Secrets of an 8th year witch

Chapter 4: The Theatre

Hermione awoke bright and early the next morning, dragged Emma out of bed, prepared breakfast and set off to the theatre. Emma, her green eyes still bleary with sleep, stepped out of the car and pulled a box of supplies from the trunk, grunting from the weight. Lifting the box high above her head, she marched into the theatre, closely followed by Catherine, who held two parcels of her own.

Upon entering the theatre, Hermione was greeted by a blast of cold air, courtesy of a charm Lyra had set in the room to keep cool. The theatre exceeded her expectations; it was large, with row upon row of black, velvet seats, and a grand stage. On the ceiling sat an intricate projector which she knew was used during movie premiers. Beneath it, Elisé was being fitted into a simple blue coloured frock with sleeves that flared outwards at the elbows- a perfect match to Eliza's dress. Across the room was Emma, already clad in a pastel yellow dress, singing the words, "AND PEGGY!" loud and clear, the words ringing out through the room.

Lyra, clad in Angelica's coral pink costume, stood with an elderly woman who reminded her of Professor McGonagall dressed in crisply cut cloths and her grey hair pulled into a tight bun, her simply spectacles perched elegantly on her nose. She nodded at whatever Lyra said, her gaze fixing on Hermione. She lifted her arm and crooked her finger in a come, gesture.

As she swept though the groups of actors, Hermione saw Catherine carefully pinning Nic's sleeve in place, scolding him to stay still. Beside him, Lucas squirmed in his costume, his long hair pulled into its usual ponytail. 

Lyra stopped speaking as Hermione approached. "Hermione- glad you could make it. This is Madam Renée; she's the club chairperson." Madam Renée gave her a wry smile. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. Your cousins have told me much about you." Hermione grinned. "Knowing Emma, I won't be surprised if you knew my whole life story." The elder woman chuckled. "Oh!" Hermione turned to Lyra. "I want to show you the studio!"

She waved farewell to Madam Renée and let Lyra sweep her backstage. Hermione glanced around. It was- disappointing. Tall columns of metal surrounded by large spotlights- and other then that, she was met with large, blank, walls. "It's not what you expected, right?" She turned to see Lyra, studying her expression. "I thought it was kind of sad when I first saw it too- but the studio is a lot better, you'll see."

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"Woah." Lyra laughed at her expression. "Satisfied?" Hermione wasn't sure if it was genuine or a pun coming from Lyra dressed up as Angelica. But she let her astonishment show on her face as she took in the room before her. 

It was a simple room, the walls and floor lined with planks of wood. But every inch of the walls were either splattered in paint or covered with murals and depictions. Shelves that were mounted on the wall held jars and bottles of paints, rags, and brushes- and there was a back room which she knew contained as many materials as an artist could imagine. And on the wall in front of  her were names. Some in elegant script, some in messy block letters, and a few in bubbly letters, covering the wall.

"The names of person that was ever in the club," Lyra said proudly. "At the end of your first summer, you paint your name on the wall. It's a kinda sad, but thats what we have." "It's perfect," Hermione said. She turned. "When do we start?" Lyra's face broke into a grin.