Hugo’s face was screwed up with concentration. “What’s ‘fervid’ mean?”
Gennifer sighed, and then turned to Josephina. “You’ve obviously practiced, Jo, and it shows. Nice preparation.”
“Tell me,” Tabitha said, lowering her eyes to the tabletop and furrowing her brow, “were you attempting to present Astra as sad and forlorn, or are we to believe that she has just experienced a complete frontal lobotomy?”
Josephina’s smile went brittle. “Take it however you want, Tabitha. I don’t think anyone else shares your, ah, professional interpretation.”
“I’m not sure that matters exactly,” Tabitha said sweetly, meeting Josephina’s eyes.
“If you wanted the part,” Josephina said, dropping her smile, “then you should’ve auditioned for it. Otherwise, let those few who know how to act do their job.”
“Point noted, Miss Bartlett,” Curry said quickly. “Please feel free to return to your seat. Now, also reading for the part of Astra, we have Petra Morganstern, seventh-year, Gryffindor. Miss Morganstern, are you prepared for your reading?”
Petra rose from her seat at the back of the room. James turned to watch her approach the stage area. She had the script with her, and as she turned to face the gallery, she consulted it. Her lips moved as she read the first lines.
“I tried to practice with her,” Rose whispered to James, “but she said she wanted to do it fresh, with no rehearsing. I swear, she’s hardly even read the whole script yet.”
Petra lowered the script again and coughed into her fist. Finally, she looked out over the crowd of students, her face almost blank but for a very slight furrowing of her brow. There was almost ten seconds of silence, and James was worried that Petra had already forgotten her lines. Finally, almost in a whisper, Petra said the first word of the reading: “Hark.”
The entire room seemed to lean forward as Petra recited the lines, quietly, thoughtfully, as if to herself. Her voice rose only to normal speaking volume as she reached the end.
“O Treus, is’t thee?” she said, and her voice was full of doubt, as if she knew Astra’s hope was as frail as tissue. “State thy coming now, or let me join thy bed and sleep in dreary death…” She paused, and her voice dropped again, to just above a whisper. “Treus, make thy answer known, or bid my soul depart… to flee to everlasting sleep… to death.”
Petra stopped, her face still wearing the same expression she’d begun with. She seemed to be looking through the back wall at something very far-off, like a mirage. Then, without a glance at the committee table, she tucked the script under her arm and walked back down the center aisle. James watched her until she returned to her seat.
“Very nice, Miss Morganstern,” Professor Curry said. “A bit soft for the stage, but we can work on the histrionics when the time comes.”
“She missed the second ‘depart’,” Josephina muttered from her seat.
There didn’t seem to be any comments from the table. Curry stood, producing her sheaf of parchments again and adjusting her spectacles. “Next, we have final readings for the part of Treus. We’ve narrowed the candidates to some of the younger years since Treus is meant to be the younger of Astra’s two suitors.”
James’ face burned. He’d never told Ralph or Rose that he’d signed up for the part of Treus. His first reading had gone fairly well, although it had only been Professor Curry and a few first-years at that initial audition. He didn’t even know who else was in line for the part. He glanced over at Rose and Ralph.
“I need to tell you something,” he whispered urgently.
“Shh!” Rose hissed.
“Only two candidates remain for the role of Treus,” Curry was saying. “One is from Slytherin and the other is from Gryffindor, but ironically, both are from the same family. First up, in order of first name since they both have the same last name,” Curry smiled indulgently and took off her spectacles, “first-year, Slytherin, Albus Potter.”
Simultaneously, James, Ralph, and Rose’s mouths dropped open. Rose and Ralph turned toward James, but James spun in his seat, looking for his brother. Albus jumped to his feet and jogged to the front of the room, throwing a smile and a shrug in James’ direction. James couldn’t believe it. Albus, in a play? Of course, it wasn’t any more surprising than James himself trying out for a play, but still. So this had been the meaning of Tabitha’s sly wink from the committee table. She’d probably put Albus up to it, just to cause a rift between the two brothers. And Albus was letting her succeed in the attempt. James fumed angrily in his seat.
“You little twonk!” Rose rasped, elbowing James. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I tried!” James replied, still watching his brother hop onto the stage area. “Er, ten seconds ago.”
