Disclaimer - I do not own the Harry Potter world.

A/N A few quick things to note:

1) Though it may sound like it, this is not a crack!fic

2) You do not need to be a ballet expert (or really know much about ballet at all) to read this fic.

3) I have not given up on my other fics.

Prologue

Hermione Granger read so many astonishing and mind-altering facts about her new school the first time she looked through Hogwarts: A History, that the small paragraph mentioning that magical ballet was offered as an extracurricular struck her as only mildly interesting compared to ghosts, brewing actual potions and a thousand-year-old enchanted castle. In fact, in the wake of her engrossing first months at her school, she had entirely forgotten about the dance classes that were open to third-year students and above.

It was only when she picked up her favourite book again during the Easter holidays for a bit of casual reading, that she came across the passage once more and her interest was piqued. She considered going in search of the dance classroom when lessons resumed to see just what magical ballet involved, but then her revision for the upcoming exams kicked in and there was still the worrying business of the Philosopher's Stone occupying her mind.

When there were just a few days left until the all-important exams were set to take place, Hermione's desire to know more about Hogwarts' take on dancing was satisfied when the ballet students put on an end of year performance for the rest of the school. Some of the other Gryffindors grumbled about having to sit through the show – Harry and Ron, in particular – but (despite the fact that it took her away from her revision for a couple of hours) Hermione was looking forward to it. She had, like many girls her age, taken ballet lessons for a year or two when she was younger, and her mother had even taken her to London to see a performance of The Nutcracker by The Royal Ballet for a special treat one Christmas, so she wasn't completely ignorant of the discipline.

The Great Hall was transformed for the event: a grand stage was set up in the place of the teachers' table and rows of seating replaced the four long house tables. It was obviously an important occasion as Hermione saw lots of guests were invited to the event, and she was sure she even saw a couple of ghosts she'd never seen before float past to take their seats.

Once the lights in the Great Hall were dimmed, Hermione watched, enraptured, as the ballet began. The performance was in two halves. The first act was a narrative and the story was unfamiliar to Hermione, but this didn't prevent her from taking in every moment of the spectacle. In essence, the dancing was very similar to muggle ballet but the storytelling was enhanced by magical effects: the leading male dancer performed a solo amongst twinkling stars and flowers grew through the stage floor during his duet with the lead ballerina. Hermione was impressed with the strength of the male dancers as they lifted their female partners with ease, but when she saw one ballerina lifted above a dancer's head by nothing more than a single one of his fingers, she knew that enchantments had to have been used to make it possible. In the second half (a series of unconnected solos, duets and group dances that allowed different individuals to showcase their talents) this was particularly obvious during a duet between another pair of senior students whose feet didn't touch the floor once as they danced in mid-air across the stage. It was such an exquisite sight that Hermione couldn't be sure that she remembered to breathe during the entire piece.

The whole production was beautiful, really, and Hermione marvelled at how every single dancer was so graceful and poised. She must pass all the performers regularly in the school corridors but she didn't really recognise any of them. Did performing ballet automatically transform you into an unrecognisable creature of beauty?

Although they said they'd never be caught dancing themselves, Hermione could tell that Ron and Harry were impressed with what they'd seen.

The other girls in Hermione's dorm were much more open with their admiration as they pranced around the room and giggled over how handsome the male dancers were.

Parvati attempted an extravagant pirouette and then flopped dramatically onto her bed with a loud sigh as Lavender laughed.

"It's such a shame," Parvati declared ruefully. "I wouldn't even consider taking ballet at Hogwarts."

Hermione looked up from her book in surprise. Given the way Parvati had been gushing about the performance for the last half an hour, Hermione was sure that the girl would be signing up in just over a year's time. "Why not?" she asked, unable to stem her curiosity.

Parvati and Lavender exchanged a quick look that had been common enough over the past months whenever Hermione had asked a question that they thought everyone knew the answer to. She knew that they didn't mean to upset her when they did it, but it set her teeth on edge.

"Apparently, the dance teachers are horrible," Parvati explained, "worse than Snape by far!"

"Most students who sign up quit before they've completed their first year of training." Lavender added.

