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Lily Evans absolutely despises early morning conditioning class.
Who is she, quidditch star James bloody Potter? Who thrives on waking up the whole castle as he voluntarily goes for his morning runs? Like an absolute lunatic?
No, Lily Evans is a dancer. A contemporary dancer who likes to sleep in, thank you very much. And conditioning with Professor Slughorn? She may be top of his potions class, but working out under his cold eye at stupid o’clock is absolutely hellish. No, thank you.
She can’t even use the excuse of being late because of transit, it’s a freaking boarding school. If you’re late or absent they can just show up to your room. Don’t get her wrong, she absolutely loves Hogwarts as a whole, but sometimes teenagers deserve to have a sick day simply because they don’t feel like going to class, alright? It’s not like she’d hole up in the dorm all day, she just wants that extra half hour of sleep occasionally.
Lily can hear Mary getting ready in the bathroom, no doubt using a million pins to tame her voluminous coils into her signature ballet bun. Lily is more of a high pony girl, herself — less hassle. Marlene left a while ago for quidditch practice, but at least those happen regularly, so she’s used to it. Conditioning is just randomly thrown into the dancers’ schedules some weeks for some ungodly reason. And listen, Lily may have the reputation of being a bit of a goody two-shoes, but it’s conditional. If it makes sense to her, she’ll apply herself, 100%, but if not? Well, then you get a prefect who doesn’t show up to conditioning and gets high with her girlfriend behind the greenhouses during lunch before contact improv. She contains multitudes.
Plus, there’s a transfiguration quiz today right after modern. Just because McGonagall teaches both doesn’t mean she’ll let you slack in the across-the-floor simply because you’re trying to go over the quiz material in your head. There’s no point in trying to study up now, anyway, not after the hours she spent at the library this past weekend, so might as well take advantage of whatever extra sleep she can get.
“Lils, you coming?” Mary lightly jostles her bed as she bends down to pick up her pointe shoe bag.
Lily grunts and buries her face in her pillow as a response, to which Mary just chuckles lightly. She knows Lily getting up for conditioning is a once in a blue moon occasion, and it’s useless to push if she’s decided today’s not the day.
“See you in transfig, sleepyhead,” Mary whispers as she closes the door on her way out.
Hogwarts is a funny little institution. It is both a magic school, and an arts school. A magical art school, if you will. You can learn how to turn a rat into a chalice, and how to do a pirouette in the same day. Sometimes taught by the same person, too. Although the arts courses are electives after third year, most students do choose to pursue at least one artistic endeavour. Some, like Marlene and Potter, choose to follow the athletic path instead, but most students have one big artistic focus in addition to the regular magic lessons. Mary and Lily actually met growing up doing ballet at a small muggle dance studio together, and they got lucky to receive their Hogwarts letter within days of each other. Mary chose to continue to pursue ballet, while Lily chose to pivot to contemporary dance, which led her to meeting Pandora. Even though Panda is in the year below her, most technique classes are done combining students from different years and houses, so they get to spend a decent chunk of time together in those, even if they usually have different rehearsal pieces.
A curious thing about the dance department at Hogwarts is also the lack of formal magic in it. Most other fields have specific techniques that incorporate magic in the art form deliberately, but dance is different. Photography students learn how to work with the iconic wizard moving photos. Illustrators also have their own spells and techniques to make moving drawings. Even theatre students get to use magic to amplify their voices for large venues so they don’t have to rely on microphones. Sirius is always harping on about how teachers are adamant about glamouring, that it must be done sparingly and purposefully, when sometimes he’d love to become a completely new person for a role. Even if they don't use magic as liberally as some other departments, they still very much do.
But dancers don’t, really. It kind of makes sense, how would one magically enhance an art form that’s purely movement based? You can’t magic your way into better technique, you just need to do it enough so it becomes second nature for your body to move like that. Maybe a weightless charm might be useful for lifts and such, but what about when you need to use your weight to drop low? It would need to be timed perfectly so as not to mess up with the rest of the choreography. Probably not worth the hassle, to be honest. You can accomplish seemingly impossible things with a well-oiled machine that can be a group of dancers. But one thing Lily has found that other mediums don’t have, is the level of embodiment dance requires. Really great actors also accomplish this, but it’s a different approach, and, at least in Hogwarts, they don’t include it in the curriculum right from the start.
