The Rehearsal Room

Years of blood sweat and tears invisible on the floorboards, the Rehearsal Room was a sanctuary to those who devoted their souls to the performing arts. Large, arched windows beckoned light into the room even on the dullest of days, reflecting off the polished floorboards and brightening the dark stone walls. The ceiling was high and domed, catching the whispers of the simplest melodies and reverberating them around the room. Spread across the floor from the centre was the Hogwarts crest, magically painted onto the wood to ensure that no dancer tripped on any odd bumps. Many artistic students led lonely lives with awkward interactions, and the school’s escutcheon was there as a subtle reminder that they did belong in the castle, no matter their differences from the rest of the student body.

In the centre of the domed ceiling hung a decorative chandelier. Little silver birds perched on its many branches, and the candles on their backs stretched proudly towards the ceiling. By night, mysterious wing-shaped shadows were cast upon the walls, creating a flickering spotlight in the centre of the floor for any talented student willing to take the stage. The candles always remained lit, even when the corridors were quiet, and the teachers were sleeping soundly in their beds. As long as a student could get past the heavy oak door, they were free to create a spectacle. One simply had to look at the silhouettes of wings on the walls to be reminded that they, too, could fly.

Watching these students take flight were the curtained portraits that were evenly spaced along the curved walls. Whilst the odd, snide remark was not uncommon, these paintings could always be counted on to gift a performer with a hearty round of applause. Their lips were sealed when it came to the doings of the room’s previous occupant, but somehow they always had something to say to a visitor. If a particularly shy student entered the room, the curtains framing the paintings would flap closed in disappointed respect, leaving the paintings’ occupants listening avidly until the door shut once again. The paintings applauded no matter the situation, aware that everybody needed to feel appreciated once in a while. When the doors slammed shut, and the room was empty, they chatted amongst themselves, discussing the talent that had graced the room that day.

However, as long as the heavy oak doors were open, a student was free to perform. The stone walls listened to heartfelt monologues and swelling songs, and a bar stuck to the stone provided support to the best of dancers through their hardships. Hogwarts had never been an easy place to thrive, but the Rehearsal Room provided an escape for those who needed it, convincing students that it was never too late to try.