arms, supporting him, and now heaved Harry up into a standing position and let go.

“Gee, Potter, was that too much for you?” Malfoy said with a smirk.

“No, I’m fine thanks,” Harry said tartly rubbing his arms where the pale Slytherin’s grip had been.

“Very good, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape began, ignoring Harry. He motioned for both of them to return to their seats, which Harry did, though he still felt a bit shaky on his feet. He fell down in his chair and was immediately accosted by a worried looking Hermione and Ron. However, they didn’t have a chance to say much because Snape tutted at them and continued explaining how perfect Malfoy’s antidote was, how it worked, and all the finer points of the interaction between the chemicals in the poison and the properties in the antidote.

“That was very, very close,” Ron muttered in Harry’s ear. Luckily, moments later they were released and Harry, Ron and Hermione exited the dungeon as quickly as possible.

***

The rest of their afternoon passed quickly after the Potions lesson. Hermione went off to Arithmancy while Ron and Harry trooped up to Divination with Professor Trelawney. However, she seemed so engulfed in her constant predictions and seeing omens of death and betrayal that she did not mention the play at all. The threesome met at lunch and then went off to Transfiguration. That day their last class was History of Magic and Harry and Ron tried to poke each other to keep from snoring while Hermione scribbled away on her notes furiously. Finally, Professor Binns finished his lecture and Ron, Harry and Hermione hurried out of the stuffy classroom.

“Quidditch?” Ron asked Harry with a grin. Harry checked his watch quickly and smiled back.

“Yeah, we just have time to grab our stuff and go!”

Ron turned and looked at Hermione expectantly, but it took her a while to look up at him, as her nose was buried in her latest set of notes.  

“Hmmm?” She questioned looking up, and then it dawned on her. “Oh, er, I think I’ll skip watching practice today. I’m going to go to the library to get some work done.”

Ron looked a little crestfallen but Harry looked incredulous.

“Studying? Honestly, is there a paper we are suppose to be working on?” Harry asked wryly. Hermione grinned.

“Well, actually, there is that end of term project…” She laughed as Ron began choking. “I was just kidding. Actually, I want to look over some literature about, er, elements in performing Shakespeare…”

“Elements?” Harry asked.

“Um, yeah. Shakespeare’s characters are very nuanced and, um, it’s best to know…” Hermione trailed off, for once in her life rather unsure how to explain something. Ron furrowed his brow in confusion, but suddenly Harry grabbed his forearm.

“Um, well, have fun!” Harry called, pulling Ron with him down the hallway towards their dorm. “We only have a few minutes!” he explained to Ron, whose quizzical look changed to comprehension as Harry let go of him.

“Oh yeah, blimey!” They raced up the stairs, grabbed their things, and raced back down.

However, even as they were running towards the pitch, Ron whirled around and gave Harry a worried look.

“Do you think she’s right – I mean… - I’ve never… and – Shakespeare!”

Harry gave out a laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, Don John isn’t Hamlet,” Harry said drolly.

“Since when are you an expert?” Ron spat back, a little resentfully. For a split second Harry remembered himself locked in the cupboard under the stairs, where he had been crammed in with all the other Dursley’s unwanted “junk”. And there, in the corner, had been tossed an old copy of The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Harry figured it must have been Aunt Petunia’s from school, though the spine wasn’t even cracked. In the dark he had read it, long before he knew he was a wizard, and long before he could grasp all the meanings. But he was familiar enough with Shakespeare to know Ron had nothing to worry about with his particular role.

“Trust me, Don John isn’t that nuanced. You get defeated, you are disgraced, you’re sullenly silent, you get jealous, you get even, you flee, and you get caught.”

“Gee,” Ron muttered resentfully, “Then I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t get a more important role like the Prince or – or Benedick.”

Harry looked over at Ron and shook his head sadly. It’s a shame his friend took everything so personally. But, before the argument could get any further they were surrounded by the rest of the team and practice commenced immediately, wiping out all of the boys thoughts other than Bludgers, Quaffles and the Golden Snitch.

***

Harry and Ron met up with Hermione outside the portrait of the Fat Lady just before dinner.

“Ah! Harry, Ron, good. It’s time to go to the Hall and get the rehearsal schedule from Professor Trelawney before dinner.” The two boys nodded and strode with her casually down the hallway. As they entered the Hall they noticed a group of students already gathered around the staff table, apparently awaiting the appearance of Professor Trelawney. They noticed Fred, George and even Ginny towards the front and gave a small wave. They all were chatting away anxiously for a while before there was a noise from behind one of the doors off the side of the staff table. Their eyes darted there immediately.

Professor Trelawney appeared out of the darkness as if she was gliding above the air and settled in front of the assembled group.

“Ah, ladies and gentlemen, my actresses and actors, welcome.”

Harry and Ron looked at each other and stifled laughs.

“I will be handing out our rehearsal schedule now. As you will see, we shall have two-hour rehearsals immediately after last period – this allows for minimal interference of your evening activities such as Quidditch practice.” Professor Trelawney almost appeared to turn her nose up disdainfully at the notion of Quidditch, but she continued on briskly. “Rehearsals will be three days a week for two weeks, after which we will go to four practices a week plus three to four hour rehearsals on Saturday or Sunday, depending on the Quidditch schedule. We will be performing the play in a little over six weeks, so we have lots to get done. I have seen the planets aligning to favor us, but there are also foreboding signs that we must deal with.” At this her eyes scanned over Harry and stopped for a minute. He stared black, unblinking, and her gaze moved on. Hermione was whispering something to Ron about how lucky they were not having to worry about building sets and fetching props since with magic that could all be done in mere seconds. Ron didn’t seem to have a clue what she was talking about.

“The first rehearsal, as you will note,” Trelawney continued, “is tomorrow. Come now and grab your parts – bring them with you to every rehearsal, but I expect by the second week you should have all your lines memorized. I’ll allow a little more time for the leads, who have greater speaking parts.” With that she stepped aside so the students could collect their parts.

Harry, Ron and Hermione surged forward at the back of the crowd, finally managing to lay their hands on three schedules and packets labeled, “Don Pedro”, “Don John”, and “Beatrice”. Following this they made their way to the Gryffindor table and sat down, eager for dinner.

“Hmmm,” Harry murmured, glancing over the rehearsal schedule. “There’s going to be a few quick change days between Shakespeare and Quidditch.”

Ron glanced down at his schedule. “Yeah, but at least our practice times are still open. I don’t think Trelawney cares for it very much so I’m surprised she allowed for it in the schedule.”

“Well, she’d have to, wouldn’t she?” A new voice entered the conversation. Harry looked up to see Seamus grinning across the table from him. “After all, if push came to shove we’d all go to Quidditch practice. And, gee, all her male leads are on teams.”

