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Hermione was in the library, trying to get caught up on her homework. She never should have agreed to be Stage Manager for this play, but McGonagall had asked, and she never liked disappointing McGonagall.
A bang of books went down across from her, and she sighed. "What is it, Riddle?"
"The soothsayer. That whole part needs to be removed."
"Riddle, I can't remove that. 'Beware the Ides of March' is famous. It'd be like asking me to remove 'Et tu, Brute?'"
"If Julius Caesar hears a soothsayer telling him to Beware the Ides of March then why is he wandering around in public on that date? Or why didn't he, I don't know, change the calendar to skip ahead to April or something? He's not a stupid man! Why would he put his life in the hands of the fates when a CLEARLY GIVEN PROPHECY warned him otherwise?"
Hermione sighed, and put her hand out onto Riddle's hand. "Riddle… Tom… I know you're in NEWT divination, but Julius Caesar is not Tom Riddle. He isn't a wizard. He doesn't understand divination. He thinks the man is just a drunk beggar or something. It's put in there for foreshadowing for the audience."
"But then, later you have Walburga Black wailing that he's going to be killed."
"Not Walburga, Calpurnia. Caesar's wife."
"Walburga is also in NEWT Divination, plus the Blacks are known for producing Seers!"
"Calpurnia is not Walburga Black. She's a Roman muggle. She's having dreams."
"So why does Caesar go to the Senate?!"
"Because one of the conspirators convinces him they will offer him a crown. It's right there in the text."
"Right. I knew I shouldn't have trusted Snape…" Tom muttered. "Now, about the stabbing scene… don't you think it would be more dramatic if there was real blood? I know a spell I could cast wordlessly that can do that."
Hermione gave him a flat stare. "Is it dark magic?"
Tom looked away. "... Maybe…"
"If you get Professor McGonagall's permission, you can do it. Otherwise, we're using the muggle methods for special effects."
"What about the part where I'm lying there dead for ages? I was thinking that Brutus could give me a last kiss with a few drops of Draught of Living Death on his lips."
"... Tom Riddle, you know that potion is called Last Resort by healers, because it's the last thing they will do if they have no other chance to save their patient? Yes, it puts a stopper in Death, but it isn't guaranteed that the patient will actually come back!"
"I'm just not sure I can hold still that long," Tom said, giving her his best puppy dog eyes.
"Ugh! Harry can kiss you a few drops of Calming Draught," Hermione said, tugging at her hair.
Tom inwardly cheered. He'd gotten the kiss! Which was the point of the whole exercise.
"How about my Ghost scene? I think Caesar would have a lot more to say to Harry, er, Brutus. Like 'I'll see you at Philippi, and then we'll be reconciled forever, my dear.'" And he can skate his hand along Harry's cheek, with a longing look in one another's eyes…
"Oh for fuck sakes, Tom, for a genius, you can be so stupid! Just ask him out!" Hermione huffed, scooping up her books. "He'll be getting out of Quidditch practice in twenty minutes."