Dance class at Hogwarts is a somewhat volatile environment, as the energy and intention behind movement can sometimes translate into magical energy being channeled through the body. It’s wandless magic, but in a more broad sense. It doesn’t often produce repeating and consistent output like students in a charms class are looking to achieve, for example. It’s a bit more… wild. And extremely compelling.
The first time Lily witnessed someone harnessing magic through dance was watching Andromeda Black back when Lily was only a tiny first year who’d only just found out about magic, period. The teachers hadn’t touched on this kind of magic with first years yet, since it takes quite a bit of practice to even be able to start experiencing a hint of it. But it was like Lily’s eyes just could not leave Andromeda’s form as she moved through the space. Lily had been nothing short of, well, bewitched, for lack of a better word. That was the day Lily decided she wanted to follow the contemporary path. She wanted to do what Andromeda did. Not that she couldn’t accomplish the same in ballet or some other style, but she felt a sort of calling that day. And she has not regretted that decision since.
Except for when McGonagall is yelling at her to get lower, move further, jump higher , and Lily just woke up barely 40 minutes ago, her brain is not fully online yet, alright? But dance teachers care not for the time of day. You are expected to just do it. They’re over 50 and they can do it, you’re 17, what’s your excuse?
Well, Lily thinks, I’ve only been doing it for the past 5 years, not 30+ years, give me a bloody break.
She does want to yell back sometimes, but she’ll take McGoo shouting instructions at her during morning tech class over Sluggy any day.
Modern with McGonagall is a fast paced class and Lily wasn’t exactly early this morning, so she barely gets time to squeeze Pandora’s hand hello before they’re lining up to do shifts across the floor — and since the sixth years have to rush out to make it to their quiz right after, she doesn’t get to kiss her until they reconvene behind one of the greenhouses for lunch.
One of Lily’s favourite things about Hogwarts is the freedom. So long as you get to class generally on time and respect the curfew (aka don’t get caught), students have pretty much free reign of the castle and most of the grounds. And weather impervious spells mean you’ll rarely find all of the student body in the Great Hall during mealtimes, unless they’re required to be there for an announcement or event. Lily’s quite fond of finding hidden little corners in which to eat her meals, be it in a group, with her girlfriend, or even just in her own company. Afterall, privacy is hard to come by at a boarding school and she does sometimes itch for some solitude. Being a younger sister meant she never got much time alone at home (before Petunia decided to ostracize her for being a witch), not that she really wanted it when she was a child, but she’s learned to appreciate it now.
Today, however, there’s a contact improv class after lunch, and you can’t really do contact improv alone. They have Professor Bingham guest teaching for a couple weeks, and even if Lily has to strain to pick up his quiet words in the big studio, his assistant Alex’s demos have been immensely helpful. It’s all upperclassmen class today, which means she gets to partner with Panda. And maybe if they want to get a little high before said class, ride it a bit into the highly tactile experience, who’s to stop them?
Another one of Lily’s favourite things about Hogwarts is Pandora.
Dancing with Pandora is unlike anything she’s ever experienced before. She was too young to really do any partner work at her muggle ballet studio back home, but she’s definitely become a fan during her time at Hogwarts, especially since becoming close with Panda. They’re just so comfortable with and around each other, that partnering flows naturally in a way that lowkey blows her mind every time. Obviously it’s important to dance with multiple people since everyone moves differently — and you can learn a lot from different classmates, assistants and professors. But something about partnering with your best friend and girlfriend just feels like coming home. It just works. Lily doesn’t feel any pressure to do good , or be impressive , she can just do what feels good and follow her impulses, knowing her partner will follow and support her. Even if that means literally physically pushing against her, because contact improv is funny like that.
There’s probably a metaphor for life in there, but Lily might be a bit too stoned to figure that out right now — content to be all over her beautiful girlfriend in a way that’s socially acceptable in this dance studio. Afterall, it’s called contact improv for a reason. If she sneaks in tiny little kisses wherever she can reach, well, what else is she supposed to do? Holding back impulses is literally what you’re not supposed to do. And it’s innocent enough, really. If a professional can literally choreograph simulated intercourse to put on a stage, Lily can press a chaste kiss to Pandora’s shoulder as they use rolling point of contact to go from standing to doing floorwork in class. And she stands by that.