Harry and Ron grinned back.

“Hell ya!” Ron said, and Hermione sent him an annoyed look. Seamus laughed and then sent another wink in the direction of Ginny.

“So, Ginny, up to being Hero?”

“Of course,” she said simply.

“Oh, she’s always been a drama queen,” Ron said dismissively, waving his hand at Ginny.

“Have not!” She shouted back indignantly, before lowering her eyes at seeing the surprised expressions of Seamus and Harry.

“See,” Ron said with a simpering smile down at his younger sister.

“You know Ron,” she said suddenly, her eyes lighting up mischievously, “I was thinking about that thing you didn’t want anyone to know – you know, that you-”

“Ginny!” Ron shouted, horrified. Ginny smirked back at her brother.

“Ha! I can be devious too, you just watch it Ronald Weasley!”

“Well, well,” Seamus smiled. “And I was under the impression Hero was a quiet, obedient character.” His smile broadened, making it obvious he was joking. Ginny smiled back at him.

“Yes, that’s why it’s called acting, my dear Seamus.”

Hermione gave a vigorous nod of agreement at this statement. “Thank goodness, after all, Professor Trelawney has set up quite a challenge. Blaise Zambini as a Messenger all loyal and cheery? Justin as the Friar? Neville will have to sing! Fred and George will have to behave! And-”

“- And Malfoy will have to be less of a prick. Fat chance.” Ron interrupted. Hermione turned to him.

“You know, Ron you’re actually right. I have no confidence in Professor Trelawney’s divining abilities and I am a little worried about having Malfoy as our Benedick!” 

“You didn’t seem to mind this morning,” Ron said.

“What? Because I didn’t slap him? Because there were a few words that passed that weren’t actually insults?”

Harry watched his two friends resignedly. Hermione had even agreed with Ron on something and seconds later they were arguing again.

“You giggled, Hermione.” Ron said, almost testily.

“I did not!” She snapped back waspishly.

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“Oh – honestly!” Hermione stood up abruptly and grabbed her schoolbooks, rehearsal schedule and lines. She turned back to Harry. “Later, Harry.” And with that she left the Hall, presumably for the library.

Harry, Seamus and Ginny all exchanged tentative looks from Ron back to each other. Ron looked grimly satisfied, though he took a rather angry swig of his pumpkin juice, banging the glass back down on the table.

Seamus raised his eyebrows at Harry who shook his head sadly, though biting his lip to keep from smiling. Looking from where Hermione had been sitting back to Ron, Seamus seemed to make the connection and tried to hide his own grin. ‘Who knew?’ he seemed to mouth at Harry and Harry rolled his eyes. But he didn’t feel like confronting his other best friend with it.

“Uh, Ron, when we get back upstairs I’d like to run some Quidditch moves by you.”

“Okay,” Ron answered, as if nothing had happened.

“Well, I’m off to practice my lines,” Seamus said, getting up with a wink. “I’ll catch you guys later!”

“Bye, Seamus,” Harry said. Ron nodded. Ginny got up and left too, muttering about Potions homework.

Ron finally turned and looked at Harry, catching his friend’s mouth open in obvious preparation to say something. Immediately, due to Harry’s hesitation, he knew what Harry was going to say. He looked at Harry mercurially and cut in.

“Don’t. Say. Anything.”

***

Harry walked in between Ron and Hermione, separating them as they made their way to the Hall for their first rehearsal. While they weren’t refusing to be together, they seemed to be giving each other the silent treatment. Harry had been forced to sit, stand and walk between them all day, though he had refused to pass messages from one to the other. However, as the school day drew to a close and the rehearsal loomed ahead Hermione seemed to forget her anger at Ron, instead getting excited about the play. Ron, on the other hand, seemed to be getting more apprehensive. Harry was simply curious about how this whole thing would, no pun intended, play out. After all, Professor Trelawney as director was certainly cause for skepticism, and the casting was less than obvious. Nevertheless, Harry had been through much, much worse so he figured this didn’t register in the Grand Scheme of Things. Plus, he had a feeling he already knew his lines better than Ron.

As they entered they noticed, like before, that the Hall had been transformed into a sort of auditorium. This time Trelawney was already hovering around the stage making final touches on the current stage set. It looked like an outside scene and Hermione whispered to Harry that in the background was Leonato’s house, and that this was Messina, Italy. Most of the cast had already gathered in tentative groups in the audience. Harry, Ron and Hermione took their own seats and waited.

It wasn’t long before Professor Trelawney began speaking.

“Welcome, welcome… we have lots to do, and we must begin immediately, because I have had visions of disruptions in our progress…”

Hermione rolled her eyes at this and sighed heavily. Her eyes wandered around the group and they fell upon a lone figure with silvery white hair and Slytherin robes. He sat in the row across from her, a few seats away from his own comrades, and as her eyes fell on him she noticed that his turned to her direction. He regarded her for a moment and then turned back, apparently listening to Trelawney. Something tightened in Hermione’s stomach as she thought of all the time she would have to spend with Malfoy now, with rehearsals. This was certainly heeding her enjoyment of being in the play.

“Today we will begin with the opening scenes, and I plan to proceed in this manner through all of the Acts. However, sometimes I will have certain people break off into groups to work on scenes they have together while another one is going on up on the stage. A few of you have key scenes with the same people over and over, so you can be working on that while we tackle group scenes up here and then when we put them together it will be more productive.” Trelawney glanced down through her huge, jeweled glasses, at her copy of the play, and began to list out a few of these character clusters. “… Benedick and Beatrice, Benedick and Claudio, Benedick, Claudio and Don Pedro…”

Instinctively, Hermione glanced back over at Malfoy, who was looking, not boastful as she had expected, but apparently appalled at having to spend so much time rehearsing with Hermione, Seamus and Harry. Looking over at Malfoy, Hermione missed Ron’s glares in her direction.

Trelawney had continued again. “If I could, I would like Leonato, Hero, Beatrice and the Messenger up on stage. We shall begin with Act One, Scene One.”

Hermione made her way up on the stage closely followed by Fred, Ginny and Blaise. Trelawney placed them and then looked to her script.

“This is the opening. We are outside Leonato’s house in Messina. He is the governor, Hero is his daughter and Beatrice is his niece. They are all gathered here in the summer sun when a Messenger arrives from the Wars. This is a war that is little mentioned in the play, but it is easily deduced that Don Pedro, the Prince of Arragon, has defeated a rebellion by Don John, his bastard brother. The people of Messina have been visited by the men of Don Pedro’s army before, presumably on their way to battle and perhaps on other occasions. There is a history between Hero and Claudio and Beatrice and Benedick. Leonato receives the Messenger eagerly, he tells them that Don Pedro is on his way and will arrive in Messina shortly. It is a happy occasion because the battle is won and with no major casualties. This is where the scene opens… Beatrice is quick to ask the Messenger about Benedick, which quite confuses him as she is throwing light insults about Benedick around and being witty, and the Messenger does not comprehend at first and is wondering why she is insulting this great Lord. The rest will follow, so, Fred, begin.”

