Dance 'Til You're Dead FIN

Hex Colour:
#8C94E9

Many a mischievous Hogwarts student, when questioned of their intentions and hobbies, would say - as long as there weren't professors nearby - that they quite enjoyed exploring the many nooks and crannies of the labyrinthian castle they called home for most of the year. There were so many things to discover, from hidden hallways and disguised draperies to shifting staircases and changing chambers, that even seventh-years could leave the hallowed halls of Hogwarts not quite knowing every single one of this place's secrets, even having started sneaking into forbidden or secret places as a first-year.

But Aly Salinger had not the four years of rule-breaking experience that some of her fifth-year peers could boast. All she could speak to was six months' worth of the last school year, spent shut in her room with only an emotionally unavailable/physically distant mother and an overly worried house-elf to speak to, burying her nose in books about Quidditch fouls, wizard's chess, and the layout of a castle she so dearly missed. The first two had come in handy: she was back on the Quidditch team as of her return as a fifth-year, albeit only as a second-string Chaser for Ravenclaw, and she had whiled away many a bored, Rapunzel-esque hour in her room playing hundreds of different chess games against herself. Seeing as how her normal game partner would never again be able to pick up an Exploding Snap deck, it was one of the teenager's few ways of keeping her father with her.

And now, a month and a half in to her fifth year, Aly had begun to put the third hobby to use. Exploring the castle was certainly an interesting activity, and after that half-year (plus most of the summer) spent sitting within the same four stone walls in what was no longer the Salinger "family" house, she was finding a true passion in just... wandering. Staying on her feet. Keeping moving, all the time. Finding new places she'd never been before.

She was, however, avoiding the ghosts, as much as she could. There was something about their pale blue forms that just weighed heavily on her young heart, reminding her that some could come back from the dead, but not all. Not the most important someone.

So when Aly, on one of these restless roams of rumination and revelation, found herself at the entryway to a giant, dimly lit ballroom full of faintly glowing faded figures, she nearly spun on one heel and sprinted right out. Clutching her satchel, slung over her shoulder and resting heavily on her hip, with one hand, Aly took one scan of the room and felt a chill settle over her bones - though whether that was because of the ghosts themselves or just the slight cold they emanated and therefore was filling the room, she couldn't quite tell. The girl's world had been so full of the looming presence of death for nearly the past year that she felt exactly zero desire to be in a room that was practically brimming with it, with not a live soul to be found. She turned tail to run, so fast that her curly braid whipped around to hit her in the face, the skirt of her dress spinning heavily around her calves.

Except - there was a live soul within, and Aly slowly spun back around, having seen a shock of white hair that was both all too familiar and far too bright to be a ghost's. Her green gaze sought out the boy amongst all of the dead, clad in the white coat of a Muggle scientist and a blue scarf. The color scheme of neutrals and blues which he sported had almost acted as a camouflage in the ghostly ballroom, but Aly recognized him immediately, despite not having seen him in... Merlin, has it been over a year already, since that day in the DADA classroom?

His face was leaner, his hair longer and shaggier, his figure bigger, somehow - Aly wouldn't be surprised if, when he stood, he was quite a bit taller than her, but then again, he always had been. But it was unmistakably him, smiling a welcoming gesture that didn't quite reach his ghostly silver eyes, more sunken than they had been before a year that had, clearly, changed the both of the eagles.

Aly sucked in a breath through her teeth, stepping, almost without thinking, into the ballroom, towards him.

"Peri?"

@Aly Salinger

Pericles was an isolationist these days. He stayed secluded enough to mind his own business, but observant enough to notice when a fellow fifth-year was missing. Even if he had been avoiding a specific batch of students, he couldn't overlook an empty seat in the Great Hall and classes, nor the lack of a familiar face around the Common Room. Seeing her here of all places sparked a jolt of surprise.

