Across the Floor

When Hermione Granger was a ten-year-old, she quit ballet. She had danced since she was a small child, but she had never been good at it. No matter how much she practiced, she found herself unable to get any better.

shasay and shasay and run, run, run, grande jeté

Intellectually, she understood how to do the steps, but her body wouldn't do what she wanted it to. Hermione wasn't used to not being good at things. She had hated dance for a few years, but she had stuck with it for one reason.

Ali Lamb was the most beautiful girl Hermione had ever seen. They had met when they were three-year-olds, and at the point in dance where all they did was bourée around the room, pretending to be butterflies.

demi-plié, and demi-plié, and grande plié, and relevé

Ali was thin and pretty, with golden brown hair and dark amber eyes. She was bony, yes, and seemingly gawky, but she was the most graceful dancer Hermione had ever seen.

So Hermione fell in love with her and stayed in love with her and it hurt every time she saw Ali, a honey wound deep inside her, sweet as sugar, sharp as death.

Eventually, Hermione just couldn't take it any more - coming home from her two classes a week in tears, reading while practicing her splits, writing sappy stupid love poems about Ali and her milk chocolate hair and honey eyes.

So Hermione came home from ballet one day and told her mother she didn't want to be in it anymore, and Mrs. Granger, seeing how often her daughter had been in tears because of it, agreed and called the studio to tell them that Hermione would not be taking classes any longer.

pas de bourée, glicade, assemblé

Hermione expected to forget about Ali and move on; they went to separate schools, after all, and London was a large enough city, so how often could they meet?

Incredibly often, as it turned out, and every time they bumped into each other in the pharmacy, at the movies, Ali greeted her with a smile and they'd chat for a few minutes, Hermione fighting bravely for composure.

If Ali ever noticed how close to tears Hermione was every time they saw each other, she was tactful about it.

pas de basque, passé, pirouette

Then that day when Hermione got her owl. She was up in her room while her parents discussed what they were going to do.

(I don't know how I feel.

I know, honey, but think of what a wonderful opportunity this could be for Hermione! She could learn so much.

I know, and I know she wants to go, but...

It seems odd, but it must be real.

I hadn't even thought of that! What if it's just a hoax?)

Hermione wondered if she would escape Ali yet. Now, a boarding school...and she was a witch? Her thoughts were all over the place and not making sense, so she got up off her bed and stretched into a split.

Hermione had started ballet when she was too young to understand the concept of the dance at all, but she had, after a certain point, come to see and love the beauty and inherent magic in it. She had wanted to shine with that beauty and magic.

She stood up, stretched down the other way.

She never harnessed that beauty or that magic, but Ali had.

So would she be there too?

shasay and arabesque and shasay and passé

Hermione spent the rest of the summer both dreading the possibility and hoping that Ali could be going to Hogwarts, too.

Then finally, that day came, September 1, and Hermione ran around all morning triple-checking her bags and threw up before she and her parents left for the train.

They got onto the platform with the help of an older witch, a pretty black-haired Asian woman, and Hermione's parents helped her get her trunk on the train and her father hugged her and her mother kissed her and she waved to them from the window as the train pulled away.

She didn't see Ali on the train, if Ali was there, and she wondered and was nervous and tasted that horrible acid flavor in the back of her throat and was glad when Neville stumbled into her compartment and asked her if she had seen his frog and she helped him look for it. She always felt better when she was occupying herself.

But even then she didn't see Ali, only a few upperclassmen and Ron and Harry, of course. She hadn't meant to show off, but she was so nervous, and the spell worked, half of her had been expecting it to go wrong.

tondue and plié and tondue and close, susu

It wasn't even on the boats, no, everything was too chaotic, it was when they were in the hall where Professor McGonagall had told them to wait that she saw Ali and Ali saw her and the two of them smiled at each other and spoke in quiet, nervous voices about how I can't believe you're here! I'm so glad there's someone I know, Oh, me too, I'm so nervous! and What do you think's going to happen? And Ali reached out and squeezed her hand as they filed into the Great Hall and Hermione was too surprised and pleased to be nervous.

When the hat called "Granger, Hermione!" Ali gave her a reassuring smile and clapped when the hat shouted "Gryffindor!" and Hermione prayed to God that Ali would end up in the same house with her.

But, "Lamb, Ali!" came and Ali went up and Hermione crossed her fingers, but the hat called out, "Ravenclaw!" and Hermione clapped for Ali and smiled every time their eyes met, disappointed as she was.

For the first few days, everything was in such chaotic disorder that Hermione could hardly care, she was so excited and nervous and an utter, utter mess, but soon enough, things fell into a routine where she did well in all her classes and saw Ali in the halls and library and they'd exchange words and she'd feel the wound inside opening up and hurting more and more.

tombé, pas de bourée, glicade, pas de chat

And now Hermione was in her Seventh Year and she was best friends with Harry and Ron and she'd had her brief fling with Viktor and had even messed around with Ron a bit in Sixth Year, but for the most part had concentrated on her studies and been in love with Ali.

And Ali was in some of her classes, now, Advanced Arithmancy, for one, and Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts - Professor Lupin was back for that one, and the best students in the upper forms were taking Advanced DADA to strengthen the fight against Voldemort.

And one night while showering, Hermione realized that nothing was ever going to happen with her and Ali and her mood swings and depression and everything else that had been weighing down upon her recently wasn't just anxiety and her work load, it was the final realization that she was not happy.

So she turned off the taps, and dried herself off and slipped on her night gown and took her razor into her room (her own, her very own, because she had, as everybody expected, made Head Girl) and sat down on her bed.

She gave herself four slashes.

One for her.

One for Ali.

One for what was.

One for what wasn't.

And she bled, staining her white lace comforter that had been her grandmother's pretty crimson red, holding the razor limply in one hand.

piqué turn across the floor until you fall down dizzy laughing in love

finis.