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Theatre ch.4
🕑 Added 2024-06-02 22:09:21 +0000 UTCNarcissa was reading an issue of National Geographic in the waiting room, one leg crossed over the other and a few strands of hair falling forward onto her neckline. Harry smiled when he met her gaze. He still felt good after the session, as if every step and movement were lighter than before.
"How was it, honey?" asked his stepmom.
"Good," he replied. "I think she's the right therapist for me."
Dr. Apolline joined them at the edge of the door. "May we have a word, Mrs. Potter?" she asked.
"Yes, of course," Narcissa replied. She stood up, leaned forward to smooth her dress, and then followed Dr. Apolline into her office, closing the door behind her.
Alone in the waiting room, Harry began to process the experience. It was as if an image had been created from what were previously blurry dots. He now understood why sex was at the center of so much of society, why it drove people to do things, both good and bad.
Of course, he had masturbated before. But it never felt like what he had just done with Dr. Apolline. The difference was black and white. He felt like he had tasted something transcendent, and his mind was racing with ideas of how to get more of it.
Harry thought about the state he had been in that morning, locked in his room, gaming and avoiding the outside world. He shuddered at the thought of going back to that state.
His stepmother and Dr. Apolline were in the therapist's room for at least ten minutes, possibly much longer. Harry had no sense of time. When the door finally opened, and his stepmom walked through it, she didn't meet his gaze. Her face was red, and one of her hands fidgeted along the hem of her dress.
"I have open slots in my schedule throughout next week," Dr. Apolline said. "For Harry, I think it's best if..." Dr. Apolline started to say.
"We'll call if we need to schedule another appointment!" Narcissa's voice was sharp and more than a little intense. She smiled politely at Dr. Apolline and nearly pulled Harry out of the office, not bothering to say anything to him until they were on the stairwell.
"stepmom," he said, wincing slightly internally. "Is everything alright?"
"Yes, honey," she replied. "Everything is fine. It's just..."
She glanced at him and blushed. "We'll talk more about it in the car!" she said.
His stepmom walked quickly, keeping a few feet between them, almost as a buffer against what was bothering her. They both exited the building and got into the car. Narcissa sighed and slid the key into the ignition without turning it.
"Dr. Apolline told me..." She paused, biting her lip slightly. "She said that the two of you engaged in... unconventional treatment."
It was Harry's turn to blush. Hearing the tone in her voice, he felt embarrassed about what had happened, even though, during and immediately after, it had been nothing short of amazing.
"Yes, she did," Harry said. "But stepmom, as crazy as it sounds, I think she might be onto something."
Narcissa scoffed and shook her head. She started the car and pulled onto the street with more acceleration than was probably necessary.
"I didn't realize the treatment would be..." She trailed off again, as if even describing masturbation and sex in the vaguest terms was too dirty for her.
"Everything was fine, stepmom," Harry said. "She's a professional. She knows what she's doing, and I think it helped me."
His stepmother made a frustrated sound. She slowed the car, stopping at a crosswalk, and looked at him, frowning.
"Honey, what she's doing is borderline illegal." She reached over and placed her hand on his thigh in a gesture that was meant to be loving. "I don't think this is the right approach."
"But stepmom, I felt so, uh, I mean, it was really effective," Harry said. "I think with a few more sessions, I could..."
"There are other things that can help you!" his stepmom snapped. "You're not seeing this clearly. You're a teenage boy, and to you, what just happened was probably..."
Once again, Narcissa's internal struggles interrupted her mid-sentence. She squeezed Harry's thigh gently, then withdrew her hand as the traffic light turned green.
"I can't think of anything else that works this way," Harry said. "What am I supposed to do instead? Take pills? Go to group therapy? stepmom, I feel like this could help me heal!"
His stepmother sighed. She said nothing, and the car filled with tense silence. Harry leaned back and stared out the window, feeling his body relax as they drove down the street toward their house. He frowned as his stepmom kept driving past their home.
