Chapter 6- Changes in the Cast
Draco was released from the hospital wing just after lunch had finished. Ginny was released from the deputy headmistress’s office just after the last class of the day. Needless to say, rehearsals were uncomfortable, at best:
“No, Ginny, you must spot! Your pirouettes are too sloppy, and you must get your leg higher into that passé. Hannah, why are you jumping around like a jackrabbit? That is supposed to be a developpe, not ‘lament of a dying deer.’ Padma, you are chasseing on the wrong foot!”
The girl playing Carlotta hit her final note of Hannibal, and Madame Zizi freaked out.
“The fouettes, girls, quickly! You are missing them! Spot, spot!”
The music ended and the old woman sighed and shook her head. “Mah, you will never learn. To dance you must move with the music, feel the emotion. You must stop constantly rearranging your costumes, fixing your hair, laughing at your mistakes; if you keep on like this you will never be good. I cannot take anymore of zis today. Patrick, I am leaving!”
The company stood and watched Madame Zizi sashay out of the room, muttering loudly. Ginny growled angrily and stalked off the stage, heading for the dressing room. She kicked open the door, already ripping at the fasteners of her costume, then stopped dead; Draco Malfoy sat just inside, frozen in the act of pulling on his shirt.
“Nice skirt, Weaslette.”
Ginny glanced down to see the hem of her skirt had become caught in the sequins at the top, pulling one side up to expose most of her thigh. Reddening, she pulled it free and flounced toward the girl’s side of the dressing room. Malfoy was too quick for her.
“What’s your hurry?”
“I want to change,” she replied, staring at the expanse of broad chest in front of her, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I think I owe you a little payback for yesterday, Weaslette.”
Ginny allowed herself a small grin at the way his face shone, thick with a layer of the salve prescribed by Madam Pomfrey. “I think you got exactly what you deserved.”
“I think this is quite an amusing scene.” Patrick raised an eyebrow as he shut the door behind him, quietly as he’d entered. Ginny realized just how they must look, she with her costume half unbuttoned, Draco with his shirt hanging open.
“Personally, I’d rather kill Draco at the moment then. . .whatever you think we were doing.”
Patrick pushed away from the doorframe and pulled Draco out of the doorway of the girl’s dressing room. “Yeah, I guess I can understand that.”
Patrick waved his arms for silence, and the Great Hall slowly quieted. When all attention was on him, he smiled and spoke.
“For those of you who don’t know, I’m Patrick Wilson. I’ve been directing the version of “The Phantom of the Opera” that we’re doing here at Hogwarts. Due to some unfortunate conflicts, I will be stepping down from the part of the Viscount De Chagny, AKA Raoul.
“This means,” he continued over the muttering that had broken out upon this announcement. “That tryouts will be held for a new member of the cast. If you’re interested, Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy, and I will be conducting auditions in the practice room at 2:00 this afternoon. Thank you.”
Patrick stepped down from the podium and the Great Hall at once became a buzz of chatter.
“Gin, why didn’t you tell me Patrick was stepping down?”
Ginny turned to face her friend with a dazed look on her face. “I didn’t know myself, Hermione, not until right this second. I wonder why he’s giving the part up.”
“I’m more interested in why he’s having you and Malfoy try to find the new Raoul,” said Harry, leaning across the table to hear the conversation.
Ginny shrugged and began spearing her green beans. “He probably just wants to get someone that we’ll work well with. I mean, can you imagine if the new Raoul was someone like. . .oh, I don’t know. . .Zacharias Smith? It’d be a nightmare!”
Across the hall, a few key Slytherins were discussing the same thing:
“Why do you think he’s making you spend more time with the little Weasel, Drakie-poo?”
Draco, choosing to pretend he hadn’t heard Pansy use her horrendous little nickname for him, shrugged. “I don’t know, Pansy, and I honestly don’t care. I’m just afraid those auditions are going to be dreadfully boring.”
A handsome, dark skinned boy leaned across the table. “I could come and liven things up for you, Draco.”
"Do it, Blaise." The youngest Malfoy came dangerously close to a smile with the smirk that spread across his face. “I’ll need something to keep me entertained.”
“But Blaisey,” whined Pansy, attempting to bring the focus back to her. “I thought you were going to spend today with me.”
Blaise didn’t look at the simpering girl in front of him, but his eyes grew wide with horror. “I’ll be there, Draco, no question.”
“Actually. . .” Draco’s voice trailed off into thought, but no one interrupted him. “Blaise, I’ve heard you sing; you’re not half bad. I bet we could get you into that part.”
Blaise leaned back in his chair, the characteristic Slytherin smirk plastered on his face. “Obviously, but to what purpose?”
“What do you think?”
Blaise’s smirk turned to an actual smile, albeit a somewhat nasty one. “To annoy the little Weaslette. Excellent.”
True to Ginny’s nightmares, Zacharias Smith did show up to audition, but was promptly shown the door when he began leering at the lead actress. He could be heard just outside the practice room, protesting loudly that he’d not been given a fair chance. Everyone ignored him.
