A/N: Thank you guys SO much for letting me know that you like the story so far. You're all making me super happy!


Third Year - Part Two

Theo hurried along the familiar path towards the dance studios, lamenting the fact that he had been too absorbed in finishing off his transfiguration homework to notice the time. He wasn't late for a class (he'd never let himself commit such a travesty) but he had written his name on the booking form for one of the smaller dance rehearsal rooms, and ten minutes of his allotted time had already passed. It was no easy feat to get time in one of the rehearsal rooms because they were much sought after by the older students to practise their routines alone, in pairs or small groups and the Third Year students were given the sign-up sheet last, leaving them the slots no one else wanted, which was primarily during meals or after curfew. Even so, the rooms were so in-demand that Theo had only been able to book a room twice since Christmas and it was now the end of January.

Most of the other students in his ballet class didn't bother with the extra rehearsal time because they were, after all, still at the very beginning of their journeys as dancers, and they hadn't yet learned enough to really warrant putting in the extra hours. However, over the course of the last few months, Theo had found that there was nothing more he loved to do than dance.

He had always enjoyed the private tutelage he had received when he was younger but he'd merely seen it as more of a duty; a way of life for a child of a distinguished Pureblood family. Now that he had entered the proper education of a young dancer, he had come to look forward to his lessons from the Vittozzis more than any other - and that was saying a lot for he very much enjoyed the academic challenge of his other subjects. But there was something different about the way he was able to gain more control over his body; to feel stronger with each passing week and push himself to the limit whilst attempting to maintain a semblance of poise and grace. A couple of times in his youth, he had wondered if becoming a professional dancer was in his future, but the prospect had seemed so unlikely to come true that he had never thought on it seriously. But that was starting to change as he grew in confidence week on week.

The Vittozzis worked the students hard and were more forthcoming with their criticisms than their praise, but in Theo's mind that only meant that when they did offer you a compliment it had been well earned. He had made it a secret endeavour to work hard enough to earn at least one verbal commendation per lesson from his dance teachers and, so far, he had managed to be successful every time. His desire to impress the Vittozzis was partly the reason behind his booking of a rehearsal studio because he knew that they would cast their eye over the sign up sheet to see which students were putting in the extra effort, and they had previously mentioned to the Third Years that any pupils who took their dancing seriously should sign up for time in a rehearsal room.

Despite the chilly winter corridors, Theo had worked up quite a sweat by the time he reached the dance corridor. He slowed down his pace and adopted a calmer air in case someone important should see him, and he made his way down to the practice room. He stopped just outside the entrance and confirmed that his name truly was on the sign up sheet for the allotted time, before pulling the heavy wooden door open. He hurried in a few steps then stopped abruptly and stared.

What had caused him to stop was the fact that the room was not empty like it should have been - not that this was particularly unusual: rehearsal time was so sought after that if a room was vacant for a few minutes, others were likely to pounce. Nor was it unheard of for younger students to be chucked out if some of the senior dancers urgently needed the time in a studio. Therefore, it was not the sight of Seventh Year Slytherin student Tam Davies that made Theo stare, but rather the person he was with: Hermione Granger.

Theo wasn't so lost in his astonishment that he failed to see that both Davies and Granger were disconcerted by his arrival, but the older dancer was much better at hiding it. "Nott," Davies said evenly, with a small nod in greeting. "We thought you weren't coming. You should try to be more prompt next time - some people would claim the studio as their own if you're more than fifteen minutes late."

While Davies spoke, Granger hurried over to her belongings, threw a loose robe around her shoulders, swept the rest of her things clumsily up into her arms and then headed towards the door.

"Granger," Davies called but the Gryffindor ignored him, gaze set on the door. Theo was certain that she was going to leave without acknowledging him but just before she passed him, she glanced up. Her gaze was apprehensive but there was also a glint of determination in her posture: the lift of her chin daring him to challenge or insult her, but Theo was still so taken aback by the whole situation that he could only watch blankly as she breezed past him.

"Granger," Davies said again, shouldering his bag of belongings and starting to walk after her, but she had already left the room. Davies sighed but he didn't seem terribly put out. Indeed, he shrugged a moment later and turned a relaxed but somewhat appraising gaze on Theo. "Signor tells me you're doing well in your classes, Nott: strong stamina, good posture and improving quickly on your technique."

Befuddled, Theo gazed back at the older Slytherin.