"stepmom?" he asked. "That was our..."
"I know, honey," she said. "We're not going home yet."
She smiled and reached into her purse, pulling out a small brochure and handing it to him. Harry glanced at the front. It was a brochure for Godric's Hollow Players, a local theater group in town.
"Uh... what's this?" he asked.
"They're having auditions for a summer play," stepmom said.
"And?"
Narcissa took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You need to step out of your comfort zone, Harry," she said. "I realize that... you enjoyed what happened in that woman's office. But that's not going to be anything more than a short-term solution to a long-term problem."
Harry disagreed with her on this, but he didn't say so.
"stepmom, I'm not an actor," he said. "I'm not even an aspiring actor."
"When you were younger, you acted all the time, honey."
"Yes, when I was like five years old." Harry shook his head. "This isn't going to help."
"I think auditioning for a role, whether you get it or not, will do more for you than any of Dr. Apolline's therapy, if you can even call it that."
There was a surprisingly passionate venom in Narcissa's voice. Harry couldn't understand why. She was his stepmother, and Dr. Apolline was his therapist. It was her idea to invite him to the session in the first place. Harry sighed.
"Okay, whatever," he said.
"Come on, Harry," his stepmom said. "Don't be like that."
"I'm only doing this because you won't let it go, stepmom."
She slowed the car as they approached the Godric's Hollow Players' theater, which was just half a mile from their house. The parking lot was empty except for one car, and she pulled into the spot closest to the door.
"Harry..." Narcissa turned to look at him, her eyes full of emotion. "I love you. And I care about you getting better, more than you realize."
"I know, stepmom," he said.
"Just try," she said. "And try other things. And just keep trying. It will help you get better. There is no magic button that will make you love life."
Harry nodded, though in the back of his mind, he remembered the pleasure of being in front of Dr. Apolline, listening to her voice, feeling her hand on him. "I know," he said. "You're right."
She nodded at him.
"The auditions aren't until tomorrow, but it looks like the director is already here," she said. "You can get a copy of the script and practice your lines until late at night."
Harry nodded and unbuckled his seatbelt. A thought crossed his mind, and he raised an eyebrow at his mom.
"Did you ever have an interest in theater when you were younger?" he asked.
"Yes, though the family didn't approve," his stepmom replied. "Why?"
Harry chuckled. "No reason," he said. "Okay, I'll do it."
—
Harry got out of the car and was slightly surprised to see his stepmom also stepping out. She bent forward to adjust her sandal as she walked around, giving a glimpse of cleavage as her dress shifted slightly.
"Are you coming in too?" he asked.
"Well, yes," she replied. "To talk to the director and see the old stage. It's been over a decade since I was last inside."
"Are you thinking of auditioning for a role?" Harry asked. His stepmom scoffed and shook her head.
"No, no," she said. "My acting days are long behind me."
Harry nodded and started walking towards the entrance. The Godric's Hollow Players' theater was a large building, at least by the standards of their small town. It had three floors and large wooden double doors at the front. Next to them was a large corkboard, protected from the rain by the porch overhang, covered in advertisements and brochures for various plays and productions.
The doors were open. On the other side was a small lobby with a ticket booth and a few restrooms. Beyond that was another set of doors, leading into the theater itself.
Harry had been inside a few times before, mostly for school events and non-theatrical occasions. The space could seat at least a few hundred people. The aisles sloped downward, and the stage, despite its floor needing some refurbishment, looked quite professional.
Thick curtains hung on either side and at the back, and Harry could see spacious areas where the cast could wait in the wings. Along the back wall was also a small hatch, painted to match the floor, probably another entrance for actors.
A woman sat in one of the seats closest to the stage, holding a clipboard and pen, focused on something. Harry glanced at his stepmom, who smiled at him and then began walking down the aisle towards the woman.
"Hi," he said. "Are you the director by any chance?"
The woman flinched slightly as Harry's voice broke her concentration. She stood up and squinted to see them better in the dimly lit auditorium.