"Aly. It's-" an awkward hiccup in the cadence of conversation "-good to see you." The pause, a forced smile, that easily missed undertone of uncertainty. It was a questionable reaction, yet Pericles hadn't lied: though they hadn't had the time to become especially close, he had a pleasant opinion of Aly. His reaction hinted more at a "right person, wrong place" mentality. It could have been that a part of him wasn't willing to face how things left off after that fateful DADA lesson. Frankly, he had hardly spoken to San or Dee since that day, either. He didn't want to explain what they had seen, or admit it to himself. The warped vision of his vampiric father still skulked along the edges of his blackest dreams. Yet Pericles had done a great deal of growing over the past year, both physically and mentally, now a whopping five-foot-seven and seeking some kind of closure. Avoiding his friends was making for a lonely last couple of years at school, as after all, ghosts didn't make the greatest company.

It seemed time was working its magic on them both. While Pericles grew into his height, Aly oozed a newfound maturity that he couldn't quite put a finger on. It wasn't the dash of tasteful makeup, nor the swap of comfy clothes for a smart dress, or even the more elegant angles of her face. There were surface level changes to be sure, but a shadow in her eye whispered of a far more profound shift. Peri pressed himself to stand and moved out from behind the little round table. As he crossed the banquet hall, his gaze held hers, unfamiliar with the sensation of having to look down to do so. Had they changed so vastly since the last time they spoke? "I haven't seen you down here before. Are you lost?" The ghosts didn't seem to pay them any mind, either unaware or uncaring of their newest intruder. "Come to think of it, I haven't seen you anywhere in awhile." Peri didn't tack it on as a question, letting the observation hang in the open air, to be addressed or brushed aside as she saw fit. He drew his jacket closer as his words turned to fog in the air.

Hex Colour:
#8C94E9

There had been, in the months since Aly's return, quite a few awkward conversations of "I'm sorry, who are you?" It seemed that between her stylistic changes and her absence, Aly was unrecognizable to those whom she had not held close. It pleased her, then, that Peri remembered her. They'd never been the best of friends, per se, but Aly had always had fondness for the quiet, strange boy with the ghostly pallor; from their original meeting during the Blossom Ball in second year to sending him a Valentine's Day cupcake in their third, and of course the boggart incident shortly afterwards, there had always been something about Peri that drew Aly to him.

Maybe he was just different - and Aly had always liked different.

Peri noted that Aly was not one for wandering in the depths of the castle, and that perhaps she was lost. Then, fateful words - "Come to think of it, I haven't seen you anywhere in awhile." It was true - they hadn't seen each other in that long of a time, partially because of Aly, but partially because of Peri, too. After that day in DADA, she'd only caught whispers of white hair and glimpses of a gaunt face disappearing round corners, and even those were few and far between. If he'd been avoiding her had been a concern for a bit, Aly's anxiety knawing at the inside of her stomach, but that had quickly been swamped with all of the other problems from last year. Comas and committals and collapses of correspondences and all that.

"Yes, I - er - took a bit of a sabbatical last year," she tried to brush off, nonchalantly, though if Peri still knew her at all, it would be plainly visible on her face. Hiding emotions had never been Aly's strong suit, especially when they were so strong as these. "But I hadn't seen you round a bit before then, either. After... well. Not for a bit." Perhaps she should have tracked him down, asked if he was all right after that scene a year and change prior... but it was too late now. It was too late for a lot of things now.

She cleared her throat, tiptoeing tentatively across the cold floor - the young Ravenclaw could feel the chill even through her shoes, or maybe that was just in her bones, what with all these pearlescent blue figures floating by. She cast them sideways, nervous glances as she approached the only other living being in the room, eyes darting about as if one was going to jump out and attack her. "I wouldn't say I'm lost, but, er, I don't exactly know where I am, either. What is this place?"