It was impossible not to know who your housemates were in Slytherin because hierarchy was so very important, but Theo didn't know much about Tam Davies except that he had a younger brother who was a Ravenclaw and that he was a particularly gifted dancer - even rumoured to be seeking a place with a magical ballet company upon leaving school. They had never previously spoken, but this was due to the difference in age and Theo's naturally quiet disposition. Theo doubted that he was little more than a name and a face to Davies, but Theo had admired the older boy's dance abilities since seeing him in the end-of-year performance in first year. Davies was at least a head taller than Theo and a good few inches broader across the chest and shoulders. Underneath his school robes, you couldn't tell, but when Davies walked past in his dance attire it was evident that this added breadth was due to a well-toned physique. One thing that Theo had noticed was that Davies seemed to be very popular with the female population of Hogwarts, and girls from all four houses seemed to seek his attention. His honed body was no doubt a factor in this adoration, as was his obvious skill as a dancer - an attribute that Theo had heard was particularly desirable in a romantic partner amongst traditional families (not that it had any impact on Theo's growing wish to be a dancer: most girls barely knew he existed and he was perfectly comfortable with that) but Davies was also blessed with a classically handsome face that girls giggled over when he walked by. It was easy for someone like Theo to look up to Tam Davies, but now that he was stood facing him after interrupting some sort of meeting with an upstart mudblood, Theo didn't know what to think.

Davies raised an eyebrow at Theo's lack of response. "Don't say much, do you?" he muttered, looking at him with a more intense expression of scrutiny than before. Davies seemed to come to some sort of decision because he walked to the door, calling out, "See you around, Nott."

Theo flinched a little when the door was closed with a loud thud and he turned slowly on the spot, almost like he'd been released from a freezing spell. He looked around, still utterly confused: just what in Salazar's name had he walked in on?

That question plagued him all the way through his unsatisfactory rehearsal, his rushed last-minute dinner and his distracted attempts to complete the rest of his homework. Every time he tried to concentrate on something else, his mind wandered back to that dance studio. He'd checked the sign-up sheet as he'd left and seen that Granger's name had been written in for the time before his, which certainly explained what she'd been doing there, but the reason behind Davies' presence was still very much unknown.

A shadow appeared on the piece of parchment he'd been struggling to fill with his assessment of the success of the Warlock Summit of 1655 in relation to accusations of magic by muggles. "Oof, History of Magic, I do not envy you there," a voice said and Theo looked up into the sympathetic face of Tam Davies. "Having to sit through hours of Binns droning on was a weekly torture for me. I only passed my OWL because a friend in Ravenclaw leant me her notes. Well, she wasn't really a friend, more of a casual acquaintance." He laughed and the expression on his face clearly showed that he expected Theo to do the same, but he was so unnerved by being in Davies' presence for the second time in as many hours when they had never spoken before, that he could only look back blankly.

Davies gave him a curious smile and pulled out the chair to sit opposite him. "You really don't talk much, do you?"

Theo glanced around the common room to see if anyone else had noticed this strange sight, but Theo's study table was set apart from the main social area and most people had already gone to bed.

At Theo's continued wary silence, Davies scratched the back of his head and said, "Look, I just wanted to talk about what was happening up there." He gestured in an upwards motion that wasn't necessary because Theo was perfectly aware what he was referring to. "I was giving Granger a bit of help."

That answer would have been the most obvious explanation to most people - an older student giving some tips to a beginner - but Theo was confused. "Why would you do that?" he asked quietly. "She's a mudblood. She's not cut out for magical ballet - you're wasting your time."

Davies didn't react. "You know, I've asked a few people about you tonight. Do you want to know what they said?" Theo's eyebrows rose in surprise. Why would Davies go to the effort to ask about him? Davies didn't wait for a response and revealed, "'Quiet' was the main word, but we've already covered that. There's a lot of respect for your family name - one of the oldest in magical Britain - but, unlike others with similar claims, you don't make a big deal of it. You've never lost our house points, have amicable relationships with the Slytherins in your year but only really consider Malfoy and Zabini to be your friends, primarily the latter. You already know what Signor thinks of your dancing and, academically, you've shown particular skill in Potions, Transfiguration and Charms and have started to show you've got good potential in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

Theo was reeling a little at having his life laid out in black and white like that, and he wondered what the purpose was behind Davies' little speech.

