Voldemorts toes curled in his soft ballet slippers, the only condescension the wizard deigned to give to the nervousness energy that threatened to overwhelm his slim frame. To the other dancers hurrying across the backstage, the dancer appeared icily calm, awaiting his cue with an air of relaxation edging towards boredom. As always, ever person backstage found themselves exceedingly busy with sudden urgent tasks, that just so happened to take them as far from the menacing visage of the dark wizard as possible in the limited space. Of course they regretted the necessity, Tom, would love to have wished you well, but well, urgent business, very urgent, must run. For his part, Voldemort didn't spare the time to begrudge the muggle dancers. The music was swelling, and the ballerina currently occupying center stage dipped in the swirl that was his cue to come out onstage.
Behind the glare of the harsh stage lights there was a kind of silence, an oasis of calm from the wailing tones of the orchestra. Voldemort leapt onstage, a perfect grand jete assisted ever so slightly by his subtly concealed wand, his spindly frame reminiscent of a graceful insect under the bright lights. The lights which washed out the ruddier dancers' skin transformed the pale wizard to marble, a vampire, a natural typecast invariably as the villain of the piece. He eyed his graceful partner with flashing ruby eyes.
The ballerina, starring as the heroine, executed a graceful swoon into his waiting arms, and Voldemort lifted her stiff form into the air with little effort as the hero danced on to defend his maiden from the villain. The rest of the dance passed in a swirl of leaps and spins, practiced so many times that it was almost meditative, so much destiny, villain defeated in the same repetition of moves, and Voldemort was cast offstage in disrepair, leaving the happy heroes to dance for the audience as always.
The villain was greeted by hushed cheers from his fellow dancers as he left the stage, he straightened and a rare half-smile flashed across his pallid face. No longer a villain, at least until the finale, just Tom Riddle, ballet dancer, in that respite between villain onstage, and dark lord in reality. Tom cherished the respite, trapped in the cramped, harried backstage he felt freer than when he held the wizarding world in an iron grip.
The finale began and the villain returned, for the sake of the audience.