"So you might get to wear the beautiful outfits at the end of the year but it doesn't seem worth having to endure hours of practice every week while teachers rip you to shreds just to get you there," Parvati said defeatedly.

"But they obviously get the best out of their students – they were all very impressive," Hermione said.

"I didn't say they're not good teachers," Parvati pointed out. "I just don't think all the blood, sweat and tears are worth it."

Lavender nodded in agreement but Hermione turned back to her book without another word. She may have only been acquainted with the girls for a few months but she already knew that hard work was a foreign concept to them. But, more accurately, the same was true of all of the Gryffindors in her year. Did they not understand how important it was to perform well in their end-of-year examinations? Hermione, for one, was not going to risk having to repeat the year, and her revision schedule made sure that she was going to be fully prepared to perform at her best.

And, a couple of weeks later, she was rewarded for her efforts by coming top of the year – even managing to score over one hundred percent in more than one subject. As wonderful as her results were, their importance paled in comparison to the successful efforts of herself, Ron and, particularly, Harry in stopping Voldemort from getting his hands on the Philosopher's Stone.

Her second year at Hogwarts turned out to be just as eventful as her first and even more dangerous. When she was restored from petrification thanks to the mandrake draft, it dawned on her that she'd escaped instant death only because of a little mirror. It was a rather alarming realisation amid the relief in being returned to consciousness.

It was wonderful to see her friends again and hear how they'd managed to defeat the basilisk and the Heir of Slytherin, but she was mildly disappointed when Dumbledore announced the cancellation of the school exams for that year. However, after time to reflect, she concluded that it was probably for the best – she would've had to come up with a relentless revision regime to make sure she would've been able to study everything that she'd missed whilst petrified.

Fortunately, the end of year dance performance was not cancelled. Once again, Hermione was mesmerised by the grace and skill on stage. This time, she knew her fellow students better and she recognised a few of them, but was struck by how the ballet posture and moves completely transformed them from the normal pupils she saw around school, and she wondered… could that be her?

She squashed the thought instantly as nothing more than a silly notion, but she couldn't stop her imagination putting her on that stage, showcasing a grace she'd never been capable of before…

When Dumbledore led the plaudits at the end, praising the ballet dancers for their incredible performances and the teachers for their work in preparing the students, Hermione watched the two dance instructors closely. There was one man and one woman, and Hermione was quite sure she hadn't seen them around the castle before, which was surprising considering she'd been there for nearly two years. Both instructors held themselves with such immaculate poise that Hermione was certain they must have been ballet dancers themselves when they were younger. Although streaks of silver ran through their hair, they were both still in incredible shape and strikingly handsome. There were wide but gracious smiles on their faces as Dumbledore thanked them for the hard work they had done in tutoring the students, and the pupils applauded their instructors enthusiastically, which struck Hermione as intriguing considering their harsh reputation.

"And don't forget, Second Years: your taster session of ballet will take place here, in the Great Hall, tomorrow afternoon," Professor Dumbledore announced, much to Hermione's astonishment.

"Why didn't I know about this?" she whispered to Harry and Ron as a thrill raced through her.

Harry looked a little apologetic. "It's been on the noticeboard for weeks. To be honest, we were hoping they'd cancel it," he admitted as Ron nodded dejectedly.

Frustrated that she'd missed the announcement whilst petrified, Hermione quickly turned her attention back to Dumbledore. "I'm sure signor and signora Vittozzi are eager to discover what talents can be unearthed amongst you all," he declared, eyes twinkling as he swept his gaze along the row of second year students.

"I can't believe we're forced to take ballet for a day," Ron grumbled on their way back up to Gryffindor Tower.

"A whole day?" Hermione gasped. "That sounds very intense."

Ron's ears turned slightly red. "Well, it's only for an hour actually…" he admitted. Hermione sent him an exasperated look for his over-exaggeration and he quickly added, "But it doesn't matter how long I have to do it for – I know I don't want to take up bloody ballet."