Fred, who was Leonato, looked around at the audience and then down at his lines for a second before beginning.

“ ‘I learn in this letter that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina.’ ”

A less than thrilled Blaise stepped up next to Fred, facing Ginny and Hermione.

“ ‘He is very near by this: he was not three leagues off when I left him.’ ”

“ ‘How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?’ ” Fred continued. Blaise glanced down at his lines.

“ ‘But few of any sort, and none of name.’ ”

“ ‘A victory is twice itself when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honor on a young Florentine called Claudio.’ ”

Here, Ginny took the opportunity to act as though she was pleased at the mention of young Claudio. Blaise, still sounding bored and looking rather surly, began to read from his page.

“ ‘Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath indeed better bettered…’ ” He trailed off in his reading, as if he had lost his place and it wasn’t worth the effort, and Trelawney hurried across the stage.

“Uh, okay… good first run. I have seen, in the end, there will be success.” She eyed Blaise nervously. “Okay,” she looked around the students. “I’d like to… go over some things with Blaise and then we can continue. To start with, I’d like more of the Messina crowd in this first act, so Ursula, Margaret, Antonio and Friar, come up here.”  With this Katie, Lavender, George and Justin joined Fred, Blaise, Hermione and Ginny on the stage. “Don Pedro and Claudio – both of you practice your entrance. Don John, Conrade and Borachio can join them. And, I’d like Beatrice and Benedick to get together and practice their first exchange.”

With this the students sprang into action. Blaise was pulled aside by Trelawney, while Ginny, Fred, George, Justin, Katie and Lavender mingled. Seamus and Harry moved to one corner of the room, and close by Ron hovered, eventually joined by Malcolm and Graham. Hermione, on the other hand, froze on the stairs, descending the stage. Malfoy had not moved from his seat, so she would have to join him. It was not a prospect she was looking forward to, but since people were starting to give her weird looks as they went about their own rehearsing, she finally forced her legs to propel her to the seat next to the blond Slytherin.

He looked up at her unblinking. “Go ahead, have a seat.” He flashed a rare smile at her, which only served to unnerve her. Still, she sat down. Her anxiety seemed to amuse him, but he looked around for a minute, taking his glance off of her. His eyes followed Harry and Seamus for a few seconds before speaking again.

“I can’t believe Trelawney gave such a big role to that potato-eating fop,” he muttered. His standard insult served to throw Hermione onto familiar ground and she automatically came to her fellow Gryffindor’s defense.

“Hey! Seamus did a really good job with his ‘All the world’s a stage’ speech,” she retorted indignantly. Malfoy chuckled at this, and continued smirking as he glanced around at his fellow students.

“ ‘The world is a stage, but the play is badly cast,’ ” he commented wryly. 

Hermione’s face lit up with recognition and surprise. “That’s Oscar Wilde!”

“Well spotted Granger,” he mused, giving her an appraising look. She returned the look at him.

“First Shakespeare, now Wilde… I never would have guessed you had such a penchant for Muggle literature, Malfoy.”

Now Malfoy’s face turned into a full-fledge grin. “Ha! Oscar Wilde a Muggle – that’s a good one, Granger.” He continued chuckling appreciatively until he noticed her confused look and his eyebrows rose in understanding. “My, oh my, did the know-it-all Ms. Granger not know Oscar Wilde was a Wizard?” He seemed characteristically delighted to know something she didn’t.

“But… I mean, granted he was eccentric in Victorian society but…” Hermione’s mind was buzzing over everything she’d ever read about Oscar Wilde and Wizards who became famous in the Muggle world… nothing was coming to her. Malfoy turned in his seat to face her properly.

“Sure, his most infamous hiccup was with the sodomy accusation, and his trial and punishment, but he was also at odds with the Ministry of Magic.”

“Why?” Hermione asked incredibly interested. Her thirst for knowledge was over powering the fact that it was coming from Draco Malfoy. Malfoy, for his part, didn’t seem fazed by her interest and answered her immediately.

“Well, to begin with he was a Wizard who preferred to live in the Muggle world. This always creates strife because the Ministry feels not only insulted but also taxed, because usually this means they have to monitor those Wizards more closely and hide the signs of magic.” Malfoy leaned in towards Hermione, though it seemed no one else had taken note of their conversing. It probably just looked like they were going over lines. “Then, of course, he had to go and bring attention to himself by being famous. And being flamboyant.” Hermione nodded at this. “And, if that wasn’t enough to exasperate the Ministry, he caused a panic when he wrote The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

“Why? I love that book and it doesn’t have any… oh…” A thought had occurred to her, and Malfoy nodded.

“Exactly. There is a highly skilled curse, these days considered a Dark Art, which transfers the vices of the soul and negative effects of one’s deeds onto a portrait, or something similar, while the real person stays youthful and beautiful. The Ministry was afraid questions would be raised, since Wilde tended to write about society and people. He was an observer of human nature, not a writer of fantasy and magic. They were horrified that he had divulged this to the general Muggle population.”

“Wow, that makes since,” Hermione mused, digesting all this new information. “And I always thought he would have fit in better if he had lived a hundred years later. It turns out he might have been better off just staying in the Wizarding world.”

“You’ll get no argument from me on that one,” Malfoy responded and Hermione suddenly realized that she was still talking to the Pureblood loving, Muggle hating Malfoy heir. Yet he wasn’t being a prat at all. Feeling brave, she ventured another question. 

“But, why didn’t he go to a MediWizard after he finished his jail sentence? It was his poor health from that two year hard labor sentence that did him in so young.”

“Well, I’ve always wondered why he didn’t just say ‘screw it’ to the Muggle laws and return to the Wizarding community before that, but I guess he was more attached to the Muggle society and-”

Malfoy had to stop abruptly when Professor Trelawney turned around and clapped her hands for everyone’s attention.

“Okay, we’re going to try this again, starting with the exchange between Beatrice and the Messenger and then moving on to the entrance of Don Pedro, Claudio, Benedick and the rest.”

Quickly, everyone on stage took their positions, and Seamus, Harry and now Malfoy, Malcolm, Graham and Ron hovered in the wings to watch and await their own entrance. Hermione had jumped up from her seat next to Malfoy and hurriedly made for the stage, all the while worried that she and Malfoy had never actually gotten around to practicing their first exchange. Not that he seemed to mind.  