@Aly Salinger

It became all too clear, all too quickly, that the Ravenclaws were treading similar paths of avoidance and secrecy. Pericles had evaded every witness to his great shame, while Aly had been lost to the whirlrpool tide of a life that seemed set on pulling her under. They couldn't have planned the get-together, but thanks to the impromptu nature of their run-in, a conversation might actually be possible.

Only, taking a sabbatical...? Could you do that? Maybe it was less a matter of what she was saying than how she was saying it. He may not have known Aly especially well, but he knew enough to recognize that a laissez faire delivery wasn't like her, and he could tell when someone else was being deliberately distant. He did it all the time. But then they reached the turning point, that dark memory he'd been running from. After... well. It was Peri's turn to look like a criminal avoiding a spotlight. His eyes widened, if only by a fraction, then gave a telling dart towards the nearest wall. "Right. I'm uh, sorry you had to see... that." It was a good time to telepathically call a truce on question asking. Neither of them were willing to leap into what had happened, their walls had been up for too long now.

"What is this place?" Oh, thank Merlin. She was throwing him a rope and he took it in a heartbeat, gladly swinging to the next subject. "Some of them call it the Deathday Hall. It's a sort of 'break room' for the ghosts, I s'pose you could say. I found it while roaming around the dungeons, same as you, and kept finding myself coming back. Most of them don't pay me any mind, and most students avoid it on account of the cold." It could also have something to do with all the dead people floating around. "It's nice. Quiet, or at least...." Pericles looked up and around the blue-lit room. The ethereal voices of chattering ghosts echoed from the vaulted ceiling, sounding further away than they already were. "....mostly quiet. Like being alone and having company all at once."

Pericles put on that tired smile. Solitude seemed to suit him, and he only realized after the line left his lips that it might sound like he was averse to company altogether. He corrected himself, quickly, shrugging as he added "Not that I mind company, if you wanted to stay and catch up." A half-step was taken back towards the rickety table, with its two dusty chairs and creaky gramophone. "But if you're trying to find your way back out of the dungeons, it's a right after that corridor, the next left, and all the way on 'til you reach stairs." The invitations to stay or leave were left wide open.

Hex Colour:
#8C94E9

Awkward, avoiding conversations were something that Aly Salinger was all too used to, especially over the last year, but that did not mean that they were particularly enjoyable; thus, she was nothing shy of relieved when their discussion began to take a different track. Peri had his own secrets to keep, clearly, and Aly wasn't going to pressure him about them. She, too, was perfectly fine with leaving some walls built up, rather than tearing them down.

Deathday Hall. Merlin, that was... creepy. Aly knew that ghosts celebrated their deathdays - hell, she knew a fair number of things about ghosts now, having done some research into them in a grief-stricken stupor the previous winter in an unfounded pipe dream that her father could potentially come back as one someday. That specific thread of hope, as faint as the ghosts that fluttered by with brushes of chilled air, had long since been abandoned. But in every book through which she'd torn, every page green eyes had ravaged, there had been nothing about a... well... an old haunt for the ghosts of Hogwarts.

Perhaps she should have picked up Hogwarts, A History, but it would likely have just been too painful to read about a castle far away, full of friends she didn't know if she would ever see again.

"Y-you're right about the cold," the young Ravenclaw told her House companion, a chill sweeping through her and her teeth chattering briefly together as she pulled the thick woolen sleeves of her black turtleneck over the heels of her hands, hoping that would afford her even just a bit more warmth. (It did not.) "And I'm not usually one f-for quiet, but..." An emerald gaze swept across dark tiles, ornate architecture, a silver-haired boy seated lonely at the center of it all. If he could see the beauty in here, then to hell with it, she could too.

"Well, long as I'm not here by myself," she muttered under her breath, the barest of whispers, dead as the ghosts themselves.

Then Peri offered her the ability to stay, the opportunity, really. Aly considered for a moment turning back to the doors, following the directions he had so matter-of-factly suggested, but then her eyes landed on the table, chairs, and - Oh.