Hermione pressed her lips together, not willing to be drawn into an argument about it and instead tried to figure out how she was feeling at the prospect of taking part in a magical ballet lesson. She was obviously excited to try something that she was secretly so intrigued by, but she was also incredibly apprehensive that her ridiculous, tentative dream could be shot down so soon if it turned out she didn't have the capability for the art. But what if she did find that she enjoyed it and had potential? From what Parvati and Lavender told her last year, it sounded like ballet was not just a casual club to sign up to for a bit of fun – it would be something she had to be really committed to. And there was the rumoured harsh teaching style of the instructors as well. Hermione wasn't used to teachers offering her criticism because she made sure she was as academically prepared for their lessons as possible. Ballet wasn't something she could prepare for in the same way because it wasn't just a question of her knowing what her body needed to do, it was whether she could actually get her body to do it and do it well. She knew she would have so much to learn to get to the standard of the ballet dancers she had seen, but how would she cope with receiving blunt critiques that apparently resulted in many students dropping out before their first year was complete? And then there was the added question of whether a commitment to ballet would impact on her academic performance.

There was certainly a lot to think about and Hermione's thoughts chased around her head all night and through to the next afternoon so that by the time she descended into the Great Hall, she was extremely tense and incredibly nervous. The training clothes that had appeared at the end of her bed when she woke that morning were not doing much for her confidence either. She was so used to the loose and sweeping robes everyone wore in the magical world that donning something that clung to her skin so tightly was rather unsettling. However, though it might just be her mind playing tricks on her, she felt that wearing the long-sleeved black leotard automatically made her posture more graceful and the silky, long skirt flowed nicely as she tried a little spin in her bedroom when no one else was looking. She, like all the other Gryffindors, had tied her normal cloak over herself for the walk down to the Great Hall (despite it being the beginning of summer) because none of them wanted to draw any attention to themselves.

Hermione quickly scuttled out of the Common Room with Harry and Ron, but was too preoccupied with her thoughts to listen to their complaints about the outfits or Ron's gratitude that he was able to get away from the tower before Fred or George caught him in the form-fitting trousers.

The students huddled together in groups as they waited for the class to start. Most were still hiding under cloaks or robes but a few had shrugged off their outer garments and were standing in the middle of the Great Hall with an air of confidence that Hermione envied. There were a few older students there, too, that she recognised as being dancers from the previous day's performance and she suspected they were there to help demonstrate the exercises in the class.

Ron let out a low moan as he surveyed the scene. "Do you think if we just turn around they won't notice that we didn't attend?" he asked lowly.

"I'm sure Malfoy would love to point out that we skived off," Harry muttered in an equally unenthusiastic tone.

Hermione glanced over at the blond boy and saw that he was one of the pupils already with his dance outfit on show and, if he was uncomfortable in it, he wasn't letting it show as his usual haughty expression was firmly in place.

"You know, we did just save the school from closure and defeat a bloody basilisk," Ron whispered as they stood defensively at the side.

"Are you suggesting that we'd be excused from taking part if we just asked nicely?" Harry questioned sceptically.

Ron shrugged. "We won't know if we don't try."

A sudden hush descended over the Great Hall and the trio turned their heads to see what had triggered it. The ballet instructors – signor and signora Vittozzi – had arrived, stalking imperiously into the room, apparently completely at ease with all eyes on them.

"Well, now's your chance, Ron," Hermione whispered. "They don't look like the sort that will be at all offended at a request to quit their class," she said teasingly, not taking her eyes away from the proud-looking pair.

"Ha, ha," Ron retorted sarcastically under his breath as the ballet teachers reached the front of the room and turned around to survey the wary students before them, who seemed to be collectively holding their breath.

"Magical Ballet is only for the strongest and most talented amongst you," signor Vittozzi declared in a voice with a strong Italian accent. "Even from the first step, it is not an easy path."

"But the rewards of reaching the pinnacle of ballet can see you perform all over the world and revered by witches and wizards everywhere," signora Vittozzi continued and Hermione blinked in surprise. She had been expecting another Italian accent but the signora sounded extremely English to Hermione's ears. "Today you will discover if the potential for greatness and beauty lies within you."

"I think I already know the answer to that," Ron muttered grumpily. Hermione threw him a scandalised look for talking at the same time as the teachers, but she saw Harry fighting a grin and turned back to the front with a small, disapproving shake of her head.