Upon reaching the stage she followed the directions of Professor Trelawney for her mark and soon found Blaise standing before her. He looked different, actually handsome. The brooding, surly look was gone, and he looked calm and prepared to speak his part. For a second Hermione had to forget about Oscar Wilde and Malfoy, and deal with the scene at hand. Not for the first time did she thank her lucky stars that aside from reading the play and studying her lines, she had also seen the Muggle film of this play many times before her time at Hogwarts. She knew how to deliver the lines.

“Beatrice,” Professor Trelawney said, addressing Hermione. “Let’s take it from your first line.” Hermione nodded in agreement and began.

“ ‘I pray you,’ ” she began, as if she was calling to Blaise. “ ‘Is Signior Mountanto returned from the wars or no?’ ” Blaise looked properly confused.

“ ‘I know none of that name, lady: there was none such in the army of any sort.’ ”

“ ‘What is he that you ask for niece?’ ” Fred asked as Leonato, taking a step forward.

“ ‘My cousin means Signior Benedick of Padua,’ ” Ginny answered with bemused cheer as the vivacious Hero.

“ ‘O, he’s returned; and as pleasant as he ever was.’ ”

“ ‘He set up his bills here in Messina and challenged Cupid at the flight; and my uncle’s fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt.’ ” Hermione stepped closer to Blaise and cocked her head to the side in mock earnest. “ ‘I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he killed? for, indeed, I promised to eat all of his killing.’ ”

Right on cue those on stage began to laugh. All except for Blaise, whom Hermione thought was much improved after his aside with Professor Trelawney. He looked abashed now, even as Fred moved to say his line first.

“ ‘Faith, niece, you tax Signior Benedick too much; but he’ll be meet with you, I doubt it not.’ ”

“ ‘He hath done good service, lady, in these words,’ ” Blaise said.

“ ‘You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valiant trencher-man; he hath an excellent stomach.’ ” Hermione retorted.

“ ‘And a good soldier too, lady.’ ”

“ ‘And a good soldier to a lady,’ “ Hermione’s eyes twinkled with feigned awe. She advanced Beatrice’s wit back on Blaise’s Messenger. “ ‘But what is he to a lord?’ ”

“ ‘A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honorable virtues.’ ”

“ ‘It is so indeed; he is no less than a stuffed man; but for the stuffing, - well, we are all mortal.’ ”

In the wings Ron snickered at this and whispered to Harry.

“Why does she get all the fun of insulting Malfoy?”

“Ssssh, Ron. And, anyways, remember how the couples end…?” Harry could hear Ron paling behind him and stifled a laugh. “Anyway, I’m interested to see how Malfoy’s going to do. Blaise has certainly caught on to acting polite and decent.”

“Yes, well I’m sure that much moral fiber will be too much for Malfoy to handle,” Ron muttered again before quieting down to hear the rest of the scene. It was Fred who spoke next.

“ ‘You must not, sir, mistake my niece. There is a kind of merry war betwixt Signior Benedick and her; they never meet but there’s a skirmish of wit between them.’ ”

“ ‘Alas! He gets nothing by that…’ ” Hermione continued on, but Harry missed most of the speech. It was getting close to his entrance and he was fretting over his lines. He knew them, he knew he knew them; and even if he didn’t this was just the first rehearsal so he could read them. But he knew that wasn’t what was worrying him at this point, now he was worrying about the acting portion. He had been relieved by the change in Blaise – if a Slytherin could turn into a loyal, noble and happy messenger, than he could act the prince. Of course, Blaise only had one scene. And, as the last of Hermione’s speech echoed in his ear, he realized that was drawing to an end. “ ‘…Who is his companion now? He hath every month a new sworn brother.’ ”

“ ‘Is’t possible?’ ” Blaise said with calculated disbelief. 

“ ‘Very easily possible: he wears his faith but as the fashion of his hat; it ever changes with the next block.’ ”

“ ‘I see, lady, the gentleman is not in your books.’ ”

“ ‘Now; an he were, I would burn my study. But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there now young squarer now that will make a voyage with him to the devil?’ ”

“ ‘He is in the company of the right noble Claudio.’ ”

“ ‘Oh Lord, he will hang upon him like a disease,’ ” Hermione looked properly horrified and grave as she now clutched the hands of Ginny, who giggled appropriately at her ‘cousins’ fear for young Claudio, the man Hero was to have a future with. “ ‘He is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! if he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thousand pound ere a’ be cured.’ ”

“ ‘I will hold friends with you, lady,’ ” Blaise said, a faint smile curling at his lips. Hermione looked at him and smiled, now seeing only the Messenger and not Blaise Zambini, another Slytherin git.

“ ‘Do, good friend.’ ”

“ ‘You will never run mad niece,’ ” said Fred.

“ ‘Not till a hot January,’ ” Hermione laughed and backed away from Blaise who spoke his last line.

“ ‘Don Pedro is approached.’ ”

“Wonderful!” Professor Trelawney moved across the stage with congratulatory looks and smiles. Then she walked over to the wings. “Okay, now the other will enter. They are excited to be returning as honored guests to the lovely town of Messina. Those of you in Messina are thrilled with the excitement of the arrival of the honored guests of Don Pedro and his men. Of course, Don John will also be in this group, but as he has been defeated he will not be nearly in the celebratory mood. Okay? Let’s just try it out and see what happens.” She gave a look to Hermione and Malfoy. “Beatrice, Benedick? You ready?” Hermione barely nodded but Malfoy replied casually.

“Good to go,” he winked at Hermione.

“Okay, take it away Don Pedro,” Trelawney said, with a nod at Harry as she left the stage. Harry looked behind him and saw that ‘his men’ were ready – Neville, playing his servant Balthasar, had also joined them backstage. Taking a deep breath he strode onto the stage and extended his hand to Fred, amid the cheers of the audience and Messinians.

“ ‘Good, Signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble: the fashion of the world is to avoid cost, and you encounter it.’ ”

“ ‘Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your Grace: for trouble being gone, comfort should remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave.’ ”

“ ‘You embrace your charge too willingly,’ ” Harry said, and then looked down at his lines and back up at Fred and Ginny. “ ‘I think this is your daughter.’ ”

Fred suddenly looked at Ginny in horror and then burst out laughing. Somewhere, in the darkness of the audience Professor Trelawney tutted while Fred, and now Harry and Ginny fought fits of laughter.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fred managed to get out between breaths. “I just… you know… she’s my sister and… whoa – that was just too much.” Ginny was blushing furiously and Harry was still working to contain his laughter, but they all took a few deep breaths and Fred seemed ready to continue. He gave Harry a nod to proceed.

“ ‘I think this is your daughter,’ ” Harry repeated as Ginny stepped forward from behind Fred.

