Penwick

The streets of Aurell Row were already crowded when June and her father arrived. Carriages lined the road, their occupants stepping out into the cool March evening dressed in everything from practical wool coats to robes so aggressively colourful that June was convinced they'd be asked to remove them as to not distract the actors.

Opening night was as much a social event as it was a theatrical one, June was reminded. She remembered being taken to a piece of theater, usually opera or ballet, when she was younger. It was no surprise that those outings had stopped around her second year at Hogwarts.

A voice called out as June and her father approached the theatre entrance. "Phinehas! Mr. Selwyn! A lanky man with a large camera around his neck was waving at the pair. "One moment for a photo for the Brynwell Gazette?"

June found herself being ushered beside her father while the camera began flashing.

She smiled politely, the sort of smile one learned after years of being photographed for family portraits. Not too large. Not too small. Approachable. Dignified.

Entirely fabricated.

The photographer asked them to move slightly closer together. Then slightly closer again. Then, somehow, closer than they had ever stood naturally in their lives.

June felt her father suppress a sigh.

"Perfect," the man replied. "You'll see it tomorrow with our printed review. Have a good night, Mr. Selwyn!"

June smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her sleeve as the photographer moved on in search of more important people.

The pair made their way inside to their seats, a few of the producers stopping Phinehas to shake his hand and congratulate him. His smile felt a bit too forced as he replied with simple "Thanks" and "Can't wait to see how it turns out".

When they finally sat, Phinehas sat unusually still.

June's father was not a particularly still person. He paced while writing. He gestured while talking. He drummed his fingers while reading. Even during meals there was usually some sign that his thoughts were three sentences ahead of everyone else's.

Tonight, there was nothing. He sat with the program folded neatly in his lap and stared toward the curtain as though looking away might somehow change the outcome.

June found herself smiling faintly. Not too long ago this had been parchment scattered across a desk. Now there were hundreds of people waiting for the curtain to rise.

She took her father's hand and squeezed it, his nervous gaze turning to see her. June gave a small smile and nodded, as if to say "It's going to be alright".

Phinehas gave a small smile and nodded back, squeezing her hand in return, as if to say "Thanks."

The house lights dimmed, and the final conversations dissolved into silence.

Then the curtain opened, and the orchestra began playing the overture.

June had expected to spend the evening comparing the performance to the script. She expected to notice changes, to critique, to, quite frankly, see how it measured up to reading the source material yourself.

Instead, everything fell away.

Not right away, of course. The first few scenes still carried the familiar sensation of recognition. June knew what lines were coming. She knew where pauses had been added. She knew which jokes had survived rehearsals and which had disappeared somewhere between draft seven and opening night.

But slowly, almost without noticing, she stopped comparing.

The actress playing Isolde was mostly responsible for that. Liora Marsh... Mar... June checked her program. Liora Marwood, that was it. June had met her twice now, briefly, but she was unrecognizable on stage, completely engulfed by her character.

June always had a soft spot for the character of Isolde on paper, but on stage, she was magnetic.

Every now and then, June glanced sideways at her father to see how he was reacting. The first time, Phinehas looked tense. The second time, cautiously optimistic. The third time, a smile had appeared. And not the polite smile he had worn just moments ago when they were photographed. Not the tired smile that had become more common in recent years.

June could not remember the last time she had seen this smile.

For the remaining hour of the show, he seemed younger. Lighter. Less burdened by the thousand concerns that usually occupied space behind his eyes.

The final act arrived much sooner than she wanted it to, and by then June had stopped thinking about the script and original story entirely.

Isolde commanded the stage with such confidence that June occasionally forgot there was an actress at all. The final confrontation landed exactly as it needed to. The final revelations drew gasps from audience members who had spent the entire evening convinced they knew where the show was going.

And then came the last line, a beat, and the curtain fell.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Then the room erupted, the audience standing as applause thundered through the theatre.

The orchestra began playing as the actors emerged for their bows, followed by more applause.

The cast looked overwhelmed with a mix of emotions: joy, relief, pride; several appeared moments away from tears.

June laughed despite the tightness gathering in her throat and continued applauding so hard her palms stung.

When the house lights came up once more, and the crowd finally began to disperse, the theatre transformed once again. Audience members filled the aisles. Congratulations flowed freely. Actors emerged from backstage in various states of exhaustion and exhilaration, sweat dripping from their foreheads as their stage makeup became frighteningly apparent up close.

Phinehas made it approximately three steps before being stopped. One of the producers caught him first. Then a journalist. Then an elderly witch with a copy of the Drainmuss and Death book in hand who apparently had opinions about the second act and absolutely refused to leave before sharing them.

June watched the growing crowd around her father with growing amusement.

The bouquets they had purchased earlier was tucked beneath his arm, increasingly crushed every time another well-wisher shook his hand. Phinehas caught her eye, "Junie," he called when a brief opening finally appeared in the crowd. "Mind delivering these for me?" He carefully transferred the flowers into her arms. June nodded, the pair had decided to buy flowers for each of the leads, as well as the director.

June found the director first, which was fortunate, as the man looked as though he had not sat down in several months. Whatever chaos had existed behind the curtain had remained behind the curtain, which June suspected was the highest compliment a director could receive.

The other leads were easier to find after that, mostly because they were still being approached by people. She waited through each conversation with polite patience, then offered the flowers and her congratulations when space opened. Eventually, only Liora Marwood remained.

She stood near the edge of the stage, still partially in costume. June waited her turn, watching the lead navigate through each interaction with a genuine poise she hadn't quite seen before. When she finally stepped forward, the actress blinked in surprise as June offered the flowers. "A gift from the Selwyns for you," June said with a small smile. "Or for Isolde. I'm honestly not sure where one ends and the other begins at this point." Liora laughed, and June found herself laughing softly back.

"You were brilliant," she continued. "It's like I was experiencing the story for the first time again." Liora looked down at the bouquet before looking back up, visibly touched.

June stayed only a few minutes longer before eventually making her way through the crowd in search of her father.

The theatre had become a bit emptier now, and June spotted a few familiar faces from Penwick and exchanged polite greetings with them, the sort of empty small talk expected of people who don't know each other well (or, if a friend shows up, then she of course spends a great deal of time talking with them until saying she needs to go find her father again).

Eventually she spotted Phinehas in the lobby of the theatre. Or rather, she spotted the back of his head. He was no longer trapped by journalists or producers. Instead, he was standing beside Liora Marwood, holding the bouquet June had given her just minutes ago, already in deep in conversation.

June slowed her pace slightly. Phinehas was gesturing animatedly about something, which meant he had finally relaxed enough to speak freely. Liora laughed at whatever he said, her cheeks still flushed from the stage lights.

June watched the exchange for a moment.

Rather than interrupt, she quietly changed direction and headed toward the theatre doors. Whatever enchanted magic the theatre had done to her had worn off, and she realized she did, in fact, have a few critiques to give on the show. Not many, but still. The magic of the moment had passed.

The March air greeted her immediately as she stepped outside. Behind her, the sounds of celebration still drifted through the open entrance. There would be an afterparty, but June wouldn't attend. Her father had asked her earlier if she wanted to, and then her answer was "maybe".

It wasn't "maybe" anymore.

If anyone wants to join and say they attended opening night, feel free. June would have put up posters around the school advertising it

If you'd like a longer interaction with June, please message me first! Otherwise, feel free to lightly godmod her.

Write whatever you want about the play, but here are the main takeaways:
- The lead characters are Isolde and Alaric
- The play is somewhat of a mystery drama, with the ending reframing the entire story

Go nuts. Or don't and this thread will stay a solo forever. I don't mind.