Nocturne PV R. Devereux

There is no shortage of talent at Hogwarts. One of the most prominent wizarding schools in the world, its students can be described as nothing less than, remarkable. Naturally, there are exceptions, and quite a lot in fact - of which Rafal does suspect come primarily from the infamous house of valour, no offence to them - but there is more than enough exceptionalism to make up for it,

Rafal likes to think he belongs to the remarkable bunch. He is not by any means conceited, but the Slytherin does very much believe he has achieved that in his time at Hogwarts thus far. There is not a single subject he has not reached distinctiveness in, and he is, as they say, crushing it. However, non-subject skills are another matter.

Do not ask him what possessed him to go down to the Hogwarts rehearsal room this day, because Rafal truly does not know. He went once, back when was a wide-eyed, clueless first year and was exploring every nook and cranny of the castle he could (Oh, the things he discovered! But that is a story for another time), and then never returned. Why would he? Rafal is not too vain to admit that when it comes to musical aptitude, he has - what is the word? - none.

Zero, zip, zilch, nada. It is not something Rafal has ever gotten much hung up on. After all, he has his gifts. For one, he dares anyone to find a person with prettier hair than his. But today, something compels him to go down to that place, and the second year sees no reason to ignore his compulsions. It is likely a problem which will get him into trouble one day, but apparently, not this time.

When he softly pushes open the heavy oak doors, Rafal is greeted by a most unexpected spectacle. The first thing he notices - or rather, hears - is the music. The harmonious melody fills the room, unfolding in a gentle, flowing tempo. He is no music expert, but it all feels rather dreamlike, melancholic.

The musician can only be the lone girl sitting before a large piano, vivid red-gold curls falling into her face. Huh. She might have even nicer hair than Rafal. Respect.

As her fingers continue to fly over the keys, seemingly unaware of any intruder, Rafal carefully steps into the room and discreetly shuts the door, mindful not to make any noise. He simply stands there by the entrance for a while, listening.

All good things must come to an end, and melodies are no different. As the notes wind down and chords fade into nothingness, Rafal lets out a breath he did not even realize he was holding. He approaches the girl and her piano, cannot help but clap at the performance. "Brava!"

Interacting with @Taliesin Annwyn

In a split moment, her little bubble of solitude was shattered. Taliesin flinched at the sudden clapping, nearly dropping the music in her hands as her attention to the door. The girl froze in place, her face flushing nearly as bright as her hair as she realized that she hadn't been quite as alone as she'd thought. There in the entrance stood a boy. How long had he even been standing there?

Bright hazel eyes flickered over the lad as he approached, trying to place him and deduce as quickly as possible the probability of this being either a positive interaction, or a negative. Thus far, she'd had a pretty even measure of both, but she wasn't naive enough to ignore how easily those scales could tip in either direction. She still wasn't very familiar with many people, but she thought she might've seen him before around the Common Room or maybe in passing in the halls on the way to classes? It didn't escape her notice that he was rather striking; between the fair curls and blue eyes, he looked like a perfect type cast of some prince or knight from the stories she use to read at home. Surely if they'd met already she'd remember him.

Her mouth opened, then closed again, vaguely registering that he was complimenting her performance as she tried to find her words. Taliesin wasn't great with people; not for lack of enjoying people, but for lack of exposure engaging with them independently. Hogwarts was proving to be quite a learning curve in that department when the majority of you life you have a rigid Governess whispering over your shoulder when and how to respond appropriately, with the general rule of thumb being to not speak unless spoken to, and to keep her responses brief and direct -- after all, there wasn't much of anything of interest she might have to contribute without putting her foot in her mouth and potentially embarrassing her family, "I-...Th-thank you." she finally managed out, smoothing back a rogue curl from her face.

"H-how um... how long were you standing there?" she asked softly, trying to smooth out the nerves from her voice. Taliesin had some experience play for small audiences outside of her own household, but typically it was for friends of her parents. Taliesin always imagined that she must have some level of admirable skill if her parents would showcase her, even for only a handful of songs, to their peers before she would be dismissed again. However, it was always with the reminder that any praise received was solely out of social nicety and politeness, and to take it with a grain of salt. That there was always room for improvement.

