By the time James got to the outside amphitheater entrance, he was sweaty and out of breath. Most of the other classes were already gathering, their voices ringing in the natural acoustics of the space. James grimaced, seeing the hundreds of robed figures milling about. It was nearly impossible to remain inconspicuous in the oversized, striped swimsuits. James and Ralph huddled near the back, trying unsuccessfully to hide behind each other. Scorpius was the first to notice them. He walked past with a group of first-year Gryffindors, smirking. Cameron saw James and made to grin and wave. His grin turned slightly puzzled when he saw James' attire.
"I see none of the second-year girls are wearing swimsuits," Rose commented, slipping in next to James. "Defence Against the Dark Arts, I assume?"
James nodded. "It's OK though. Debellows says these are actually quite stylish. Come on, let's find a seat."
James' last time in the amphitheater had been the previous term, on the night of the first all-school debate. That had been a fairly unpleasant occasion, in which Tabitha Corsica had proclaimed from the stage that Harry Potter was a fraud and a liar. An all-out riot had been barely prevented by a well-timed bit of absurd fireworks, produced by Ted Lupin and the Gremlins. Now, by daylight, the amphitheater was quite cheerful. The huge stage was mostly bare; as James looked, a couple of older Ravenclaw boys climbed up from the orchestra pit. They bowed deeply on the edge of the stage, and then began to make faces and blow raspberries at the crowd. There was some scattered applause and hooting until Professor McGonagall shooed them back to their seats.
As James, Ralph, and Rose sidled into a row, Noah Metzker called from nearby. "Interesting choice of uniform, you two. The stripes say 'Azkaban', but the cut says 'exercise yard'."
"Har, har," James groused. "You'll be next, Metzker."
"Actually, we already did the lake run," Noah replied seriously. "Just wait until sixth year. Debellows shoots Stinging Hexes at you from the shore. It's supposed to teach you 'the mental discipline of overcoming pain'."
Damien nodded gravely. "All I had to overcome was a burning desire to clip him upside the ear."
James noticed that Petra wasn't sitting with the rest of the Gremlins. She sat at the end of the aisle, several rows down. She stared blankly at the stage.
Finally, Professor Tina Curry climbed the steps to the stage. She wore a sporty blue cloak over her robes. Her frizzy hair had been teased into a loose bun.
"Greetings, students," she called, raising her wand to her throat. Her amplified voice echoed around the amphitheater. The babble of voices subsided.
"Thank you for attending this rather unusual first class," Curry continued. "Since nearly all of you are taking Muggle Studies this term, following the new year-specific curriculum, I thought it'd be rather a treat for us all to begin the term's endeavor together. As most of you know, I am Tina Curry, Professor of Muggle Studies, and it is the goal of this class to teach us to understand the ways and means of the Muggle world. We do this for a variety of reasons, but primarily because, being witches and wizards, we have the benefit of knowing of the Muggle world, whereas they know nothing of us. It is, therefore, incumbent upon us to study the Muggle world, to understand it as well as possible, so that we may, whenever necessary, mingle in that world and work comfortably within it. Further, we must recall our shared humanity, valuing our differences without creating prejudices from them. Thus, as an exercise, this class encourages us to immerse ourselves in the Muggle world, utilizing some of the ingenious tools and methods that they have developed to compensate for their non-magical nature. Last term, many of you will recall that we played a Muggle sport called 'football', using only our feet and a simple, unenchanted ball. This term, we will attempt something on a far greater scale. This endeavor will require the cooperation of every class. Every one of us will have a specific duty, and we will accomplish those duties using no spells, potions, or charms. This term, students, we will be producing a theatrical presentation of the famous wizard play, The Triumvirate."
A wave of chatter moved through the assembly. James couldn't tell if the general response was positive or negative.
"What's that about?" Ralph asked.
Rose whispered, "It's a story about a love triangle between a young witch princess named Astra and two wizards, Treus and Donovan. Donovan's older and richer, Treus is younger, a captain in the king's army. I saw it with my mum once when I was little. It's got a huge cast. Should be interesting."
