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Alicia Spinnet-Pucey ([info]_alicia_) wrote in [info]finnigans_rpg,
Sometimes it felt like an itch she couldn’t scratch, this need for… something. No, not just something, but change. The problem was that Alicia wasn’t sure what it was she wanted – or rather needed – to change, she just knew that once she had gotten the ball rolling when she had applied to university, this urge had started to grow. What she did know, however, was what she didn’t want to change, which in many ways was half the battle, but still. She had started reclaiming her life again, and now she wanted to go all the way.

This was how she had ended up here in the dance studio not too far from her home. Thinking back to how she had used to dance at any chance she could find. And it hadn’t mattered if it was ballet or ballroom or early 90s hip hop. Well, now she was at least 10 years older, which made the latter nearly impossible to find, and still not certain that dancing was what she was missing, asking Adrian or Oliver to start up ballroom dancing with her seemed a bit too much. So, she had sought out the studio that had seemed the best fit for her, and had been allowed in to watch one of the advanced classes to get an idea of how the place worked.

It had been amazing, really, and just watching the dancers, Alicia had practically felt the pressure against her toes and the stretch in her muscles and ligaments as the standard moves had turned into a story narrated by moves. One woman in particular had caught her attention. Not because she was the best of the best – she was great, no doubt about that, but she wasn’t a professional – but because she looked familiar, and Alicia just couldn’t place her. At all.

Not until after the lesson had ended and the instructor had come over to give the last informations and answer any questions. Seeing the woman pull on her warm clothes had her mind flash back to the minutes after a Quidditch match, when the players would do the exact same thing. The woman wasn’t Muggle. She was a witch, and not just any witch; she was Gwenog Jones. And by the looks of it and what little Alicia had unintentionally overheard of the conversation she had just had, she felt she had some physical trouble.

As soon as it was possible without being rude and before the other woman left the studio, Alicia excused herself to the instructor, and went to the other witch. “Excuse me,” she said as she came up to her. “You’re Gwenog Jones, right?”


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