The next morning, Rachel chose what courses she would be taking over
the summer. She chose Quidditch, obviously, Advanced Potions, acting, and
maté. Maté (mat-ay) was the Wizard form of ballet and Rachel thought that
it might help her with her Quidditch skills. Carley was taking Maté as
well, though on a higher level, so she was surprised when she saw it on
Rachel's schedule.
"I didn't know you danced!"
"I don't. I'm thinking it will help me with Quidditch."
"It probably will. I love it. It's different then Muggle ballet. You use magic, but it is still challenging, more so in a way. Do you have the right shoes?"
"Yeah. I told my parents I would be taking it, and they went out and bought them for me. Isn't it wild though?"
Rosemary leaned in. "Are they really made out of glass?"
Carley nodded. "Yep, and the thing is, as long as you have the right form, you can bend anyway you please. They make you flexible enough to do almost anything, but if you don't do it correctly, you get all messed up, so you have to start small. After working at it for a while though, you can do the moves without the shoes."
"The shoes have a charm on them though, right? So they won't break?"
"Of course! They are really pretty, and can be charmed to be different colors for performances. You're gonna love it!" With that, Carley slid out of her chair and danced her way out of the cafeteria.
Rachel was not the oldest in her class. She wasn't the youngest either, not by far. She stood there, in her leotard and tights, very similar to the muggle ballet uniform, but she was about to find out how different the two dances really were.
"Ok! Are we ready?" The teacher walked in. She was young and bouncy and happy. Carley simply gushed about her, but Rachel had never really known her. "I'm Professor Marks! Andrea Marks, your dance teacher! Why don't we introduce ourselves?"
Rachel looked around her. The youngest girl was a seventh year, and the oldest a twelfth. They went around the room, introducing, then the bouncy professor clapped her hands and told them to warm up.
"Warm up BEFORE you put the shoes on. It is very important! Now, stretch like this...." The class warmed itself up. People were flexible to varying degrees, which made it very interesting to watch.
"Ok! Now put your shoes on and wait for my instruction to move." Rachel slid on her shoes and laced them up. For being glass, they were very strong. She sat there on the floor. The twelfth year muttered,
"I don't have to take this." And stood up. Right as she began to move she let out an unearthly scream of pain.
Professor Marks clapped her hand to her mouth in a very bouncy way, then cried out, almost joyously. "Our first cramp! Don't move! Any of you!" She rushed over in a very graceful way, and asked the twelfth year, "Where does it hurt?"
The twelfth year mumbled, tried to point, then screamed again.
"Don't move." The professor pulled out her wand, and started tapping joints. Then she untied the girl's shoes. "If you aren't going to listen to me, then you can leave this class." The Professor helped the girl up, then pointed toward the door. "Leave. I will talk to Headmistress Mason, and she will find something else for you to do. It is of upmost importance that you listen to me in this class, for Maté is a very dangerous yet beautiful art.
The girl muttered something else then left. Professor clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Turn your heads slowly toward me. Very slowly, and I will explain what happened. Your shoes, while they grant you wonderful power and skill, have their little," She paused, ran her tongue over her lips, "'curse', let's call it, in that, all your movements must be graceful and preplanned down to the millisecond. If you break any of those two rules, your shoes will do their duty, and cause you unimaginable pain, and freeze your joints, which will trap you. The history of this form of dance goes very far back Originally, it was simply used as painful torture, and public entertainment, then it grew. People learned how to beat them, and thus, this elegant form of dance arose. Sort of like a phoenix, don't you think? Rising out of such a despicable place to become such an art form. Now, DON'T MOVE, and I will walk over and help you all up, and we can begin class."
The rest of class flowed smoothly, as did Quidditch practice. Rachel only realized how much she missed Quidditch once she started again. However, she noticed one difference as she took her place at the goal- posts, and she asked Carley about it. She figured Carley would know, being as the girl was in everyone's business at one time or another.
"Carley?" Carley had just come from dance class, and Rachel from Quidditch practice, so they were both a little hot and sweaty. Carley sipped at her flavored water before asking,
"What huh?"
Rachel wiped her face with a towel. Her Quidditch robes were very thick, and though they did have a cooling charm on them, they were still hot when flying around out there for over an hour.
"Our seeker was missing. Do you know where Jeremiah Scanzetti is?"
Carley dropped the bottle of water. It bounced a few times, then began pooling on the floor. Her eyes filled with tears, and she buried her wet face into Rachel's shoulders.
"He–he–Rach–he–when the Sons of the Lord attacked the ministry building after the rise of Voldemort–he was there."
Rachel could barely make out what Carley had just said through her muffled sobs. "Was he injured? Is he in the hospital?" Rachel knew Jeremiah's mother was a field specialist for the Magical Beasts division. She also knew that Jeremiah's father was a muggle.
"N–no–I was dating him at the time–I gave a speech at his funeral."
