The corridor of the fourth floor appeared to be relatively empty in that evening. Of course, no part of that crowded school could possibly be completely devoid of students roaming about, but for now, what actually mattered was that no one was approaching the ballroom. Nobody, other than a small, black-haired girl in her second year of Hogwarts, who looked left and right to make sure she wasn't being watched before opening the doors to the ballroom and sneaking inside quickly, as though she was fleeing from a crime scene.
Anna silently closed the door behind her when she stepped inside. She's been trying to slid through the hallways like a ghost, as unnoticeable as possible to avoid stumbling on any of her friends or acquaintances on the way here. Normally, she would be slipping away from people's sight to prank someone, stay up late without being caught, or to protect herself from the overwhelming flood of sensory input this castle caused in a daily basis. But today wasn't like that. The reason she tried to hide away from the general population of Hogwarts today was because of... Embarassment, to an extent.
As anyone could see, winter break was fast approaching, which meant the little Blackberry would soon be off to see her family, and as much as she couldn't wait to see them again, she had... a little issue. One of the activities she and her mother would love to do together, and one of the many ways Anna would entertain herself while sheltered from all parts of the world that did not belong to her family's domain, was dancing. The delicate, precise, joyful art of dancing. Naturally, her mother would expect her daughter's presence to dance again once she was back, and that's where the issue lied. Despite it typically being a hobby of hers, Anna failed to practice her movements during this semester in school. Either because of her studies, or because she was beginning to make a lot of friends she'd spend time with, or because she was reading, or because of her newfound interest in drawing. Eventually, she just kind of felt lazy and let this hobby of hers slip away from her mind. Not only that, but because of her major disinterest in most physical activities, she grew to stop exercising as much, save for the obligatory Flying lessons she hated so much.
That said, she couldn't allow herself to go home and find that she wasn't able to dance as well anymore, it was one of her favorite ways she'd spend the time with her mother, and she loved dancing. As such, she concluded it was necessary to practice her abilities again, and the ballroom seemed the most appropriate place for that. And still, she felt embarassed. After not having trained for so long, how capable would she be of dancing like before? The little Blackberry was taught to twirl and sway not too long after she learnt how to walk with her own two legs, and she didn't want to be seen as any less skilled than she normally was. Thus, Anna chose to train alone.
She warmed-up, and awkwardly began moving her body in an attempt of replicating what she knew. Initial position, ballet's fourth position. She took a breath and a few smooth steps to the left, and began twirling in the way she had done for so long. And sure enough, muscle memory was quick to kick in, and although a bit less perfect than the usual, each motion came naturally. Soon, she entered in a state of trance, not seeing anything that existed near her or hearing anything that could possibly be happening. In this moment, her hands swayed along with her body in fluid movements that came instinctively as she lost herself in this graceful form of art, turning her body into the most perfect form she could desire, showing the true extent of what it can do for and with her, following her commands flawlessy. The sound of her feet hitting the ground and leaving it again reminded her of home, when she'd forget the whole world while dancing with her mother, from waltz on exquisite afternoons to east coast swings on lively mornings. Sometimes, she'd see her parents dancing together at night, with such romance in their eyes and every movement, and even as a child she would sigh dreamily and aspire to one day have that same type of slow and doting love. Back at home, sometimes Anna would dance on her own. She particularly enjoyed the daintiness of ballet, though the practice was difficult, and the movements, painful. Still, the visible result was strength, and visual delicacy like no other.
In this blissful synchrony of body poetry and harmony, the child appreciated her own ethereal sways, and at that point, a grand jeté felt only natural. The leap itself was poised and elegant, though not without fault, and perhaps it was one of those little flaws that made her lose her balance when she landed in a twirl; perhaps she was too bold in trying such a difficult movement when she hadn't practiced for so long, even if every movement felt as natural as inhaling the soft fragrance of flowers when in a garden or admire the infinite sky in nights of full moon. The fact is, that girl had fallen, and as she tried to hold onto nothing in a vain attempt of regaining her capacity of staying on her feet, her arms flailed uselessy on the air and soon hitted the ground, followed by her head and legs. The physical pain of the moment was not worse than the frustration of being so brutally ripped from her perfect moment of transcendency of the soul, the perfect alignment of her passion, the memories that built her life, the abilities she had. The overall bitterness of the situation led her to yell out a not-so-delicate "F**K!!!" in loud and audible voice. Thrown on the ground, she looked at the ceiling, utterly dissatisfied. And yet, Anna closed her eyes and breathed to calm her annoyed heart. She remembered the conversation she had with her father one day.
"Your value does not depend on where you fail, but on where you choose to keep trying"
"Again", she told herself in the same stern tone she imagined her father would speak if he was capable of speech under normal circumstances. She stood up, and began dancing again.