An old-fashioned record player sat atop the table, and Aly moved close to it as if in a trance, almost floating like many of the room's inhabitants. Thin, pale fingers reached out without consulting first with her brain, caressing freezing gold, though by now she barely noticed the temperature, too entranced with the memories dancing through her brain of a similar gramophone nearly nine hundred kilometres away, ghosts not of people, but of melodies. "Has this always been here?" she breathed, unsure if her heart had stopped beating or if the unheard music swelling in her ears was just drowning it out. The chill was lesser, now, somehow. She remembered, halfheartedly, that Peri was standing there, probably watching her, and she shook her head to clear it of the years past, though that didn't work very well. "Er - I mean, yes, we can sit here and... catch up. I want to hear about how you've been doing."

What she wanted to do was take in every square centimetre of the gramophone, of its rusting golden surface, of its familiarity. What she wanted to do was listen to an oldies record and feel the cold warmth of a ghostly hug. But she would settle for the warmth of an old friend... no offense.

@Aly Salinger

Peri smiled sympathetically at her chattering teeth and fogging breath. "I might have something for that," he thought aloud, moving for the table. The old book he'd been reading was grabbed on the way, its gilded title flashing Moste Potente Potions before it was shoved into the satchel hanging from his chair. Given the way Pericles' entire arms rifled around in the bag, it must have been enlarged on the inside. He eventually fished out a heavy, dark navy pea coat, which was offered over with an outstretched arm. "Here. If it works for sailors, it should suit you just fine, though you might want to roll the sleeves." He then turned to pull out the chair opposite his own, only to pause and frown down at the layer of dust covering it. While Callie made for the gramophone, Pericles drew his wand, waving it at the seat with a murmured "Tergeo." His spell siphoned the filth away, swirling it up in lazy loops before it vanished midair.

When Aly asked about the antique, it was the quiet reverence in her voice that pulled Peri's attention away from his hostly tasks. A shoulder was shrugged. "Dunno. It was here when I found the room, only the ghosts can't operate it, so I can't imagine who left it or why. Though, the thing is...." Pericles crouched alongside the table and drew back a ratty cloth like a curtain, presenting a crate of old records on the floor below. "... I've gone through these, and they're all different. Different artists, years, even genres. It seems those who hung around before us kept contributing to the collection. There's even muggle music in there." He grinned, pleased to share the unorthodox treasure, and admitted "Before I graduate, I'm going to add one of my own to the stack." An old Lorcan d’Eath record was spinning its final track, some broody goth-adjacent piece that came to an end as the Ravenclaw expositioned. Aly evidently wasn't the only one taken with the thing: a ghost drifted down from the overhead dancers, and as she floated by- not bothering to stop and talk- she droned "Would one of you be a dear and replace the vinyl?" Pericles watched her waft away with an amused arch of the eyebrow, then looked to Aly expectantly, adding "I almost forgot to mention: if you're corporeal, you get put on record duty. Want to take a look?"

Hex Colour:
#8C94E9

Aly watched in wonder as Peri's limbs dived shoulder-deep into his bag, pondering how exactly he had gotten his hands on a satchel with an Extension Charm placed on it - she was quite sure that they didn't learn that til seventh year, but maybe an older student or a parent had charmed it for him. What luck. Aly herself still had to deal with the unfortunate spatial puzzle of trying to fit all of her books in her normal bag without bending any of the pages or making the thing too heavy to lift. After a moment, though, Peri withdrew a thick, oversized navy coat, kindly offering it to her, and Aly gratefully accepted.

Normally, she might have been embarrassed at borrowing someone else's coat, and normally, she might have refused it entirely because the size or the colour or the material clashed with something or other she was wearing. (She had some standards.) But there was something rather unnatural about the chill in the air... something wickedly magical about it, and Aly had a tiptoeing feeling that this wasn't the kind of cold you could chase away with just a coat anyhow. Still, murmuring her thanks to Peri, she pulled the coat on over her turtleneck, the heavy hem of the dark material gathering some of the folds of her dress's A-line skirt closer to her legs. Yes, it was warm indeed. And oversized is so in right now anyway...

