The Ballerina open closed

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When asked why she chose the rehearsal room and not the ballroom to dance, Ivy Bellamy would smile and with a soft shake of her head, explain that the ballroom floor was meant for those who did not need the grippy, "sprung" floors of the stage. The floors of the ballroom were a lot more slippery, which was rather unfortunate for ballerinas who needed to be able to spin and jump without sliding over. Ballet was harder than it looked, as those who were well trained in the art knew.

With her long brown hair piled into a bun and a blue crossover pulled over her white leotard, the Gryffindor peaked out from the wings, making sure no one else was in the room before tiptoeing as quietly as she could in her pointe shoes onto the stage.

Ivy did not know why she preferred to keep her practices private - she was not embarrassed for doing ballet, as she often told others about her passion, but whenever she found the rehearsal room anything other than empty, she crept away, only to come back at a later time. No one had ever seen her dance - some had asked, and the response had been a tight smile and a "Maybe another time", which meant never.

When she had arrived earlier, she had heard multiple voices on the stage and considered leaving it for that day. By the sounds of the group's conversation, they wouldn't be done for quite a while. But Ivy wanted to dance. She'd had such a bad week, and at the moment, ballet seemed like the only remedy. So she'd hidden in a room backstage for half an hour, warming up with her stretches, and only she was certain they were gone did she come out.

Ivy hurried over to the gramophone and fiddled with it expertly before classical music filled the room. She threw one last worried glance towards the door, and when she saw that it was still closed, she took her place in the centre of the room.

And then she began to dance.

Leaping and twirling, the girl threw her entire heart into the dance, channeling her frustration through the many jumps and turns. There was no place for gentle balancés and sweeping arm movements today. As she landed a grande jeté and stepped up onto her toes to perform an arebesque, Ivy wondered why she couldn't seem to talk to people. Why was it that whenever she said something, people always seemed to end up disliking her?

She spun round and round on her right foot because starting a jump series. Was it because she was too blunt? Ivy had always told herself it was just that other people were too sensitive. But not everyone in the world could be overly sensitive - she was beginning to realize that it was all her own fault. Her dance became faster and more passionate as her vision blurred from her tears - or maybe it was because her posé turns were too fast for her to control. But still she kept going, around the stage, until her foot slipped and she grabbed at empty air with a shriek--

She caught herself on the curtain of one of the wings, but that didn't stop her from falling over. Ivy sat there, breathing heavily, and wondered what had just happened for a moment. She had completely lost control - what had she been thinking? Ivy knew by dancing so fast and recklessly, she could have injured herself to the point that she would never be able to dance again.

She stood up and dusted herself off, ready to start again. This time, she would choose something slower and try to contain herself. Ivy was ready to forget about the tumble and move on.

Little did the young Gryffindor know, while she had been dancing so passionately, someone had slipped into the room without her noticing and had witnessed her fall.