"Remove any outer garments you are still wearing," signora Vittozzi instructed. "Girls on this side of the hall, boys to the other side with my husband. Quickly now," she added sharply when her orders weren't being carried out quick enough for her liking.

Hermione gave her friends a harried look, feeling the nervousness within her reach new heights. "Good luck," she said quickly.

Harry nodded. "You too."

"What do we need luck for when it's something we don't even want to do," Ron grouched as he trudged away to the other side of the hall, Harry behind him.

Hermione hurriedly undid the clasp on her cloak, rested it alongside all the other girls' garments and rushed to find a place roughly in the middle so that she wasn't at the front but wasn't so far back that she couldn't see what was going on. The middle was quite densely populated and only a few girls had attempted to hide towards the back. Looking forwards, Hermione was a little surprised to see Pansy and most of the other Slytherin girls ahead of her. In Hermione's experience, she found that those particular girls showed little enthusiasm for their lessons but maybe ballet was of more interest to them.

Glancing over to the other half of the hall, Hermione saw that the Slytherin boys were mostly in front there, too. However, the rear of the hall was much more cluttered with reluctant boy dancers and, unsurprisingly, that's where she caught a glimpse of Ron and Harry's self-conscious figures.

A few older students moved through the girls, adjusting their positions slightly so they were more spaced out. They then held the tip of their wand to each girl's palm and murmured an incantation that Hermione didn't quite catch. Hermione looked at her hand suspiciously, wondering what spell had been enacted. As though in response to her thoughts, signora Vittozzi explained to them all, "The charm will give you the sensation of holding onto the barre as we go through our first exercises." She swept her eyes over the hall and seemed satisfied with what she saw because she nodded quickly and then elegantly shifted her stance into what Hermione recognised from her previous ballet experience as first position.

Over the next half an hour, Hermione watched closely as signor and signora Vittozzi instructed them through a number of barre exercises. She was relieved that some of the movements like pliés and tendus were familiar to her, and she focused on copying the demonstrations of the older girls as accurately as she could. The Vittozzis moved amongst the second years, making corrections to the students' posture, the turnout of their feet, the line of their arms and their head position. Hermione was hyper-aware of the movements of the two instructors but she couldn't keep an eye on them all the time, so she was taken a little bit by surprise when she suddenly felt a hand on her back, forcing her shoulders down, and another raising her elbow up by an inch to improve her second position. Signora Vittozzi came into view out of the corner of Hermione's eye, and she tried not to get distracted by her presence as she watched her attempts at the rond de jambe with close scrutiny.

The signora tsked loudly. "Your posture is atrocious," she told Hermione bluntly, coming to stand directly in front of her. "Shoulders down, back straight, neck long," she instructed, manipulating Hermione's body until it met something close to her standards. "Slide the foot through first position every single time," she said loudly to the room as a whole, but Hermione saw the signora glance down at her feet with a distasteful expression before she turned away to criticise someone else. Hermione tried to take the comments in good grace; Vittozzi was trying to help her improve, after all, even if she trembled internally at being described as atrocious for the first time in her life.

Her body soon started to ache at the unfamiliar way she was using it but there was no respite. As soon as their barre exercises were completed (the older students quickly cancelling the charms on everyone's hands) they were put to the test with some centre work. Without the balancing spell to steady them, the second years wobbled a lot more as they completed similar exercises to the ones they had at the barre. There was so much to remember with the placement of the arms and the turn out of the feet that it was sometimes difficult to remember what step she had to do next, and she was relieved when signor Vittozzi announced they were to move on to the jumping section. But her relief was short-lived as she very quickly found herself out of breath and her legs burning. Hermione seriously thought that she'd be in better shape after two years of climbing around the castle. Hermione would argue that her recent petrification accounted for this lack of fitness but she knew for a fact that her body's condition had not deteriorated during her time in the Hospital Wing. The Vittozzis barked at them all to jump higher, stretch their legs, point their toes and watch their arms, and the difficulty only increased when they started to doing turning jumps that left most of the students very dizzy.

