Their Song Finished

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speech • #427c9a thoughts • italics others • #ffffff

november 14th, 2023 • date rehearsal room • location their song • thread

Today was nothing special, at least, not for Ophelia. Today was a quieter Tuesday, one of the few days in which homework didn't plague her and prior commitments didn't haunt her. In fact, today was a peaceful day on which she'd decided that she'd explore the castle. She hadn't gotten to do so since coming to the school, at least, not well. So far, she'd stuck to a routine path across the palace. Occasionally, she had gone to other places, or had chased after her darling pet cat, Dove, as she'd run out of the Ravenclaw common rooms, but other than those anomalies, she'd done at Hogwarts exactly what one was supposed to do at Hogwarts. Study. Talk. Read.

As Ophelia walked around the floors that she'd previously practically never stepped foot on, she regretted her decision to shelter herself. The castle of a school was grand and pretty, and every forgotten corner was made to be seen and presented. Sometimes, she wondered how the school had become a school in the first place. If it had first been built for a majestic royal family.

Today's wandering led Ophelia to the fourth floor. Not much useful rooms were on this floor, but she kept going anyway. Ready to explore. She'd heard of the Duelling Club room before, and of the lavatories and the Rehearsal Room. But the ballroom was new, and she couldn't help taking a peek inside.

Then, Ophelia kept walking, until she was slowed by the sound of music. The Rehearsal Room! Someone must be practicing. The girl quickened her pace, her brain already trying to place what she was hearing. It's familiar, but I don't know from where.

As Ophelia entered the room, she saw a boy, around her age, playing the piano and singing the song. She hummed along with his music, her brain still on overdrive. She closed her eyes, searching her memories for the song. Usually, she remembered the lyrics to things easily, but this song must have been something she'd only ever heard once, for she pulled up blank yet again.

Suddenly, the music stopped and Ophelia abruptly opened her eyes. The portraits on the walls were clapping, and she decided to join in. Even though she hadn't recognized the song, she still appreciated the boy's talent.

Most of her wanted to turn around and flee the scene before the boy in front of her turned around, figuring out that she'd listened to him. But a small part of her knew that she wouldn't sleep tonight, instead thinking the song over and over again, trying to figure it out.

If only an electronic device worked here, I could just search up some of the lyrics that I heard the boy sing. Ophelia sighed inwardly. This definitely wasn't the first time she'd thought something like that. How she missed Muggle technology. It had really made living so much easier.

I guess I must speak with him then. Sighing once more, Ophelia cleared her throat, hoping he would turn around and not feel violated and angry. "Uh, hello there. My name is Ophelia, and hopefully, I'm not interrupting anything. I...eh, happened to be walking the halls when you were playing and heard your music. You are really talented, but I couldn't place the song."

Hopefully, that was enough for him to understand what she wanted to know.

interactions • @Matthew Campbell mentions • @ stats • sta 6 | eva 5 | str 6 | wis 7 | arc 6 | acc 5

524 • word count xxx • outfit perfectionist • abilities

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While Archer Duncan did not play music, he enjoyed going astray within it, enjoyed the simple pleasure of being afloat on cloud nine, enjoyed watching Maman's elegant fingers prance along the piano keys, enjoyed observing the delicate needle hover and drop within a phonograph. Hover and drop. Hover and drop. Yet he had never had fingers quite long enough for the piano, quite flexible enough for the violin, quite strong enough for the drums. It was a pity he could never be included in the circle of talented musicians Hogwart's accomodated.

His fascination for the Rehearsal Room had began on a sleepless September night and a girl with feline eyes, who was most certainly, despite first thought, not a ghost nor an apparition. And what was that beautiful song again? "Dance the night away, when nobody's awake and be the last to stay." The poetic lyrics had never left his mind since that chance encounter. And the girl had not. And the dance had not either. Still, he remembered the room, remembered the petite silver birds, silently chirping on their perch atop the chandelier, the raging fireplace, constantly smelling of home, the grand windows, always allowing in light, even in the deepest of midnights.

Yet after that night, Archer had never set foot in it again.

Till music beckoned him, once more.