"So, we know that you're in possession of a certain level of intelligence," Davies continued. "Which begs the question: if you're so smart, how can you possibly believe any of that crap about blood?"

Theo flinched as though he'd been slapped. "What?" he gasped.

"That whole belief that having magical lineage somehow makes you superior to others, that muggleborns are dirty and not capable - it's complete shit, Nott. How do you not see that?"

This was crazy. There was no way that he was sat here with Tam Davies - possibly the most popular student in school - and he was stating that the fundamental belief of magic that Theo had been taught before he could even speak, was nothing but a lie. It must be some sort of joke…

"Whatever this is, Davies, it's not funny," Theo told him seriously. He motioned to the other Slytherins sat on the couches. "What if someone else had heard you?"

Davies waved away his concern, which was alarming in itself because dismissing Pureblood supremacy in a roomful of Slytherins wasn't at all advisable. "Tell me something: which student in your year has come out on top in your end-of-year tests so far?"

"Granger," Theo answered honestly, "but my father says that's because she's stolen magic from others."

Davies gave him a look of disbelief. "Stolen magic?" he repeated. "Just listen to yourself, Nott. Does that make any sense? A girl who's had no experience of our world knows how to steal magic off of people? How does she do that?"

Theo shrugged. "Everyone knows muggles are sneaky and untrustworthy, Davies."

"Man, your dad has done a really good job on you, hasn't he?" he muttered. "And what about your first dance lesson - I heard you and Granger were the only ones to finish the jump exercise. How was that possible if she's as physically incapable as you believe?"

"Her stolen magic must have helped her," Theo answered, giving the conclusion he'd settled on after a few days of wondering the same thing, but Davies scoffed loudly.

"Deluded," he said, shaking his head. "Utterly deluded. If you were still a child I could understand it but you're not stupid, Nott - at least I thought you weren't."

Theo felt blood rush to his face. He'd much prefer to have Davies know as little about him as possible than think so negatively of him, but Davies was the one that was ignorant, not Theo. "Why do so many people thinks it's true then?"

"Because it suits them to think that," Davies replied as though it was obvious. "All the wealth, power and knowledge gets shared between the purebloods if they don't let anyone else into their circle."

"But mudbloods come from muggles," Theo said, the distaste clear in his voice. "They're dirty."

Davies sent him a flat look. "You actually think that Granger's blood is brown, don't you? How many muggles have you met?"

Theo hesitated. "None," he admitted quietly.

"And everything you've ever been told about them has come from your father?"

"No, from all of my family. And I've read about them in books, too," Theo said defensively.

"And who gave you the books?"

Theo hesitated again, more blood rushing to his face. "My family."

"Exactly," Davies said, tapping the table to emphasise his point. "You can't live your life just blindly following what others want you to believe about the world - you've got to go out and experience it for yourself. You'll be surprised by what you find, trust me."

"Why are you doing this?" Theo asked, shaking his head in an attempt to ward off Davies' words. "I wasn't going to out you for helping her."

Davies laughed humourlessly. "That's not what this is about: I wouldn't have given a shit if you had on my part - nobody would've cared about me."

"So, what, you're protecting a mudblood?" Theo questioned.

"When you take your head out of your arse, Nott, you'll see that all this blood crap is only going to hold you back from seeing everything's real value," Davies told him seriously. "Personally, I find a witch who, despite her non-magical upbringing and weeks of being petrified, is top of her year, who got up to some dangerous shit with her friends in first-year that resulted in Dumbledore throwing a mountain of points at them, who is brave enough to stand up against centuries of pureblood tradition to pursue an interest that she's passionate about, to be damn well worth knowing. And she doesn't deserve getting loads of shit from idiots who don't know her true value just because I gave her a bit of help with her dancing."

Theo gaped at him, his heart pounding as his world struggled to make sense around him.

"Oh, and there's nothing muddy about her blood, moron: she bleeds red, just like you and me," Davies told him with a roll of his eyes and he pushed the chair back to show he was leaving.

Even though his belief system was being blown apart, Theo still managed to repeat, "Why are you doing this?" When Davies looked confused, he added, "You could have just threatened me to keep quiet and leave Granger alone. Why do this?" he asked, gesturing between them.

