Julie had tried on and picked apart many outfits for tonight's 'date' and even as the Slytherin walked up to the stretch of wall she knew to house the Room of Requirement, she felt unsure of her white off the shoulder crop top, pink denim mini skirt and raf simmon trainers.

It was a very Julie look, complete with her favorite necklace of delicate stars and moons and the many threaded bracelets she wore day-to-day, a very Julie look that somehow still made her feel like she'd tried too hard for a date with a friend. The 14-year-old leaned with her back to the wall and her arms crossed together, she was a girl in wait of a hot date and, yeah, she was a little anxious.

Not that Julie had any reason to be- it was only Jessa, her friend and classmate of many a moon, so why was she bugging? Biting her lip, Julie let the question roll around in her head without answer.

It wasn't an experiment.

Jessa must have repeated this to herself half a million times while she brushed the final knots from her hair. A week of near complete neglect and it started to act up. Someone needed to find a way to fit more hours into a day, she could scarcely keep up with all the demands as it was, meaning something would always have to get neglected--like right now, all experiments were on hold, she was getting herself pretty decent for this non-experimental date and would likely find a botched potion in the morning.

But this was not an experiment. Strange, that's what the idea was. Jessa didn't dabble in this sort of thing unless there was some knowledge to be gained from it for her human interaction and relationship study. Granted, she'd likely still learn a lot, but she wouldn't be able to jot it all down as official findings later which was the real painful part. How did one remain passive to the knowledge around you? She would find out tonight.

Basket of sweet treats swinging lightly by her side, Jessa finally made her way over to her friend leaning by the wall.

"Hi." And a quick kiss on the cheek, because that was probably supposed to happen and she didn't have her notes on her anymore....'cause not an experiment. Perhaps she should have crammed everything last minute. Surely she'd have remembered even some bits. "Have you decided the kinda room we should get?"

Hands clasped together behind her back, Julie was doing her own mantra as she waited for her Ravenclaw friend. It had little to do with experiments and everything to do with the brunette's sudden bout of nerves, nerves similar to the kind she felt before a big pageant or before a flying lesson with Abey. It was just a date, not even a really serious one, but the fear of messing up- of making a mistake was very present.

Julie nibbled her lip. she was julie bellaire, granddaughter of Sophia. she could do anything she set her mind to and do it well. That included dates, even dates with friends. The sound of steps grabbed her attention, announcing the arrival of the very friend she was waiting on. "Hey-" She began, her voice cutting off as Jessa's lips brushed her cheek in a quick, and unexpected kiss. Julie could feel the heat rising - her face feeling much warmer - and knew a blush was forming. "-Jessa." she finished somewhat belatedly. "I was thinking.. Maybe a cafe?" Something simple, well lit and comfortable for them both. Julie had briefly considered something a little more extravagant or whimsical but neither had really appealed to the 14-year-old. "Unless you have something else in mind?" Julie added, momentarily eyeing the stretch of wall that was to be theirs for the evening.

Paul approached the Come-and-Go-Room cautiously, but not from fear, mostly because...he hoped no students were waiting here because he had to get things READY. He had arrived EXTRA early to setup inside the Room of Requirement. Three times he walked past where he knew the entrance was, repeating,

Grand theatre room, a stage, a single chair in front of it....

While also picturing the room in his head. The door appeared, easy enough, eh? And he went inside, smiling as he saw the room. Ahhh. This was...this was absolutely perfect. And so...he would sit. And he wait until it was the proper time. And then...

He would begin with whoever was first in line.

COME ONE. COME ALL. TO......


AUDITION.

This was SOOOOOO exciting!!!! Putting on a play of one of her favorite Bard stories was totally going to be one of the beeest non-creature things to happen at Hogwarts this term! Emmeline was stoked; she had even braved the library for hours looking for the perfect monologue to read from, mhm. Not that she had read the rest of the play she was actually reading from -- she just knew a summary and HER scene, which she had learned by heart. It had been a good distraction from...things, too. The second year bounced up and down on the balls of her feet as she waited impatiently outside of the no-longer-secret Come and Go Room for her turn to audition. It was kind of a miracle that she'd even figured out where on the seventh floor this room even was; she'd finally managed it by tagging along behind some of her older Housemates.

Every second seemed to drag on for YEARS until Professor Myers finally called her name. Thank Merlin, 'cause she really wanted to get this audition done before Christmas, you know? Also, she was kind of getting a weird feeling; she was used to butterflies treating her tummy as a vacation home any time she was nervous, but now her hands felt all cold and sweaty too. It was like how she'd felt waiting for her date outing with James on the Merlin's Pride. Still, the Gryffindor was able to put some of her usual bounce into her step and practically fly up to the stage.

Emmeline cleared her throat a little bit, and stared Professor Myers right in the face as she announced in a cheery tone: "Hiii, Professor Myers! I'd like to audition for the role of Amata, please. And I'm gonna do a monologue from the Muggle play called Anna Christie." Which hopefully he would notice was super appropriate and totally similar to Amata's character too, mhm. 'Cause they both had lost love and were feeling all terrible and desperate for a solution to their veeery sad love lives, mhm.

The twelve-year-old took a deeeeep breath, shook her head a little bit to clear it, and moved to the center of the stage where she assumed an angry expression. Like the angriest face she could make ever. Okay, now she could start!

"I s'pose if I tried to tell you I wasn't- that- no more you'd believe me, wouldn't you? Yes, you would!" She spoke the words in an angry, yet clearly hurt tone of voice as she walked a few steps closer to the audience. And and, she made super sure that the last three words were practically LOADED with obvious sarcasm.

"And if I told you that yust getting out in this barge, and being on the sea had changed me and made me feel different about things,'s if all I'd been through wasn't me and didn't count and was yust like it never happened- you'd laugh, wouldn't you?", she made her voice colder and yet sorrowful sounding as she said these words. She spread her arms out in front of her in a wide, sweeping gesture to indicate that she had changed. The bad stuff in her past wasn't her, and Emmeline made super sure to emphasize that point by letting pure determination show through on her face and in her voice as she took another step towards Anna's invisible boyfriend on the stage.

She PAUSED for dramatic emphasis here before continuing: "And you'd die laughing sure if I said that meeting you that funny way that night in the fog, and afterwards seeing that you was straight goods stuck on me, had got me to thinking for the first time, and I sized you up as a different kind of man- a sea man as different from the ones on land as water is from mud- and that was why I got stuck on you, too. I wanted to marry you and fool you, but I couldn't. Don't you see how I'd changed?" The mixture of hurt and anger made her voice stronger as she tried to portray what Anna had felt , but it was HARD to act out 'cause this whooole monologue was just Anna talking to her boyfriend, mhm. Still, Emmeline infused the first bit -- the bit where Anna was saying that she saw her boyfriend as a different kind of man -- with some hope in her tone. She arranged her features like she was talking about someone surprising and wonderful and so unexpected that she could hardly STAND it. And then when she got to Anna's confession about wanting to marry him, Emmeline strained her face like what she was saying HURT. She put a hand over her heart to drive the point home that Anna had wanted to marry him, to love him. BUT...

" I couldn't marry you with you believing a lie- and I was shamed to tell you the truth- till the both of you forced my hand, and I seen you was the same as all the rest.", she said the first words (until "truth") in a quieter tone, almost like the tone of voice she used when she realllly, desperately wanted someone to believe her and she was embarrassed allll at the same time. And then on the bit where the men had forced Anna's hand, Emmeline slowly raised her voice until she was loud but not yelling. She took a couple of steps back from where Anna's boyfriend would stand, pulling her face into a frown and trying to convey hurt and disappointment and anger. So much anger.

Now for the veeeery last bit: "And now, give me a bawling out and beat it, like I can tell you're going to. Will you believe it if I tell you that loving you has made me- clean? It's the straight goods, honest! Like hell you will! You're like all the rest!" The first sentence was uttered with complete DEVASTATION and LOSS in her voice, and a couple of tears sliding down her face. Anna's question also wreaked of devastation and a longing for the boyfriend to just believe her, which Emmeline tried to show by again stepping back with a totally crushed look on her face and her hand making a fist over her heart.

The last two sentences, though, were different. Emmeline STOMPED forward a few steps with her forehead wrinkled in anger and her eyes flashing as she said those words. The words that showed the depth of Anna's hurt and anger and loss. Just like Amata. Sometimes just like Emmeline herself.

That was why she wanted this part sooo much -- this one or Altheda's. She could relate to these witches, even though they were way grown up and stuff. Emmeline stayed in character after the end of her last lines, evident by her angry stance and the fist over her heart, showing a DRAMATIC pause. And then she let her face relax into a smile and aimed it in Professor Myers's direction. That had been okay, right? "Thanks, sir!! Byeee!", she chirped as she jumped off the stage and scurried out of the room.

So this was IT. Although Derf wasn't entirely sure what IT meant and, if he was being honest, he did not particularly have high hopes nor his sights set on anything too grand. For once. It had merely become a trend at Hogwarts that he would forever be "too young" for this and that - yes, there was some lingering Hufflepuff angst in the air over the whole IMPS stuff and other things - so when it came to picking a role to audition for, well, the third year simply assumed priority would go to older students.

Worm. He was perfectly satisfied with being a worm. He could do a mean wiggle worm dance, you know?

Waiting apprehensively, fingers knotting and smoothing out his trouser pants, the Hufflepuff SHOT to his feet when it was his turn and something in him just sorta...flipped and then he was in the ZONE.