In a gentlemanly fashion, her companion siphoned dust from her chair - Yuck! Thank Merlin I didn't sit in that - and pulled it away from the table for her. The old-fashioned gesture reminded Aly that Peri was, too, a pureblood, and that he'd likely grown up in a similar sort of well-mannered, antiquated household as hers; after all, you didn't see old kindnesses like these much anymore. Then again, there were plenty of pureblood households' less kind traditions that you didn't see much of anymore, either, and Aly wasn't complaining about the lack of those. Rolling up the sleeves of the coat he'd lent her, because they were in fact a bit too long for her, she took a seat and, again, murmured, "Thank you, Peri." It felt as though she would be thanking him for a great many things, today. She'd come woefully underprepared.

Having just sat down in the chair, Aly nearly jumped entirely out of it - and of her skin itself - when, at the conclusion of the moody piece that had been softly spinning on the gramophone, a ghost floated down from - oh, Aly hadn't even noticed the dancing ghosts above them, which was sort of creepy, to be quite honest - and asked for another record. Peri, again, ever the gentleman, gave her the chance to choose, and Aly leaned down under the table to peek at the crate. Rifling through the dozens of discs, she read titles and names from places of which she'd never even heard, marvelling at exactly how big the world was. For a moment, there was the brief thought of trying something new, of exploring strange chords, but then she spotted it, tucked in the very far side of the crate: a Weird Sisters record. Her fingers had wrapped around it before her heart could beat again, and she emerged from under the table, narrowly avoiding bumping her head on the way back up.

"Call me basic if you'd like, but this was my father's favourite," she said defensively, not even realising her usage of past tense. She'd gotten better at that, recently. Fitting the record into its slot on the gramophone, Aly dragged the needle to its proper starting place, and the opening string notes of 'Magic Works' began to play, accompanied by the velvety-smooth vocals of Myron Wagtail. She winced, glancing upwards at the half-alive residents of the room to see their reaction to a song about dancing the last dance of one's life, but the ghosts seemed not to mind. At least it hadn't been 'Do the Hippogriff'. Still, to the mystical music in the background, Aly fixated her eyes across the table to her equally mystical companion, letting herself really take him in for the first time. He did look so... different, and Aly couldn't help wondering if perhaps she was the same way, and she just hadn't noticed it in the mirror. "But... anyway. It's been so long," she said, sort of lamely, keeping her voice quieter in case the mentions of life offended any passers-by. "What's - life - like in the world of Pericles Dralt?"

@Aly Salinger

Pericles was not at all accustomed to living company in this room, if the dusty chair was any indicator, but he had the standard procedures down. He fell effortlessly into hostly decorum. Manners came easily between them, it seemed, with his polite gesture met with equally proper gratitude, only to be bounced back with a nonchalant "No trouble." Unorthodox as the location may be- a frigid dungeon primarily populated by the deceased- etiquette was second nature to bluebloods. He had the good form to pretend he hadn't noticed the way Aly flinched at the arrival of a ghost. When she went on to defend her choice of vinyl, he held up his hands in deference, assuring "Not at all. They're popular for good reason." His half-smirk and sleepy eyes were as good as any mask. The past tense she'd used- that this was her father's favorite- hadn't eluded him. Initial sparks of concern kindled in his chest. Was the loss recent? Pericles realized there was tragically little he knew about Aly, though this chance encounter might be just the opportunity to rectify that.

