Okay! I admit it! I made a faux pax! The brilliant minds who wrote/produced Anastasia were from Fox, not Disney! I knew there was a reason I liked it! I'll get around to fixing it eventually, but for right now let's just all pretend I said Fox...I don't need to be getting any cease and desist letters in my box. :)
As for that, you have the Company's first performance this time around, and an enjoyable after-party. Have fun!
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Pots of Gold, Rainbows, Horseshoes, and Balloons
"Thanks Tom!" called Ron, waving to the barkeep as he and Harry exited the Cauldron into Diagon Alley. As the Treasurer and President for the company respectively, they had taken it upon themselves to go out one Saturday and find sponsors. They had met with great success, as many of the shops Harry had visited in his years were more than eager to get some extra advertising at a small expense.
"Not bad," said Harry, looking over his paperwork while writing down Tom's name. "We need one more and we're good."
"Any ideas?" asked Ron as they wandered down the cobblestone.
"Actually..." trailed Harry, his eyes flicking over the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes sign ahead of them. Ron seemed to know what he was thinking.
"Please tell me you're not seriously considering the twins," he said, pleading slightly. "Harry, you know they'll try something."
"I was thinking maybe the time was ripe to turn the tables a bit," pondered Harry.
"Oh?" asked Ron. "What have you got in mind?"
Harry leaned over and whispered something in Ron's ear, causing the bespeckled boy's expression to turn from sour to a grin.
"I suppose we could give it a shot," he smiled.
"That's more like it," said Harry, clapping Ron on the back as they entered the shop to the sound of a cow mooing.
"What the bloody hell was that?" asked Ron, looking at the door.
"That, my surreptitious brother, was our welcome bell," grinned Fred from behind the counter.
"Who are you calling surplicious?" asked Ron, raising his eyebrow.
"Now, now, let's not alienate Ickle Ronnikens in front of our financial backer," said George, coming out of the back.
"Funny you should mention that," said Harry, pulling a sheaf of parchment from his clipboard and handing it to Fred. "Take a look."
Fred and George scanned over the paper quickly and looked at each other in disbelief.
"Why on earth didn't you tell us about this earlier?" asked George, turning back to Harry.
"We only started it up a month ago," replied Ron. "We're starting to get the technical stuff ready, so we need support."
"Couldn't you fund it yourself Harry?" asked Fred.
"I want to do it the honest way," he replied. "Are you in?"
"Course we are," they nodded, each signing the parchment. "Wish we could've been in it though...acting has always been a forte of ours."
"Hmm, well I'll tell you what," said Harry, nudging Ron with his foot discretely. "The first show will be in a couple weeks, and we're going to have an after-party. Why don't you two come and stop by?"
"Sounds like fun," nodded George.
"We'll be there," agreed Fred.
"It's a date," grinned Harry.
"I'll let you know when it is exactly," said Ron as they left the shop. "Boy...that was easy."
"We've still got a long way to go," smiled Harry. "Now let's get back to Hogwarts and start planning."
They found the Room of Requirement empty upon their arrival, and agreed to get a head start on hanging some of the set pieces from the catwalk.
"So how exactly are we going to carry this out?" asked Ron, levitating a large wooden cloud up to him.
"I was thinking I'd ask Dobby to help," replied Harry. "He'd be more than happy...I think."
"He'd be more than happy to what?" called a female voice from the entrance.
"Oy, Hermione, give us a hand with this," replied Ron, teetering dangerously over the rail trying to hang the cloud.
"I like my feet planted firmly on the ground, thank you very much," she answered. "What is Dobby going to help with?"
"I got the twins to sponsor us and invited them to an after-party," replied Harry. "We're going to prank them as a thank you."
"You what?" exclaimed Hermione, staring up incredulously at the two of them from the stage.
"I don't see what the big deal is," said Ron, shrugging.
"The deal is that we're supposed to be taking this seriously," she chastised. "We're supposed to be practising and such, not planning some elaborate scheme. You're the one who wanted to take this seriously, am I right, Harry?"
"You are," he nodded. "But at the same time, we all need to keep a sense of humor. Everyone will be in high spirits after the first show, I hope, and I thought it might be nice to throw a little party for them."
"And you wanting to get a laugh at Fred and George's expense had nothing to do with that?" she asked, crossing her arms.
"A little," admitted Harry. "But it's more for everyone else's enjoyment."