"Yes," she said. "I understand you're another prospective actor looking for a role?"
"I suppose so," he replied. "My name is Harry Potter."
As he got closer, he could see more details. The woman was quite attractive and about the same age as his stepmom. She had large breasts and nice curves, bordering on sensuality, if not for the fact that her waist was slim and everything was well-proportioned. Her skin was darkly tanned, and her hair was black and shoulder-length.
"Bellatrix?" Narcissa stopped a few steps before reaching the woman.
"Oh my God, Narcissa," the woman said. "Is that you?"
For a moment, neither of the women said anything. Harry stood between them, feeling a bit awkward.
"Uh..." he said, more to break the silence than anything else. "Do you two know each other?"
"Yes," Narcissa replied. "We know each other. She is my stepsister."
In Harry's stepmother's voice, there was something that indicated she wasn't entirely pleased with reuniting with the other woman. He looked over his shoulder and saw that she was frowning slightly.
"It's been so long," said Bellatrix. "All this time, and you haven't changed a bit."
The way Bellatrix spoke made the statement sound almost like an accusation.
"You haven't changed either, Bellatrix," Narcissa said. "And now you're the director here? You had such aspirations, and wasn't it you who told my parents I was sneaking out to the theater?"
"Yes, well, what can I say," Bellatrix replied. "After the ministry annulled the marriage contract, they didn't quite believe in my innocence. They restricted my spell casting, teleportation, and even ordered me to work with Muggles."
"It looks like that decision paid off," Narcissa said. "The Godric's Hollow Players. Are you planning an international tour anytime soon?"
"Are you here for an audition?" Bellatrix asked. "I'm sure we could find a backstage role that suits you."
Harry cleared his throat as forcefully as he could manage.
"As I mentioned before," he interrupted, "I'm the one interested in auditioning. I just came to introduce myself and pick up the script, if that's possible."
It took Bellatrix a moment to divert her attention from Narcissa. She was wearing a pair of tight jeans and a loose white blouse with ruffles at the bottom. She smiled at Harry and motioned for him to come closer.
"Hmm..." Bellatrix slowly circled him, her eyes scanning his body. "Well, I think I could indeed find something for you."
Behind them, Narcissa made a frustrated sound and stepped a bit closer.
"Have you ever done any acting before, Harry?" Bellatrix asked. He shook his head.
"So," Bellatrix said, "this would be your first time?"
She stepped closer to him, standing just a few inches away. She was slightly shorter than Harry, but not by much, and she looked him in the eyes with an intensity that made the room feel warmer.
"Yes," Harry said. "First time."
"In that case..." Bellatrix reached for her chair and picked up the packet she had been looking at. "Here is the script."
She pressed it to Harry's chest, letting one of her fingers trail along his shirt. Behind them, his stepmom made another impatient sound.
"This is the one I've been using," Bellatrix said. "It's already full of notes and scribbles, my personal thoughts."
"Alright," Harry said.
"You can take it if you want," she said. "And keep it for yourself."
Harry slowly nodded. For some reason, her words felt compelling, as if she were casting a spell on him.
"Is there anything else Harry should know?" Narcissa asked, her voice stern.
"Auditions are tomorrow, Harry," Bellatrix said. "You're handsome enough that I think you could get any role, provided you learn your lines."
"Really?" Harry asked.
"Well, you might have to butter me up a bit first," Bellatrix whispered. Narcissa stomped her foot, but Harry pretended not to notice.
"Alright," he said. "I'll be here tomorrow then."
"I can't wait to see what you have to offer, Harry," Bellatrix said. She glanced back at Narcissa. "It was nice to see you, Narcissa. You should consider what I said about helping out. We could always use another stagehand or someone to check tickets at the door."
Harry watched as his stepmother fumed. She walked up to him, grabbed his hand firmly, and started pulling him up the aisle.
"Goodbye, Harry," Bellatrix called out. He wasn't sure, but he thought he heard the sound of her blowing a kiss.
