The music swelled around me, lifting and falling, weaving, and my body fluidly followed. Veering and bending, I closed my eyes, letting the music control my movements and thoughts like I let nothing else do.
As the melody lifted upward, my arms twisted and reached, meeting it note for note, and I collapsed in a heap of exhaustion on the ground with the final notes.
A smile spread across my face as my eyes slid closed, enjoying the complete peace of mind that I got from dancing.
"Hermione? You have to be done, it's nearly time to leave for dinner!" my mother shouted up the stairs.
I huffed in irritation as the thoughts that had been plaguing my mind for the past few days slowly crept like vines into the little cracks that my mother's interruption had made in my calm sphere.
I rose from my prone position and began to peal off my point shoes, wincing as the pain from the blisters on my toes and heals began to finally hit me. I really shouldn't dance for this long, I'm barely going to be able to walk tomorrow! I thought with resignation. A major downside of my escape? Messed up feet and sore muscles.
I'm Hermione Granger, full-time student and geek at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Something no one knows about me though, is my love of ballet. It's a hard secret to keep, especially when your two best friends are practically the most amazing people in the world. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley are like my brothers, but because they prefer the "manly" sport of quidditch, I decided that I should just keep the ballet obsession thing on the down low around them.
This posed to be a larger problem than I had originally expected, and so now the only time I get to do ballet is during the summer. At home. In my ATTIC, which is not air-conditioned. Psh, smart move on my part to put my studio up here, now I practically die from the damp, heavy, extremely HOT air.
I slowly got up and walked towards the door, grabbing the towel I left on the railing as I raced down the stairs to my bathroom to take a shower before dinner. I stripped my dance clothes off, tossed them in the washer, and got into the shower for a cold rinse. I yelped as the icy water hit me, because after the overwhelming heat of the studio, it was just damn cold!
"Hermione! You have five minutes! We have a reservation to make!" my mom's voice shouted up to me again.
"Coming!" I shouted back, as I scrambled out of the bathroom and into my room, my hair dripping water onto the floor. I dried my hair and grabbed the outfit that my mom had put on my bed earlier, and threw it on without even looking at it.
As I rushed out the door, hopping on one foot trying to get my shoe on, I caught a glimpse of myself in my mirror.
My hair fell around my face in damp curls, circling my pale, heart-shaped face in an unoriginal way. It was dark brown, like mud, as were my eyes. As I noticed my outfit, I sighed. It was my favorite purple dress that I never wore. Why didn't I ever wear it? For the very reason that I was gazing at right now.
The dress was stunning, elegant but simple, starkly colored and bold, yet not too eye-catching. On me it was never done justice, because there was no way that my plain features could ever live up to a dress like this. I tore my gaze away from the sad image, and rushed down the stairs before my mom had the chance to call me again.
"There you are! I was beginning to wonder if I'd get to even see my little girl for dinner before she headed off to school again!" my dad said, beaming. I rolled my eyes, but smiled. I was glad that my parent's and I would be able to have a nice dinner before I headed back to Hogwarts for the year. Between dancing and homework, I hadn't really gotten a chance to spend time with them.
I began to walk out the door towards the car when I heard my parents chuckling behind me. I spun around, my eyebrows raised, when I noticed their eyes on my feet. I followed their gazes down and realized, sure enough, my feet were standing in a perfectly turned out first position. I began to walk again, and to my horror not only was I turned out, but I'm sure I was walking just like a ballet dancer again. My shoulders were back, my chin was up, my tailbone was tucked under, and no matter what I did I couldn't stop walking with a turn out that practically shouted "Hey, look at me! I'm a dancer!"
I groaned, knowing that I would have to attempt to walk normally before tomorrow at school otherwise Harry and Ron would surely guess my summer activities. I started walking slower, concentrating on keeping my toes facing forward as I walked.
"Honey, why do you always correct yourself like that? Everyone knows you're a dancer, they'll understand," my dad questioned, clearly confused. I froze, remembering yet again that my parents didn't know that my friends had no idea I was a dancer. The wheels in my head turned as I tried to create an appropriate response without lying too badly.
"Um, well, you know Daddy, walking turned out is very bad for your knees! Yes, I cannot possibly be walking around school and have my knees hurting, can I?" My dad considered this for a moment and nodded. I was relieved that nothing else was mentioned as we got into the car and drove off to the restaurant.
Once we had gotten our table, my parents began the end of summer bombardment.
"What classes are you planning on taking, love?"