Davies just looked at him for a few moments and Theo tried not to squirm under his gaze. "As I said, you seem to have some intelligence. Most of the other people in this house are too stupid, stubborn or set in their ways to see the truth, but I was hoping that it wasn't too late for you. I just hope I'm not wrong." He rose then and nodded curtly. "Good night, Nott."

Theo watched him go with the uncomfortable feeling that his life might never be the same again. "Good night, Davies."


He was watching her again. She didn't need to look up at him to check: she could just feel it along her spine. At first, she couldn't blame him because she could barely believe the circumstances herself, but it had been over a week since he had walked in on her with Tam and he was still looking at her when he thought she didn't know. She was severely tempted to confront him about it, but she didn't want to antagonise him when he could make things difficult for her.

Part of her lamented ever talking to Tam when he unexpectedly approached her in the library one day, but she was finding her life so stressful at the moment that his acts of kindness were the only thing that made her smile lately.

Harry and Ron weren't speaking to her. Apparently, trying to prevent your best friend from being murdered was enough of a justification to drop her from their lives. Their actions hurt, deeply, and she'd cried about it a fair few times, but she was aware that part of the reason behind her tears was because she was tired. Well, that was a bit of an understatement: she was exhausted. Her jam-packed schedule was definitely taking its toll, but she refused to let it show in her work, and she was still achieving top marks in all her subjects (apart from Divination but she obviously didn't count that as being a proper academic subject).

Her ballet progress was harder to judge. Signor and signora Vittozzi didn't give them marks out of ten at the end of each class - though the students were now being reminded every lesson that just before Easter they would have a graded examination of the exercises and dances they had been taught. That should make Hermione feel more confident for they completed every exercise at least once a week, and her knowledge of the traditional dances was becoming more secure every lesson so there would be nothing on the test that she didn't know how to do. However, unlike all her other tests, she wasn't being graded on what she knew, but how she looked doing it. And, if Hermione went by Signora's weekly comments, she couldn't expect to receive one of the top grades. Her concern about this matter led to her seeking out Tam Davies and taking him up on his previous offer to help with her dancing.

"Signora's a bitch to everyone," Tam said dismissively during their first rehearsal together when she explained why she wanted his help. Hermione audibly gasped at his language in regards to a teacher but he laughed. "Don't be so uptight, Granger - you're not going to be able to dance with a stick up your arse!" He was still smiling amiably at her, which took the sting out of his words, but he could see that she was still uncomfortable with his language. He held up a pacifying hand. "Look, Signora might be hard to like at times, particularly when you're getting to know her, but she's an excellent teacher. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about."

Tam might have been the one to make the somewhat bewildering offer of friendship first but it was still very intimidating to have him watch her so closely. He'd first approached her about a week after her rather embarrassing argument in the dance corridor with Malfoy. She had been about to snap at the person who was interrupting her work on her Ancient Runes translation, but when she looked up and saw the handsome Slytherin dancer smiling easily at her, she was able to do little more than gape as he introduced himself, told her he admired her for taking on something scarcely attempted by muggleborns and to let him know if she ever needed help.

Something about Tam had made her want to trust him straight away but she'd had enough unpleasant experiences with Slytherins to treat his offer with caution. She observed him discreetly over the following days and it was easy to see that he was well-liked, even by some of her fellow Gryffindors. So, by the time she was keen for some reassurance about her dancing, she was reasonably content that he wouldn't just laugh cruelly in her face.

They went through the normal exercises in their first session together and Tam made small adjustments to the shape of her hands and positioning of her head. He also advised her about how to make her movements sharper and more precise, and told her what he did to maintain his balance.

"You're good, Granger. You shouldn't be so insecure," he told her when they called their first session to a close fifteen minutes before the time ran out. Tam didn't care about being seen helping her but Hermione didn't want to give the Slytherins any additional reasons to be cruel to her, so she insisted they not only finish early but leave separately. "We can look at the dances next time."

Hermione looked at him gratefully. "You don't mind giving up more of your time?"

"Dance is my passion," he told her in a tone of voice that left her in no doubt at the truthfulness of his words. "Whatever form it takes, I'm more than happy to spend my time doing it."

Their second session took place a couple of weeks later (Tam making use of his earlier access to the sign-up sheet to write her name in a slot before they were all taken) and after a quick warm-up where she showed him how she'd taken his advice on board, they moved onto the traditional dances.

"Why do you keep flinching before the turn?" he asked, flicking his wand to pause the gramophone partway through their polonaise.