"PROFESSOR MYERS!" he pleaded with a DESPERATION like he really needed to use the loo. Which, well, maybe he did a little. Nervous energy and all. He was even half running over to the man and would have reached out and shaken the man's shoulders but...er...he settled for fidgeting with his fingers a moment and then ruffling his hair like a cruppy full of flea."I need detention......... I REALLY need detention." He paused, hands still ruffling his hair like he was scrubbing it with too much shampoo in the shower. "See, there's this girl..." That felt kinda BEYOND embarassing to say and he felt some heat move to his cheeks, causing him to rub both of them with his palms before his hands went to his sides. He had no idea what this Harmony looked like, but in his head she was brunette and wore Slytherin robes. "I know, I know, it always starts with a girl ..." Oh a boy...because for a moment Derf's thoughts wandered to Abey and what they had discussed on the train. "But this bo---ER---girl is special... " Had he just botched his audition with that slip up? It was all in the recovery, right? Right. "I mean it THIDS time... Really special. Her name is Harmony... But she goes by Harm. Cute huh? She can harm me any time she wants. And she has too. A couple of times," he continued, eyes lighting up as he spoke and held up his hand to indicate five as the number of times. Only he paused...and timidly lifted the index finger on his other hand for six. "But I deserved it... Cause I touched her once." His hands waved dramatically in front of his face. "I didn't touch her anywhere BAD. Just on the shoulder," he added hurriedly, patting his own shoulder to illustrated just HOW. Like patting the head of an adorable kneazle. "AND she broke my finger. So I guess we kind of have held hands," he nodded sheepishly while looking at one of his fingers, examining it really, as he continued speaking. "I was juuuuuuuuust gonna ask to borrow a pencil. One of those ones she sharpens and then throws in the ceiling all over school." He paused to glance back at his Head of House, you know, to make sure the man was still listening to his plight. "She even got one in the gym ceiling. You know how HIGH that is? Like...like 5000 feet!" Yes, there were arm gestures accompanying this how high talk and he even stood up on his tip toes for emphasis. "And I just stand under those pencils, hoping one will fall down and I can have one of them for my very own. Something to remember her by," he sighed all big and with his shoulders slouching from the weight of that sigh, thoughts drifting to those times he would just WISH Valerie Gray would have noticed him last term but she never did. Save for when she shouted at him at Merlin's Pride. Bright blue eyes looking up longingly at the ceiling for a bit longer, his head suddenly snapped back to look at the professor. "UNTIL.... I get in to detention."

NOW he opted to take a few more steps towards the Herbology professor, each one heavy with NEED and burdened with helplessness. So basically...his feet were dragging...which was fitting because he was often so reluctant to ask this particular professor for much. Which, you know, only added to the urgency of his words within the monologue.

"I gotta figure out some way to get detention because I wanna see her more... Be with her more... And turn Harm into Harmony again..." he pleaded softly with a deep SIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGH of a love struck school boy, eyes looking downcast at that "broken" finger again and tracing over the knuckle with his other hand. "Cause.... I see that beautiful harmony under all that black and gloom. She just needs a reason to smile and....." There was a particularly pregnant pause here as Derf slooooowly lifted his bright blues to look at Professor Myers. And lip chewing, LOADS of lower lip chewing. The third year's own thoughts were muddled and during practice he had been thinking one thing but now there was another. Well, not in place of the other but more blended and...confused. But it did not take away from the sincere sentiment either way and he spoke defiantly with an honesty from the depths of his little Hufflepuff heart. "....I want to be that reason."

He remained silent for several counts - like...five or so - while that thought hung in the air and he stared the man down with his best serious face.

But it didn't last too long as Derf relaxed and he shoved his hands in his pockets. You know. No big deal. Just plotting here. "So I have to get detention. What's something good... I mean I want it to be really really good so I get thrown in there a long time... Plus I have to make it worth it... Something great that she can respect..." he trailed off, eyes looking up at the ceiling again looking for one of those pencils. His eyes even seem to find one as it fell to the ground and roooooolled all the way over to Professor Myer's feet. It was supposed to represent his Lumos moment. "How about..... giving the Headmistress a wedgie?" he chirped eagerly, skillfully changing up the words to make them more relevant for the setting and stuff. Something he maybe should have thought up earlier when he mentioned a gym but eh, oh well. "THAT would do it... a good old up the back over the head mega wedgie. Let's do this!"

He ended the scene holding out his hand towards Professor Myers for a shake, you know, since the whole setting had been for the man to help him and now it was expected that the man shake his hand in agreement and stuff.

But soon enough, Derf broke scene and pulled a crumbled piece of parchment from his pocket. Just a little something he had learned from the one and only Rooney Bronwyn. Yes. A signed head shot with his name, year, and house on the back. Along with a little scribble of top three roles of Sir Luckless's horse, worm, and rock because, you know, only a third year and stuff.

"Thanks, professor," he grinned upon slipping that piece of paper to the man and then bounded out of the room.

The first person to show up was Emmeline Sparkes...which, after the other night, he was surprised she still wanted to try out for his play. But, you know, he....he was glad to see her. He gave her a smile as he called her in and watched her little scene with rapt attention.

She was BRILLIANT! Paul made little notes in his notepad, like Very vivacious - good at expressions and hand motions; LOUD - can vocalize well without needing voice magnification - good ; and more. Overall, he was pretty impressed. He jotted down his initial character thoughts for her and smiled as he waved her off.

Nice.

Next was Derf. Interesting that he was there right after Emmeline. He expected to see...interesting things from the boy, whether great or horrible. Derf really delivered, though, and he was quite impressed, too. Hmm...interesting scene. Which, he had to admit, at first he was confused. Had Derf not known this was an audition? - but then he realized this was all an act, and Derf being in character before he even started the audition was impressive. And cool. Paul had to chuckled a few times, and raised his eyebrow when he got to the part about a girl because....because. HMMMMM.

"Very good, thank you, Derfael! You should be proud!" But that was all he said before waving the boy out, and going to call the next name.

Maddie was not meant to stay still. She was just not meant to sit and wait her turn without making any sounds at all or getting up and moving around. Somehow she was managing to just that, though. She wasn't sure if it was because she was a bundle or nerves or if it was because there was constant entertainment before her. It was probably a mixture of both, though. She was guessing that her name was on the bottom--the very bottom--of the auditions sheet. It seemed like everybody was being called before her, but just as she thought that, she heard her name!

Maddie paused and considered getting up and sneaking out. She wanted to change her mind! No, she didn't. Yes, she did. No, she didn't. Yes, she did. NO. SHE. DIDN'T. She didn't! She really didn't! Maddie bounced out of her seat and headed for the stage, trying her hardest not to fall flat on her face in front of everybody. She made it to center stage without any problems, though, and when she got there, she decided to launch right into her monologue.

Nothing like diving straight into character right off the bat.

"A C?" she asked, looking right at the professor with this bewildered look in her eyes. "I got a C on my coat hanger sculpture? How could anyone get a 'C' on a coat hanger sculpture?" She dashed right over to the left side of the stage and looked one of the other students right in the eye. "May I ask you a question?" The tone of her voice took on the tone of something who was frustrated and looking for answers about something she knew she was right about. "Was I judged on the piece of sculpture itself? If so, is it not true that time alone can judge a work of art? Or was I judged on my talent? If so, is it fair that I be judged on a part of my life over which I have no control?"

Then she shifted directions and marched right over to the opposite side of the stage and gave a long, deep, hard stare to a second student. "If I was judged on my effort, then I was judged unfairly, for I tried as hard as I could!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. Then it was time to look right at Professor Myers again, for he truly was her teacher, and this next line would be most appropriate to rehearse on him. "Was I judged on what I had learned about this project? If so, then were not you, my teacher, also being judged on your ability to transmit your knowledge to me?" she asked him.

"Are you willing to share my C?" she continued. "Perhaps I was being judged on the quality of the coat hanger itself, out of which my creation was made...now is this not also unfair? Am I to be judged by the quality of coat hangers that are used by the dry-cleaning establishment that returns our garments?"

"Is that not the responsibility of my parents? Should they not share my 'C'?" she finished.

...

She paused for dramatic effect, and then she smiled and waved toward Professor Myers. "Thank you," she said, and then she skipped off the stage.




-----
CREDITS:

Broadway Show: "You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown"
Character: Sally
Whole Monologue:

A 'C'? A 'C'? I got a 'C' on my coat hanger sculpture? How could anyone get a 'C' in coat hanger sculpture? May I ask a question? Was I judged on the piece of sculpture itself? If so, is it not true that time alone can judge a work of art? Or was I judged on my talent? If so, is it fair that I be judged on a part of my life over which I have no control? If I was judged on my effort, then I was judged unfairly, for I tried as hard as I could! Was I judged on what I had learned about this project? If so, then were not you, my teacher, also being judged on your ability to transmit your knowledge to me? Are you willing to share my 'C'? Perhaps I was being judged on the quality of the coat hanger itself, out of which my creation was made...now is this not also unfair? Am I to be judged by the quality of coat hangers that are used by the dry-cleaning establishment that returns our garments? Is that not the responsibility of my parents? Should they not share my 'C'?

Kyle poked his head in at first, nervous, unsure about the piece he was doing. It was his favorite monologue, but it was short, and he had to change the wording due to language. But he loved it.

