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Harry closed the door behind him and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. The tension leaked out of him the longer he stood in his safe space and was just able to breathe. Somehow his sixth year at Hogwarts was worse than all the previous five combined and he didn’t even have an insane megalomaniac after his life anymore.
He had finally gotten rid of Voldemort at the end of his last school year in a big showdown at the Ministry of Magic and as if that didn’t have all the gold-diggers and fangirls clinging to him on a daily basis already, he had also taken control of the Potter lordship over the summer when he had turned sixteen. The attention was annoying, and the amount of bonding offers he received was staggering. His dad was having a great time turning all of them down on Harry’s behalf.
Humming under his breath as he was finally able to relax, Harry stripped out of his uniform and changed into the exercise clothes he kept in his studio. He had to get special permission before first year to get it installed and he had never once regretted it. Here, he could always escape and indulge in what he loved most in the world – to dance.
He flicked his wand at the magical gramophone and relaxing piano music started playing. Harry smiled slightly as he listened moving to the centre of the room for warm up stretches. At home, his dad would most often play for him when he was training, but that was not possible at Hogwarts, so his parents had managed to get the music enchanted into the gramophone.
Harry had been fascinated with all things dance – and especially ballet – since he was four years old. His adopted fathers, Sirius and Remus, had taken him into Muggle London during Christmas time where they passed an electronics store that had its complete storefront taken over by TVs. On one of them a ballet had been playing and Harry had been instantly captivated.
He had allowed Sirius to carry him away from the store only after extracting a promise that he would get a book on ballet that same day. The book was joined by a music box with a small, spinning ballerina in it a few days later and just after New Year, Harry had started dance class in a ballet studio in central London. For his sixth birthday, he had gotten his own studio at home.
Deeming himself sufficiently stretched, he took out his pointe shoes and sat on the floor to lace them up. He received two new pairs every summer when he returned for lessons at his dance school and he shored them up with preservation and strengthening charms to keep them from wearing out too quickly. It was a miracle that he even had time to practice these days, but even if he really didn’t he made time. Not being able to dance always left him bereft in a manner that he had never been able to explain to anyone.
Content that the shoes were done right, Harry moved over to the barre that was anchored to three sides of the room in front of floor-to-ceiling mirrors. He went up on pointe and moved through the familiar exercises watching himself critically in the mirror as his teachers’ voices echoed through his head. They always gave him three sets to train during the school year captured on DVDs for him to memorise though his dad allowed him use of his pensieve for that.
They would let him teach one of the summer courses for children next year if he did them well once he got back to London and Harry was determined to be perfect. He adored working with the children at the dance school and their enthusiasm fuelled his dream to open a magical dance studio. Dancing with magic was just so much more and something he could only do when alone for now. Not even Hermione – who was the only one of his friends who knew of his dancing and had watched him training several times – had seen him dance with magic.
Harry let go of the barre and reached out with his magic to change the music. It seamlessly flowed into the notes for his first set and he didn’t even have to think as his body followed the rhythm in the steps he had memorised. His magic surfaced on his skin, swirls of sparkling green and gold moving with his body and Harry let go.
Theo had found the room by accident at the beginning of fifth year. He had just wanted to find a quiet place to study in peace and escape from the mayhem that was Hogwarts. Having grown up as an only child in a pureblood household meant that he was used to silence. Though he had had contact with his peers growing up, he spent a great deal of his childhood isolated with only books and the hippogriffs his family bred for companionship.
Hogwarts had been a big shock to his system, all the noise and chatter grating on his senses. Now in his sixth year, Theo had grown used to Hogwarts, but he still craved to be alone and undisturbed sometimes. While Slytherins were usually not loud or rambunctious even the low chatter in the common room was distracting for him, and his dormmates could enter the dorm at any time so he felt unable to relax there.
Even the library had not been a safe haven for Theo like it had been for many others like Granger. The swishing of robes as students moved between shelves, pages rustling, people whispering, and Madam Pince’s incessant shushing noises rendered him unable to concentrate. So he had gone looking for a place to withdraw and have peace when he stumbled across the peculiar room on the third floor.
