A nameless melody pv Simon Kincaid finished

Simon loved music. He loved to listen to music, his favorites being jazz and American cronies like Dean Martin. He enjoyed playing music, and could play a variety of instruments - the saxophone, the guitar, and the piano. He also was a member of the children's choir back at his church in London so he wasn't afraid to sing, nor was he afraid to dance.

He spent a good amount of time there at Hogwarts in the Rehearsal Room, as it had a nice piano that always seemed to be in tune and the way the music filtered through the large room was as magical as the school itself. He was walking in just as he heard the girl and paused, glancing down at the instrument in her hand.

"Ukulele, huh?" he said as he approached, seeing now that it wasn't a violin like he had initially thought. "I don't think I've actually ever seen one of those outside of some of the 1950s American beach movies," he continued. He didn't mean it as anything bad. On the contrary, it was unique and interesting.

He approached and smiled kindly to her. "Sorry...I'm interrupting, aren't I? You probably were trying to play and here I am coming in and now I'm babbling incessantly and I'll just uh...I'll just stop now," he said and grew quiet finally.

@ Simon Kincaid

"Simon. Simon Kincaid," he introduced himself back as he came and decided he would stay, glad that he wasn't intruding and instead was welcomed to be there with her. Simon was always up for meeting new friends and perhaps this would turn into a new friendship.

Simon took a seat at the piano, but didn't play yet. He glanced down at the notebook that had rested next to the girl, curious whether it was coursework notes that she should be studying, poetry that she was writing, music that was to be composed, a to-do sort of list she needed to accomplish or perhaps sketches that she had done. It seemed a bit intrusive to ask though so he didn't - at least not yet.

"At your muggle school?" he repeated her words and smiled, glad that they already had something in common. Two things. They both liked to play music in the Rehearsal Room obviously, and now they both had attended muggle school and weren't native to this wizarding world that they had been thrown into.

"I went to a muggle school too, up until this year," he said to her. "We didn't have things like the ukulele. We had band and I always attempted to sway the teacher into making it more of a jazz band than just regular concert band with instrumental pieces. Worked sometimes, other times it didn't. I play saxophone. Well, for school. Also sing and play piano and guitar in general. I'd like to learn more instruments someday."

"Where are you from?" he asked. The accent sort of gave him a bit of an idea though.

Seeing Simon sit down on the piano bench she nodded lightly, listening to him speak before she turned her gaze back up to his. “Oh—well, I didn’t learn it IN school, my father use to play and I learned in the years I was attending the school.” pausing, she tilted her head lightly “Scotland, Dundee specifically, you?”. She still seemed to be thinking over something she wanted to say “I was thinking of learning more instruments, well, string instruments specifically.” keeping a light smile she spoke, her blue eyes glittering even in the more dimmed lighting of the Rehearsal room.

Dakota had always had a preference to stringed instruments, they had always seemed easier to her. Dakotas ukulele had the initials E.O. written on the side of it, under it rested Dakotas initials D.I.O. which had once again been written onto the side. The journal that rested against her thigh showed two pages, looking a bit worn, one showing plenty of writing. The other page showed what can be guessed to be lyrics and chords to a song, most likely the one Dakota was trying to play. Either Dakota didn’t mind Simon peering at the journal or she hadn’t noticed him doing this.

@ Simon Kincaid

"England. London, England," he answered. Her accent seemed Scottish and he liked that he had caught that. There seemed to be a fair decent amount of Scots there at Hogwarts, and he supposed that made sense since Hogwarts was located in the Scottish Highlands. He wasn't sure where Dundee was exactly, but it wasn't as if Scotland was that big. Neither was England either. He hadn't known too many Scottish before coming to Hogwarts but now he knew a great many. Good people, the Scots.

Simon looked over to the girl, catching the initials that were on the side of the ukulele. Two lets of initials, one on the top, one set below. Obviously the instrument wasn't her father's anymore but was now hers from the added initials. Had he given it to her? Had she inherited it? He didn't know.

He wasn't going to be rude and turn around and begin to play on the piano just yet because that would mean turning his back on a new friend. "Are you close with him?" he asked curiously. He sort of regretted asking such a question after it left his lips, as some of the students at Hogwarts had sordid pasts with their parents.