He finally made his way into the room and on stage, then took a deep breath. He closed his eyes a moment to picture himself in the place of the character, and when he opened them again his eyes were full of pain and anguish.

He paced the stage a few times then stopped, looking up at the 'sky.'

"You are cruel and manipulative. Is this all part of Your plan?" he asked, arms stretched out to either side, indicating everything around him. Then he pointed up, shaking his finger. "It's all just a game to You, isn't it? Eh? Well, I know punishment, and he did not deserve that." He pointed off stage now, and started talking angrily. "He followed Your stupid rules, and it still wasn't good enough!" Then, with fists clenched at his sides, head down, he continued: "So what does it take to please You? Break Your rules and you fall, follow them and you still lose!" He looked back up to the 'sky,' still angry. "Doesn't matter whether you're a sinner. Doesn't matter whether you're a saint. Nobody can win so what's the point?" Then, sounding weak and defeated he added, "What's the bloody point?"

He closed his eyes and lowered his head, waiting a moment, before looking up with a bright smile again. He bowed deeply, the way his father had taught him. "Thank you!" And with that he scampered off the stage.

Flynn could not even come up with an answer as to why he found himself sitting in this chair, watching the auditions, while he waited his turn. Yes, he was going to audition for this play. He was not even certain whether he had talent on stage or not. He never once gave theatre a single thought in his entire life; however, for some bloody reason, the posters Professor Myers put up caught his attention.

The real reason he was here: he was trying to figure out what to do with his life after graduation and theatre somehow made it on the list right under Pro Gobstone player.

He considered leaving after every performance, especially once he started getting nervous. Ttap tap tap was the noise his fingers were making as he drummed them along the arm of his chair. WHY WAS HE DOING THIS? Tap tap tap. He did get a good laugh or two watching the younger students. Were their performances even suppose to be funny? Nonetheless, it had him laughing.

Realizing that this was not for him, especially after Maddie's performance, he casually stood up and was about to make his way out of the room until....

Was his name called? Yes, he was sure Professor Myers called out his name.

He stood there, frozen to the ground, as he considered whether he should continue to walk out or head to the stage. He did not want to look like a quitter; that was the LAST THING he wanted to look like. Huffing a little, he made his way to the stage and stood at the far left side of the stage, his back facing the audience, in silence. He was giving himself a moment or two of quiet before he began:

He started his audition acting as if he just got hit my a spell, stumbling some and holding his chest, shock on his face. He turned around to face Professor Myers with hurt and disappointment showing on his face.

"I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory," he started, his voice calm. "Is this where it gets me, on my feet, several feet ahead of me?" He started moving to the other side of the stage and continued, "I see it coming! Do I run or fire my wand or let it be? There is no beat, no melody." He pointed his finger towards an empty area, where he imagined someone standing there, and said, "Burr, my first friend, my enemy. Maybe the last face I ever see. If I throw away my shot, is this how you’ll remember me? What if this spell is my legacy?"

He stopped and looked at the audience in pure silence.

"Legacy," he said in a pondering tone. "What is a legacy?" He paced to the other side of the stage, his arms linked behind his back. "It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see. I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me."

"AMERICA!" He shouted, his voice echoing throughout the room. "You great unfinished symphony, you sent for me. You let me make a difference, a place where even orphan immigrants can leave their fingerprints and RISE UP!" He was attempting to pour his heart into this monologue because he knew this was the moment Hamilton was dying. Honestly, this was also the only play he really knew much about, which is why he chose it.

"I’m running out of time." He paced a little faster. "I’m running, and my time’s up." He stopped. "Wise up. Eyes up." He looked straight up as if to be looking at the clouds. "I catch a glimpse of the other side. Laurens leads a soldiers’ chorus on the other side. My son is on the other side." He spoke with sadness leaking from his voice, and he even managed to make his voice crack as if he was about to start crying. "He’s with my mother on the other side. Washington is watching from the other side. Teach me how to say goodbye..."

He raised his hand up towards the ceiling, his eyes still fixated on the imaginary clouds. "Rise up, rise up, rise up. Eliza." He looked back out towards someone in the auditorium, pretending that they were Eliza. Who else was he suppose to use, hmm?

"My love, take your time. I’ll see you on the other side. Raise a glass to freedom..." With that, he fell to the ground.

He waited a few seconds before standing up. "Thank you," he addressed Professor Myers before exiting the stage.

Maybe he was made for showbiz after all.

OOC: I changed a few words to make it SS friendly!

To be completely honest, Jessa wanted to remain behind the stage fixing sets, helping with the lighting, giving cues, aiding rehearsals and keeping out of the spotlight as much as possible. The stage wasn't exactly her home and she was no Rooney Bronwyn.

That being said, there was a spot for 'Narrator'. Chances were, the Narrator would stay out of sight the entire time and even if it didn't, she bet it wouldn't require nearly as many dramatics and theatrics as playing an actual character, so that was what she was here for. The Narrator. It was the role that provided information to the general public and as luck would have it, she LOVED passing on random tidbits of information to others. Clearly she was born for the role. All she had to do was convince Professor Meyers of the same. How hard could it be?

Stepping cautiously into the audition room, Jessa spotted the Herbology Professor almost immediately. Having been busy trying to get ready for her own part, she hadn't bothered to look in on the others. This was probably for the best, no need to psych herself out ahead of time.

With only the faintest bit of hesitation (brought on by uncertainty), the Ravenclaw took to the stage. For the briefest moment, her mind flooded with the fear she may suddenly forget the lines she spent the better part of the morning rehearsing but she took several breaths, willing the fear away.

Ahem.

Jessa moved to centre stage, turning to face the Professor full on. "I ate them." She began firmly. It was important to start strong, but even with this strength of tone, the young girl kept her tone light...nonchalant even. "That’s right. I ate the divorce papers, Charles. I ate them with ketchup. And they were good...goooood." Her voice dragged the second time, emphasis just where it needed to be. "You probably want me to get serious about our divorce. The thing is you always called our marriage a joke. So let’s use logic here." At this, she turned and paced a few steps in both directions while she put up first one finger then another in similar fashion to someone stating a point. "If A. we never had a serious marriage then B. we can’t have a serious divorce. No. We can’t. The whole thing’s a farce, Charles – a farce that tastes good with ketchup."

Jessa turned to face the Professor again, as if ready to ask him a question. "I mean, wasn’t it last week, your dad asked you the reason you walked down that aisle with me, and you said “for the exercise.” Ha, ha. That’s funny." She paused for an obviously faked laugh. "You’re a funny guy, Charles. I’m laughing, not a crying. Ha, ha. I’m laughing because you’re about to give up on a woman who is infinitely lovable."

There was the briefest of pauses as her mind tried to pull the next line back to memory. The sudden rush of trying to get her lines out correctly had left her brain somewhat frazzled but she made the pause work for her before diving right back in. "For instance: Paul. He has loved me since the eighth grade. Sure, he’s a little creepy, but he reeeeally loves me." She shifted her weight onto her right leg, folding her arms at waist, using the fingers on one hand to continue making gestures as if she was stating facts. "He’s made one hundred twenty seven passes at me, proposed forty seven times, and sent me over two hundred original love sonnets. He sees something in me, Charles. And he writes it down, in metered verse!"

She ended just as strong as when she'd begun, her tone skirting the line of indignation even while it set it's roots in frustration. Jessa stood there for a few seconds in silence, maintaining her stance and her facial expression before breaking into a wide grin and taking a bow.

The rush of adrenaline that still coursed through her was slowing down but until it was fully gone, she would have to contend with a heart that insisted on beating too quickly.

Bow taken, she straightened and headed from the stage but not before reminding the Professor again that she'd have really liked to be Narrator. It was probably all in his notes but she had to be sure, OKAY????

OOC: Taken from the play, "Goodbye Charles"

Oh Merlin.. Why was she doing this? Why had she thought that this was a good idea? Olivia Holden auditioning for a dramatic performance? She had thought she would never hear those words in a sentence ever in her life. She wasn't.... It wasn't her style. She had always preferred the behind the scenes work in theatre but here she was. But Shakespeare was a love of hers so naturally she went for a classic Shakespearean monologue. One that she knew well from a play that she adored.

And her name had be called. Vi took a step forward in the Room of Requirement, nodding to Professor Myers. "I will..." her voice wavered in that instance and she could feel her heart racing. She took another deep breath. "I will be performing a monologue from Twelfth Night." Okay. Her knees were totally shaking now. Could he see them? Could everyone see that? Oh dear Merlin. This was going to be awful. Her heart raced. This was such a bad idea? Why had she ever thought that this was a good idea.

She took a deep breath and then paused, allowing the silence to fill the room. Relaxing her shoulders and removed a ring from her finger. Then she turned her gaze upon Professor Myers before gave him a confused glance. "I left no ring with her. What means this lady?” asked she, glancing around the room before pausing and clutching her right hand to her chest as her eyes widened in pure shock at the thought that had just crossed my mind. Oh no, had her master’s love fallen in love with her? Preposterous. Viola spoke the next line very slowly. "Fortune forbid my outside have not charmed her." She paused once more, considering this option, before shaking her head and walking a few steps away. Impossible. Entirely impossible for her... She huffed.