Hermione had managed to avoid any great sense of embarrassment during the course of the lesson because she knew that all the other students were trying just as hard to avoid being yelled at, so there was no chance to laugh at each other. Unfortunately, there was just enough time before the end of the lesson for them to perform travelling steps like skips, gallops and leaps diagonally across the hall in small groups. Hermione watched in consternation as the older students demonstrated the moves with perfect poise and landed their split leaps in impossible silence.

She could hear Ron muttering curse words under his breath behind her at how little he wanted to skip across the hall, but Hermione watched the first group of students intensely to make sure she had memorised the steps correctly. Her first attempt wasn't terrible and she seemed to finish in time with the music, unlike most of the other people in her group. By the third go, she felt confident that she knew what she was doing and allowed herself a smile of triumph for her efforts. It was nowhere near the level of the older students, of course, but she was pleased with herself nonetheless, and, when she glanced over at the Vittozzis, she found that the married couple were watching her. The husband was looking at her more favourably than the wife, who leaned forwards to whisper something in his ear. He sent her a mildly disapproving glance and shrugged his shoulders before they both turned their attention to the next group. Hermione wondered whether signora Vittozzi had said something about her. If she had, it didn't appear to have been anything particularly positive.

The class finished a couple of minutes later, much to most people's relief, and the Vittozzis announced that there would be signup sheets posted in each Common Room, which would only remain there until nine o'clock the next morning. Hermione felt a little alarmed that she would have to make a decision so quickly about whether to take up ballet, and she was so unsure about what she was going to do that she didn't even hear most of Ron and Harry's moaning about the torture they'd endured as they returned, sweaty and aching, back to the Common Room.

"What did you think of it, Hermione?" Harry asked as they closed in on the Fat Lady's portrait.

"Oh," she replied, startled at being drawn into the conversation. "Um, well, I didn't mind it actually." Both boys looked at her in surprise so she added, "But it was even more tiring than I thought it was going to be."

"Bloody ballet," Ron muttered scathingly (for what was probably the twentieth time that day) apparently in agreement with her words.

They gave the password to the Fat Lady and then departed to get washed and changed for dinner. Hermione wasn't surprised to see that the new sign-up sheet was devoid of names as she waited for Harry and Ron to emerge from their dormitory, and she wondered if any of her fellow Gryffindors would put themselves forwards before tomorrow morning. She doubted it: all the boys had remained at the very back of that day's class and she already knew that Lavender and Parvati weren't prepared to take on the hard work required. As for Hermione herself, she had come to a decision about when she would make her decision – tomorrow morning, when she woke up. There was no point making her mind up so soon after the class when she had time to come to an informed decision in the morning, and she could see how her body had fared a few hours after the intense workout.

Dinner was a noisy affair as the rest of the Gryffindor second years were noticeably relieved about coming through their ballet ordeal, and now only had the summer holidays to look forward to. Hermione tried to join in with the merriment but she'd never been the greatest in these sorts of social occasions, and her stomach was still fluttering with indecision.

"So, is anyone thinking of signing up to ballet?" Neville asked with an attempt at a casual air, but Hermione could see he was distinctly nervous about the response to his question.

Ron snorted. "No chance," he said, a sentiment echoed by the rest of the Gryffindor boys.

Neville looked quite perturbed, and his cheeks became quite red as he glanced down at his ice cream.

Hermione wasn't the only one to notice his behaviour.

"Neville?" Harry asked with a frown. "What's wrong?"

Neville lifted a spoonful of vanilla ice cream to his lips and he mumbled a response, before shoving his dessert in his mouth.

"What?" Harry questioned, clearly, like Hermione, having not heard a word of what he'd said.

Neville choked a little on the ice cream and his face turned even redder as the group's gazes zeroed in on him. "Gran wants me to do it," he admitted in a voice barely above a whisper.

Hermione couldn't quite keep an astonished look off of her face and Harry looked equally surprised. Ron, however, just shook his head and said firmly, "It's your life, Neville. Your grandmother can't make you do something you don't want to do." Then his expression became suspicious. "You don't want to do ballet, do you?"