He and Ron climbed down the ladder to where Hermione was standing, staring at them.
"You're not going to hold a grudge against us, are you?" asked Ron, wiping his hands on his trousers.
"I suppose not," she sighed after a minute. "So what are we doing?"
"We?" asked Ron.
"You don't think for a minute that you'd get to keep me out of a prank on the twins, do you?"
"Glad to have you aboard, dear," grinned Harry, kissing her on the cheek. "Now here's what we're doing..."
=====
The night of the first show brought a throng of people to the castle. The work had been advertised extremely well, Ron had even gone so far as to take out an advertisement in the Prophet and the results were palpable. Wizards and witches had traveled from as far as the mainland to see Hogwarts' production of Anastasia. While most of the cast was nervous, they were definitely prepared.
"Are you ready?" asked Harry to Hermione, who was getting her makeup done by Lavender Brown. Other performers and stagehands were running around backstage, trying to finish up the last-minute preparations.
"As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose," she sighed. "I can't believe you all picked me to be the lead. I don't even have the right color hair."
"That reminds me," remarked Lavender, flicking her wand. Hermione's dark, unruly hair instantly turned a soft, auburn color. With another flick it was done up into a delicate ponytail.
"That doesn't look half bad," commented Hermione.
"Thank you," smiled Lavender. "How about you, Harry, are you ready to go under the wand?"
"I suppose," he sighed, sitting down next to Hermione.
"You lot about ready?" called out Ron, wearing what looked like a muggle headset. He had opted out of performing in the production, and instead was working as the technical director.
People called out the condition of the tasks they were working on as Ron made marks on a clipboard.
"This charm is really going to come in handy, Hermione," he said, coming over to them as everyone resumed their tasks.
"It's just a version of the Protean Charm," she shrugged. The headsets, while of muggle origin, had been charmed in a fashion so that the crew could communicate with each other quietly during the performance.
"Alright, Harry, your turn," said Lavender, turning to him.
"Be gentle," he joked, as Hermione got up and walked over to where the costumes were being held.
A few minutes later Harry could barely recognise himself. The once jet-black hair was now a light brown, his face was as bespeckled as Ron's, and the scar that had defined him for his entire life had vanished.
"You're a miracle worker, Lav," he said, getting up. "I look just like a con-artist."
"Thanks," she grinned. Gently, she tapped his glasses once, causing them to vanish while leaving Harry's sight the same.
"Where do you learn all these spells?" asked Harry in awe.
"I did my research," she laughed. "Don't forget you're wearing glasses now. And send over Malfoy if you see him, I need to make him old and insane."
"He's loving playing the bad guy," chuckled Ron.
"And you said I wouldn't fit in, scarhead," drawled Malfoy, walking over.
"Well you know how to play someone who wants revenge better than most, I suppose," quipped Harry.
"Touche," sneered Malfoy, sitting down. "Easy on the goods, darling."
"You are so full of yourself," laughed Lavender, rolling her eyes. A large crash caused them to turn and look over at Goyle, who had walked headlong into a large stone statue of a horse.
"Damnit, Goyle watch where you're going," sighed Malfoy.
"Sorry," he muttered, and lumbered off.
"Harry, come here," whispered Hermione from the edge of the curtain. "Look."
He walked over to her and took a peek out at the audience.
Every last seat was filled, from the front row to the highest balcony. About halfway through the audience, he saw two unmistakable faces with flaming red hair dressed to the nines.
"Sold out," he smiled to her. "We'll have to give them a night to remember."
"On the ice?" she laughed.
"Everyone, we're moving out!" called Ernie, walking forward in his tuxedo. "The orchestra's already on their way to the pit."
Having scouted most of the school, Hermione had been able to recruit the most talented musicians Hogwarts had to offer.
"Final positions!" called Ron.
"Go put on your costume," said Hermione, nudging Harry. She was already wearing her winter coat and scarf for her first scene.
"Harry," said Ernie walking over to him. "I've already congratulated Ron, but I wanted to thank you too for the great success in selling out this show."
"Thanks, Ern," he smiled. "But it's not a success yet."
"Quite right," smiled Ernie. "Ready?"
Harry and Hermione nodded.
"Then let's get the show on the road," he said, stepping out from behind the curtain and onto the stage. High above them, Harry could see Ron holding his lit wand into what looked like a large funnel with a magnifying glass in the large opening, effectively creating a massive spotlight which followed Ernie on the stage.