Then she turned back to face the Herbology Professor and groaned in realization. Oh yes, perhaps it was true. She thought through their most recent interactions. "She made good view of me; indeed, so much that, as methought, her eyes had lost her tongue, for she did speak in starts.....distractedly." Her blue eyes widened more and she smiled excitedly at the idea that someone loved her so. "She loves me sure;" But that smile.... That excitement soon faded. "The cunning of her passion invites me in THIS” With a hand, she motioned to the right hand side of her as if she was motioning to an invisible person. “churlish messenger." She glanced at the ring in her hand and raised it up for all the audience to see. "None of my lord’s ring?" Then she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Why, he sent her none."

Vi then took a few steps towards the audition table with eyes widened with realization. Then she pointed to herself. “I am the man. If it be so, as ’tis…” She shook her head and spoke slowly once more with such sorrow in her voice. Olivia sighed. “Poor lady, she were better love a dream.” She glanced down at herself and then turned back to glance at the Professor. “Disguise, I see thou art a wickedness wherein the pregnant enemy does not much.” Pause. A question now. "How easy is it for the proper false in women’s waxen hearts to set their forms!" She shook her head and sighed, glancing at herself. "Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we, for such as we are made of, such we be. How will this fadge?" she asked desperately, glancing around as she tried to figure out how she would ever get out of this situation. She couldn't think it through clearly. So then she spoke slowly as if she was thinking through the situation. "My master loves her dearly; And I, poor monster, fond as much on him; and she mistaken seems to dote… on… me. What will become of this?" she cried. "As I am a man, my state is desperate for my master’s love." Silence fell and she let it drag before speaking once again- more softly this time. "As I am a woman - now alas the day," she sighed. Pausing, Vi turned to glance directly at Professor Myers. "What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe?"

Then she let silence hover in the air once more as she held up the ring, her master's ring, before she groaned. "Oooooo Time, thou must untangle this, not I." She tossed the ring up into the air and caught it. Thank Merlin, she had actually caught it this time and it hadn't gone like the other times she had practiced in her dormitory earlier this morning. She shook her head and chuckled. "It is too hard a knot more me to untie."

And with that, Olivia bowed, thanked the Professor, and exited stage left.

A side from from having to witness the whole blood painted thunderbird as she was reading the poster for the auditions she had being so excited about it. Getting to pick her monologue and practice it was so much fun.

Maybe she had found her true calling… acting… or maybe even writing.

Though choosing a monologue was half the fun. Once she had finally narrowed her choices down to two, yes she had a lot of monologue choices and most of them were from Shakespeare. She decided to translate it into a modern dialog. Just for the fun of it.

The Ravenclaw headed into the room of requirement, which had take form of an auditorium. She took a seat and waited for her turn to head up on stage. Clearing her throat as she moved to the center of the stage. ”I’m going to be performing a monologue from Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare.” She took a step back, looked down at the floor of the stage, and took deep breath.

”The more I suffer, the more spiteful he becomes. Did he marry me just to starve me?” She moved across the act as if she was talking to her dorm mates. Then she turned to professor and looked at the audience. Well did he?

”Beggars at my father’s door are given money as soon as they ask for it. And if they don’t find charity there, they find it someplace else.” She made an angry face, and flared her a arm around indicting some place else. She paused yeah people let that sink it. ”But I, who have never known how to beg and never had to beg, am starved for food, giddy with lack of sleep, kept awake with curses and fed with brawling.” She placed her hand on chest at the word I and shook her head as she said never. Then she put her hands on her stomach because she was so starved. Also she hopped showing she was giddy and yawned being silly with lack of sleep.


”And what irks me more than all these things is he does it in the name of true love,” She holds her hands up and does the quotation marks with her fingers at true love, Whatever that was. ”As though for me to eat or sleep would bring on fatal illness or sudden death.”

Faking fainting on the floor, quickly she set up and finished her last line. ”Please, go and get me something to eat. I don’t care what so long as it’s nutritious.” Begigng because she was hungry. She just wanted food… Now. She paused, looked down. End scene. She stood up and took her bow.

”Thank you, Professor Myers.” She smiled at the herbology professor and made her way off of the stage.

Thank goodness that was over, it so nerve wrecking. But Also soooo fun!

He was slightly nervous waiting for his turn to try out, because who wouldn't be? Theatre could be a very nerve-racking endeavor.

From what he could hear through the door, most people had gone with Shakespeare monologues. Not that he blamed them. The bard was a perfectly fine piece to try with. But this was going to make his audition stand out more. For good or bad, he'd just have to see.

Once his name was called, Ronan entered stage left and stopped centerstage with a smile. "Ronan Carter, trying out for Sir Luckless." After taking a few deep breaths to keep the nerves at bay, he let his expression fall into a kind of sad but contemplative look, his eyes straight forward as if he were addressing someone right in front of him, an urgent tone in his voice. "Clock strikes the hour and the sun begins to fade." He moved his right hand to his left arm and started picking at imaginary lint on his sleeve, casting his eyes downward. "Still enough time to figure out how to chase my blues away." His eyes looked straight forward again, an earnestness in them now, as if he was trying to convince himself of his words as much as the person he was talking to. He had a slight, sarcastic smirk too. "I've done alright up 'till now, the light of day shows me how." He dropped the slight smirk. "But when the night falls...," A quick pause for effect before he started again, now with his eyes watering slightly. ....my loneliness calls." He spoke now with more earnestness in his tone, some longing, maybe even some hope. "Oh, I wanna dance with somebody. I wanna feel the heat with somebody. Oh, I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me."

Another pause, and his face and tone went to wistful remembrance. "I've been in love and lost my senses, spinning through the town." His face and tone went back to contemplative and sad. Contemplative sadness. "Sooner or later, the fever ends and I wind up feeling down." He added a sense of urgent longing to his contemplative sadness. "I need a man who'll take a chance on a love that burns hot enough to last. So when the night falls, my lonely heart calls.

Oh, I wanna dance with somebody. I wanna feel the heat with somebody. Oh, I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me." His entire demeanor changed all of a sudden to a hopeful, questioning one. "Don'tcha wanna dance with me baby? Dontcha wanna dance with me boy? Hey, don'tcha wanna dance with me baby?"

His audition piece done, Ronan took another deep breath before giving Professor Myers a smile, a "Thank you." and exited stage right.

OOC: That, of course, was from I Wanna Dance With Somebody as sung by Whitney Houston and written by Shannon Rubicam and George Robert Merrill.

Zoryn had been waiting for this moment for her ENTIRE life, or well, her ENTIRE Hogwarts career (okay, okay so only the past 3ish years but STILL). She was SO excited that she was practically bouncing out of her shoes. Unfortunately, there was a long line of auditioners and her turn hadn't exactly come up yet. So of course she watched each student walk up and preform their monologue, feeling all the better about her own with each passing performer. She had this IN THE BAG!

When it was FINALLY her turn, Zoryn walked up to the center of the stage, gave everyone a GIANT wave and HUGE grin before suddenly throwing her head down so that her eyes were on her feet. Ahem. It's time.

Lifting her gaze back up towards Myers, she began... "I farted in Yoga class," she sounded only mildly embarrassed to admit it, but there was also a hint of pride behind her voice. "It was LOUD and....I didn't die. Well, okay, my heart started pounding," she nodded. "But it didn't exactly explode. I thought I'd be devastated, but I wasn't." She was pacing around the stage at this point as if she were actually telling the story to Professor M. "Instead," here she stopped pacing. "Something unexpected happened.... I laughed?"

HAHAHAHA. Best monologue choice EVER.

"At first a little giggle and then a FULL BLOWN BELLY LAUGH, like this," clutching onto her stomach the Gryffindor gave a demonstration, "PAHAHAHAA! In fact, I laughed SO hard that I farted again. And again. And AGAIN. Super embarrassing, no? No." So she may have been changing some of the words slightly and the laugh was definitely improvised, but hey! Isn't that a sign of GREAT acting? Zoryn seemed to think so.

"So, I could feel people staring, but I didn't care. Look, I thought I would care, but I felt a lightness, wonder, awe! Who knew I had so much air inside me!?! My body deflated, but my spirit INFLATED!" Zoryn just hoped she was making Justine Janvier proud tbh. "I realized, this was why I'd come to yoga in the first place!" SHE GRINNED. "No, no. Not to fart publicly!" she threw a dismissive hand in the air. "But to fart publicly and SURVIVE it. I know, it's unladylike. But here I was staring fear in the face and realizing... It was just a bunch of hot air!"

Zoryn felt so ALIVE.

"I breathed in deep, SO DEEP, another loud exclamation of my new found freedom erupted from my behind," This was her favorite part. "'Excuse me'," the third year used a very shrill voice here. "The woman behind me said. 'But could you step outside for a moment. SOME of us are trying to practice yoga' this should've DESTROYED ME. But I felt my calm breath and heard myself say: 'Excuse me but I'm practicing my fartnassanas thank you very much," she waited for some laughter from her audience here before continuing forward.

"Then something AMAZING happened. A little noise erupted from another corner of the room. A few others giggled, then laughed, and then more noises erupted. And it was BEAUTIFUL. A symphony of fartnassanas. I was free, they were FREE!"

AND SCENE.

The Gryffindor ended the scene with her hands in the air as a demonstration of the FART FREEDOM! After a few seconds passed, she lowered her arms and BOWED sending regal waves and kisses to all of her fans seated in the audience (aka Myers). Once again she made sure to let him know how she wanted ALL the lead roles. And then with that, the Gryffindor made her way off the stage for the next person in line.

