Dare to Care
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Early October 2026
Early evening.
Rehearsal Room.
After a much-needed trip to Hogsmeade earlier in the week, Jessamine had returned to Hogwarts with a stack of sheet music. The assortment was varied – Muggle Artefacts, after all, couldn't be expected to have much that actually went together, but that was some of its charm. She'd only purchased what she didn't already know how to play, with Walking in Memphis, Otherside, Hotel California and Under Pressure having been the recent finds.
Otherside was the one she ran through first. She brought her guitar with her to the rehearsal room, pulling the piano bench away from the upright and arranging her sheet music on the holder. After a few warmups, she got to work and promptly wished she were a bassist. Though utilising the lower strings and slower strumming could get the general feel of the song, it was hardly the same.
Next was Hotel California, which proved a bit more friendly to her brain. However, it wasn't a personal favourite, so she felt for a moment that she had to trudge through it. She set down her pick for a moment and leaned forward, cradling the guitar to her with one hand while the other leafed through the sheets to find – there it was.
Queen and David Bowie were, as far as she was aware, nothing if not rock icons. Though Jessamine likely was not nearly as understanding of the culture surrounding their music as a Muggle-born or a half-blood might have been, she'd still spoken to enough people and read enough magazines to understand that they had cultural significance. More than that, though, the music was just easy to get lost in.
With a smile, she started on the familiar riff, pleased to find out that it was hardly difficult at all. But next came the harder part: attempting to strum chords while maintaining that riff. Slowly, the song began to come together; Jessamine tapped her foot against the ground to keep time. Each time she played a few new bars, she would return to the beginning and try to bring the new additions together with the rest of the song, attempting to make it sound as fluid as possible. She was about halfway through when she took a small break to stretch her hands and have a look at the rest of the music.
@Henry Holbrook
Dare to Care
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| Location: Rehearsal Room | Date: Early October, 2026, Early Evening | Word count: 531 | Speech | Thoughts |
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After a particular Muggleborn's tearful first few nights in the castle, it had taken him a week or two before he'd stumbled across a mention of the room. At first, it was simply demarcated as the meeting place for one club or another that fluttered alongside all the others. The Rehearsal Room. Between the name and a cursory second glance at the musically-inclined club in question, he felt at least somewhat confident about the intended purpose of the place. So the blue-eyed Hufflepuffling had signed up for the club that very day and made dozens and dozens of new friends in the process.
And while we're telling ourselves fairytales, the eleven-year-old was the new Minister of Magic as well. Who are we kidding. Joining a club, even one revolving around something he enjoyed? That would require - shudder - putting himself out there, the horror. Merlin forbid Henry risked the terrifying prospect that he might actually enjoy the presence of those he'd be sharing Hogwarts with for the better part of the next seven years.
Now... in fairness, perhaps that was a needlessly harsh. The idea of socializing wasn't abhorrent to the boy, certainly. It wasn't even the thought that he'd be bad at playing - at least he knew that wasn't the case. It was a different sort of dread that gnawed at him: What if somebody calls me a mudblood for only knowing Muggle music? What if somebody wants to make small talk and I just... freeze up? Or what if I start rambling about something and they think I'm boring? Blimey, I struggle understanding people half the time at home, what if I mishear some magic word I don't know and make things awkward? What if they bother giving me a second chance and I mess up again? What if I don't even deserve a second chance? What if...
So, yes, confronted by an all-too-familiar and ceaseless thought cascade, the idea of not making friends in the first place was less painful than that of making them... then inevitably being rejected by them.
Two or three weeks after that realization - after the lonely meals and painful nights made him marvel at the fact that all his crying had failed to shrivel him up into a prune of a wizard - he finally took up the case that held his grandfather's guitar and set out in search of the Rehearsal Room. Alone. Because despite the overactive tear ducts he had now? He knew it would be one hundred times worse if his fears turned into a reality.
He'd managed to trudge all the way from the basement to the fourth floor and was just turning the handle when he heard it. The familiar dum-ditty-dum-ditty-dum-dum of his favorite song. Someone else here knew Under Pressure? Liked it enough to play it? The door creaked open, only a crack, and the brunette peered inside curiously. Only to get immediately startled as he realized it was one of the teachers - albeit one from a class he hadn't taken yet. Bloody hell, I just interrupted her, am I about to get detention?
"Oh! Um, sorry Miss! I'll just come back later."
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| Interacting with: @Jessamine Lancaster |