He had assumed that it was just another unused classroom covered in dust after years of being out of use. The elves took good care of the castle, but they hardly bothered with the old classrooms, not that Theo could blame them. Cleaning up after hundreds of students was probably more than enough work.
However, instead of another dusty old classroom, Theo had found the oddest room he had ever seen. Three of the walls were huge mirrors with some kind of bar attached at about hip height. The floor was laid out with wood instead of stone and in one corner were a gramophone and a small chest. Theo hadn’t touched either because the room was clearly regularly used by someone even though the door had only had a simple locking charm in place like all the other rooms he had investigated.
Over the year, he had gone back to the room from time to time, partly because he was fascinated by it and wondered what it might be used for and partly because he hoped to come across whoever was using it. He never stayed very long feeling that he was intruding on someone else’s space, but sometimes he stayed a few peaceful minutes because the room just had an atmosphere that could soothe frayed nerves.
It was already several weeks into sixth year and it was the first time Theo was going back to the room. The insanity this year was much different than in previous ones when dealing with preparations for N.E.W.T.s and having Harry Potter as a year mate. Theo genuinely felt sorry for the man because for every class they shared (and probably those they didn’t) there was a gaggle of girls waiting at the end of it ready to ambush the poor sod.
Maybe he should tell Harry about the room, it would probably be a good place to get some privacy. Though it was unlikely the Gryffindor would even listen to him and for Theo to prove that not all Slytherins were arrogant twats like Draco Malfoy. He would be wondering if one of his parents had dropped the blonde on the head as an infant if he wasn’t ninety percent certain that he had not been held by anyone other than a house elf. What a depressing thought.
Frowning to himself at his wandering thoughts, Theo came to an abrupt stop as he heard music playing. As always the corridor was deserted and as he stepped closer to the mystery room he confirmed that the soft piano music came indeed from the room. Hesitating Theo stared at the door as if it could make a decision for him.
The room was clearly occupied, and Theo was unsure what he should do. He wanted to meet the person who was using it but felt reluctant about invading their privacy and didn’t want to ambush them when they were leaving. He could walk away if he didn’t know that his curiosity would keep him preoccupied the rest of the week. It might be his only chance to see whose room this was and what they were doing there.
Realising how ridiculous he must look standing in the middle of the corridor staring at a door like it might attack him, Theo grabbed the door handle and, with a deep breath, pushed open the door. At the sight that awaited him, he felt like the air got punched right back out of his lungs. Almost immediately he recognised Harry (how could he not when the Gryffindor’s mere presence commanded attention in any room he walked into?) and he seemed to be lost in a kind of intricate dance.
Theo watched swirls of green and gold whirl around Harry and realised after a moment that it was the other’s magic. Not a spell, but pure magic that followed his every move. Some powerful people could make others feel their magical aura but making one visible without extra spellwork was basically a myth. It made him wonder how powerful the newly minted Potter Lord really was.
Though in the forefront of his mind was just one thought. Harry looked absolutely breathtaking.
Even without wards, his eyes half closed, and the door swinging silently, Harry felt the instant foreign eyes were on him. It couldn’t be Hermione because she never came without Harry inviting her or at least knocking first. He followed another few steps of his set before he slowed down and let his magic retreat back under his skin.
With a wave of his hand, the music stopped and only then Harry opened his eyes fully and turned around. Theodore Nott was standing in the doorway looking like lightning had struck right in front of his feet. Harry felt slightly smug at being the cause of the usually stoic Slytherin losing his composure so thoroughly.
“You might as well come in,” he said, making a sweeping gesture with his arm. With a flick of his wrist Harry’s wand came out of its holster and three spells later he had conjured two chairs and a glass of water for himself. Nott had moved a bit further into the room and with another wave of his wand the door closed behind his classmate.
“So what can I do for you?”, Harry asked as he leaned his forearms on the back of his chair. He was still too wound up to sit down, but he gestured for Nott to take a seat on the other chair which he did almost gingerly. Harry suppressed a snort and took a sip from his water as he waited for Nott to speak.