Nailed it.

ooc: From the play Yoga Fart, some parts taken out for length

When asked how to describe his only daughter, Colin Harrington-Kelly had come up with one word: dramatic amongst others, but that’s besides the point. So was it any wonder that Felicity was hovering outside the Room of Requirement waiting to audition for the school play? At least, she couldn’t help but think to herself, it wasn’t a musical. Musicals were absolutely no fun if you couldn’t sing well, and obviously this girls prowess was relegated to the shower. And what were the roles that non-singers took in musicals? Trees.

TREES.

If there was one thing Felicity wasn’t, it was ready to be a tree. Waiting outside of the room and watching other students come and go, she found herself absorbed in the monologue she’d prepared, reciting the lines over and over in her head in between taking deep breaths. So focused was she that she completely missed Flynn going in and coming back out, and missing the goings on with that boy was not something she usually did. It was, however, probably for the best: Felicity would have felt nothing but confusion at the idea of him auditioning, and over-analysis of her… friends actions would have been totally distracting.

As her name was called, the Slytherin swallowed hard and timidly pushed the door open, offering Professor Myers a rather nervous smile that said she was totally ready to be on stage. Not. Her hands shook as she clutched the paper in her hand and climbed onto the stage, and no deep breaths were helping her calm down right then.

Why did it have to be so blood difficult? To perform in front of one person? What was she going to be like in front of the rest of the school?! "I’m…. Hi, Professor! I’m… Well, I’m auditioning for any role, really," the American said, honestly. "And I’m going to do Juliet’s monologue from Romeo and Juliet."

Because that’s what British people did when they auditioned for plays and stuff, right? Read The Baron – or whatever his nickname might’ve been. And she could be British, although the accent she could do reflected the people she lived near in Mayfair. "The clock struck nine when I… uh, I did send the nurse," Felicity started, her voice quiet, falling on the side of nervousness, rather than the excitement that Juliet was supposed to feel. "In half an hour she promised to…. Come back.." Maybe that was because, honestly, she had no clue what on Merlin’s good Earth she was actually talking about.

Suddenly, any small hint of character was gone, and Felicity dropped the paper from her hands. "I’m sorry! Can I…. Can I start again, Professor? Can I…." This time, she swallowed, biting her lip slightly to stop the embarrassed tears from falling: this time, she was going to do something she knew, not ancient words she didn’t understand.

"Okay, people!" Her voice was commanding, firm, and she looked Professor Myers directly in the eye as she spoke, her hands finding their place on her hips. She could do unimpressed. The English accent stayed strong as she continued. "I wished upon a star, so I guess it does make a different who I are!" Cue the eyeroll. "Do I have to be some poor nobody? Do I need some kind of… Of kryptonite, like a little pea?!" Her hands came up at this, in exasperation. "Did my prince get turned into a frog and is now hiding in some creepy bog –" Face pulling. "- waiting for me to find him?" She shook her head and let out a long, annoyed breath. "I don’t even know how to swim.

"What’s the use of dreaming anymore? No one is beating down my door. I need to be some damsel in distress to get some attention, I guess." Her tone indicated that the idea of being a damsel in distress was insulting. "Where’s my Prince Charming? Is there something about me that’s alarming? All I get is Prince Pampered –" she continued sarcastically, starting to walk across the front of the stage. "- who spends his whole like hampered by being royally stuck up. Or there’s Prince Never Grow Up, who is way too pretty in his curls. UGH! All these boys make me want to hurl!"

She finished by returning to the centre of the stage, hands gripping the sides of her head in infuriation, where she paused for a moment before letting her hands fall and the pink flush creep up the sides of her cheeks. "Thanks, Sir." Contrary to the way she’d performed, her voice now was quiet, and she hurried past the Herbology Professor and out of the room before he could say anything.

OOC: The second monologue is the first half of "Where's My Prince Charming?" from The Ghosts of Detention by D. M. Larson.

Philippa was prepared. She was born prepared. Born ready. Born to be a star! She'd obviously done auditions before, for much bigger productions than a small Hogwarts play. She was once in a movie! When she was nine. She had four lines and a scene where she needed to cry. It had been the best few days of her life and the director had told her she would be the biggest, brightest actress ever.

Clutching her little booklet with her act in it, Philippa glanced over the words she obviously already knew off by heart. She was born for this remember? She was READY. To pass the time she took out a little mirror from her robe pocket, busying herself with making sure every single hair was in place, and checking that the teeeeeeny bit of lipstick she'd put on was still there. She wasn't allowed make up unless it was for work or auditions, and this was an audition even if it wasn't a proper production company so it was still totally allowed. Plus no one would tell Dad here.

Hearing her name at long last, the brunette beamed and entered the room with all the confidence in the entire universe. She had this. She totally had this. She missed Papa a little, because he always kissed her forehead and wished her luck before she'd go in, but she was a big girl now and she didn't need it really. ... Well, maybe a little bit.

Maybe a lot.

Rubbing her face and imagining shiny lights with her name on them, Philippa bounded in front of Professor Myers and smiled at him her best showbiz smile, with lots of teeth and big bright eyes. Slightly demonic, but that's how it's supposed to be apparently. She went to see musicals at the West End and they all smiled like that.

"Hello professor!" the first year waved with a little finger wiggling at the Herbology professor and Drama club teacher. "I'll be doing a little bit from one of my favourite musicals, but I won't sing unless you need a singer, and then I can sing! Okay, I'm ready." She rolled her shoulders and jumped a little in the spot, before taking a deep breath and transforming into her character. Who was, basically, exactly like herself but louder, bigger, brighter, blonder, more amazing and definitely her favourite musical character ever.

"Whenever I see someone less fortunate than I," Philippa began, telling her story to Myers as she strode across the floor, chin up and a little bounce to her step, hands clasped behind her back and looking as regal as she could. Then she paused, giggled with her hand over her mouth, and winked at the Professor, "and let's face it, who isn't less fortunate than I?" With a little happy sigh, she resumed her walking. "My tender heart starts to bleed!"

Into it, she nodded several times to make her point, then leaned back and tossed her hair. "When someone needs a makeover, I simply just have to take over see, because I know, mmhm, I know exactly what they'll need!" Hands on her hips, Philippa struck a pose and nodded several times more, remembering her drama teacher's lesson to over-exaggerate because it makes people laugh. Here she was, Madame Boussard! She hoped he'd laugh. Philippa really wanted Myers to laugh.

"And even in your case," she pointed at Myers, and ran lightly to him, "though it's the toughest case I've yet to face," Philippa patted his head with a look of pity and mild glee because she was an actress and Glinda was supposed to feel pity at this part, yes she was. Philippa continued on, stage whispering next, "don't worry, I'm determined to succeed! Just follow my lead, and yes indeed you will be-" A pause. For drama. Then she leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"Popular!"

With a satisfied nod, a giggle and a little clap, Philippa hurried back to the floor in front of him and spun twice around herself, ending up facing him with copious amounts of joyful excitement. "Popular!" she repeated, yelling the world loudly as she threw her arms above her head. "You're going to be p-o-p-u-l-a-r! I'll teach you the proper poise!" Philippa showed said poise, by taking in a large gulp her air with her head held sky high, pretending she had a ball gown on as she sashayed across the floor. "For when you talk to boys," she erupted in little giggles, truly her signature move. She knew how to giggle very well. "Little ways to flirt, and flounce!" she swayed her hips, held up her hair and winked again, as precocious and theatrical as she was taught to be.

"I'll even show you what shoes to wear," she nodded and smiled widely, putting a hand over her chest and to show the thoughtfulness, really, because picking correct shoes really was very important. She was totally not acting here, she really believed this part. "How to fix your hair too! Really, everything that counts to be popular!" she paced around the stage, showing off her hair, her clothes (regular school robes, but she was pretending they were the latest fashion in the wizarding world) and really, just how divine she was in absolutely every way.

"You'll hang with the right cohorts, and be good at sports," Philippa resumed her walking across the stage, making a muscle and pretending she had a gaggle of girls around her, acting her little heart out. "And know the slang you've got to know of course, so let's start," she nodded and folded her arms over her chest, jutting out her hip as she eyed the professor with a judgmental raise of her eyebrow. "Because really, we've got an awful long way to go." She shrugged, again over-exaggerating her movements for some comedy, and launched into the second verse.

The entire song was long, and Philippa didn't want to bore the professor even though she enjoyed doing it all, so the brunette cut out several chunks and did only a few more verses. Reaching the end, meaning she now reached that word that she always had to concentrate on because she almost always messed it up, Philippa summoned all the energy she had left.

"And though you protest, your disinterest," utmost concentration Philippa von Brandt. Utmost concentration! "I know clandestinely," TADA! She did it! She was the best the world has ever seen! "that you're going to grin!" she paused then, pointing towards her mouth which she downturned into a mocking frown, then transformed it into a truly massive beam, "and bear it!" Philippa nodded earnestly once more, driving home the fakeness that the character had in this part. It was her favourite part, the ending. It used to always make her laugh, but she understood it a little better now and it was just the BEST part. The best.

"You will be popular," the brunette nodded sagely, fixing her tie and patting down her skirt with a little smirk, "just not quite as popular," she reached up to her hair, letting it out in all its shiny, thick, heavenly brown glory, and ran to the front of the floor where she laughed, laughed and laughed some more, grinning brightly with a slight glint at Myers.