Near the front of the assembly, Havelock Baumgarten, one of the Slytherin Beaters, stood up, raising his hand peremptorily. "Professor Curry, The Triumvirate is a classically magical production," he said in his cultured, rather smarmy voice. "By its nature, it is dependent on key magical elements. The dream sequence alone has the heroine flying, imagining phantom armies, and witnessing the predicted sinking of Treus' galleon in a hurricane. How can we possibly expect to remain faithful to the story if we insist on strictly Muggle methods?"
"A legitimate concern, Mr. Baumgarten," Curry replied. "However, I have just returned from a tour of some of the Muggle world's better theatre productions, and I must say that the sheer ingenuity and resourcefulness of those presentations amazed even me. In fact, you may be interested to learn that even Muggles refer to the 'magic' of theatre."
From the crowd, Victoire spoke up, "But how can Astra fly without levitation?"
"You'd be quite surprised what can be accomplished with ropes and pulleys, Miss Weasley," Curry said, smiling. "In fact, I think all of you will be quite impressed by the amount of mundane 'magic' that can be done simply with paint, costumes, props, lights, and a seemingly endless number of stage-hands. This is why I have asked the school to involve all classes in this rather extensive production. The sheer number of teams and skills required assures that every one of us will play a vital role in the production. I will serve as director, of course. The production will run one night only, in this very amphitheater, the last week of the school term. Your parents and families will all be invited to attend. It will be, I am quite sure, an evening that all of us will remember."
The assembly broke apart into hushed babbling again as everyone considered this rather unusual plan. Professor Curry cleared her throat.
"To this end," she said, raising her voice over the chattering crowd, "I have posted several sign-up parchments in the hall immediately adjacent to the amphitheater. Anyone who wishes may try out for a part. Auditions will be scheduled in class, and parts will be awarded by the end of next week. Those who do not wish to act onstage may sign up for the orchestra, the props department, the costume shop, light crew, stage crew, and et cetera. I am sure everyone will find an area they will enjoy working in. And now, allow me to be the first to welcome you all to the world of the theatre! The assembly will conclude now, allowing you plenty of time to consider your options and sign up for whatever you wish. Thank you, students, and good evening."
As the assembly broke up and trickled toward the huge castle archway, Rose said, "You should sign up for a part, James. You're tall for your age. I bet you could play Treus."
James grimaced. "No way,"
"Why not?" Rose insisted. "Don't tell me you're afraid to get up on stage in front of everyone."
"No," James said, his face reddening a bit. "It's just silly. I mean, if we were doing The Last Assault of Keirkengard, I might sign up. At least in that story there's sword fights and explosions. I was thinking about signing up for the stage crew."
"Yeah," Ralph agreed. "I'm going to sign up for that or the props department. This could be kind of fun. I saw a play in London when I was a kid. It was wicked. I always thought it'd be neat to work behind the scenes."
"I'm putting my name down for Donovan," Noah proclaimed. "I've got that older, mysterious rogue look down already. I should be a shoo-in."
"It's too bad Ted's gone this year," Sabrina commented. "He'd love this. I wonder how he's doing with his Quidditch training."
Damien said, "We'll see him Hogsmeade weeken
d. We have a plan to meet him at the Triple Sticks."
"As long as he can get off work from Weasleys'," Noah interjected. "I hear George's been working him like a dog. Ted's not complaining though. He gets paid on commission, and he's pretty much a walking advertisement, isn't he?"
The crowd of students thronged near the archway as everyone milled around the sign-up parchments. Rose broke away, pressing toward the far end of the hallway. "I'm going to sign up for Astra," she called. "It's probably a long shot, but I can always fall back on costume shop if that doesn't work out."