"Ladies and gentlemen may I have your attention please?" he called out. The hubbub from the crowd died down instantly. "On behalf of the Hogwarts Drama Company, I would like to welcome you all to our production of Anastasia, the young Russian princess who was torn from her family at the mere age of eight. I will be your conductor this evening, the narration will be given by Dean Thomas." He paused for a moment while the audience clapped politely. "And now, without further ado, on with the show!"
He stepped into the pit as the crowd applauded and the spotlight faded away. Ernie raised his arms as silence fell over the theater, and began conducting as the orchestra began to play the overture.
"There was a time not too long ago," said Dean's magically amplified voice, "when the great Romanov family of Russia lived in a world of elegant palaces and grand parties. The year was 1916, and Nicholas Romanov was the Czar of Imperial Russia."
The curtain lifted to reveal a grand ballroom with many pairs of people dancing in the center. Gold and diamonds glittered in the light, and above them, a great chandelier hung.
"On this particular night," continued Dean. "The royal family was celebrating the 300th anniversary of Romanov rule..."
=====
The night was coming to an end, and the once bright and cheerful stage was now cast in an eery glow, the night sky shrouded by foreboding clouds.
"Anastasiaaaaa," a dark, low voice called.
Hermione glanced around her surroundings before jogging out onto the bridge they had built high across the stage, which had now been magically transformed to look like a river.
"Who's there?" she called as a murky mist began to form across the bridge.
"Anastasia...your Imperial Highness," said Draco, emerging from the other side, looking remarkably like Snape...but more dead. "Look at what ten years have done to us. You, a beautiful young flower...and me. A rotting corpse."
"That face..." whispered Hermione.
"Last seen at a party like this one."
"The curse..."
"Followed by a tragic night on the ice...REMEMBER?!" roared Draco, the glass phalanx in his hand roaring to life with green magic, covering everything on the stage with a thin sheet of ice.
"Rasputin," spat Hermione.
"Rasputin," mocked Draco, in a feminine voice. "Destroyed! By your...despicable family. But, what goes around, comes around....and around...and around!"
The crowd watched in awe as the reliquary roared to life again and cracked the part of the bridge that Hermione was standing on. Harry smiled from the side of the stage as the crowd gasped at the chunk of stone and metal now hanging precariously above the frozen river.
"Say your prayers, Anastasia!" cackled Draco. "No one can save you now!"
"Wanna bet?" growled Harry, sprinting forward and tackling Draco. Not missing a beat, he ran over to the cracked portion of the bridge and reached for Hermione's hand.
"Dimitri?" she asked, struggling up to him.
"How enchanting," spat Draco, getting up. "Together again. FOR THE LAST TIME!"
The green magic swirling about gathered up and coiled around Harry, flinging him high against the stone horse Goyle had run into earlier.
"No!" cried Hermione, struggling to get back to safety as Harry fell onto the bridge, getting up slowly. Draco quickly ran over to her and grabbed her by the hair.
"Do svidanya, your highness," he grinned through decaying, yellow teeth, before releasing her off the edge.
"Anya!" yelled Harry as Hermione began to drop, but grabbed a chunk of stone and pulled herself back up.
"Finally, the last Romanov...DEAD!" cackled Draco, failing to see Hermione behind him. "Long live the Romanovs!"
"Yeah!" yelled Hermione. "I couldn't have said it better myself!"
With a great lunge, she tackled Draco, grabbing the glass reliquary from his hand and getting up.
"This is for my family!" she yelled, raising it high above her head.
"Give it back!" yelled Draco as she shattered it on the cobblestone of the bridge.
The stone statue exploded, a great chunk of it hitting Harry on the head. Draco's eyes widened in fear as a great ray of energy came hurtling down from above onto him. A great crash sounded throughout the theater and Draco was gone, his tattered clothes the only part of him left.
"Dimitri," said Hermione, running over to Harry, who was unconscious. "No..."
"Ugh..."
"Dimitri!" she exclaimed, embracing him, not caring that her dress was torn and covered in dirt.
"Ow, ow," he groaned, shrugging out of her grip. "I know...all men are babies."
"I thought you were going back to St. Pet -"
"I was."
"You didn't get on the tra -"
"I couldn't."