His voice was so young, his voice a beautiful soprano meant for the most extravagant of operas, decorated with lords in their double-breasted tuxedos, their lapels adorned with proud pins and ladies in their best cocktail dresses, their hair braided elaborately. Yet it was compacted into itself with far too much emotion. Archer could almost hear the tears that was sure to be welling in his eyes, not simply appreciation for the music, but a melancholy seemingly induced by uncalled for solitude. Archer could, painfully, relate.

He had not closed the door, but by no means did Archer intend to step inside and disturb such an alluring song, despite the temptation to ask for the title and composer. Archer closed his eyes, leaning on the wall and practically melting into its shadow, like he often does when nobody notices his presence.

Archer's quiet appreciation was shattered when a pair of footsteps approached. His eyes fluttered open to observe a girl, perhaps around his age, her eyes a soul-penetrating eyes blue, her hair a lustrous brown, beautifully playing the antithesis to her ivory skin. As she entered the Rehearsal Room, a timid humming washed into Archer's mind, falling in rhythm with the song as he closed his eyes again. A scattering of applause filled his mind as the music came to an abrupt stop and conversation began. 'Uh, hello there. My name is Ophelia, and hopefully, I'm not interrupting anything. I...eh, happened to be walking the halls when you were playing and heard your music. You are really talented, but I couldn't place the song,' the girl who must have just passed began.

Before Archer could process this information, a reverberant crash echoed through his mind, shattering his focus. He blinked open his eyes and could not help stepping forward a little and leaning into the room to witness the commotion. Wincing in sympathy at the sight of a curly-haired boy sprawled on the floor, cutting through the tension with a awkward laugh that made Archer cringe. Quickly apologising, he said, 'I wasn't aware you had come in. Think I was a bit lost in the music.' Archer nodded at those words, for he would have been in the same predicament, or perhaps, more accurately: blessing. A sense a familiarity suddenly struck Archer as he realised the boy to be a face he had seen, and probably even interacted with. However, from the distance, it was comparably more difficult to make out the memory.

'Ophelia was it? I'm Matthew, but you can call me Clumsy I guess,' the boy introduced, causing Archer to quietly curse himself and slink back into the shadows, desperately hoping he had not been recognised back. Archer Theodore Duncan and Matthew Campbell were certainly not on the best of terms. Grimacing, Archer wanted to sneak back away, but something about the music had intrigued him, and somehow, he could not force himself to take even one step out of the Rehearsal Room. Move, he told himself. There was no reason to get involved in any trouble.

Move.

Archer was caught off guard once more when a girl with fiery red hair and emerald green eyes, wearing a pink dress that seemed awfully meagre for the weather, approached the room. She smiled at Matthew, a smile that made Archer want to slip away even more, knowing she was in good acquaintance with someone who clearly disliked him.

Move.

Why bother with this?

Someone must have bothered, because he felt a pair of eyes, at least, on his turning back.

@Matthew Campbell @Ophelia Northwell @Rowan Bellegno

Note: leaving unless noticed/stopped; however, OOCly, I am hoping he gets stopped

To Matthew: I am kind of guessing how Friend or Foe may end based on how I think Matthew might respond to what I think Archer would say. In short, they won't be enemies, but would certainly be negative acquaintances. If you would like me to edit this please just shoot me an owl/dm me.

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speech • #427c9a thoughts • italics others • #ffffff

november 14th, 2023 • date rehearsal room • location their song • thread

Ophelia nodded with understanding as the boy in front of her, Matthew, as he'd introduced himself, told her which song he'd been playing. A song by Elton John. She'd never listened much to his music, but she did remember her brother having a piano recital with the same tune that had just been played by the boy. That's probably why I recognised the music, but didn't recall the lyrics.

The Ravenclaw smiled self-consciously as Matthew asked about her own musical talents. She didn't know how interested he was, therefore choosing to go with a simple answer instead of a lengthy one. "I have a passion for singing, though I do not play any instrument." Then, as he had deflected her previous compliment, she added another one. "But it seems as though you have both talents."

Not knowing what else to say, Ophelia paused. In that moment, a redhead walked into the scene. She had a confidence about her that was completely opposed the Ravenclaw's personality. To her, it seemed as if the girl was assessing her, even though she hadn't even heard Ophelia speak. Or had she? How long as she been here in this room? She tried to dispel these thoughts before she started disliking the redhead girl before even meeting her, but they seemed to be stuck in her mind.