“ ‘Her mother hath many times told me so,’ ” responded Fred, a tinge of amusement still obviously vying to get out. And then Malfoy stepped into the center of the stage to remark on this. 

 

“ ‘Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her?’ ” The line rolled off his tongue like liquid mercury; he seemed comfortable in this role of not insulting the two Weasleys that stood before him. Fred seemed to struggle with the fact that this was Malfoy he had to be jovial with, but finally he managed to get his line out.

“ ‘Signior Benedick, no; for then you were a child.’ ”

Harry turned to Malfoy to speak his next line. “ ‘You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers herself. Be happy, lady; for you are like an honorable father.’ ” With this Harry began to move off to the side of the stage with Ginny and Fred while Malfoy appeared to holler after them.

“ ‘If Signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders for all Messina, as like him as she is.’ ”

It was finally time. As Malfoy stood there in the center, Hermione emerged from the side shadows and circled him.

“ ‘I wonder that you will still be talking, Signior Benedick: nobody marks you.’ ”

Malfoy whirled around to face her and raised his voice with feigned and drole surprise.

“ ‘What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?’ ” His voice rose incredulously as he looked at her and Hermione scoffed.

“ ‘Is it possible disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it, as Signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you came in her presence.’ ”

With gestures from the front row, Professor Trelawney managed to communicate to the rest that they should stop walking and turn around, circling the two and listening to this war or wit between their two friends. Harry hadn’t realized how acting in this case would be a moot point – the exchange was indeed witty and charged. Hermione and Malfoy went back and forth so naturally it seemed that, despite them never having rehearsed these lines, they had been born to say them and fling them at each other. It was entrancing to watch and listen to.  

“ ‘Then is courtesy a turncoat,’ ” Malfoy retorted with superior amusement. “ ‘But it is certain I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted: and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for truly, I love none.’ ” He attempted to turn his back to Hermione in victory, but she would not let him.

“ ‘A dear happiness to women,’ ” she declared loudly. “ ‘They would have else been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood, I am of your humor for that: I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than a man swear he loves me.’ ” Those around them chuckled in character and as themselves.

“ ‘God keep your ladyship in that mind! so some gentleman or other shall ‘scape a predestinate scratched face.’ ” There were more laughs, mostly from the men.

“ ‘Scratching could not make it worse, an ‘twere such a face as yours were.’ ” Now there were some howls of laughter from the crowd and Hermione’s Beatrice smiled in mock sweetness at Malfoy’s Benedick. 

“ ‘Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher,’ ” he clucked at her, but she was unfazed.

“ ‘A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours,’ ” she snapped back.

“ ‘I would my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, i’ God’s; I have done.’ ” Malfoy turned away from Hermione and strutted towards the group of Harry and Seamus.

“ ‘You always end with a jade’s trick: I know you of old,’ ” Hermione whispered softly to his retreating back, but abruptly forced herself out of character when she saw the stance of Malfoy. He and Harry seemed to be facing each other down, in the normal dueling fashion. 

“You know, Potter, Finnigan – we are suppose to be friends here. I think you should be smiling at me now instead of whatever that is you are doing.” Malfoys drawl seemed almost more condescending than usual.

“Shove it, Malfoy, I see no reason to pretend to like you when you are being such a prat,” Harry said, taking a step closer to Malfoy.

“Perhaps you missed the acting requirement of this challenge, Potter. Fame can’t get you everything.”

“And your lousy fortune can’t buy you morals, Malfoy.”

Harry, Seamus and Malfoy had all drawn their wands at the same time before Professor Trelawney had made it up to the stage, but Hermione got there first. She stepped in between them and placed her hands on Harry’s shoulders.

“Stop this,” she whispered at him.

Harry looked down at her and then back up at Malfoy. Malfoy’s silver eyes were glaring back at him smugly. Suddenly Professor Trelawney was bustling up at them. Behind her Lavender was clucking something about predictions.

“She predicted setbacks, she did!”

“Oh shut it, Lavender,” Hermione said, backing away from the boys. “It doesn’t take any talent to predict Malfoy and Harry would get into a bloody argument.”

“Alright then, Mr. Potter, Mr., Finnigan… Mr. Malfoy. No need to squabble.” She looked around the group. “After Benedick finishes with Beatrice, he will walk back towards you as Beatrice says her last line, and you two should act like amused companions.” Suddenly she turned her attention on Ron who had been scowling every since Hermione and Malfoy’s exchange had begun. “Great scowl, Mr. Weasley,” she commented, startling him. “Very in character.”

Harry and Seamus shifted uneasily as she turned her attention back to them, reiterating that they had to act like Malfoy’s sworn brothers, but didn’t argue. Even from the back Hermione could tell by Malfoy’s posture that he was still smirking smugly. This was the Malfoy she was used to and had expected and now, as she recalled her own recent experience with him, the contrast struck her.

“Okay, everyone. Let’s take it from Leonato’s welcome to Don John and then we will take a break. Afterwards I want Claudio and Benedick, and then Don Pedro, to work on their next scene. The rest of us will work on the opening scene again with more staging.”

Reluctantly, everyone took his or her previous positions. Fred stepped forward and pretended to turn his attention from Harry to Ron.

“ ‘Let me bid you welcome, my lord: being reconciled to the prince your brother, I owe you all duty.’ ”

It took Ron a moment to step forward and relax his glare at Malfoy, but he eyed his brother evenly.

“ ‘I thank you: I am not of many words, but I thank you.’ ”

When this was said the group quickly dispersed for their much-needed break. Malfoy strutted down the steps and joined his fellow Slytherins, Hermione joined up with Ron and Harry.

“Hermione, you were really good,” Harry said distractedly.

“Right back up at you Harry – up to the part where you drew your wand on Malfoy!”

“He did it too!” Ron cried incredulously.

“All of you are being so immature,” Hermione hissed, trying to lower her voice. “It’s just a play; it’s just acting. Does everything have to be a grudge match?”

“Yes,” Ron said stubbornly but Harry looked slightly abashed.

“I guess we can try harder,” Harry said, conceding a smile.

Hermione smiled at him and then turned her glance on Ron. At first he refused to meet her stare and kept his frown determinedly on his face.

“Oh come on, Ron. This is supposed to be fun. Anyway, you have it easy because as Don John you are suppose to be smiling through gritted teeth at all of them.”

It took Ron a moment, but finally he leveled his gaze with hers. A faint smile flickered across his unwilling lips.

“Oh, fine. Whatever.”

Hermione smiled at him proudly.

“But I still refuse to accept that he’s going to be decent to us,” Ron mumbled afterwards. Hermione rolled her eyes at him.

“Point taken, it is Malfoy. But rise above, Ron. Rise above.” She grinned at him again and Harry laughed as Ron’s cheeks flushed a furious pink.