Albus had apparently memorized his reading. He cleared his throat, and then glanced aside at the committee table. “Am I supposed to say anything?” he asked brightly. “This is only my second time trying out for a play. Am I supposed to thank the academy or something first?”
“That comes rather later, Mr. Potter,” Curry said, smiling indulgently. “Just read the lines, please. At your leisure.”
Albus nodded. To James’ eye, his brother didn’t look the slightest bit nervous. He bobbed on the balls of his feet a little, and then flung out his hands, as if encompassing the room. “Foul Donovan!” he cried, his face darkening. “Thou trait’rous malcontent! Had been there room amongst my thoughts for more than Eros’ spell and vanity, I might have seen thy wicked plot afoot. My sinister and foolish pride did make me bade thy oily tongue, and dreams of fame to take this quest of doom; and now I lie so far removed an obstacle to vile and vicious victory. O Astra, wife of mine at heart, reverse my sails and send a wind to turn us north; we still may beat that villain’s storm! To arms, we’ll take, O men, to bear the force of righteous truth: the spear to pierce his lying heart! But spy, his clouds hath blocked the sun, and time hath turned to foe! Wizards and men, forth draw ye wands and wits to fight the violent seas this night, that by the morn we’ll hold our win, or lie in beds of ocean sand: our beaten glory’s shrine!”
Albus finished his rousing speech with a triumphant cry, shaking an invisible wand at the sky. There was a scattering of laughter and a few whoops of hearty encouragement. This speech was, after all, a classic rallying cry in the wizarding world. A few brave observers had even recited the last line alongside Albus, grinning and shaking their own invisible wands.
“Thank you, Mr. Potter,” Curry called loudly, stifling the outbursts. “Very spirited but not exactly as grave as one might expect. The soldiers are not embarking on a Quidditch match; they are facing the likelihood of their own doom. One might expect their leader to be a bit less glib. Still though, very enthusiastically performed. Please return to your seat.”
Curry didn’t need to consult her parchments. As Albus retreated to his seat, grinning and accepting high-fives from some of his friends, Curry looked directly at James. “And now, also reading for the role of Treus, the elder Potter, James. Secondyear, Gryffindor. Whenever you are ready, Mr. Potter, the stage is all yours.”
James felt stuck to his seat. He forced himself to stand, and then sidled past Rose and Ralph. By the time he got to the stage, his mind was a complete blank. He’d memorized the audition lines, but now, distracted by Albus’ surprise performance, he couldn’t even think of the first word. He glanced over at the committee table and grinned sheepishly. Professor Curry nodded encouragement. Tabitha was smiling smugly, obviously enjoying James’ discomfort. A spark of anger flared in James as he looked at that grin, and with that anger, he remembered the first two words of his lines.
“Foul Donovan,” James said, turning to look out at the gallery. His eyes met Albus’, and his anger increased. It smoldered in his words as he delivered them through partially gritted teeth. “Thou trait’rous malcontent! Had been there room amongst my thoughts for more than Eros’ spell and vanity, I might have seen thy wicked plot afootâ€
¦” As the words came, James allowed his own resentment to fuel them. His voice rose, and he even allowed himself to look askance at Tabitha. He was grimly pleased to see she was no longer smiling. “Wizards and men, forth draw ye wands and wits,” James said, as if relishing the idea of a fight. “To fight the violent seas this night, that by the morn we’ll hold our win, or lie in beds of ocean sand: our beaten glory’s shrine!”
Rose erupted into applause. Ralph and a few others joined her, but they were quickly quelled by a warning look from Professor Curry.
“Very impassioned, I must say, Mr. Potter,” Curry said appreciatively. “I’m not sure where you found your motivation, but I daresay it was quite effective. Ahem. You may take your seat. Next up, we have Miss Ashley Doone, secondyear, Gryffindor, reading for the part of the Marsh Hag. Miss Doone, you have the stage.”
Ashley approached the stage in character, hunched over and lurching. She reached the stage, paused, and then spun around, shrieking hoarsely and hooking her fingers into claws. James, seating himself rather triumphantly in the front row, had to suppress a grin.
