The Play's the Thing

Hermione bounced in her seat, looking around the Great Hall, which had been hastily made over into an auditorium for the casting announcements and rehearsal immediately following. "I do hope I've been picked," she said. "It's extra credit if you're taking Muggle Studies, you know."

"Like you need it," Ron scoffed. "What'll that make, then? Three hundred fifty percent?"

"Two hundred seven, Ron; you're not funny in the least." But she stopped bouncing and looked around. "Fewer people auditioned than I thought... I wonder if we'll be able to fill all the parts?"

Harry shrugged. "Othello's not got a lot of characters in it, remember? I think we'll be fine."

At that moment, Professor Dumbledore walked onto the simple stage. "Well, here we all are. I'm pleased to see such a nice turnout for the Hogwarts annual school play. As you all know, the play this year is Othello, by the great Muggle playwright William Shakespeare."

From the direction of a knot of Slytherins came a very familiar drawling voice. "Great Muggle *anything* is news to me." A brief wave of snickers followed this remark.

Once they'd died down, Dumbledore continued speaking as though he hadn't been interrupted. "And to announce the casting, I will introduce your director this year-"

"Last year it was Flitwick," Hermione hissed in an undertone, "and I heard he was really good."

"As long as it's not Snape, I'm happy," Harry whispered back.

"-Gilderoy Lockhart."

There was total silence for a moment, then Ron burst out, "WHAT?!"

Lockhart, who'd walked out onto the stage, grinned amiably. "Well, it's a sort of welcome, isn't it?" he asked. He looked the same as he had three years back, but at the same time quite different. His hair no longer glistened when the light struck it right, but rather was allowed to fall perfectly naturally around his face. Also, instead of the blindingly bright coloured robes they'd gotten used to, he was wearing Muggle jeans and a green sweatshirt. All in all, he looked like someone who'd lost his memory and was trying out various looks to see what fit right. "So the play this year is... what is it again?"

"Oh God..." Ron moaned under his breath. "I thought we were rid of that git permanently."

Hermione frowned. "I bet he's not got his memory back yet. Dumbledore's probably giving him a job here hoping it'll help him remember."

"Othello," Dumbledore supplied in response to Lockhart's question.

"Right. Well then. I have the scriptbooks here... somewhere... ah, here they are." Lockhart watched raptly as a wooden box with far, far too many legs lumbered onstage. "Excellent." He rapped smartly on the box's lid. "Open up."

Obediently, it did, managing at the same time to display a row of very sharp teeth as well as stacks of slim blue books. Lockhart picked one up. "So here's how we're going to do this. The scripts have already been highlighted and names written inside. I'll call off names and you can come up and get your scripts. Those of you who are not chosen to play a part or otherwise assist will leave. All right?"

"He was doing fine until he asked whether it was all right," Hermione muttered. "Now people will go out of their way to make problems."

"Ssh!" Harry hissed.

"We'll start, of course, with the title role, which goes to..." Lockhart flipped open the scriptbook he held. "Dean Thomas."

"Good choice," Hermione noted approvingly.

"Will you stop?" Ron demanded in a strangled whisper.

"Next, we have.. ah, Desdemona. Ginny Weasley."

There was a shrill, joyful squeal from somewhere in the rear, and Ginny bounded onto the stage to claim her script. Hermione frowned, but didn't say anything.

"And... our villain, Iago. Draco Malfoy."

Ron barely managed to keep from bellowing another "WHAT?!", instead turning it into helpless choking.

Hermione just nodded. "I was afraid of that."

"They cast Malfoy!" Ron half-moaned.

"He's perfect for the part, Ron," Hermione said reluctantly.

"Shut up. That only makes it worse."

"Next, Cassio. ...Harry Potter."

Harry blinked and stood up to go get his scriptbook and stand with the others. Of them, only Ginny and Malfoy had immediately opened theirs and begun to read.

Lockhart retrieved the next two scriptbooks out of the case. "Roderigo, Ron Weasley." Malfoy broke into stifled snickering without looking up from his script. "Emilia, Hermione Granger." The snickering, stifled or no, immediately stopped, replaced by a look of such horror that Harry was hard-pressed not to start laughing himself.

"And just to speed things up..." Lockhart retrieved the last six scriptbooks, and the box snapped shut, barely missing his hand. "Bianca, Pansy Parkinson." Hermione threw shocked looks Harry's direction. "Brabantio, Seamus Finnegan. The remaining bit parts go to... Neville Longbottom, Colin Creevey, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle."

There were a few scattered mutters as those not cast filed out of the Great Hall. "That's that then," Lockhart said cheerfully, turning to face the small crowd of students-turned-actors. "Shall we get started?"