"No, I, well, it's just," Neville stammered. "Maybe it'll be good for me, like Gran says. I'd only do it for a year to get the initial qualification and pick up the key dances – I don't think I'd be good enough to progress further." He looked at Ron in mild confusion. "Doesn't your mother want you to do it?"

Ron shrugged and shoved a large spoonful of raspberry ice cream into his mouth. "I'm sure she'd love me to but it bloody well isn't going to happen and she knows it," he declared thickly as he swallowed the ice cream. "Percy did it for a year, much to Mum's delight," he muttered, throwing an annoyed glance down the table at his older brother, "and Bill kept it up until his OWLs, but I'd sooner take up extra Potions lessons with Snape than ballet."

Neville shuddered at what, for him, would be such a terrifying alternative but he still looked around at the rest of the Gryffindors a little desperately. "There must be one of you that wants to do ballet with me," he said pleadingly. "I don't want to go on my own – I know all the Slytherins will sign up and Malfoy always picks on me whenever he gets the chance."

Hermione could see all the boys were steadfastly avoiding Neville's imploring gaze. She didn't understand why partaking in ballet was so important to Neville or his Gran, but she felt a strong urge to help him.

"I'll join up with you," she found herself saying before she lost her nerve.

The look of hopeful relief on Neville's face was quickly upstaged by the loud laughter emanating from Ron. "You?" he asked in amused disbelief. "Do ballet?"

Hermione instantly felt herself become tense. "Why shouldn't I?" she asked defensively. Was the idea really so ridiculous?

"Well, you're all about books and essays, aren't you?" Ron explained, looking increasingly confused that she wasn't actually attempting some sort of joke.

"So I'm not allowed to have interests outside of my academic studies?" she questioned, a hint of anger creeping into her voice.

Ron shrugged. "You never struck me as the sort for all the sequins and prancing about, no offence," he added unconvincingly, which only made her more irritated. "Besides, you're not a pureblood."

Hermione felt a stabbing sensation in her chest. "What has that got to do with anything?" she asked, forcing herself to keep her voice level.

Harry was watching the conversation with a wary expression on his face and Ron seemed to realise he'd said something that was potentially offensive because he quickly explained, "Only purebloods study ballet, that's all. It's just an old tradition for snobby pureblood families to show off that their children are good dancers. If your son or daughter actually joined a magical ballet company when they left school, it was considered a great honour and all the other families would be spitting with jealousy," he said, rolling his eyes to show how ridiculous he thought this was. "That's not really the case anymore, but most traditional pureblood families expect their kids to study it for a couple of years anyway."

"So that's why you think the Slytherins will all sign up?" Harry asked Neville.

He nodded. "It's why Gran wants me to do it," he said. "Tradition means a lot to her and she says both my mum and dad studied it for a couple of years too." He glanced at Hermione. "It's OK, Hermione, I understand if you don't want to do it anymore."

She felt a resolve settle deep within her. She didn't care one jot that magical ballet was only really studied by purebloods at Hogwarts. She'd had far too much experience of being singled out because of her blood status that year. It had almost cost her life and she'd missed a significant amount of schooling because some witches and wizards thought that she didn't belong in their world but, ironically, that was when she thrived. When people told her that she couldn't do something, that was when she was her most determined to succeed, and she wasn't going to let the traditional views of the pureblood families stand in her way when there was something she wanted to do. And she knew, now, how desperately she wanted to study ballet; to be like the dancers she'd seen on stage the previous day. She expected she'd have reached that conclusion before the cut-off time tomorrow morning, but it had certainly been cemented by Ron's attitude and the expectations she was about to smash – because nobody told Hermione Granger what she should or shouldn't do with her life.

"Neville," she said clearly and confidently, "I'd love to sign up to Magical Ballet with you."

A/N So, this story has been with me for well over a year and it's been my own secret little Theo/Hermione project that I've been working on when the muse for my other stories has evaporated. I kept it to myself for so long because there was no pressure to keep writing as it was just mine, but there comes a point when you've got to dangle it out there a get some feedback. Hopefully you guys will grow to love this as much as I do. I know there was no Theo yet but this is actually his story far more than Hermione's, so get ready for lots of Theo PoV in the future.

Anyway, let me know what you think - interested to read more?

Love,

Red