She was so good at the glint. She practiced it in the mirror for ages. The tiiiiny smirk was just so easy to do.

"... as ME!"

And it was over. So much fun! She'd been amazing! Oh, the best! Philippa loved Glinda, she just knew that she did that character so well. So well. Where was Papa. Papa would have been so proud! She clapped a little for herself too, just for good measure.

With a little curtsy, Philippa gathered her long hair into a bun. "Thank you Professor!" And with a little skip, she left the room to go find Beau and tell him all about how amazing she'd been. HA.

OOC: "Popular" from Wicked, performed as a dramatic reading rather than a song. Cut some of it out due to length, which she would have done too. <3

When Skylar saw the announcement about auditions for the Hogwarts play, of course she wanted to audition. She never considered herself to be terribly dramatic, but if you were to ask her parents or her siblings or friends, well, they might have a different viewpoint. She did, HOWEVER, like to be the center-of-attention. As a participant of the Drama club, while she'd be okay being the master lighting and sound technician yes, she was dreaming big, there was something propelling about actually being on stage. She could see it now, the booklets: "Debuting Skylar Natasha Diggory"; it was as clear as ... lemonade.

Breathe, just breathe, she reminded herself. After weeks of researching play monologues, she'd finally found the perfect one to use. Now she just hoped she wouldn't forget those lines, which only started memorizing three days ago. Fortunately, it was just an audition and she did have a notecard with her lines on it, something she wouldn't have for the actual play.

When her name was called up though, the fifth year froze. For a second, before inhaling deeply, and slowly exhaling. You got this, Skylar.

Making her way up to the front of the stage, Merlin, those lights were bright? Were they always this bright?

"Don't come near me!" she started, a nervous but confident exclamation, which gave her just that little bit of an extra boost. "Don't come near me. I don't need any words from you." Dramatic pause. "I'm not threatening anybody. I don't even know what I'm doing here." The more she spoke, the more Skylar fell into the part, not even looking at the notecard, but holding out her hands as if to hold someone back.

Then a hand sweep out to the crowds - namely Professor Myers - "You all say you don't remember Vince. Okayyyy... Maybe you don't." Eyeroll. "Maybe it's Vince that's crazy. Maybe he's made this whole family thing up. I don't even care anymore." Skylar tossed her hands in the air, the notecard flying behind her.

"Honestly, I was just along for the ride. I thought it was a nice gesture. Besides. I was curious," she tapped her temple twice, before crossing her arms. "He made all of you sound familiar to me, every. single. one. of you. For every name, I had an image. Every time he'd say a name, I'd see the person." Nod, nod. "In fact, you all were so clear in my mind, I actually believed it was you. I really believed that when I walked through that door, that the people who lived here would turn out to be the same people in imagination." Exasperated sigh, her hands fell and the Slytherin just shook her head.

"Real people. People with faces. And yet, I don't recognize any of you." Another shake of her head. Deep breath.

"Not one of you. Not even the slightest resemblance."

And she was done. With a step forward to the front of the stage, she curtsied slightly, before exiting the stage.

ooc: Monologue copyright credited to "Buried Child", character Shelly. A play by Sam Shepard.

Junia paced in front of the room of requirement, nervous. She wasn't sure what possessed her to add another thing to her load of work this term, but acting seemed exciting and maybe, just maybe, it could be something she was good at. Everyone in her family had something for themselves. They stood out. She didn't. Not yet. Maybe she could now.

...

"Hello Professor." It was her turn and she stood in front of one of her favorite educators and curtsied like she always did, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes as she straightened up. Nerves, you know. "I'll be performing a piece from The Secret Garden by Frances Hodgson Burnett." She nodded her head, took a breath, and then her expression changed completely.

Sitting down on the floor, the fifteen year old started picking at the fabric of her jeans and then glanced up at Professor Myers sheepishly, completely in the character of Mary now.

"I don’t know anything about boys.." She started slowly, shifting a little, looking now as if she was deciding whether or not to trust him with something very important to her that she was both excited and scared to share. " Could you keep a secret, if I told you one? It’s a great secret. I don’t know what I should do if anyone found it out. I believe I should die! Her voice went higher here, her posture changing as she sat up and placed both hands on her legs. Could he tell how big this secret was?! " I’ve stolen a garden. It isn’t mine. It isn’t anybody’s. Nobody wants it, nobody cares for it, nobody ever goes into it. Perhaps everything is dead in it already; I don’t know." She let the secret slip from her lips very quickly and she glanced around once she was done as if worried someone might've overheard, that someone might take this special place away from her. Then her gaze focused on him once more, her eyes big and filled with emotion. " And I don’t care, I don’t care! Nobody has any right to take it from me when I care about it and they don’t. They’re letting it die, all shut up by itself. It’s mine now. And she crossed her arms, her eyes filling up with tears as though her heart had been broken over this garden that had been left to die. How could anyone do such a thing?! She was going to bring it back to life, she could, it was hers now.

...

"And scene." Junia wiped at her eyes and stood up, smoothing her clothes. "I hope that was okay. Thanks Professor." She gave a half-wave and then exited the room, feeling okay with how it went.

Myrtle wouldn’t be called; Myers surely wouldn’t call poor Myrtle into audition because he HATED her. Everyone hated her. When Professor Myers called the next person, Myrtle swooped right in before anyone could protest and stopped only once she was floating above the stage.

“I am here to audition for this play!” she announceed. “Since there is no GHOST REPRESENTATION in it!” Her voice became so high pitched that it broke midway through the statement. “And since I’m a GHOST and can’t actively look up monologues -” She shot Professor Myers the dirtiest look she could muster because that WAS COMPLEEEEEEEETELY UNFAIR, “I’ve gone and made up my OWN play!” Her shrill whine was enough to break the sound barrier.

She cleared her throat, and began:

“At FIRST, I was SOOOOOoOOOooOoooo afraaaaaaaaid!” she wailed and clutched her hands over her unbeating heart. “I was absolutely PETRIFIED.” Myrtle made her body stiffen in rigidity. “I thought I could nEVER EVER EVER liiiiiiIIIIIIIVEEEEEEEEEEEEEE - “ Did he need singing? “WITHOUT YOU BY MY SIDE!” She rolled her head back while sweeping a hand across her forehead, her back arching as she waltzed across the stage. Her voice broke each time she shrieked.

“I spent EEVERRRRRRRRRRRRY night thinking about…..about…..” She teared up. “A-B-B-B-BOUT all you DID ME WRONG!” The ghost suddenly dropped into a lying down position, sprawling out three inches above the stage floor. “BUT I GREWWWWW SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO STRONG! And I learned….Oh I LEAAAAAAARNED how to…. How to - “ Her voice broke again as she burst into fake tears. But the tears came so easily for Myrtle now. “HOW TO GET ALOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG!”

She straightened up and gave a deep bow, then moaned. “AND THAT IS MY AUDITION, AND IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT YOU’RE GHOSTIST!”



*SHRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEK*

Myrtle flew off into the ceiling.

Next, after Derf, was the ickle Maddie Kemp, one of his own, and Paul was very impressed with the first year's word pronunciation and everything. VERY impressed! Also, what play was this? Because Paul thought it was soooo funny! [B}"Very good, Maddie, thank you!"[/B] he gave her a thumbs up. Then was Kyle, and Paul called his name fore sitting to listen to his brief audition. But short wasn't bad; it was simple and to the point. "Thank you so much, Kyle! Great job!" Paul clapped and smiled before moving to poke his head out the door again, calling on Flynn THE SLYTHERIN because it RHYMED. Flynn performed well, to his surprise. He wouldn't had napped Flynn as a performer. Interesting. He almost was...musical in his performance.

And then he needed a breather.

BUT THEN BACK TO THE THEATERRRRRR. "Jessa, yes please - " and in she came, did her thing, and Paul couldn't help but laaaaaaugh so hard at the first line, and the whole thing really. Jessa was a funny person, though, without trying to be. Something to keep in mind. "Thank you!"

OOOhhh snap, we have a Shakespeare! Paul knew sOMEONE would do Shakespeare, and he didn't much care because Shakespeare was pretty awesome. "Thank you, Olivia! Great job!" he grinned and called on Juni, who did another Shakespeare. Two in row! Very funny, heh. He smiled as she did her thing and gave her a few claps. "Very good, thank you, m'dear!" The line was getting longer O___O GAH.

"Ronan Carter!" he smiled as the young Gryffindor came in. Who performed...something that was seriously odd but also interesting? He had never heard something quite like it. "Thank you!" he said the he finished, and he smiled and waved him off as he went to call the next person. Ronan had done so well!

Paul didn't think he'd ever hear a monologue about farting, but there was a first time for everything, and of course it was done by none other than Zoryn Spinnet. Paul exploded into laughter after she was done. "HAH. Good job, Zoryn. Thank you!" Next was Felicity, though, and her monologue was from Shakespeare, too. He thought Shakespeare sounded cool in an American accent, too. Heh. "Thank you so much, Felicity. Great job!"

Phillippa was certainly enthusiastic! He called her in and watched her performance with wide eyes! It also sounded....different, but he enjoyed it. Again. "Well, thank you for that, Phillippa. You were great!" he chuckled and clapped three times for her. Three exactly, yes. Paul was already popular, though, so the monologue wasn't really made FOR him. Skylar's monologue was kind of serious and sad, and it showed Paul that Skylar might be suited for something more serious. Something to keep in mind. 'Thank you so much for that, Skylar!"