"Do I?" she asked in surprise.

They tried it again and Hermione was more self-aware this time. A look of understanding appeared on her face as they moved towards the turn. Tam paused the music again and gave her an expectant look.

"Neville normally goes the wrong way at that point and he's jabbed me in the ribs more than once when that happens," she explained.

"I see," he said, a slight frown on his face. "Well, rest assured, I know what I'm doing even if Longbottom doesn't."

As they made their way through the different dances, it became clear that Hermione was doing lots of other things (some conscious, others not) that stemmed from having Neville as a partner.

"They'll mark you down for anything that contradicts the choreography," Tam warned her after she'd tried to alter her grip on his hand to make sure he stepped in the correct direction like she had to do with Neville.

"But if I don't do it then the dance will probably go wrong and I'll lose marks anyway," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "Then get a new partner - Longbottom's going to hold you back."

Hermione shook her head instantly. "Neville stood up to Signora for me - I'm not going to abandon him."

"You're such a Gryffindor," Tam complained, "I thought you wanted to do well on your exam? That's the reason we're here, isn't it?"

"Well, yes," she agreed, feeling troubled, "but I'm not going to give up on a friend to make it happen - that's out of the question, Davies."

He held her gaze for a moment and she wondered if this was where their peculiar association would fall apart. She wouldn't be surprised: she didn't know of any incidents where a Slytherin and Gryffindor had worked successfully together. Eventually he sighed and said, "Well, just don't make it so obvious what you're doing to help him."

They were so absorbed in their work that Hermione didn't realise how quickly time had gone by, and she gave a cry of alarm when she saw that they had exceeded their time in the room by ten minutes.

"Look, whoever's booked out the room obviously isn't coming," Tam said, taking her bag back out of her hand and putting it on the floor next to his. "We might as well stay for a few more minutes and make sure you've definitely got this bourrée secure. It often comes up in the exam because of the tricky footwork and the changes of direction." After a moment's consideration, Hermione agreed because she had never managed to get all the way through the bourrée successfully until that night due to Neville's inability to remember the steps. And that was why, a little while later, Theodore Nott walked in on them and had barely stopped staring at Hermione since.

She looked up from the betony stems she was cutting to glance in his direction but she was surprised to see him away from his cauldron. She turned back to her own work but in her peripheral vision she noticed him walking near her table. He wasn't even looking at her but she still jumped and the knife bit deeply into her finger.

She let out a gasp that was a mixture of pain and surprise as blood quickly welled up and then trickled down her hand. Tears pricked at her eyes due to frustration, embarrassment, tiredness and pain, and she used a fistful of her robe to cover the wound and stem the flow. She approached Professor Snape reluctantly, knowing that he was likely to take points off her and lamenting the fact that healing spells weren't part of her repertoire yet, and so she missed the way Nott stared at the drops of blood she'd left behind at her workstation as though they were something earth-shattering.

A few days later, Hermione got that familiar tingle down her spine as she was trying to complete her arithmancy homework in the library. She looked up and was surprised to find Nott standing directly in front of her and not looking at her from a distance. He seemed to be deliberating something but her patience was limited due to the amount of work she had to do, so she said, "Can I help you, Nott?"

He half-nodded, opened his mouth and then paused to glance around. She did likewise but there was nobody else anywhere near them. She looked back at Nott expectantly. "I was hoping you could recommend a book," he said tentatively.

Hermione blinked in surprise: she hadn't been expecting that at all. "What about?"

He craned his head right round this time to check they were truly alone before giving his answer, and if she had thought she was taken aback by his previous words, that was nothing compared to how shocked she was when he said in a voice barely above a whisper, "About muggles."


A/N I am extremely eager to hear what you think!

Tam Davies, my OC, is a character partly borne out of my frustration with JK Rowling's way of writing all Slytherins: being a Slytherin = evil bigot. Why does being ambitious, resourceful or cunning automatically make you a bad person in the HP universe? It really bothers me!

For those of you that care, a bourrée is both a French folk dance and also a type of ballet move on the toes with lots of little steps. A polonaise is a dance of Polish origin which is a bit like a promenade around a hall. I forgot to say last chapter that a gavotte is a French folk dance. If you want to see what any of these look like then I know for a fact that the internet will be able to show you!

Anyway, I hope you liked the chapter. Hopefully we'll have another reasonably quick update.