The person after Zacharias was a scrawny little first year of a boy, obviously nervous, whose voice changed octaves every other note. Following him was a bulky seventh year Hufflepuff who had about the same range as Ginny. After him was a boy that no one recognized.
“Do you even go to this school?” Patrick finally asked, after he’d evaded all their other questions.
“No, I’m actually from Beauxbatons, but-”
Needless to say, the day wasn’t going very well. Ginny dropped her head onto her arms, groaning in frustration, Patrick was leaning his chair back on two legs with his eyes closed, and even Draco had fallen into a stupor, staring at nothing.
Thus, it was with relief that Draco saw Blaise Zabini saunter into the room, confident smirk in place. Patrick noticed Draco’s nod of acknowledgement and sat up straighter, feeling a bit hopeful. Ginny, on the other hand, groaned and slumped her shoulders a bit more.
“Oh, good grief, it’s just one thing after another! Go away, Zabini. I can’t handle anymore crap today.”
“Why, little Weaslette, I’m hurt by that,” said Blaise, a feigned look of pain marring his features. “I’ve had no thought in my mind but to serenade you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. Patrick, he’s not serious about trying out.”
“Neither is anyone else,” The director muttered, letting his chair fall back down to all fours. Aloud, he said “We might as well let him audition, Ginny. He’s the first one today who’s said something half-way decent to you.”
The red-head growled low in her throat, but sat back with her arms crossed across her chest. Patrick nodded and turned to the newcomer.
“Your name?”
“Blaise Zabini.”
“Do you know any of the music from the show?”
Blaise snorted. “I’ve had to listen to Draco sing in the shower every stinking day since rehearsals started. I practiced the end part of Prima Donna, if you want to hear that.”
“Yes, that would be fine.” Patrick went and sat behind the piano, flipping the sheet music around until he found the right page. “Ginny, if you will?”
With a huff, the red head stood from her chair and came to lean against the piano. She’d had to sing Carlotta’s part so many times today the song was beginning to sicken her.
Patrick started the music about 30 seconds before the end of the song and Blaise began to sing, leaning against the piano, the notes flowing effortlessly.
“Prima Donna the world is at your feet,
A nation waits, and how it hates to be cheated.”
Ginny came in to finish out the song with Carlotta’s high-pitched melody, and Blaise’s harmony matched her note for note.
“Light up the stage with that age old rapport;
Sing, Prima Donna, once more!”
They held the last note for 17 quick counts, ending perfectly together. The flawless harmony rang in air even after Patrick had cut them off.
With a start, Ginny realized the three men were watching her. She gave each of them a stern look and, when they didn’t stop, threw up her hands in disgust. “Alright, so maybe he can sing!”
Draco was released from the hospital wing just after lunch had finished. Ginny was released from the deputy headmistress’s office just after the last class of the day. Needless to say, rehearsals were uncomfortable, at best:
“No, Ginny, you must spot! Your pirouettes are too sloppy, and you must get your leg higher into that passé. Hannah, why are you jumping around like a jackrabbit? That is supposed to be a developpe, not ‘lament of a dying deer.’ Padma, you are chasseing on the wrong foot!”
The girl playing Carlotta hit her final note of Hannibal, and Madame Zizi freaked out.
“The fouettes, girls, quickly! You are missing them! Spot, spot!”
The music ended and the old woman sighed and shook her head. “Mah, you will never learn. To dance you must move with the music, feel the emotion. You must stop constantly rearranging your costumes, fixing your hair, laughing at your mistakes; if you keep on like this you will never be good. I cannot take anymore of zis today. Patrick, I am leaving!”
The company stood and watched Madame Zizi sashay out of the room, muttering loudly. Ginny growled angrily and stalked off the stage, heading for the dressing room. She kicked open the door, already ripping at the fasteners of her costume, then stopped dead; Draco Malfoy sat just inside, frozen in the act of pulling on his shirt.
“Nice skirt, Weaslette.”
Ginny glanced down to see the hem of her skirt had become caught in the sequins at the top, pulling one side up to expose most of her thigh. Reddening, she pulled it free and flounced toward the girl’s side of the dressing room. Malfoy was too quick for her.
“What’s your hurry?”
“I want to change,” she replied, staring at the expanse of broad chest in front of her, refusing to meet his eyes.
“I think I owe you a little payback for yesterday, Weaslette.”
Ginny allowed herself a small grin at the way his face shone, thick with a layer of the salve prescribed by Madam Pomfrey. “I think you got exactly what you deserved.”
“I think this is quite an amusing scene.” Patrick raised an eyebrow as he shut the door behind him, quietly as he’d entered. Ginny realized just how they must look, she with her costume half unbuttoned, Draco with his shirt hanging open.
“Personally, I’d rather kill Draco at the moment then. . .whatever you think we were doing.”
Patrick pushed away from the doorframe and pulled Draco out of the doorway of the girl’s dressing room. “Yeah, I guess I can understand that.”
Patrick waved his arms for silence, and the Great Hall slowly quieted. When all attention was on him, he smiled and spoke.
“For those of you who don’t know, I’m Patrick Wilson. I’ve been directing the version of “The Phantom of the Opera” that we’re doing here at Hogwarts. Due to some unfortunate conflicts, I will be stepping down from the part of the Viscount De Chagny, AKA Raoul.