.....Paul recognized this one. Junia's was from...a muggle work...one he had read....THE SECRET GARDEN. Oh he could SEEEEE what she was doing here! Playing to his likes. Heh. Sneaky, Junia Botros. He clapped once she was finished and smiled. "Heh. Thank you, Junia. I enjoyed it." And he was leading her out to call the next person in when..........


MYRTLE. HAPPENED.

Paul didn't even know what to say. What was she saying?! WHAT WAS HAPPENING?! Paul couldn't possibly cast a GHOST in his play. She couldn't pick things up or react with PROPS! He...his mind was going a million miles a minute and...WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT?! His ears hurt. WERE THEY BLEEDING?

He blinked a few times. What the..............hell.

He peeked out to call the next person.

Abey wasn't sure what the worst thing about this whole audition process was, but the part where he had to wait outside for his name to be called was probably WAY UP HIGH ON THE LIST. An anxious person by nature, the concept of auditions - of putting himself out there, centre of attention, opening himself up to be laughed at or rejected or even totally ignored - had turned him into an anxious mess for days. Weeks? MONTHS. YEEEAARRRRSSSS.

... Okay, weeks.

And yet, there he was, because Abey actually had DONE acting before, actually, before Hogwarts. It had just been a local muggle drama club for kids back home, something to build up his confidence before Hogwarts, but he'd loved it all the same. But for the production they'd done back then, the selection process hadn't been nearly as terrifying as proper auditions, and since then... his anxiety had only really worsened. For reasons.

Perhaps a million times while he was waiting, Abey had tried to ditch the auditions, but each time he only got about halfway down the corridor before coming straight back again. Because he DID love acting, it made him feel good and he liked being able to do something and ALSO he never ever ever felt more confident than when he was pretending to be someone else, especially a confident someone else. Or... maybe perhaps that was the only time he ever felt confident... BUT THE POINT WAS that he just... really really didn't want to keep running away from ALL the things that scared him ALL through his life.

Sometimes it was good to run away, like... running from monsters, for example, but when the thing that scared him was only really just a less good part of something he loved to do, and he avoided doing it anyway... maybe in the short term it made him feel more comfortable, but ultimately Abey always ended up feeling upset because he was missing out on good things too.

So, in the end, Abey had stayed, determined to see this through. Determined to at least get through the audition because then at least he could say that he'd done it, even if his voice trembled and his hands shook and he spent every second feeling like he was going to throw up - all of this before the audition had even started.

Until finally, it was time, and Abey - like all the students before him - headed into the Room of Requirement (the appearance of which was almost enough to have him turning tail and running away yet again). Reminding himself over and over again that it would only last for a few minutes before being over, that it would only be the very friendly (and not at all scary) Myers that would be in the room, Abey headed up onto the stage, stood dead centre, and looked at the professor.

........ And just sort of... stood there. What now? What was he supposed to do? ... Just start, right? That... that would make sense. He just needed to... start... talking...

But even as he stood there, the anxiety continued to take over, until it felt less like a wave that was battering him and more like a whirlpool that was dragging him down and drowning him and stopping him from focusing on anything other than how scared he felt and making him feel like he couldn't breathe. Abey tried hard to take deep steadying breaths, and to focus on the contents of the single page of an old script that he had folded up in his pocket (the one from when he had played a PRINCE in his old drama club, the one he had begged his mama to find and send to him so that he might have a familiar scene to audition with) but his mind was going blank and he couldn't remember how it started. He pulled the page out of his pocket, all fumbling fingers, and unfolded it just to try and kickstart his brain, but with his anxiety and the state he was getting himself into, the words were even more of a jumbled mess than usual, all jumping up off of the page of twisting into each other and flashing and fading and hurting his head. In a moment of frustration, he screwed up the page, balling it up in his hands.

The panic was rising, Abey's breathing was getting faster and faster and he didn't know what to do. He could feel his eyes starting to sting with tears and quickly turned his back to Myers so that he wouldn't see if he started to cry.

Now facing the entire wrong way, all Abey could see was the curtain at the back of the stage. Red. Gryffindor red. Abey was a Gryffindor, and Gryffindors were strong, and brave, and they could do all sorts of things, even - especially - the things that scared them. Even when they were terrified and the world was ending and crumbling down around them, or at least when he felt that way. He took several deep breaths, looking at that red curtain, using it to ground himself and to remind himself that it was okay, this was okay.

The urge to just apologise and leave once he had composed himself was still strong, but there was something in Abey that told him to carry on, that little defiant voice that refused to be silenced; the defiant voice that was really actually Abey, determined to break through the anxiety and the fear that was trying to take over.

Just pretend, he told himself. You're not scared of this. You're not scared of anything. You're not Abey. You're a terrible, frightening warlock. Remember? The warlock that used to frighten you when mama told you the story? Well, he doesn't frighten you anymore. That's you... that's who you can be. Confident and arrogant and not worried about a single thing. You can be him, now.

It wasn't the scene he was going to audition with, and as far as Abey knew, it wasn't actually a scene from a play at all, only an old story for children. But it was the only thing he could think of. There wasn't really a lot of speaking in it either so... well........ time to make it up. Of course, that would only show that he couldn't remember the lines if he needed to, and was probably no good for the play, but now all Abey wanted to do was get through the audition, and not run away, and that was what he was going to do.

For just a moment longer, Abey stood where he was, his back to Professor Myers, but in those few seconds, his entire posture changed. Where before he had almost folded in on himself in an attempt to make himself as small as possible, he now straightened out his back, lifted his head high, and pushed back his shoulders. Abey fixed the curtain at the back of the stage with a piercing glare, like he was seeing straight through it.

Except now, he wasn't Abey. Because he wasn't pretending to be a warlock, he was the warlock. The crumpled up paper in his hand was no longer a script, but a heart.

Slowly, he turned back around, at first moving only his upper body, looking back over his shoulder, before following suit with his feet. The intense look on his face almost seemed to darken his features, probably because it was such an unlikely expression for the real Abey to ever make.

"I have brought you down here..." he said, speaking slowly and deliberately, and keeping his eyes fixed on the only other person in the room. "To show you... my greatest treasure." He held out his hands, cupped around the crumpled up 'heart', and looked down at it as he did so, ignoring the persistent hammering of his own very real heart still in his very real chest.

"This..." he continued, still holding out the 'heart', and impulsively moving forward, and placing it on the edge of the stage, before straightening and slowly backing up again, a slight look of distaste on his face. "That... is your weakness." He pointed at his audience, a sudden, almost threatening motion, and held the pose for just a moment... before slowly breaking into a smile, and clutching at his own chest with one hand, where the hammering had not yet slowed. "Without my heart, I am strong. I am not weakened. Nothing can... distract me." Here, he raised his voice suddenly, triumphant and almost aggressive. "I am rich! I am powerful! I have everything that I have ever wanted, that I could ever want."

He fell into a poignant silence - because even while he was acting and pretending and in character, even then, Abey felt a little scared and a little sad, not about his total mess of an audition but at the idea that someone would think of love as bad and weak, would choose to not feel it just so that he could be rich and powerful... and surely it must be not only scary but also sad to see someone like that, even if they didn't feel sad about it at all, which the warlock certainly didn't - and looked straight ahead.

"The one thing..." he said, after a lengthy silence, and held up one finger to illustrate the point he was making. "The one thing I do not have? I am not loved." He did his best to look disgusted, and sneered. "I do not care for love. But my servants... I heard them mocking me, pitying me... they say... they say that the one thing I do not have is the love of another. Of any other." His gaze remained fixed and piercing, perhaps frightening depending on one's perspective, but then a smile crept onto his face.

"But you," his voice became softer as he spoke, and he put his hands behind his back, standing up proudly once more, because his pride was the most important thing here. "You will love me."

He smiled again, but bowed his head slightly, so it might have looked sinister, if he managed to do it right.

"And then I will have everything."

Aaaaaaaand....... scene?

As Abey had basically been making the whole thing up as he'd been going along (difficult especially when he couldn't remember a lot of the details in the first place and had probably got the whole thing wrong) he supposed it was really up to him when the scene ended, and there seemed as good a place as any.

At the merest thought that it could finally be over, Abey instantly broke character, and moved his hands so that he was back to wringing them in front of his chest again. The nerves felt like they were flooding back, but Abey knew, really, that they probably had never really properly gone away. He'd continued to feel totally nauseous throughout the entire thing.

"Um..." His voice trembled slightly, but then it had done so for the first half of his audition too, seeing as it wasn't really something he was able to just talk himself out of very easily. "That wasn't, um... really from a play, but I... um... It's Babbitty Rabbitty too so, I... I don't know, I just sort of....... panicked....... I'm sorry."

But you know what? Even though he still felt anxious and shaky and sick and EVERYTHING... Abey felt... a million times better, because he had done the audition, he hadn't run away or anything.

Except for right now. He was absolutely running away right now.

"OkaygottagoProfessorbye."

And then he was gone, leaping down and sprinting for the door, forgetting the balled up script page and leaving it abandoned at the edge of the stage.

Kitty had never been in a play before. They looked very fun, but she'd never really felt like enrolling in one out of a case of nerves. But as soon as she'd seen the flyers for this event, she knew she had to be in it. This would be her last and only chance to do something like this while at school, and the fact that she was graduating this term (just thinking this made her sad) made her want to do this even more.