Slow sage nods affirmed just how long it had been. The duo shared a moment of observation: both had grown a great deal since that first run-in at the Fall Ball years ago, Pericles' limbs longer and more gangly, Aly's hair more magnificently bushy than he recalled. There was also the fashionably haunted look in their eyes, a common trait to upperclassmen, and the mutual understanding that these rare moments of peace ought to be savored. The eagle tilted his head in a birdish way when asked about his life, taking a pause to ponder how precisely he ought to answer. Confessing his recent sleuth-work when it came to his bloodline seemed too heavy a topic for reacquaintancing, so after a thoughtful "Well..." he casually listed some simpler developments. "I've been deeply invested in potion work," omitting the fact that it had a great deal to do with taboo experimentation, "and studying Runes to get ready for our O.W.L.s. Da's been doing his best to get me in on the family shipping business." Peri's freckled nose crinkled for a split second at that, a subtle indication that he didn't care for the trade, but he brightened exponentially as he recalled "Oh, and I achieved Animagus status! I've just been registered as of last month. And you? How was your summer?"

Hex Colour:
#8C94E9

At least Peri seemed to not mind the Weird Sisters, or perhaps even like them, as he agreed that the oldies band's popularity had come about for a certain reason; Aly relaxed, a little less worried about judgement of her music taste now. Perhaps she had been holding a deep breath in her lungs, and she slowly exhaled it as the orchestral track swelled into the refrain: So believe that magic works, don't be afraid of bein' hurt...

As soon as her living, and yet terribly ghostlike, companion began to speak, however, the teenager's attention snapped back to him. Potions, runes... well, Aly didn't take Study of Ancient Runes, so she knew very little about that, and she had not been gifted with a deft hand at brewing like so many of her closest companions. It was clear that the two Ravenclaws, though Housemates, clearly varied in talent and passion - just as it should have been, honestly, as intelligence could never have been measured by perfection across the board. "I should've taken Runes," she sighed, "I feel like I'd have loved it. But I went for Divination and Muggle Studies instead, and I like those, too, so... can't take 'em all, I suppose. I wish I could take that instead of Potions!" A slight lilt to her voice and the quirk of a small smile on one corner of her lips may have alluded to her statement being a joke, but was it really or was she serious as, well, death?

Animagus status, though - now, that was exciting. Aly's mouth dropped open at Peri's oh-so-casual mention, and she leaned across the table, bracing herself on her forearms as she rose up slightly out of her seat. "Peri, you what?! Oh, my giddy aunt! That's - wow, that's fantastic! A million congratulations." Unfamiliar with Animagus etiquette, she plopped back into her seat, pondering - was it rude to ask him to show her? Aly had never seen an Animagus transform, and though she definitely considered it an awe-inspiring talent, the process also seemed so long and arduous that she didn't know if she would ever have the patience to try it out. Plus, what if she got a useless form, like a giant tiger or something else she'd never use? "Am - am I allowed to ask what you are?" she voiced, perhaps a bit nervously, a slight tremor in her tone. "Or is that, er, taboo?"

Feeling perhaps as if she was pestering her friend with too many questions, she cleared her throat and tried to relax. This wasn't an interview, after all - just a casual, peaceful moment with a friend, which were all too rare at Hogwarts these days. Aly's heart twinged painfully at the mention of Peri's father. Of course, he had no way of knowing that Aly's father had passed - really, only one of her fellow Hogwarts students knew, and that was of course Aly's best friend, since that wasn't exactly the type of news you trauma-dump onto just anyone - but the idea of father-son bonding over a shipping business still hurt, just a bit. "That's - sweet, of your dad," she mumbled, casting her gaze downwards towards the dusty floor (wow, it really was covered in a thick layer of lint). "I don't think my mum would ever let me near her work, nor even touch it with a bargepole. She's an Auror, you know, not that I plan on following that... having a shipping business sounds so much more interesting, in my opinion." Travelling the world, under the stars, with all the freedom that a single human could ever be allowed - what wasn't to like?

Did her jealousy flicker, just a bit, at the idea of Peri on a boat with a living father, bonding and laughing and being so joyously alive together? Yes, of course, but Aly tried to push it down. It wasn't his fault, after all, that she struggled with that so.