The girl must truly have been very engrossed in her piano-playing, for her reaction to Rafal’s reveal of his person can be described as nothing less than theatrical. A sharp flinch, and her face proceeds to slowly match her hair, frankly an impressive feat. It does not escape the boy’s notice how her striking hazel eyes flicker over him, assessing and considering. The notice does not deter or offend Rafal in any way, rather the opposite - getting truly challenged is rather terribly invigorating for him.

Alas, this girl’s scrutiny seems to have been more out of anxiety than calculation. Rafal’s single-worded praise seems to have rendered her speechless, and while he would quite like to think he is simply that good at compliments, the second year sincerely doubts that is the issue. Maybe he was too direct, perhaps the girl is just a shy sort. The last thing he wants is to place anyone is a situation they feel distressed in, despite what his house sortment might suggest.

Coming to a halt a few feet before the redhead, Rafal tries for a reassuring smile. "You’re welcome," he acknowledges, then adds, "Not very long, though definitely enough to hear how splendid you are at that." He nods toward the piano. He can’t really tell what she was hoping for when asking the question, thus kept the answer vague and hopefully mollifying.

"Where are my manners?" Letting out a short, self-effacing laugh, Rafal smooths down his clothes, followed by an exaggerated bow. "The name’s Rafal, pleased to meet you, and to hear your lovely tunes as well. And may I just say," he continues, "You, my dear friend, are one of the most adept pianists I’ve ever heard. You must have been practicing for an awful long time!"

Interacting with @Taliesin Annwyn

Taliesin fidgeted with the music in her hands a moment before finally setting it aside on the piano. At least he hadn’t been there for very long. Taliesin wasn’t entirely sure why the prospect of a longer presence felt more mortifying than just being there for a couple minutes; perhaps because of how oblivious to her surroundings she had been. Taliesin had yet to discover all the ideas and hobbies that might ignite the soul, she was only 11 after all; But she was pretty sure that piano was the closest she had so far.

Perhaps it was that reason that made her feel so embarrassed, because she’d been caught red handed in a vulnerable moment where she didn’t have to be a Daughter of the Ancient House of Annwyn, she was just being Taliesin. And just being one’s self in front of others could be a scary prospect sometimes. By this point, she was fairly certain that the only person who'd ever seen Taliesin just be Taliesin was her Nanny, and that was only because the woman raised her. Nanny only wanted for her to be a happy, healthy child. Everyone else expected a perfect heir.

As he offered his dramatic bow, the girl couldn’t help but crack a small smile before standing from the piano bench and offering her own modest curtsy, “Thank you.” She spoke, still feeling her cheeks burn under his compliment, “My parents started me when I was little.” The girl explained, “I think I've practiced nearly every day since I can remember. My governess told me I should continue while I’m here if possible.” It felt a little easier to speak more confidently when the responses were able to be so objective, and the bundle of nerves in her chest loosened their grip slightly, “I’m Taliesin, First Year Slytherin. I’m sure the pleasure is mine.”

She shifted a bit awkwardly on her feet. It was proper for one to reciprocate the conversation on some level, otherwise it wasn't much of a conversation at all; and if she was going to succeed at this whole 'making friends' thing, she had to put in some effort as well, "Do...do you play?" yes, that was a good start. Surely if he'd made the trek all the way here, it must've been in pursuit of his own musical interests.

Rafal is glad to see the girl’s demeanour visibly loosen, words less skittishly strained and even cracking a smile. She opts to returns his thespian gesture, which delights the Slytherin quite substantially. He has found he rather loves to… assuage others, for lack of a better word - there is just something about witnessing the gradual change from trepidation to ease, that gives him such an inexpressible sense of complacency.

"Taliesin," Rafal repeats, tone commendatory. "That’s gorgeous." He looks to her solemnly. "If your parents managed think up such a name for you, and foster such musical talent - I would very much like to formally commend them!" Coming on a little strong? Without a doubt, though the boy himself certainly does not realize it - and likely will not for quite a few years. The thing about Rafal, he is prone to being overtly complimentary upon meeting new people, and reception tends to be either highly positive, or - well, very much the opposite. It’s all rather a roll of the dice.