“This means,” he continued over the muttering that had broken out upon this announcement. “That tryouts will be held for a new member of the cast. If you’re interested, Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy, and I will be conducting auditions in the practice room at 2:00 this afternoon. Thank you.”
Patrick stepped down from the podium and the Great Hall at once became a buzz of chatter.
“Gin, why didn’t you tell me Patrick was stepping down?”
Ginny turned to face her friend with a dazed look on her face. “I didn’t know myself, Hermione, not until right this second. I wonder why he’s giving the part up.”
“I’m more interested in why he’s having you and Malfoy try to find the new Raoul,” said Harry, leaning across the table to hear the conversation.
Ginny shrugged and began spearing her green beans. “He probably just wants to get someone that we’ll work well with. I mean, can you imagine if the new Raoul was someone like. . .oh, I don’t know. . .Zacharias Smith? It’d be a nightmare!”
Across the hall, a few key Slytherins were discussing the same thing:
“Why do you think he’s making you spend more time with the little Weasel, Drakie-poo?”
Draco, choosing to pretend he hadn’t heard Pansy use her horrendous little nickname for him, shrugged. “I don’t know, Pansy, and I honestly don’t care. I’m just afraid those auditions are going to be dreadfully boring.”
A handsome, dark skinned boy leaned across the table. “I could come and liven things up for you, Draco.”
"Do it, Blaise." The youngest Malfoy came dangerously close to a smile with the smirk that spread across his face. “I’ll need something to keep me entertained.”
“But Blaisey,” whined Pansy, attempting to bring the focus back to her. “I thought you were going to spend today with me.”
Blaise didn’t look at the simpering girl in front of him, but his eyes grew wide with horror. “I’ll be there, Draco, no question.”
“Actually. . .” Draco’s voice trailed off into thought, but no one interrupted him. “Blaise, I’ve heard you sing; you’re not half bad. I bet we could get you into that part.”
Blaise leaned back in his chair, the characteristic Slytherin smirk plastered on his face. “Obviously, but to what purpose?”
“What do you think?”
Blaise’s smirk turned to an actual smile, albeit a somewhat nasty one. “To annoy the little Weaslette. Excellent.”
True to Ginny’s nightmares, Zacharias Smith did show up to audition, but was promptly shown the door when he began leering at the lead actress. He could be heard just outside the practice room, protesting loudly that he’d not been given a fair chance. Everyone ignored him.
The person after Zacharias was a scrawny little first year of a boy, obviously nervous, whose voice changed octaves every other note. Following him was a bulky seventh year Hufflepuff who had about the same range as Ginny. After him was a boy that no one recognized.
“Do you even go to this school?” Patrick finally asked, after he’d evaded all their other questions.
“No, I’m actually from Beauxbatons, but-”
Needless to say, the day wasn’t going very well. Ginny dropped her head onto her arms, groaning in frustration, Patrick was leaning his chair back on two legs with his eyes closed, and even Draco had fallen into a stupor, staring at nothing.
Thus, it was with relief that Draco saw Blaise Zabini saunter into the room, confident smirk in place. Patrick noticed Draco’s nod of acknowledgement and sat up straighter, feeling a bit hopeful. Ginny, on the other hand, groaned and slumped her shoulders a bit more.
“Oh, good grief, it’s just one thing after another! Go away, Zabini. I can’t handle anymore crap today.”
“Why, little Weaslette, I’m hurt by that,” said Blaise, a feigned look of pain marring his features. “I’ve had no thought in my mind but to serenade you since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up. Patrick, he’s not serious about trying out.”
“Neither is anyone else,” The director muttered, letting his chair fall back down to all fours. Aloud, he said “We might as well let him audition, Ginny. He’s the first one today who’s said something half-way decent to you.”
The red-head growled low in her throat, but sat back with her arms crossed across her chest. Patrick nodded and turned to the newcomer.
“Your name?”
“Blaise Zabini.”
“Do you know any of the music from the show?”
Blaise snorted. “I’ve had to listen to Draco sing in the shower every stinking day since rehearsals started. I practiced the end part of Prima Donna, if you want to hear that.”
“Yes, that would be fine.” Patrick went and sat behind the piano, flipping the sheet music around until he found the right page. “Ginny, if you will?”
With a huff, the red head stood from her chair and came to lean against the piano. She’d had to sing Carlotta’s part so many times today the song was beginning to sicken her.
Patrick started the music about 30 seconds before the end of the song and Blaise began to sing, leaning against the piano, the notes flowing effortlessly.
“Prima Donna the world is at your feet,
A nation waits, and how it hates to be cheated.”
Ginny came in to finish out the song with Carlotta’s high-pitched melody, and Blaise’s harmony matched her note for note.
“Light up the stage with that age old rapport;
Sing, Prima Donna, once more!”
They held the last note for 17 quick counts, ending perfectly together. The flawless harmony rang in air even after Patrick had cut them off.
With a start, Ginny realized the three men were watching her. She gave each of them a stern look and, when they didn’t stop, threw up her hands in disgust. “Alright, so maybe he can sing!”
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