"I haven't given much thought to what I would do outside of the usual DADA, potions, transfiguration, and that sort of thing. Although, since it's our last year, I asked Professor McGonagall if she would consider adding a spontaneous class."
"Like what? Art?"
"I didn't really specify, but….I'm kind of hoping for some sort of dance class." My father laughed, shaking his head.
"I should've known," he said teasingly. I, being a mature young adult, stuck my tongue out at him.
Now it was my mom's turn for a question. "So, since we haven't had much of a chance to chat this summer, tell me….have you met an guys?" She sounded so sincere and hopeful, and was probably worried that since I studied so hard I would never find a nice guy to go out with.
I patiently repeated the same reply that I always used with this question, "No mom, all of the guys at my school are either friends, nuts, or jerks. There aren't really any potential boyfriend types."
"And that's okay for you not to find anyone until you are thirty-five, honey" my dad said supportively, although I knew behind his joking tone he was probably serious. What is it with fathers and the prospect of their daughters dating? It's not like he as anything to worry about though?
I internally wallowed in self-pity over my love life, or lack of, for a few moments, and then snapped out of it as my mom continued her rant about my lack of romance.
"What about that boy Ron? Didn't you used to like him? Or who was it….that Quidibit player or whatever it's called?"
"Mom, yes I liked Ron when I was ELEVEN, but now he's like my brother and that would be, well, disgusting. Almost like incest. And Viktor is long gone, we're just good friends now."
My mom looked at me sternly. "I just worry that you think about your studies so much that you don't get a chance to be a teenage girl! Wow, there's a sentence a mother doesn't get to say to her daughter very often…" I laughed at the last bit.
"Okay Mom, here's what I'll promise to make you feel better. You know how I'm Head Girl this year? Well, that gives me some power over what school activities can happen, and I'll push hard for the dances. Does that help? I can be a "normal" teenager there, just for you," I assured her, resigned on the inside at what I was promising. I really hated dances. All it was was an excuse for girls to get all dolled up for their boyfriends, while the rest of us singles just sat around the dance floor, feeling thoroughly embarrassed about coming without a date, and even more embarrassed at the prospect of asking someone to dance, for fear they might refuse. And the dresses and strappy heals that were expected to be worn were death traps in and of themselves! Stop thinking about that Hermione, you just promised your mother….
I barely cleared my mind of awkward dancing and spiked punch when my dad fired another question at me.
"So, honey, since you are Head Girl, have you put any thought into who might possibly be the Head Boy?"
"A little….I mean, there are so many guys that it could be. I'm sure it's not Ron though, because he is a bit of a troublemaker, and I also doubt that Dumbledore would have chosen the Head Boy and Girl from the same houses. I think it must be Ernie Macmillan; he's a nice guy. I'd rather live with him than any of the other prospects…." Draco Malfoy's pointed face and blonde hair flashed through my mind.
My father, who had been taking a sip of water while I was talking, nearly choked when I mentioned the living arrangement. "L-living with him?" he spluttered. "How can they allow that?" I sighed, once again dealing with my father's thinking that I was still a little girl.
"Daddy, technically we're all legal adults now. And its not a huge deal, its not like we're sharing a bedroom or anything, we just have the same common room." I heard him muttering to himself, but was glad that he decided not to pursue the subject. Although there was another reason I had withheld this particular information…
"Oh, sweetie! If you're living with this boy, things are bound to get a little personal. Is it common to have the Head Boy and Girl dating?" my mom asked excitedly. I placed my head in my hands, groaning, pressing my palms into my eyes in frustration.
"Can we please talk about something other than Hogwarts and romance? Please? I'll get enough of that when I'm back at school!" I exclaimed heatedly. My parents exchanged guilty looks and sat in silence for a little bit of time. "How about you guys tell me about work? Goodness knows I'm not going to hear about it for a long time. You can give me my full dose of work ranting before I leave!" I said, trying to ease the awkward silence. My mom smiled and then proceeded to just as I asked her.
The rest of the meal went similarly, with my parents trading random stories about the going on's at the office. It wasn't until after we had paid the check and were in the car on the way home that I heard them talking about anything other than work. I was drifting off to sleep in the back seat when I heard them whispering to each other.
"Do you think we should tell her about the letter?"…..and that was all I heard before my eyes became too heavy and my brain drifted off into dreamland. I faintly remembered my father lifting me out of the car and placing me on my soft bed, and then I was out completely.