Pausing, Dakotas lips twitched lightly, as if she were thinking about how to answer the question that was just asked. “Well..I’m sure I would, he passed away when I was four.” though Dakotas look had now gone a bit somber, she didn’t truly seem to mind answering the question. She had been questioned on this many times, by multiple people who claimed to be trying to help her, now, it was almost like she was numb to questions like this. Taking in a light breath, she gave a small smile “he lived in America, that’s where he learned the ukulele before he moved to Scotland.” explaining this, Dakota ran her hand along the wood.

Biting her lip she blinked at Simon “I’ve never been to England, my brothers have, not me or my younger sister.” it wasn’t clear if Dakota was attempting to change the subject or this thought had popped into her head as she sat. Tilting her head lightly, she listened to the happenings around the two. “You can play if you’d like, it won’t offend me.” giving him another smile, she raised a eyebrow. Dakota had never really spoken with many people, so her travel to Hogwarts and meeting new people was a bit overwhelming to her. She was able to handle this situation, making a friend out of one person at a time.

@ Simon Kincaid

He could tell that it somewhat bothered her, at least he got hint of it, so he figured maybe it would help if he shared the fact that they were somewhat kindred spirits when it came to this. "Yea, my mum, she passed away when I was three. I've got some photographs but I don't remember her," he shared. He might not have remembered her but he admired her for all that he knew about her and what she had gone through in her lifetime. She was a strong woman and had been through so much.

"England is lovely. I'm partial to London but then again I really haven't been outside of it much. If you ever find yourself in the area, you should get ahold of me...I could be your own person tour guide. I think I know that city better than most," even despite being twelve years old.

Despite not spending much time out in the sunlight, that didn't stop him from taking advantage in all he could, whenever he could, in the city where he was born and raised.

Simon turned some, strumming a few keys on the piano. A few notes. Then he did more, slowly turning it into a melody. The door of the Rehearsal Room could be heard creaking open and another young boy, probably another first year, darted inside, being chased by two others. He dodged and weaved around them, around everything else, and caused the girl's notebook to slide across the floor. Simon watched, thinking maybe he needed to come to the first boy's rescue but then he noticed all three were laughing. "Take it somewhere else!" he shouted, standing up from the bench.

Having a stronger build and demeanor than most his age, one of the boys sort of paused and then the first scrambled out of the room as fast as he had come in. Simon sighed and picked up her notebook, glancing down to make sure it wasn't harmed as he handed it out to her. "Some people can be such gits."

Dakota had been listening to what Simon was saying, her mind drifting as she nodded along. She let out a breath, it was interesting, Dakota had many pieces of her father left, as he enjoyed documenting things, just like his mini replica that sat holding his ukulele. Dakota had been startled when the three came running in, the corners of her lips twitching into a light smile before her journal slid away. Letting out a soft laugh, causing her to snort, when the three went scrambling back out, she had moved to retrieve the journal. Smiling gratefully at Simon, she took the book he handed her, blinking “ah—thank you.”. When Simon was able to get a closer look, it seemed that the journal wasn’t Dakotas but rather her fathers, having the same E.O. initials along the top of both pages and dated to 1993.

Pausing for a moment, she tilted her head. “I’m sorry about your mom, Simon.” Dakota had many of her fathers things, like his mini replica who now sat comfortably where she was, liked to document things. Smiling, seeming to have processed the second part of what he said, she nodded “if I ever end up in England and possibly London I’ll make sure to give you a call.” Dakota was joking when she said this, not being exactly sure how she would call him. Now, she sat the journal in her lap and laid her ukulele along its back before she watched Simon.

@Simon Kincaid

There was a calm now that settled back into the room as the three scattered back out and Simon just shook his head as if he totally would never do such a thing - although he totally would. In fact, he probably had with some of his dorm mates on more than one occasion and sometimes even in the Library, much to the dismay of the librarian who wanted silence and order.

"Don't be sorry. I mean, it's my normal and all. Hopefully I don't seem insensitive by that," he smiled a little. "I just mean, its hard to miss someone you don't remember and I've got one hell of an aunt. She's absolutely amazing." He was lucky to have her.

Glancing down at the notebook, he did notice the handwriting didn't seem to be that of most girl's that he knew, which was a generalization, but also lead him to believe that" maybe it wasn't a girl's writing at all. "What's in there?" he finally inquired, curious as to it.


"I'm figuring not class notes, because one shouldn't mix business with pleasure," he then paused because that didn't quite fit the nature of the conversation, but he rolled with it anyway. "Although, I guess putting content of the courses into some mad ukulele song would be quite a way to study."