Ralph also shouldered his way into the throng, heading for the props department sign-up parchment. James watched his friend go, and then scanned the nearby parchments. The crowd was finally thinning a bit as most of the students happily found their way to an early dinner. James glanced around, still hanging back. Satisfied that no one was watching, he slipped quickly over to the actors' sign-up parchments. He glanced over them, finding the parchment he was looking for. Grabbing the quill dangling from a bit of string, he signed his name to the parchment titled 'TREUS'.
It was completely silly, he assured himself. He'd never get the part. It was just a lark, a personal dare. Still, there was something exciting and giddy about the idea of playing the dashing male lead. He couldn't bring himself to admit it to Rose or Ralph. If by some remarkable fluke he were to get the role, he'd probably acknowledge that he'd secretly wanted to play it. Otherwise, no one would ever know, and that was just fine. Before stepping away, James peered quickly at the other names on the parchment. He'd been halfcertain that Scorpius' name would be on the list. It wasn't, and he felt a bit silly for looking.
James sauntered as casually as possible over to the group still gathered around the stage crew sign-up parchment. Ralph was just finishing signing his name.
"I'm on stage crew and props department," Ralph said. "I hope I can be on both. What'd you sign up for, James?"
James finished signing his name on the stage crew parchment. He turned, keeping his face blank, and gestured with the quill before letting it drop back on its string.
Ralph nodded and smiled. "We'll work together, maybe. Trenton's signed up for stage crew too, and so is Beetlebrick. He's not so bad if you can stay off the topic of Quidditch. Did you see what Albus signed up for?"
James shook his head. In fact, he hadn't seen his brother the entire assembly. "We can ask him at dinner," James replied. "Come on."
It wasn't the first time James had sat at the Slytherin table. The previous year, he had frequently joined Ralph and Zane for meals under the green and silver banner. Only now, however, did James realize how comforting it had been to have his mischievous American friend, who'd been a Ravenclaw, alongside him in those instances. There were no seats near Albus, who persisted in being rather a popular character in his new house. James reluctantly sat with Ralph and Trenton Bloch near the end of the table.
James was distracted throughout the meal. He was annoyed at having to go to such lengths to attract the attention of his younger brother. It was supposed to be the other way around, wasn't it? Albus was simply being gullible. He believed that the Slytherins were drawn to him for his wit and personality, but James knew that they were just using him. Having a Potter amongst the Slytherins was a sort of moral victory for Tabitha Corsica and her stupid Fang and Talons club. James wanted to warn Albus that the Slytherins' friendship wasn't sincere, but he was also a little angry with him for being so easily taken in.
Albus finally stood up from the table along with the group of older Slytherins that always seemed to accompany him. James shoved his plate away and stood as well, meaning to head Albus off near the door. He wanted to warn him about Tabitha's broom, but that wasn't all he meant to say. Albus was accepting this whole Slytherin assignment too easily, and James couldn't help feeling it was a betrayal of his family. He firmed his jaw as he turned to catch up to the departing Slytherins near the door.
"James," a voice rang out. James glanced back and stopped. Tabitha Corsica was approaching him from behind, smiling pleasantly. She had apparently broken away from Albus' constant entourage. James merely looked at her.
"I'm glad to see that you still feel comfortable dining at the Slytherin table," Tabitha said, affecting a warm smile. "I know there was some… unpleasantness last year. I am glad to see that it hasn't strained interhouse relations."
James shook his head, his anger rising. "Just stuff it, Corsica. There are no 'inter-house relations'. Just because Ralph is my friend, it doesn't mean I'm all smiles about what you and your lot stand for. I haven't forgotten the debate."
"Nor have I forgotten that you attempted to steal my broomstick before the tournament match last year," Tabitha said, batting her eyes coquettishly. "But I've decided to let bygones be bygones. I'd have thought you might feel a bit different, considering everything."
"Considering that Albus ended up going to the Slytherins just to spite Scorpius?" James spat. "He doesn't know what he's doing. And you're taking advantage of him."