“Okay, but this doesn’t mean I’m looking forward to practicing with him practically one on one,” Harry said.

“Oh, I had to do it and I survived,” Hermione said dismissively. “He was surprisingly civil.”

“Gee, Hermione, were you giggling again?” Ron muttered spitefully. Harry turned and gave his friend a reproaching look as Hermione opened her mouth to retort hotly. Fortunately, the brewing of another argument was quelled when Seamus interrupted them.

“Oi, Harry, breaks over and its time for our little practice with, er, Malfoy,” He spat out Malfoy’s name distastefully and wrinkled his freckled nose.

“Ug, already?” Harry looked up at the stage where Professor Trelawney was motioning for students to re-take their places.

“I’d better go,” Hermione said briskly, grabbing her script as she made for the stage. Seamus glanced down at a surly looking Ron.

“Hey, Ron, come join Harry and me doing battle with Malfoy. Trelawney’s just rehashing the first scene up on the stage, so you’re free to do whatever.”

Ron looked up at Seamus and smiled faintly. At least he could stick with Harry and Seamus, his fellow Gryffindors. Reluctantly Harry and Ron followed Seamus over to a corner of the room where Malfoy was sitting. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest and he had a bored expression on his thin lips.

“Ah, the Gryffindor cavalry,” he smirked at the three of them. “Or is it the Three Stooges?” Unfortunately, Harry and Seamus were so shocked by his Muggle-culture reference that they both stopped abruptly causing Ron to bump into them and stumble. Malfoy raised his eyes bemusedly at this, but didn’t comment further. He stood up to face them, leaving his lines on the chair beside him.

“Let’s get this over with,” Harry said dully, scanning his own copy of the scene.

“Fine,” Malfoy’s eyes rested on Ron for a second. “Though I don’t believe the Weasel is in it anywhere.”

“I’m staying here, thank you very much,” Ron said in a rather surly tone. Malfoy shrugged and stepped further away. In a bit of a huff Ron took a seat, as did Harry.

“Anyway, it begins with Benedick and Claudio and then I come back in the middle,” Harry remarked, flipping over the pages.

“Then let’s proceed,” Malfoy said with a smirk. Seamus gave a desperate look at Harry, but then turned to his lines grudgingly.

“ ‘Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of Signior Leonato?’ ” Seamus said, with less enthusiasm then his previous performance. Malfoy, however, did not skip a beat.

“ ‘I noted her not; but I looked upon her.’ ”

“ ‘Is she not a modest young lady?’ ” Seamus attempted in a dreamy voice, trying to ignore Malfoy smirking in front of him.

“ ‘Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgment? or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a professed tyrant to their sex?’ ”

As Harry watched he had to admire the ease with which Malfoy turned his normal acrid sarcasm and wit into the more gentle kind of Shakespeare’s Benedick. If he hadn’t known Malfoy like he did he might have not heard the sardonic hint in his tone with Seamus.

“ ‘No; I pray thee speak in sober judgment.’ ”

Ron watched, his anger deepening, as Malfoy’s eyes roamed over to Ginny on the stage.

“ ‘Why, i’faith, methinks she’s too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her, that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and being no other but as she is, I do not like her.’ ”

Harry, interested in the fact the Malfoy had apparently memorized all of his lines already, didn’t notice Ron jumping out of his seat.

“Shut up, Malfoy!” Ron said through gritted teeth. Seamus turned to Ron surprised, but Malfoy ignored him and spoke over Ron’s furious red head to Harry.

“Potter, can’t you keep him under control?”

Harry glared at Malfoy but pulled Ron back to his seat.

“What the hell was that about?” He hissed at his friend.

“Malfoy, of course!” Ron said. “He was enjoying throwing all of those insults at Ginny. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her on the stage.”

Harry sighed impatiently. He didn’t enjoy taking Malfoy’s side but to say Ron was overreacting seemed a bit of an understatement.

“Ron, he’s just saying the lines. That’s how Benedick is – he mocks Claudio’s affection for Hero. And, well, Ginny is playing Hero so…”

“So, that doesn’t mean he gets to leer at her,” Ron muttered back, the angry red receding ever so slightly from his face.

Harry sighed again and looked up at Seamus pitifully.

“Um, okay, anyway…” Seamus stuttered, his look going from Ron to Malfoy nervously.

“I guess it’s my line.”

Malfoy shifted his weight and crossed his arms.

“Go on then,” he drawled at Seamus.

“ ‘Thou thinkest I am in sport: I pray thee tell me truly how thou likest her.’ ”

Harry mentally chastised Ron for his over protective big brother routine, because Seamus had obviously lost his focus. He was trying to be earnestly in love, begging for the truth and approval from his friend, but it was hard enough to be discussing love with Malfoy without Ron bringing in the old grudges. Once again though, Malfoy proved he was completely unruffled.

Leave it to Malfoy to be a consummate actor, Harry thought dryly.

“ ‘Would you buy her, that you inquire after her?’ ” Malfoy questioned with his eyes raised in bemusement.

“ ‘Can the world but such a jewel?’ ”

“ ‘Yea, and a case to put it into,’ ” Malfoy responded with a chuckle. “ ‘But speak you this with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting Jack, to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder, and a Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, in what key shall a man take you, to go in the song?’ ”

“ ‘In mine eye she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on.’ ” Seamus ventured his own glance in the direction of the stage where Ginny stood next to Hermione. Malfoy unabashedly followed his gaze.

“ ‘I can yet see without spectacles, and I see no such matter,’ ” he declared frankly, but his gaze remained fixed on the stage, “ ‘There’s her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty as the first of May doth the last of

December.’ ” He turned an incredulous eye back towards Seamus. “ ‘But I hope you have no intent to turn husband, have you?’ ”

“ ‘I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife.’ ” Seamus managed a look that convinced the Benedick in Malfoy that he was infatuated.

“ ‘Is’t come to this?’ ” Malfoy snapped back indignantly. “ ‘In faith, hath not the world one man but he will wear his cap with suspicion? Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again? Go to, i’faith; an thou wilt needs thrust thy neck in a yoke, wear the print of it, and sigh away Sundays. Look; Don Pedro is returned to seek you.’ ”

Malfoy paused for a moment before facing Harry.

“Potter,” he sighed impatiently, “I could be wrong, seeing that I have my lines memorized, but I believe that was your cue.”

Harry immediately felt like an idiot as he grabbed his lines and joined Malfoy and Seamus. “Right…” He muttered softly.

“Fine,” Malfoy smirked and proceeded to repeat the cue in an exaggerated tone. “ ‘Look; Don Pedro is returned to seek you.’ ”

Harry pretended to step into the area occupied by Malfoy and Seamus.

“ ‘What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonato’s?’ ” He asked, glancing down at his lines.