“That was spectacular,” Rose whispered into his ear. “I wouldn’t have thought you had it in you!”
“You were the one who told me I should try out for the part,” James whispered back.
“Yeah, well, I was just being polite,” Rose admitted. “But I’m glad I did. That was really amazing. I had goosebumps.”
Twenty minutes later, the assembly filed out of the Muggle Studies classroom. James followed Rose and Ralph into the corridor and stopped, his eyes wide.
“Don’t act so surprised,” Rose said, clapping him on the shoulder. “You were brilliant. You deserve the part.”
“But I’m not an actor,” James said, looking at her a bit wildly.
“It’s a bit late to worry about that little detail,” Ralph grinned.
Albus shouldered through the crowd and approached his brother. “Yeah, well, I didn’t really want to be up on stage anyway,” he said, spreading his arms. “Have fun making lovey eyes at Josephina.”
“Don’t remind me,” Rose said emphatically. “I can’t believe they chose her over Petra.”
“I thought she did pretty well,” Ralph commented, looking up at the ceiling.
“You think she looked pretty well, that’s all,” Rose replied, shaking her head. “I can see right through you, Ralph Deedle.”
“That’s not true,” Ralph said defensively. “Well, I mean, it is true, but that’s not why I think she deserves the part.”
Tabitha stepped out of the classroom and spied Albus. She smiled and walked over toward the group. “Congratulations, James. Inspiring performance. It’s good to see you and Albus aren’t too competitive about such things.”
“Get stuffed, Corsica,” James said, turning away. “Don’t try to act happy that we aren’t at each other’s throats.”
Tabitha looked mournfully at James, but Albus’ face darkened. “What the bloody hell is wrong with you, James? You act like Tabitha has it in for us. I’ll bet you don’t even know that she voted for you to get the part! And I agreed with her! So why don’t you just back off a little, eh?”
James wheeled on his brother, but another voice called out before he could respond.
“Tabitha didn’t vote for me, but I still got the part,” Josephina said. She smiled at Tabitha from where she stood, surrounded by a gaggle of exulting Ravenclaw girls. “Score one for ‘full frontal lobotomy’, score zero for Tabitha’s ‘professional interpretation’.”
The girls giggled as Josephina batted her eyes, and then turned to walk away. Tabitha seemed as unruffled as always, but she’d also forgotten about James. She swept into the throng without looking back, apparently following Josephina and her entourage. Albus threw a rankled look at James and stalked away as well.
“I’m going to go find Petra,” Rose said, shaking her head in disgust. “She’s sure to be disappointed about losing the part. I’ll see the two of you in the gym after dinner. Don’t forget.”
“We won’t,” Ralph replied, annoyed.
“For the last half an hour, I’d completely forgotten about that dratted club meeting,” James mourned, turning to follow the rest of the departing students toward dinner in the Great Hall.
“Don’t worry about it,” Ralph said happily. “What’s a little Defence Club meeting to the great Treus, Conqueror of the Caspian Sea?”
9. THE LADY OF THE LAKE
James sat with Graham and Hugo at dinner, letting most of the conversation drift over him as he concentrated on how best to manage the Defence Club meeting. Rose had eaten quickly and gone ahead to make sure the gym was ready for them, and Ralph was busy collecting the names of everyone who’d expressed interest in being involved. The list had grown rather long, and James’ trepidation about the class had grown with it. Even though he was sharing responsibility for the class with Ralph and Rose, he couldn’t help feeling that the club members would look to him as the symbolic leader of the troop. Finally, having barely eaten, James left the table. It wouldn’t hurt for him to get to the gym a little early as well, and it would probably be comforting to be around Rose anyway. She seemed positively casual about the entire affair. James suspected that her Weasley heritage rather enjoyed the giddy uncertainty and potential for disaster.
As he left the Great Hall, James felt a nagging, anonymous worry. It was as if he was forgetting something important, but he couldn’t identify what it might be. Even as he moved through the halls and corridors, there was a sense of anxious anticipation in the air. Students moved in groups, obviously engrossed in spirited conversation, awaiting the evening’s events. James sighed nervously and turned the corner toward the gym.