He laughs in delight at Taliesin‘s reveal of her house. "No kidding!" Grinning, the second year can’t help but take an eager step forward. "So am I! How about that? Guess the snakes are really something else, eh?" It is not unpredicted that Taliesin would somewhat expect Rafal to at least hold some sort of interest towards the musical arts - he is here, after all - even if she will be surprised by the answer.

"Ah, I’m afraid not," Shaking his head, Rafal says regretfully. "No aptitude for music here at all, and certainly not for lack of trying!" There is a whole story there, but one for another time. A silence falls for a second as he contemplates. "Hey," he says suddenly, "Do you wanna play something else? I would love to hear it again." Then Rafal invites himself to the piano bench and sits down to one side, smiles up at Taliesin encouragingly as he pats the cushioned space next to him. "Come on!"

Interacting with @Taliesin Annwyn

Taliesin felt her face burn a little under his enthusiasm; and for a moment she wonders if in some way he's mocking her with his theatrical way. Though as he continues on, she settles that he must be being genuine in his enthusiasm. Her eyes track across his face and flick over his movements, trying to discern for any hint that he's being anything less than genuine, "I'll pass along the message of your approval then." she giggle, feeling a little coy about the whole matter.

She feels a bit more of the tension ease when Rafal tells her he is also in Slytherin, thus marking one of the first (and few) positive interactions with her fellow snakes she's had so far. So many of their housemates, at least of the one's that she's met so far, have been either barking mad, rude, absolute trouble makers, or some amalgamation of all three. Not exactly ideal in her eyes, and it made the entire task of settling into her new 'home-away-from-home' rather difficult.

The girl couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when the lad admitted that he wasn't exactly the musical sort, but he seems well practiced in the art of pivoting away from his deficiencies as he. A short lull falls upon the conversation, and before Taliesin can think of something else to contribute to hopefully keep the prospect of leaving this interaction with a friend alive, he's already made himself comfortable on the piano bench; patting the cushion beside himself and imploring her for another song.

It felt strange, having someone actually wanting her to play for pleasure and not for the sake of showing off her accomplishment as a sign of her 'refinement'. Just playing for the sake of music... because he'd liked her playing. Taliesin could feel the heat creeping over her cheeks again, "Sure. I'd love to." she spoke, albeit a bit shyly, picking up the sheet music again as she took her place by him. And after a moment of sifting through pieces, she arranged her selection on the stand and tested out the first couple of notes to find her place as she settled into a slightly off center position.

She wasn't use to someone sitting with her at the piano, but she was familiar with the piece that it wouldn't take much for muscle memory to adjust to the slightly off position. The girl had settled on Fur Elise, by Beethoven. In her opinion, a fairly iconic song. At the very least it was a bit more upbeat and hopefully Rafal would find it recognizable.

Her fingers danced easily over the keys, through the swells and falls of the music. As the piece picked up in its speed and complexity, it felt like her fingers were skipping like a child over a familiar path before slowing once more into the iconic melody the pieces was most well known for, then back into the deeper notes before building; the music carrying and notes twittering away again like birds rushing back to the nest in the rain before safely making it home to the main melody again.

Taliesin had probably imagined up a hundred different stories in her mind for all the different music she'd learning over the years. Her imaginings running away with her mind as her hands carried on on auto-pilot and the rest of the world could simply fall away. Though, this time at least, she didn't allow the rain or birds or skipping children carry her mind off with them. She stay present. Partially because she might've been trying to show off a little bit with the harder parts, and she really, really didn't want to lose focus and mess up; and also because she wanting to sit in the moment of this first, where someone, who wasn't Nanny or friends and acquaintances of her parents, was actually listening.

Maybe it was silly or stupid of her to think so much of something so simple, but she simply couldn't help herself.

As the music began reached it's last measures, hazel eyes tore from her music and flickered to glance over to the boy at her side, trying to gauge his reaction. Once the notes finally reached their end, she folded her hands neatly in her lap before properly looking over to him.