"Funeral? You mean he's–"
Carley nodded. Rachel couldn't believe it. She remembered Jeremiah, two years older then she was, laughing and joking about the snitch. He had many names for that little golden ball, not all of them polite. Rachel just patted Carley's shoulder, and comforted her while she cried and cried.
"I didn't know you danced!"
"I don't. I'm thinking it will help me with Quidditch."
"It probably will. I love it. It's different then Muggle ballet. You use magic, but it is still challenging, more so in a way. Do you have the right shoes?"
"Yeah. I told my parents I would be taking it, and they went out and bought them for me. Isn't it wild though?"
Rosemary leaned in. "Are they really made out of glass?"
Carley nodded. "Yep, and the thing is, as long as you have the right form, you can bend anyway you please. They make you flexible enough to do almost anything, but if you don't do it correctly, you get all messed up, so you have to start small. After working at it for a while though, you can do the moves without the shoes."
"The shoes have a charm on them though, right? So they won't break?"
"Of course! They are really pretty, and can be charmed to be different colors for performances. You're gonna love it!" With that, Carley slid out of her chair and danced her way out of the cafeteria.
Rachel was not the oldest in her class. She wasn't the youngest either, not by far. She stood there, in her leotard and tights, very similar to the muggle ballet uniform, but she was about to find out how different the two dances really were.
"Ok! Are we ready?" The teacher walked in. She was young and bouncy and happy. Carley simply gushed about her, but Rachel had never really known her. "I'm Professor Marks! Andrea Marks, your dance teacher! Why don't we introduce ourselves?"
Rachel looked around her. The youngest girl was a seventh year, and the oldest a twelfth. They went around the room, introducing, then the bouncy professor clapped her hands and told them to warm up.
"Warm up BEFORE you put the shoes on. It is very important! Now, stretch like this...." The class warmed itself up. People were flexible to varying degrees, which made it very interesting to watch.
"Ok! Now put your shoes on and wait for my instruction to move." Rachel slid on her shoes and laced them up. For being glass, they were very strong. She sat there on the floor. The twelfth year muttered,
"I don't have to take this." And stood up. Right as she began to move she let out an unearthly scream of pain.
Professor Marks clapped her hand to her mouth in a very bouncy way, then cried out, almost joyously. "Our first cramp! Don't move! Any of you!" She rushed over in a very graceful way, and asked the twelfth year, "Where does it hurt?"
The twelfth year mumbled, tried to point, then screamed again.
"Don't move." The professor pulled out her wand, and started tapping joints. Then she untied the girl's shoes. "If you aren't going to listen to me, then you can leave this class." The Professor helped the girl up, then pointed toward the door. "Leave. I will talk to Headmistress Mason, and she will find something else for you to do. It is of upmost importance that you listen to me in this class, for Maté is a very dangerous yet beautiful art.
The girl muttered something else then left. Professor clapped her hands to get everyone's attention. "Turn your heads slowly toward me. Very slowly, and I will explain what happened. Your shoes, while they grant you wonderful power and skill, have their little," She paused, ran her tongue over her lips, "'curse', let's call it, in that, all your movements must be graceful and preplanned down to the millisecond. If you break any of those two rules, your shoes will do their duty, and cause you unimaginable pain, and freeze your joints, which will trap you. The history of this form of dance goes very far back Originally, it was simply used as painful torture, and public entertainment, then it grew. People learned how to beat them, and thus, this elegant form of dance arose. Sort of like a phoenix, don't you think? Rising out of such a despicable place to become such an art form. Now, DON'T MOVE, and I will walk over and help you all up, and we can begin class."
The rest of class flowed smoothly, as did Quidditch practice. Rachel only realized how much she missed Quidditch once she started again. However, she noticed one difference as she took her place at the goal- posts, and she asked Carley about it. She figured Carley would know, being as the girl was in everyone's business at one time or another.
"Carley?" Carley had just come from dance class, and Rachel from Quidditch practice, so they were both a little hot and sweaty. Carley sipped at her flavored water before asking,
"What huh?"
Rachel wiped her face with a towel. Her Quidditch robes were very thick, and though they did have a cooling charm on them, they were still hot when flying around out there for over an hour.
"Our seeker was missing. Do you know where Jeremiah Scanzetti is?"
Carley dropped the bottle of water. It bounced a few times, then began pooling on the floor. Her eyes filled with tears, and she buried her wet face into Rachel's shoulders.
"He–he–Rach–he–when the Sons of the Lord attacked the ministry building after the rise of Voldemort–he was there."
Rachel could barely make out what Carley had just said through her muffled sobs. "Was he injured? Is he in the hospital?" Rachel knew Jeremiah's mother was a field specialist for the Magical Beasts division. She also knew that Jeremiah's father was a muggle.
"N–no–I was dating him at the time–I gave a speech at his funeral."
"Funeral? You mean he's–"
Carley nodded. Rachel couldn't believe it. She remembered Jeremiah, two years older then she was, laughing and joking about the snitch. He had many names for that little golden ball, not all of them polite. Rachel just patted Carley's shoulder, and comforted her while she cried and cried.