They stared at each other for a moment before Hermione looked at the crown that had fallen from her head. Harry followed her gaze and picked up the crown.
"They're waiting for you," he said, handing it to her.
The lights faded and Harry and Hermione quickly got off the stage as the set changed instantly before the lights came back, illuminating the left half of the stage with Ginny, looking sixty years older and grayer, holding the crown and a note in her hands. Luna was standing beside her, looking over her shoulder. They were in a room above the stage with a balcony overlooking the river below.
"Dear Grandmama," she read aloud. "Wish me luck. We'll be together in Paris again soon. Au beintot!"
"They've eloped!" exclaimed Luna with a high pitched squeal. "How romantic! It's a perfect ending."
"No," smiled Ginny. "It's a perfect beginning."
The lights faded from the left half of the stage and illuminated the right as Harry and Hermione walked hand in hand onto the deck of a boat on the river. As the orchestra continued playing the finale, they began to waltz to the music.
"Ready?" mouthed Harry silently.
Hermione smiled and stepped in close, kissing him passionately as the final strains of music came to an end, the curtain falling to tumultuous applause.
"That wasn't so bad, now was it?" smiled Harry, the applause still continuing on the other side of the curtain.
"Not at all," she grinned. "We have to go take our bows."
"Let's go do that," he smiled, following her off the side of the stage.
=====
"Everyone!" called Harry over the din of the party. "I have an announcement to make!"
Everyone in the room quieted down. The company had waited for the audience to vacate before changing the room into a grand hall to hold the after-party in.
"You were all bloody fantastic!" he yelled, and cheers went up, glasses of butterbeer and firewhiskey being raised.
"That was great," smiled Fred as he and George came over to Harry.
"Abso-bloody-lutely brilliant," grinned George.
"Thanks guys," smiled Harry. Spotting his favorite house elf a little ways away, he motioned to him discreetly. Dobby instantly appeared at his side holding a tray of treats.
"Would Master Wheezeys care to try the treats?" he asked politely, bowing.
"What are they?" asked Fred.
"Lucky charms treats," smiled Hermione.
"What are lucky charms?" asked George.
"It's a muggle cereal," she explained. "You melt down marshmallows and butter and stick the cereal together. I made them."
"They're delicious," grinned Harry.
"Oh why not," said Fred, grabbing one and shoving it into his mouth whole.
"They are quite good," nodded George, taking a bite as well.
The entire party quieted down for a moment as all heads turned to stare at them.
"What?" asked Fred, looking around. "Did we do something wrong?"
"No," grinned Ron, from next to Luna.
"What the hell is going...oh you didn't," said George, turning towards Harry.
"I didn't do what?" asked Harry innocently.
What he did or didn't do though, was never found out, because at that moment Fred and George each gave a loud pop and turned into two, short, green, leprechauns.
"I think we've been had," said Fred in a thick Irish accent, amidst a massive uproar of laughter from the company. Dobby was grinning bashfully, and even Malfoy was failing at trying to contain his glee.
"I say, I agree," nodded George as Hermione each handed them a small blue candy.
"It's the counter-jinx," she smiled. "Eat up."
They took the candies from her warily and ate them, returning to normal a moment later.
"That was brilliant!" roared Ron, tears of laughter running down his face.
"I suppose we've had it coming," admitted Fred, clapping Harry on the back. "Good on you, Harry."
"Ron and Hermione were in on it too," he smiled.
"And Dobby!" piped the elf.
"And Dobby," grinned Harry.
"Well done, either way," grinned George. "Would you like to sell that formula to us?"
"We'll talk about that some other time," laughed Harry. "Right now we're having a celebration!"
"Too right!" yelled Ron, raising his butterbeer. "To the company!"
"To the company!" echoed everyone assembled.
"You know," said Harry, pulling Hermione close to him. "We did good."
"We did," she smiled. "We make a good couple."
"On the stage or off?"
"Both," she grinned, leaning up to kiss him as the party continued on into the night.
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That's it for now!
For those of you who know the movie well, you'll notice I didn't script in Pooka. Couldn't figure out how to do it. Tried, couldn't. Sorry. A preview of next time for you instead!
Having met with tremendous success in their production of Anastasia, the company sets it's sights on something more
professional. But a guest director surprises everyone, and some problems arise.
Next time, on Hogwarts Drama Co.:
All the American Asks of You
Au Beintot!