Any Way The Wind Blows Doesn't Really Matter To Me Finished

Finally, a moment away from classes for EmmaLee to explore the school. She had heard a pair of older students in the common room talking about a rehearsal room and today she intended to find it. It would be nice to get an hour or two of cello practice in before dinner and then should could regularly get back into her practice routine.

After her last class she ran down to her dorm room and flung the door open to reveal Minx, her cat, sprawled out on top of her bed. "Bonjour, Minx." Hello, Minx. She said, putting her bag on top of the be-butterflied trunk at the end of her bed. She took off her outer school robe, leaving just her school uniform, and put that on top of her bag as well. She moved over to the corner where a deep, midnight blue cello case was stood, carefully grabbed it by the handle and turned to her furry friend.

"Tu veux venir t'entraîner avec moi?" Do you want to come train with me? She asked Minx, who had moved to curiously watch her girl flit about the room. In answer, Minx stretched, stood up, gracefully hopped off the bed, and trotted over to the still open door as if to say, "Of course. What's taking you so long?"

EmmaLee nodded and the pair headed out the door, softly closing it behind them, through the Hufflepuff common room, and into the school hallways.

EmmaLee had remembered hearing that the rehearsal room was on the fourth floor and so the pair quickly made their way through the maze of hallways and up the active staircases to the appropriate floor. Once there, it was very easy to find the grand door labeled: rehearsal room.

The white haired girl marveled at the splendor of what was merely a rehearsal room. She checked the sign to make sure this was indeed a rehearsal room and not a performance room. Minx, unimpressed as always, trotted over to the largest patch of sunlight on the floor, stretched herself out on her back, and promptly fell into a snooze. EmmaLee chuckled at her feline friend, placed her cello case in the middle of the floor, and went to grab a chair to bring over to her case.

She jumped about a foot in surprise when someone said, "Oh look! A lovely cellist. What do you think she will play for us today?" "Maybe Greensleeves, that's one of my favorites." "Greensleeves is so overrated and overplayed." "You take that back."

The small student whirled around to try and find the source of the voices and could only see the various portraits hanging along the walls of the room. Maybe this was the source. They seemed to clam up when they realized they had startled her.

"Um....I uh I was thinking of something more....modern?" She said, sheepishly, not realizing that she would have an audience to her practice.

"Don't mind them, deary." Said of portrait positioned directly across from the door. "They are just full of hot air and bickering and boredom since the students are only just returning from the summer. Play whatever you would like and I am sure it will be splendid." The woman in the portrait made a sweeping gesture towards EmmaLee's cello. "And if you would like less of an audience, we will happily give you your privacy." The portrait looked sternly at a particular corner of portraits, who nodded politely.

"O-Oh no. It's quite alright. My parents watch me practice all the time." EmmaLee said, pushing a lock of white hair behind her ear. The portrait woman nodded graciously and smiled as EmmaLee picked up the chair and carried it, with some difficulty, over to her case.

She pulled her long white hair into a high pony tail, sat down, and began to pull out her cello. It was a beautiful instrument. Bright blue with splashes of other tones splashing over it like waves of water crashing over rocks.



EmmaLee set the instrument up expertly: knowing exactly how long to make the end pin, tuning it quickly with an expert ear, and delicately sweeping the rosin across her bow before she leaned over the instrument, placed the bow on the strings, and began to play.

She started with a few rounds of fingers exercises and beginner songs considering that she was unable to play at all during the month of summer camp, then moved on to the more contemporary song that she had mentioned.

https://youtu.be/8UsbhZPGfGk

As she started, she took a calm, deep breath and began to sing as well. Her voice was a soft soprano that came off like a bell: clear and sweet without her clearer accent when she spoke. Her control over her instrument and her voice were clearly well practiced.

"Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landside, no escape from reality. Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see...." She sang out. Playing out the song for the portraits, herself, and her cat, she got lost in the music, concentrating hard on both the lyrics and the notes.