A/N: Well, I was originally planning to give more detail on all of the rehearsals....but then I realized that if I do that, this is going to drag out forever, and I don't want to make it that long. Actually, I DID try writing a rehearsal scene...but for some reason, it didn't seme to fit right....by the way, this skips around a lot, time wise.

The rehearsals were tedious and time consuming, but they went by rather smoothly, and as the show began to take shape, most everyone felt that it was well worth the effort. Professor Lupin was unable to attend a few of the rehearsals, but not much was said about it....those who knew the reason for his absences kept their mouths shut.

Although Crabbe kept messing up his lines, Goyle was a surprisingly good actor. In fact, most of the Slyterins were better thespians than the Gryffindor's had given them credit for, which had some of them worried. They might have been more confidant if it weren't for the two Creevey boys....

"Colin, you're supposed to say 'Bless us all', not 'gesundheit!" Hermione cried, exasperated. Several of them had gotten together to rehearse outside the schedule, and this was the fifth time the sickly looking boy had botched his lines. Colin wailed.

"I'm sorry! I'm trying, really, I am!" he said, wringing his hands in a way that strongly reminded Harry of Dobby the House Elf.

"Why don't we all just go get a good night's sleep? We're two days away from opening night....there's no sense worrying about this right now when we're too tired to stand." Ron suggested. Within moments, the common room was deserted.


"Five minutes to showtime, people!" McGonagall barked in the corridor where people were standing by, waiting for their cues. She had taken over the role of assistant director...giving orders was one of her strong points.

The Great Hall was packed full of relatives and friends of those involved in the production. Every fifteen seconds, Ron was peeking through the crack under the doorway to the Hall, rattling on nervously about the number of people that had showed up. Hermione was pacing back and forth, white to the lips. "I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this..." she muttered. Draco happened to catch her words as he passed by and couldn't stop a smirk.

"Well, well, well......little miss Prefect Granger getting a little bit of stage fright, eh?" he said tauntinly. Hermione glared at him, the color returning to her face in a quick burst of flaming red.

"Go boil your head, Malfoy." she snapped, but he had already walked out of hearing range. The Gryffindors had begun to gather in a huddled group near the door, and she quickly joined them.

"....have to show those Slytherins up, eh gang?" Fred was saying. He and George were dressed in identical outfits; the only difference was that Fred had been covered from head to toe in talcum powder, giving him a ghostly appearance. A murmur of agreement was heard from the group.

"Just do your best, everyone." Hermione said, eyeing the Slytherins gathering a few feet away. "It's not whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game."

She thought she heard Draco mumble something about goody two shoes Muggles, but let it slid. She could always deal with him after the play.

"Shhh, quiet, Dumbledore's making his speech!" someone hissed, and all the students crowded around the door to hear. The teachers present stood towards the back, trying not to look all that interested in what was going on. Snape sidled up to McGonagall, wearing a confidant smirk.

"Ready to be beaten once again, Minerva?" he asked, his words sliding greasily. She didn't look at him, but murmured quietly in response,

"Remember which house won the Cup the past four years, Severus."

Before he had a chance to retaliate, someone near the doors said. "It's time! We're starting! Places, everyone!"


The play went along pretty well, with a few exceptions. Goyle was suddenly stricken with a bad case of stage fright, so he stood on the stage wordlessly while Crabbe faltered through both their lines. Colin Creevey finally got all his lines right, but his younger brother wasn't quite so lucky...Dennis didn't have any lines to miss, but he got caught with a sneezing fit in the middle of his one scene. He wasn't the only one; backstage, people were suppressing sneezes constantly because of Fred's talcum powder.

The only other noticable mishap was during Cho's farewell scene with Draco....he had, by all appearances, whispered something to make her angry, and instead of simply "releasing" him and exiting the stage, she punched him square in the jaw and stormed off. This shocked the crowd at first, but they soon roared with laughter....with the exception of the Malfoys, of course.


"So, Potter. Looks like we've won the bet." Draco said after the play was over. He spoke with some difficulty, owing to the fact that his face was still slightly swollen from Cho's punch.

"What!? You didn't win, we won!" Ron said, indignant. Draco smirked.

"Hoping your house will win, then feel sorry for your shabbiness and give you all the money?" he replied. Seething, Ron tried to attack the Slytherin, but was held back by Harry. It was a good thing, too; Ron might have gotten in the way of Hermione's fist as she landed Draco a punch in the nose.

As the surrounding boys stared at her in amazement, Hermione sniffed daintily and brushed off her hands. "Come on, everyone, we're going to be rather late for the cast party." she said, turning on her heel and walking away. With a shrug, Ron and Harry followed her back to the Gryffindor common room.


In the end, the bet had to be called off anyway because McGonagall found out about it and forbade any such dealings. Harry didn't really mind that much.....just hearing Draco trying to talk through a swollen nose for the next three days was more than enough reward.

~The End~