“ ‘I would your Grace would constrain me to tell.’ ” Malfoy replied.

“ ‘I charge thee on thy allegiance,’ ” Harry said, struggling not to laugh both in character and then in the contemplation that Malfoy would bear any allegiance to himself.

“ ‘You hear, Count Claudio: I can be as a dumb man; I would have you think so; but on my allegiance, mark you this, on my allegiance,’ ” Malfoy went on, almost convincing Harry he really was friends with Seamus, concerned about him being in love, and eager to have the Prince stop him. “ ‘He is in love,’ ” Malfoy continued with mock disdain, or maybe he wasn’t joking. “ ‘With who? now that is your Grace’s part. Mark how short his answer is; - With Hero, Leonato’s short daughter!’ ”

“ ‘If this were so, so it were uttered.’ ” Seamus said simply.

“ ‘Like the old tale, my lord: ‘it is not so, nor ‘twas not so, but, indeed, God forbid it should be so.’ ’ ” Malfoy said dolefully.

“ ‘If my passion change not shortly, God forbid it should be otherwise.’ ” Seamus declared.

“ ‘Amen, if you love her; for the lady is very well worthy.’ ” Harry said.

“ ‘You speak this to fetch me in, my lord.’ ” Seamus quoted defensively.

“ ‘By my troth, I speak my thought,’ ” Harry replied.

“ ‘And, in faith, my lord, I spoke mine,’ ” Seamus shot back.

“ ‘And, by my two faiths and troths, my lord, I spoke mine,’ ” Malfoy said quickly, stepping forward.

“ ‘That I love her, I feel,’ ” Seamus said.

“ ‘That she is worthy, I know,’ ” Harry read, keeping pace.

“ ‘That I neither feel how she should be loved, nor know how she should be worthy, is the opinion that fire cannot melt out of me: I will die in it at the stake,’ ” Malfoy confirmed. Harry turned to him, caught up in how well their scene reading was going, and said his lines, for once, from memory.  

“ ‘Thou wast ever an obstinate heretic in the despite of beauty.’ ”

“ ‘And never could maintain his part but in the force of his will,’ ” Seamus commented wryly.

“ ‘That a woman conceived me, I thank her; that she brought me up, I likewise give her most humble thanks: but that I will have a recheat winded in my forehead, or hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick, all women shall pardon me-’”

Malfoy’s speech was suddenly interrupted when Seamus burst into laughter. Malfoy’s eyes darted in surprise at Seamus, and Harry turned to him inquisitively.

“What’s so funny?” Malfoy snapped, and Harry was reminded of his meeting with Malfoy on the Hogwarts Express when Ron had snickered at his name. However, to his surprise, Seamus continued laughing and smiled at Malfoy.

“It’s not – I’m not laughing at you,” Seamus got out in between laughs. “It’s just – that line – I mean – it’s so…dirty…”

Malfoy and Harry exchanged perplexed looks.

“What?” Harry said.

“Oh come on,” Seamus said, forcing himself to stop laughing so hard. “ ‘hang my bugle in an invisible baldrick,’ ” he snickered again. Harry’s face suddenly lit up as he comprehended it and his eyes locked with Ron for a second. Ron had moved to the edge of his seat and had his hand over his mouth, amusement twinkling in his eyes. Harry’s gaze shifted back at Malfoy. His usually stoic or smirking lips were now apparently trying to suppress his own amusement.

“Okay, Finnigan, we got the point,” he said, though it was without his usual scowl. “Shall we continue?”

“Sure, Malfoy, sure,” Seamus said sobering up. “Sorry about that,” he said, but there was still a twinkle in his bright blue eyes.

“ ‘…all women shall pardon me,’ ” Malfoy picked up, “ ‘Because I will not do them the wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the right to trust none; and the fine is, for the which I may go the finer, I will live a bachelor.’ ”

Harry smiled at Malfoy. “ ‘I shall see thee, ere I die, look pale with love.’ ”

“ ‘With anger, with sickness, or with hunger, my lord; not with love,’ ” said Malfoy softly but firmly. “ ‘Prove that ever I lose more blood with love than I will get again with drinking, pick out mine eyes with a ballad-maker’s pen, and hang me up at the door of a brothel-house for the sign of blind Cupid.’ ”

“ ‘Well, if ever thou dost fall from this faith, thou wilt prove a notable argument,’ ” smiled Harry at Malfoy with less effort than he would have thought.

“ ‘If I do, hang me in a bottle like a cat, and shoot at me; and he that hits me, let him be clapped on the shoulder and call me Adam.’ ” This time it was Malfoy who paused, frowning at the words he had just spoken. “Adam? Who the hell am I talking about?”

“Shooting at a cat enclosed in a wooden bottle or barrel was a favorite country sport and ‘Adam’ may be a reference to Adam Bell, the outlaw of ballad tradition, held to be a champion archer.”

Malfoy, Seamus and Harry all turned sharply around and stared in awe at Ron, who had spoken.

“Oh,” he mumbled, seeing their shocked expressions. He motioned to the script he was holding. “It’s here in the footnotes.”

“Obviously,” Malfoy drawled, casting one last skeptical look at Ron. “No one believed you actually knew that Weasel.”

Ron’s eyes narrowed dangerously, but Harry stepped in front of him, blocking Malfoy’s view.

“Okay, I think rehearsal is almost up, so let’s just get through your next speech, Malfoy,” he said quickly, attempting a conciliatory tone. Malfoy rolled his eyes.

“Sure, fine, whatever.”

Harry jumped at hearing these words come from Malfoy’s mouth when Ron had said the same thing earlier. He shook himself slightly, and then looked back down to his script to say his line.

“ ‘Well, as time shall try: ‘In time the savage bull doth bear the yoke.’ ’ ”

“ ‘The savage bull may; but if ever the sensible Benedick bear it, pluck off the bull’s horns, and set them in my forehead: and let me be vilely painted; and in such great letters as they write ‘Here is good horse to hire,’ let them signify under my sign ‘Here you may see Benedick the married man.’ ’ ”

As Malfoy finished, Ron tried to look on impassively, but he was sure another scowl was creeping up his face. Why the hell did Malfoy have to be so good? He tried to turn his attention back to Harry, who looked like he was going to say something, but he was interrupted by Professor Trelawney clapping her hands.

“Wonderful first rehearsal, ladies and gentlemen,” she said, beaming faintly at all of them. It looked odd when mixed with her huge, jeweled glasses and gypsy-insect appearance. “Keep working on your lines – you are to learn those on your own. When we come together it will be to rehearse – not practice – and to set the staging and work with props.” She glanced down at a sheet of paper in her hands. “Next time we will breeze through Scene I again – through to the end, including the conversation with Don Pedro and Claudio,” she peered over her glasses at Harry and Seamus, “And then try to get through Scene II and Scene III so we can start Act II.”