Nott opened and closed his mouth a few times frowning as he was clearly unsure what to say. “I… I found this room last year by accident,” he said eventually, “I just wanted to know what it was and who was using it, so I came back from time to time. I didn’t mean to intrude on you, I was just very curious. You looked very beautiful dancing like that. Just…for the record.” The flush rising on Nott’s cheeks showed that he probably hadn’t meant to say that last bit.
Harry felt an answering blush heating his face. “Thank you,” he said quietly, “it’s called ballet and I’ve been doing it since I was four. It’s quite popular in the Muggle world and this is how most studios for it are set up,” he gestured around the room. “I hope to open a studio for magicals after Hogwarts,” he admitted though he was unsure why he was telling Nott this. He barely knew the other boy.
Surprisingly, Nott seemed enthusiastic about the idea. “Really?,” he asked, immediately followed by, “do you think, you could teach me?” He blushed again and looked down at his hands that were clenching and unclenching on his lap. Harry considered his answer slightly leaning his head from side to side in thought.
“Theoretically, yes, I could teach you, but it would be quite hard for you. Most people start ballet when they are young children, because the body needs extensive training to move the way a ballet dancer needs it to move,” Harry explained and eyed the Slytherin critically, “why would you want to learn? You’ve barely seen anything.”
Nott fidgeted with his hands in a way that was very unSlytherin in Harry’s opinion. It was not often that he had seen a member of the house of snakes lose their cool so completely. Then the other boy looked up and squared his shoulders. “You’re right. Maybe that was a bit hasty, but all I’ve been thinking about these last few minutes is what it would be like in that moment and … what it would be like to dance with you.”
This time Nott blushed all the way from the roots of his hair to where his neck was disappearing into his shirt. Harry found it oddly endearing and realised at once that the mask Nott usually kept was not because he was distant and aloof, but because he was shy. He did have the physique of a dancer being lean and tall, and had probably some experience in ballroom dancing, but that was very different to ballet.
The part of him that was raised as a lord and that the Sorting Hat had seen when contemplating him for Slytherin was telling him that it might be a good idea to include Nott, to get someone else standing behind his dance school and the art that he loved. But Harry never let that make decisions for him.
The bigger part of him just longed to share this part of him with someone else. Hermione supported him and occasionally watched him with a look that Harry knew meant she was proud of him, but she had no interest in dancing herself and he understood that. But that didn’t quench his desire for companionship, a partner. “Look, Nott-,” he started.
“Call me Theo, please. I would like to know you better regardless of you teaching me and I think we should call each other by our first names,” No- Theo interrupted and Harry regarded him again before nodding.
“Right. Okay, just call me Harry then.” He hesitated for a moment getting his thoughts back in order. “Look, I have a proposition for you, Theo. Why don’t you watch a few of my training sessions? I’m also going to send a letter to my instructors for some information for you, and if you still want to learn, I will teach you as best as I can. How does that sound?”
No- Theo looked stunned like he hadn’t expected Harry to agree so readily. “That sounds very reasonable. I’d love to watch you some more. Do you have something in mind that I could offer you in return?”, the Slytherin responded, clearly falling back on protocol to deal with this unfamiliar situation.
Harry’s first impulse was to say that Theo wouldn’t owe him anything and then hesitated. The other boy had been raised by strict pureblood parents and was a Slytherin to boot, he would probably insist on giving him something in return if Harry decided to teach him ballet, so there would be no debts between them. “We’ll talk about that when the time comes,” Harry decided, and Theo nodded his acceptance.
Harry cast a tempus and was surprised that he wasn’t that much off schedule, he must have gotten to training a bit earlier than he thought. “I have about forty minutes of training left,” he told Theo, “you’re welcome to stay if you like.” The other boy eagerly accepted the invitation and Harry maneuvered him to sit next to the gramophone where he wouldn’t be in the way.
With two careless flicks of his wand, he vanished his chair and glass before restoring his wand to its holster. He contemplated for a moment and then decided to start his last set from the beginning resetting the music with a wave of his hand.
Harry took a deep breath when the music started playing, stood on pointe and started dancing. He easily fell back into the steps, but his magic stayed under his skin acutely aware of the dark grey eyes following his every move.
They didn’t know it yet, but every step they took from here on out would see them dancing right into each other’s hearts.