Tabitha frowned slightly. "I'm sorry you feel that way, James. We happen to think that Albus fits in with us very nicely. He tells me that you witnessed his remarkable practice flight the other night, and I want you to know that I am quite glad you did. There was no trickery there. Albus is very talented. He will make a valuable addition to the Slytherin Quidditch team. And since you mention Scorpius Malfoy, I would think that the fact of his Sorting would prove to you precisely what I've been saying all along."
James glanced toward the door. Albus was leaving without so much as a look back. "What's Scorpius have to do with anything?" he asked.
"Well," Tabitha replied, arching her eyebrows, "Scorpius has either broken from the tradition of his father, choosing courage and valor over ambition, thus proving his worth as a Gryffindor. Or the Slytherins have changed, no longer to be the house of greed and corruption, as was the case in the day of Scorpius' father. Either way…," she smiled, waiting for James to give her his full attention, "it is proof that the Sorting Hat knows its business. Your brother is in Slytherin because that, James, is where he belongs. I truly hope you will not feel the continued need to interfere with that."
"He's my brother," James replied. "I'll interfere wherever I see fit."
"I'm not threatening you, James," Tabitha said, the smile going out of her voice, "I'm doing you the favor of warning you. Your brother is special. It may well be that we Slytherins are the only house that could recognize that. Albus has a destiny. I tell you this as a friend: if anyone attempts to stand in the way of that destiny, even you, they do so at their own risk."
James studied Tabitha's face. She seemed remarkably sincere, and yet it was so hard to trust anything she said. "What do you think you know about Al's destiny?"
Tabitha smiled a little again. "That's for him to tell if he chooses. But I expect he hardly realizes it himself yet. My advice, James: watch and wait. And enjoy your brother's success. It's what he would do for you."
With that, Tabitha turned, her robes sweeping delicately, and left the Great Hall.
7. Amsera Certh
After dinner, James was accompanied by Ralph and Rose to the Gryffindor common room. On the way, he told them about his conversation with Tabitha and her unsettling proclamation of Albus' potential, but neither of them seemed particularly impressed.
"That's the way she always talks," Ralph said dismissively. "Even some of the Slytherins tend to view her as a bit of a drama queen."
"You mean anyone other than you and Trenton?" James asked, arching an eyebrow.
"They do seem to sincerely like Albus," Rose commented, stepping through the portrait hole. "Maybe it's all true. Maybe Albus is the boy of destiny. Apparently, that kind of thing runs in the family, just like dark hair and Quidditch skills."
"It's not funny," James said, but he couldn't help smiling a little.
"You should just come with me down to the Slytherin common room one of these nights," Ralph suggested. "See for yo
urself how Albus gets along with everybody. Honestly, he does seem to fit in pretty well. It'll put your mind at ease."
The three made their way across the crowded common room, joining Noah, Damien, and Sabrina on a pair of couches in a dark corner.
"We were just talking about you, James," Noah proclaimed, patting the couch cushion next to him. James flung himself onto the couch, happy to be among his friends.
"We've got an idea," Sabrina said wisely, tapping the side of her nose.
"Does it have anything to do with the Heracles window again?" Ralph asked, grinning. "That was a big hit even with the Slytherins. Filch still hasn't gotten it entirely back to rights. Heracles' face keeps reverting to Malfoy's overnight."
"It's all in the wrist," Damien said proudly, flexing his hand.
"No, this is even better," Noah replied, leaning forward on the couch and lowering his voice. "It's this Debellows disaster that's got everybody in a lather. Seems that people don't so much mind a little physical training; I mean the guy does have a point that battling the Dark Arts does sometimes require a little actual fighting. But this whole no-spells thing for the younger years is just over the top. And so it got us thinking…"
"This has happened before!" Sabrina said, smacking James on the shoulder.
James glanced around at the Gremlins. "I'm missing something," he admitted.
"Back in your dad's day," Damien replied, rolling his eyes. "The reign of Umbridge the Terrible. Don't tell me we know more about your dad's school exploits than you do."
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