“There you are,” Rose said, as if she’d expected James hours ago. “The gym is almost ready. There are already people waiting outside in the hall. We just need to roll up the floor pads and wheel in one of the chalkboards.”
“Why do we need a chalkboard?” James asked.
Rose gave him an impatient glance. “So we can write down the spells and hexes we practice. It’ll be a lot easier for people to concentrate if they don’t have to memorize the incantations on the spot. There’s a chalkboard on casters over in the Charms classroom, next hall over. Go and wheel it in here and we’ll be ready to get started.”
Annoyed at being ordered around but glad of the distraction, James turned around and left the gym. Sure enough, students were gathering in the hall outside. They leaned against the wall and sat on the floor in loose groups, all of them looking up as James came out.
“We’ll, er, start in just a few minutes,” James said, trying to put some authority into his voice. Nearby, Cameron Creevey grinned and waved. A gaggle of first-years stood with him, their eyes wide and excited. James blinked at the gathering students. There was a good number of them, although not as many as he’d expected. He should have been relieved, but he wasn’t. That nagging worry crept over him again. What was he forgetting?
James worked his way around to the next corridor, which was darker and completely deserted. He got to the Charms classroom and found it unlocked. The chalkboard stood on a wooden frame in the corner. Tiny metal wheels were attached to the bottom. James grabbed the end of the frame and began to pull, but the wheels were rusty. They squealed and dragged on the floor.
From the doorway, a voice asked, “Do you require some assistance, Mr. Potter?”
James spun as if he’d been caught doing something illegal. Merlin stood in the doorway, almost completely blocking it. His form was very shadowy in the dim room.
“I’m—” James began, surprised that he felt so nervous. After all, they had permission to hold the club meeting, didn’t they? And yet he felt a strong reluctance to tell the Headmaster what he was doing. “I’m just trying to move the chalkboard. We, er, wanted to borrow it. To make some notes.”
Merlin nodded inscrutably. “How are preparations for your defensive techniques club coming along, Jame
s?”
James’ heart quickened. “Uh… good. Fine. We’ve been pretty busy, you know. But… good.”
“Would you like some assistance with that?” Merlin asked in his low, rumbling voice. “I’d be happy to help you relocate it to wherever you wish. If anyone wondered what you were up to, I could vouch for your ‘borrowing’ it.”
“No, thanks,” James said quickly, letting go of the chalkboard. “Actually, we probably don’t really need it. It was just an idea, but it’s not worth the trouble. Really.”
Merlin didn’t move for a long moment. Finally, he seemed to relax and smile. “As you wish, James.”
The big man turned to leave, and James felt a huge, strange sense of relief as Merlin’s gaze left him. The club would just have to do without the chalkboard, James determined. He crossed the darkened classroom and was nearly to the door when Merlin turned back, his eyes glittering in the dark corridor.
“Honestly, I didn’t expect you to be inside tonight, James,” the big wizard said curiously.
James didn’t quite know how to respond. “Er… no? Where did you expect me to be?”
“Tonight is rather an important night for many students. I understand that even those who do not intend to participate rather enjoy watching the proceedings. They like to get a sense of how the season might progress.”
A sudden sinking sensation filled James. His cheeks went cold. “Oh no…,” he said, widening his eyes. “It’s tonight! That’s why there were fewer people than I expected in the hall! It’s already started!”
“Is it possible that you forgot?” Merlin said, a strange smile creeping over his face. “I assumed you were quite the fan of Quidditch. If you hurry, I expect you may still see the end of the tryouts.”
James barely heard him. He turned on his heels and bolted along the corridor, cursing his forgetfulness. If he’d not been so obsessed with worrying about the stupid Defence Club, he’d have known that the first meeting conflicted with Quidditch tryouts. Neither Rose nor Ralph was trying out for the teams, so they wouldn’t even have considered the conflict. James had been practicing all summer for the opportunity to be on the Gryffindor House team. He desperately wanted to make up for his devastating performance at last year’s tryouts. Also, Albus was out there even now, trying out for the Slytherin team on Tabitha Corsica’s cursed broomstick. James felt an obsessive impulse to be there when that happened, but he truthfully didn’t know if it was because he wanted to protect Albus or sabotage him.
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