“Hey, Ron!” Harry whispered to his friend, who had stood up from the chair and joined his side. “Scene III – that’s your big moment.”

“Humph,” Ron shrugged indifferently, thinking about having to deal with Malcolm and Graham. Harry frowned at Ron’s melancholy and turned his attention back to Professor Trelawney.

“Okay, that’s all I have for now. Until next time!” She finished airily and drifted to the back of the stage as Fred, Ginny, Hermione and the rest clambered down the steps.

Harry and Seamus exchanged glances with each other awkwardly, as if unsure if they should bother saying bye to Malfoy. He saved them the hassle.

Without a word he snatched up his lines from the seat and turned on his heel and gracefully walked out of the Hall without a word. Harry’s eyes followed him unconsciously as Malcolm, Blaise and Graham trailed behind him and they disappeared from sight.

“That was… weird…” Seamus said blankly.

Harry nodded, conflicted about Malfoy’s restraint, but he still saw Ron rolling his eyes in exasperation. He was about to question Ron about what was wrong (though he had a feeling it had to do with a platinum blond Slytherin) when Hermione bounded up to them.

“So, how’d it go? Was it that bad?” She gave an exaggerated look at Harry and Seamus. “Hmmm… you don’t have any hex marks…” Her fingers reached for Harry’s neckline.

Harry pushed her hand away with a mock annoyance and shook his head.

“No, we lived.” He inclined his head towards the brooding Ron, “And Malfoy did too.”

“Not my choice,” Ron muttered.

“Oh, honestly Ron, let it go,” Hermione said. “Quite sulking.”

Harry gave her a warning look; he had a feeling Ron would never let his grudge against Malfoy go. And he couldn’t really blame him. Not that Malfoy had been is usual obnoxious self this time…

This time.

“I’m not sulking,” Ron said, his voice rising in anger.

“Good,” Hermione said lightly as they began walking back to the common room.

“You know what was unnerving though?” Seamus said.

“What?” asked Hermione.

“Besides Malfoy not being a prick just to lull us all into a sense of false security?” Ron grumbled.

“Uh, no…” Seamus half-laughed. “But Malfoy seems to already have all of his lines memorized. Or, at least the first act…”

“Must be that Slytherin ambition we’ve heard so much about,” Harry said wryly. Ron snorted again.

“But, the reading did go quite, er, smoothly,” Seamus continued.

“Until Seamus had a giggle fit,” Harry laughed, ducking Seamus’ arm as it rose to swat him.

“Doesn’t that sound familiar?” Ron said dryly.

“Really?” Hermione said, trying to ignore Ron.

“It was a dirty line, that’s all. It just… tickled me,” Seamus continued defensively.

“So that was the one interruption?” Hermione replied, obviously impressed that the boys hadn’t torn each other to shreds or bickered the whole time.

“Yeah. Oh well, that and when Malfoy asked a question about a line,” supplied Seamus.

“I’m sure it was similar to your practice with him,” Harry said lightly. “Not using his script and all to be impressive.”

“Oh, well, actually,” Hermione fumbled. “We didn’t actually practice the lines.”

“What?” Harry asked, confused. “But you guys were talking and…” he trailed off.

“Yeah. But we didn’t get around to the lines. The first time I heard him speak his lines were when we were up on the stage.” Hermione tried to ignore the three boys curious stares and attempted to keep talking to divert them. “He does seem to have his lines down really good. And the timing. I had to concentrate to keep pace with him, you know. Guess I should brush up on my lines. I think I know them well, but I should get more confidence so I can add in staging and props and-”

“How long can she go on like this?” Seamus asked, wide-eyes at Harry.

“Forever,” he muttered back. “We haven’t forgotten yet, Hermione.”

“What?” She asked innocently.

“Well, what did you and Malfoy have to talk about other than the play?”

“Maybe he gave you another comedy routine?” Ron intervened.

“You’re so ornery!” Hermione muttered. She looked back to Seamus and Harry. “Nothing interesting. Just… somehow we got on the subject of Oscar Wilde.”

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. “Oscar Wilde?” He repeated incredulously. “You bonded over Oscar Wilde?”

“We didn’t bond,” Hermione said, getting irritated. “It just came up, and then suddenly it was time to join everyone on the stage.”

“Hey, whatever floats your boat,” Seamus said with a wink.

“What does that mean?” Ron muttered under his breath. Hermione however gave Seamus a weird look.

“Have any of you even read any Oscar Wilde?”

Harry and Ron both shrugged in the negative. Seamus smiled knowingly at Hermione again.

“Oh, I have. In my old school,” he winked again at her. “Cheeky fellow, isn’t he?”

Hermione decided to play along and grinned back.

“Yeah, and Irish too.”

“Don’t you know it,” Seamus grinned as they stepped through the portrait hole, Harry and Ron giving them weird glances as they went first.

Hermione laughed and took a seat on the couch, Seamus sitting next to her.

“I would never have pinned Malfoy for a fan of Oscar Fingal O’Flahertie Wills Wilde,” Seamus mused aloud.

“Exactly, that’s what started the conversation,” Hermione nodded.

Harry turned to Ron.

“Do you have a clue what they’re talking about?”

“I barely recall who Oscar Wilde was,” Ron said.

“He was a brilliant writer,” Hermione supplied eagerly.

“He was eccentric and gay,” Seamus laughed.

“Ag!” Ron through his arms up in the air. “First she plays nice with Malfoy for Shakespeare and now for some Irish fop!” He gave one last look at Hermione. “At least we know where your loyalties lie.”

With that last, irrational statement he stomped up the stairs to the dorm. They all heard the echo as the door slammed.

The three remaining Gryffindors stared in shock at each other. Finally Hermione spoke up.

“What the hell was that?” She exclaimed, making Harry and Seamus jump slightly. “Why is he mad at me? He’s been a twit ever since these auditions!”

Harry and Seamus exchanged nervous glances at each other. They seemed to come to an agreement that telling Hermione their theory that Ron was jealous was not going to work. And, after all, it was just a theory.

“You know Ron and his very irrational temper,” Harry said, remembering his own bout with Ron’s stubbornness right after his name had come out of the Goblet of Fire. “Sometimes he just looks for insults. We all know he can’t stand Malfoy, I guess it bugs him that we are all working together.”

“That’s no excuse,” Hermione snapped. “After today it seems Malfoy’s the better person – he was able to act civil!”

With that she ran up the other set of stairs to the girls’ dorm and they heard another door slam.

“Heh,” Seamus laughed nervously. “Beatrice and Benedick.”

Harry nodded blankly and then stopped. Was Seamus comparing them to Hermione and Ron or Hermione and Malfoy?