In which we pass our OWLs with flying colours, meet some old friends, a new friend, share pieces of cow, and experience The Cursed Child. I also meet a woefully confused bartender and a wonderfully skilled bartender, and take delivery of a lot of confectionery.

I think that it’s fair to say that today was the day that the wean was most looking forward to. Today, we were going to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. For those that don’t know, this is a play that tells a story set in Harry Potter’s future as a grown-up with kids. It’s a long play, a two-parter, in fact. Part One is a matinee starting at 2:00pm, then you have about 2 ½ hrs for dinner before returning for Part Two at 7:30pm. Quite a full day in itself, but not quite full enough. So we decided to take our OWLs (Ordinary Wizarding Levels) in the morning.

We took OWLs in six subjects – Arithmancy, History of Magic, Ancient Runes, Potions, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts – which were combined into a single, one-hour practical exam. We did rather well, and wrapped up the tests in about 41 minutes, apparently the third fastest time at this particular testing center, and possibly the only ones to do so with no clues. The testing center in question was run by Enigma Quests, who also train bank robbers in a different room. We’re going to give that a shot on Friday 🙂

Having finished our exams a little early, we had a few extra minutes for a quick lunch before heading off to the Palace Theatre which plays home to The Cursed Child. There we met up with the rest of our crew, friends old and new. In order of appearance: Vinay, Rueben, Martin, and Imran. Two of these three go waaaaaaaay back; one goes back a few years; and the other was a first time introduction. Martin is, in fact, my oldest (longest?) friend: I’m both delighted and horrified to say that it’s been 35 years. And when he arrived, he handed me a gift bag with a suspicious looking and suspiciously heavy brown box in it, with the explanation of “Happy Birthday!” Not to be opened immediately, ideally. Of course, there was the matter of theatre security…

Some few minutes later, we went to enter the theatre. Those with bags had to present them for inspection. I placed my birthday gift on the table, looked the nice gent right in the eye and said “This is a birthday gift that I literally just received from him [pointing] and have absolutely no idea what’s in it. But he’s a respectable politician, so I’m sure that it’s fine.”

The look of amused bemusement and uncertainty was quite wonderful to watch. But he recovered quickly and Martin stepped in to assist. He whispered what it was, which prompted the response “And it’s that heavy?” “Well, it’s a lot of it,” was the explanation, but the security chap remained… aghast is really the word I’m looking for. Sadly, he did have to crack open the box, which contained strips of paper padding surrounding the grease-proof paper wrapped contents. To be fair, it was about this time that Martin realized that this did look a little odd. Not least of all because the contents were dense slabs of sugar-laden goodness.

Tablet. Home-made tablet. About 1.5Kg (3.3lbs) of home-made tablet.

[Now that the cat was out of the bag… or tablet out of the box, once we had our seats, it only seemed polite to try some. Which we did. Dear gods it’s magnificent. And there’s still some left! Let’s see how long that lasts…]

Right, so, having cleared security, we entered the theatre. We were in two groups: the wean plus one in the second row, and the remaining six towards the back of the stalls. For Part One, the wean chose momma as her partner, so the rest of us split off to our seats, stopping to pick up a snack and, in my case, a drink. This was where, for the first time in my life, I had to explain what a martini was to a bartender.

I walked up to the bar, examined the list of specialty cocktails, but decided on just a martini. I wasn’t fussed whether it was gin or vodka, so I left it up to them to decide. The young lady taking my order seemed new-ish, so she called on her more experienced colleague fore help ringing it up. I received my surprisingly small drink, took a sip and realized that what I’d received was a measure of extra dry vermouth. “Martini” brand extra dry vermouth. I pointed this out to the young lady, who’d realized that something was wrong, and she turned back to her colleague. He informed me that, no this was a martini. I countered with “The brand is Martini, but it’s just straight vermouth.” The young lady asked what I had been expecting, and I explained either vodka or gin, with a little dry vermouth added. Now, she seemed to realize what this was, but her ‘more experienced’ colleague insisted that such a drink did not exist in the UK, and that serving straight extra dry vermouth was perfectly normal thankyouverymuch. When I pressed a little on his assertion that martinis were unknown in the UK – amused far more than anything else – he informed me that “over here” [hackles rise] we only do things like espresso martinis, and you have to ask for them that way. I refrained from informing him that that would be a dessert drink, and simply pointed out that a standard martini was really something of an internationally renowned cocktail that I have successfully ordered in several countries, including “over here.” I then dropped the amusement to point out that I was in fact from “over here,” to which he went mostly silent. Now, in the mean time, the young lady had offered me options to add to the vermouth (neither vodka nor gin were options, sadly), so I opted for some lemonade, which she took care of handily, apologetically, and quite professionally. Her idiot colleague really should have just kept his mouth shut. 

I climbed the few steps to where my party had been watching this confusing interaction without overhearing, and I explained briefly what had transpired. There was much confusion as to the issue, comments from the tea-totalers that even they knew what I’d meant, and several references to a certain secret agent were made. What made us all laugh was that the poor gent manning the snacks counter beside us remarked “If it’s any consolation, I know how to make a martini, but, well…” and gestured forlornly at the bags of candy in front of him. We all assured him that he was likely to be promoted to the bar area very soon.

We took our seats, I drank by ridiculously sweet and dry concoction, we ate some tablet, and then the show started.

I’m not going to detail the show – there is an entire campaign of sorts to encourage audience members to “Keep the Secrets!” – but I will say that it was fantastic. The staging of the magical effects was quite brilliant – Polyjuice potion and entrance to the Ministry of Magic being my two favourites – and the performances really quite good. Scorpious stole the show, in my opinion, with a physicality that left his fellow performers in the dust. The actor playing the grown-up Harry was doing a stellar job while battling a cold, which I think damped his performance just a little, but not a lot. That said, I did have one lasting issue with that particular actor: the guy just looked SO like Steven Colbert. I mean, it was uncanny, at least to my eye.

Part One finished, and we adjourned to Tredwells for dinner. I highly recommend this restaurant. The service was excellent, the staff very friendly and polite, the food amazing (one of the best steaks I’ve had in years), and their bartenders a joy to watch. We started at the bar as we were about 25 mins early for our reservation. Eight people walk into a bar… and one of them, with a strange Scottish-American hybrid accent, asks their bartender “If I were to ask you for a martini, what would you say?” Seven heads turn. Without flinching, the bartender responded “I’d say vodka or gin.” There’s a general cheer of approval and I thank him earnestly. We order some wonderful cocktails, then head up for our meal. Said meal is scoffed, payment is made, and we head back to the theatre in nice time to take our seats just before the curtain goes up. The tablet went largely unmolested on entry, this time.

For Part Two, I was given the seat of honour next to the wean, and we marveled at the show. The second part is a lot more intense, and one of the last scenes in particular is just gut-wrenching. I think it helps being invested in the universe and characters already, but it’s also written well enough to be a good stand-alone show for those without much or any prior knowledge of the Potterverse.

The show wrapped up at about 10:00pm, and we had about an hour travel time to get home. So all parties took their leaves of one another and headed off in their respective directions. The wean slept the sleep of the very very happy.