After a little while of researching, she knew what she would perform - just she wasn't 100 % certain what role she would audition for. At first she thought you had to audition as one of the characters from the play, but after talking to several other students she realized that many of them would be acting scenes from many different plays - not just the Fountain of Fair Fortune which they were auditioning for.

She arrived on the scene a little later than most of her classmates. Not late (that would be unbecoming of the head girl) but one of the last in line to audition. She was also dressed forMhe part. While the super pale makeup was normal for her, today it was also part of her costume. And what was NOT normal for her was her wild hair, which was deliberately combed upwards and sideways and every which way to make it look like she were a mad scientist.

Smiling at anyone who stared, Kitty waited patiently to be called in. Then it was her turn. She took a deep inhale, closed her eyes, then slowly exhaled Yoga-like. Relaxed, she walked boldly into the Room of Requirement.

Red curtain. WHEW! Kitty smiled at Professor Myers and pointed at her wild hair. "It's for my audition today, this isn't my new style."

"So, um, good morning Professor Myers," she started somewhat awkwardly, though she wasn't nervous. The need to clarify about her hair kind of messed up her intro. "I'm going to be playing a scene from a play I saw when I was a kid, but I've edited it just a little to take out a swear word or two." Because he wouldn't likely approve of students dramatically shouting swear words around!

And with that, the Goth skipped her way towards the stage and stood at the center. She crouched her shoulders and forced a stony expression into her face, and stared to her right. "I had him! No, I had him!" She stalked off to the edge of the stage and began muttering under her breath in a sing-song voice. "His throat was there beneath my hand...his throat was there and now he'll never come again."

She jerked her head around to stare at someone non-existent behind her. There was pause for a few seconds, as though she was listening to something being said. "When?!" she hissed, advancing towards that non-existent person. "Why did I wait? You told me to wait! Now he'll never come again!"

The next few lines she skipped because they contained a swear word. Honestly, she'd sworn a few times back in London - but not at Hogwarts where younger kids could hear or older people could scold.

"They all deserve to die," she continued, starting to sing now. "Tell you why, Mrs. Lovett, tell you why. Because in all of the whole human race Mrs. Lovett, there are two kinds of people and only two. There's the one staying put in his proper place, and the one with his foot on the other one's face! Look at me Mrs. Lovett, look at you! No we all deserve to die! Even you, Mrs. Lovett, even I. Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief. For the rest of, death will be a relief. No, we allllll deserve to die."

Kitty dropped dramatically to her knees and extended her arms to her sides, forcing a look of absolute sorrow on her features. "And I'll neeeeeeeever see Johanna, no I'll never hug my girl to me - FINISHED!"

And she stood dramatically, dropping the sadness and replacing it with a look of indignation. (Anyone who'd ever seen her attack the Statute or defend Muggles in a debate would recognize that look as Pure Kitty DuGray Valentine - co-opted for Sweeney.) "Alright! You sir, how about a shave?" She pointed at Professor Myers for effect. 'Come and visit your good friend Sweeney. You sir, too sir?" Pointing now to something to Professor Myer's left. "Welcome to the grave!"

"I will have vengeance.
I will have salvaaation.
Who sir, you sir?
No ones in the chair, Come on! Come on!"

And she curled her lips above her teeth, revealing plastic vampire like fangs. She spoke in a raspy voice. "Sweeney's. Waiting. I want you. You sir! Anybody! Gentlemen now don't be shy!"

Then she forced the pained expression back on her face and extended her arms, and cast her gaze up to the ceiling. This time she did not drop, but rather spun around slowly in a circle while singing.

"Not one man, no, nor ten men.
Nor a HUNDRED can assuage me.
I will have you!
And I will get him back even as he gloats!
In the meantime I'll practice on less honorable
throats.
And my Lucy lies in ashes,
And I'll neeeeever see my girl again.

But the work awaits!
I'm alive at last!
And I'm full of JOOOOOYYYYYYY!!!!"

Shaking with pride and nervousness, Kitty approached Professor Myers. "That's Sweeney Todd, a creepy Muggle play about a serial killer. I don't know who I want to audition for, but I'll be happy in whatever role you want to give me." Smiling, she strolled out of the stage, hardly daring to believe she'd just sung for Professor Myers.

Char had very quickly decided that she wanted to audition for The Fountain of Fair Fortune. It sounded like a blast to her. The only problem was that she had NO IDEAAAA what role to go out for. If Henry had been auditioning she might have chosen Amata to go for, opposite him as Sir Luckless because she didn't think it would feel right to pretend to fall in love with anyone else even if it WAS just acting. Also most of her friends hadn't been much interested, or had said they were too busy with NEWTs or thought it was dumb and for babies. Charlotte saw no problems with THAT though, she was totally happy to work with the younger kids and have fun with them.

She tried to visualise herself in different roles but none of them particularly GRABBED her. All in all she supposed she didn't really MIND what role she might get, and to show that, Char decided to audition for one that hadn't even been on the call list. And now she was being summoned in by the professor. After what felt like an eternity of waiting. YAY.

Enter, Charlotte Kettleburn, in a silver and blue draped dress, wand in hand. Name called, she waved at the professor with one hand, skipped over to the spot in front of him, and smiled excitedly. Only a bit of nerves, and only because she wasn't so sure about how well her approach would go down and she didn't want to get in any trouble but GOSH she was excited and eager.

"Hi professor!" She surely didn't need to say her name right? He KNEW who she was by now after all. "I'm going to be auditioning for," Drumroll please? "The fountain!" She thrust her wand up in the air above her head. All that non-verbal practice with dueling was going to come in handy, and really, she'd wanted to be a show dueler her whole LIFE so... why not use THIS as an opportunity?

"I'm going to be performing The Thingummy Bob. Its super old, muggles wrote it during World War two!" She looked up at her wand, and then down and met Professor Myers's eyes, and began confidently.

"You've heard of Florence Nightingale, Grace Darling and the rest. You've all seen Greta Garbo and her best friend, Mae West. But there's a little lady, I want you all to meet, she's working on munitions and she lives just down the street." Charlotte told him in wise tones, projecting her voice.

"She can't pretend to be a great celebrity but still," Char held one finger up. "She's most important in her way. The job she has to do may not seem like much to you, but all the same I'm very proud to say..." Char whipped her wand around, concentrating as hard as she could and water shot out of the tip of it, water that shot out like a whip and then formed itself into a clear blue ribbon, resembling the type of ribbon a rhythmic gymnast might use, except made from water. Charlotte began twirling it around herself, using it to emphasize her words as she began to sing, not particularly beautifully (no awards here!), but full of humour and character and enthusiasm. She was a good mimic for tone at least.

"She's the girl that makes the thing that drills the hole that holds the spring that drives the rod that turns the knob that works the thingummy bob!

She's the girl that makes the thing that holds the oil that oils the ring that takes the shank that moves the crank.... that works the thingummy bob!" She let the lasso of water go with a SPLASH - except the water didn't impact anything. Just before it looked like it would, it seemed to disappear completely and Char winked happily at Professor Myers as she continued, this time shooting tiny little bursts of water into the air... the droplets fizzling away on their descent. She switched back to a more spoken word approach, though still with a sing-song element that worked well with the jaunty words.

"It's a ticklish sort of job making a thing for a thingummy bob, especially when you don't know what it's for! But it's the girl that makes the thing that drills the hole that holds the spring that works the thingummy bob that makes the engines roar....
And it's the girl that makes the thing that holds the oil that oils the ring that works the thingummy-bob that's going to win the war!" A few drops splashed at Professor Myers. Concentrating on this was starting to take its toll. Hopefully he wouldn't mind getting a little damp. Charlotte twirled and danced around. Though graceful, her movements were more enthusiasm than skill: the skill was all going into her wand work, bursts of water shooting up to punctuate her half-sung, half-orated words.

"She's not what you would call, a heroine at all! I don't suppose you'll even know her name... And though she'll never boast, of her important post, she strikes a blow for Britain just the same!

She's the girl that makes the thing that drills the hole that holds the spring that drives the rod that turns the knob that works the thingummy bob. She's the girl that makes the thing that holds the oil that oils the ring that takes the shank that moves the crank that works the thingummy bob." The concentration for the spell work was beginning to show on her face, and also in that the water was becoming more and more.... spray-y. Droplets coming your way, Professor Myers! But she gamely continued, doing her best to spin and move fountain-like, and as gracefully as possible.

"It's a ticklish sort of job making a thing for a thingummy bob, especially when you don't know what it's for....but!
It's the girl that makes the thing that drills the hole that holds the spring that works the thingummy bob that makes the engines roar!" She conjured another water lasso, which whipped around her, droplets beginning to patter on the ground.

"And it's the girl that makes the thing that holds the oil that oils the ring that works the thingummy bob that's going to win the war!" With a big final effort, Charlotte whipped her wand up and the lasso of water whipped up with it, then dissolved into a sparkly mist, which fell gently on everyone around. She held her final pose, wand up in the air, for a few moments and then curtseyed. She peeked at the professor trying to gauge his reaction before standing up straight again.

"Thanks Professor Myers! I really don't mind what part I get, I just really really really want to be able to use my wand because I want to be a show dueler!" Which was part of why she had joined the drama club, because it would totally help with that, right? You know what she needed now though...? A glass of water. All that was thirsty work.