A/N: Alright, so this used to belong to Rainbowstripes but she let me take it over. The first two chapters will basically remain the same, with only minor editing.

The students and staff of Hogwarts were sitting at their tables, waiting for Dumbledore's announcement to begin the welcoming feast. The aged man stood up and silence fell.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. I would like to remind you that the Forbidden Forest is just that, forbidden. It is not the sparkly rainbow forest as Messrs Potter, Weasley, Weasley and Granger declared last year."

He said with an amused glare towards the quartet at the Gryffindor table, who gave the school innocent looks.

"Also, the usual list of forbidden items is on the door of Mr. Filch's office. And finally, as our newly instated drama club has been going so well, I have found a cast willing to come to Hogwarts and put on a performance. They are one of the top acting groups in the Muggle West End, but are actually a mix of wizards, witches, squibs and Muggles, who go by the name 'The Lightning Squad'. They will be arriving in a month, and staying for a few days. I will say more closer to the time of their arrival. Now, tuck in!"

He called over the excited whispers. The tables filled with food and people immediately dug in, talking furiously to each other about the arriving actors. No one saw Dumbledore give Harry Potter an almost invisible wink, and receive one in return.

"So, Harry, I know you're not in drama, but what do you think about this acting troupe? I wonder what they'll be performing! Maybe we'll get to put on a play for them! I've seen them perform once, last Christmas; they did a really good version of The Phantom of the Opera. The Phantom was really young, but he was amazing."

Hermione gushed to the two amused boys.

"Whoa. Breathe, Hermione. Why don't you wait a month until they're actually here. Harry, haven't you got one of your lessons with Dumbledore tonight?"

Ron asked through a mouthful of roast beef. Harry nodded, gulping down some pumpkin juice.

"Yeah, if I'm back late, don't worry about it. So, how were your summers?"

He asked, steering the conversation onto safer grounds. After he defeated Voldemort in his 5th year, he'd been living with Remus, and occasionally Sirius when he wasn't hunting for Pettigrew. It was only this summer that he'd caught the rat, proving himself innocent. Since then, he'd stayed permanently with Harry and Remus, and had started a relationship with the emerald-eyed teen now that Harry was of legal age.

The 7th years finished their dinner and parted ways, Harry to the headmaster's office and the others to Gryffindor tower.

Harry muttered the password, "Fainting fancies", and rode the staircase up to the office. He opened the door to find the headmaster already behind his desk, sucking on a lemon drop. The old wizard grinned when the teen walked in.

"Ah, Harry, I trust you liked my announcement?"

He asked. Harry smirked at him.

"Yes, I just wish David had told me we were going to perform here. They're all going to recognize me, you know."

He pointed out, collapsing over 'his chair' (He was in there so much they had actually christened his favorite chair and carved his name on it, as they had with his favorite Hospital Wing bed) and running a hand through his hair.

Dumbledore's grin widened.

"Is that a bad thing? Think about it, you're already on thin ice with your friends because they think you don't like them doing drama when you can't watch some of their plays."

"I'm sorry, but they admit they've butchered it slightly for the purebloods, but they haven't. They've completely mutilated it! I just can't stand to watch people wreck such good pieces of drama. You know that as well as I do."

He admitted. Dumbledore nodded sagely.

"I know. Also, you won't have to keep sneaking off under the guise of lessons with me. Plus, you can take off your glamour, I don't know why you didn't do that in the first place, but each to his own, I guess."

He shrugged.

Harry knew he was talking about the glamour that kept him looking like a pale, scrawny teen, when in reality he was tanned and sculpted.

Harry smirked.

"Aww, but it'll be so fun shocking them, just give me an alibi for the week when I'm rehearsing, then I'll let them know at the end of the play. By the way, got a favorite you'd like us to perform? Please say something, or David will have us doing Saturday Night Fever, and I hate my character in that."

He pleaded.

Dumbledore chuckled.

"I've always been rather fond of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, but I really don't mind, so long as it is…appropriate for the younger years."

He said with a twinkle in his eye.

Harry slapped his thigh.

"Damn, no Full Monty then, shame, I'm sure a lot of people would have enjoyed that." He teased.

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling, before Harry pulled out a pendant with a lightening bolt on it, the symbol for his acting group, and waved to the headmaster.

"I'll see you in a few hours." He said.

"Good luck with your performance." The headmaster replied as Harry disappeared.

Three hours later, Fawkes and his master looked up as a tired Harry Potter landed back in a chair in the office.

Albus smiled.

"Ah, there you are, my boy, how did it go?" He asked, summoning a glass of water for the young man, who drank it gratefully.

"Great, they loved us, although I did hear some comments from a few ladies that a 17 year old should not be doing that, especially not on stage." He said with a wry grin.

"Oh, and what were you performing tonight that you shouldn't be?" The Professor asked amusedly.

"Dirty Dancing, I was Johnny." Harry replied, earning a raised eyebrow from his companion.

"I see, well, I'd better let you rest then. Goodnight."

Harry nodded to Dumbledore and left the office, strolling down to his Head Boy's rooms where he knew Ron and Hermione would be waiting up for him, considering Hermione was Head Girl and Ron either slept with her or on the sofa in the common room most nights. Sure enough, he opened his portrait to find the two sitting by the fire, Ron playing chess against himself and Hermione reading a book. They looked up as he sprawled over an armchair.

"Hey mate, how'd it go?" Ron asked, looking up from where a white pawn was being smashed to pieces.

"Great, I'm really tired though, I get worked really hard during these lessons." He said.

It was only a half lie, he did get worked hard, but he was performing. Hermione gave him an eager look.

"Harry, you have to tell me some of the things you learned! Please!" She begged.

Harry inwardly rolled his eyes but grinned at his honorary sister.

"Later, 'Mi, I'm going to bed. Don't stay up too late you two." He said, a sly grin on his face.

He ducked a pillow to the head and darted up the stairs to his room.