As the girl began speaking in a fashion that clearly suggested that she knew Matthew well, Ophelia began looking around the room. It was her first time in the room and she had come to explore, after all, not make friends. Or enemies, her brain supplied helpfully.

Finally, Ophelia's eyes came to rest on something moving that wasn't the portraits in the room. Moving? Is that a person? Paying more attention, she realised that she was right. A person was moving to get out of the room, though she didn't know for what reason.

She didn't know what possessed her in the moment, but she called out to the boy running out of the room. While Ophelia didn't recognise him, she didn't want him to think that she and the others were unwelcoming. Especially since they were clearly allowing others to join their conversation, as the redhead had done.

"Hey there! Where are you going?"

interactions • @Matthew Campbell @Archer Duncan mentions • @Rowan Bellegno stats • sta 6 | eva 5 | str 6 | wis 7 | arc 6 | acc 5

349 • word count xxx • outfit perfectionist • abilities

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speech • #427c9a thoughts • italics others • #ffffff

november 14th, 2023 • date rehearsal room • location their song • thread

Ophelia felt herself go into panic mode as Matthew suggested that she sing with him one day. She loved to sing, and she'd been told by many who'd accidentally heard her that she had an angelic voice, but it was almost impossible for her to sing in front of an audience. She could speak to people, but singing had always felt like giving away a part of herself, and she couldn't do that easily. Still, Ophelia kept a smile on her face and nodded enthusiastically, so as not to seem rude.

As Matthew began singing and playing a new song, one that Ophelia recognised well this time, she absentmindedly started humming along with him. It wasn't supposed to be loud enough for anyone to hear, but as she fell into the music, she forgot about the people around her. Instead of just humming, the words came out of her lips, soft but audible for anyone listening.

Ophelia's attention was still elsewhere, not actually on Matthew, Rowan, or the music being played, and when it stopped, she snapped to attention. Matthew was now looking at the boy that she had yelled at with an emotion similar to disappointment and worry. She looked between both the boys, wondering what history they must have for them to look at each other that way.

interactions • @Matthew Campbell mentions • @Rowan Bellegno @Archer Duncan stats • sta 6 | eva 5 | str 6 | wis 7 | arc 6 | acc 5

220 • word count xxx • outfit perfectionist • abilities

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Archer couldn't fathom what was so morally wrong about leaving a room. It wasn't as if he was a particularly interesting character who should have remained there to be studied. It wouldn't be particularly interesting for any party if he dawdled around, awkwardly inserting himself into the midst of conversation with one of his more negative acquaintances.

Curse human curiosity. Curse his own. If only he had moved on from the room once the music had stopped. If only he had never halted his daily affairs to listen at all. The day ahead of him would stretch on perfectly fine without this interpersonal distraction.

Of course, now there was nothing he could do but publicly make his presence known, despite the uncomfortable circumstances.

The heels of his loafers clicked far too loudly on the marble floor, the silence surrounding him almost deafening. This was not that whimsical September night. It was void of a cat-eyed girl, dancing all her troubles away past midnight. It was void of their hand-hand, void of her graceful steps, leading Archer further from reality, from everything he had based himself upon, and from his own homesickness, step by step, move by move. This time, it was three pairs of eyes, judging his every action. This time, it was Matthew Campbell, a lad whose personality alone met have let to befriending, but then again… fate always has her own ideas in store, as she always does. Archer confidence, if had ever had confidence for social interactions, faltered and dropped. Anything Matthew said, the Gryffindor would back. The dynamic of friendship was obvious to the idlest observer. He paused, then walked again. Paused, then walked, his legs tentative to take him any further.

Archer halted at close to five feet away from the trio, his eyes flitted between them, analysing their postures and expressions, his hazel eyes much darker than usual, as if the chocolate brown had eaten away at the olive green. They darted across the room, hoping for some sort of distraction. Returning empty-handed, they finally connected with the ones of the two ladies. Archer straightened, hoping to try for some sort of confidence, or at the very least, politeness. The Gryffindor’s fiery red hair was bothersome in its brightness, and Archer slightly gritted his teeth as he stood still, eyes fixated on the both of them. ‘Archer Theodore Duncan, he introduced finally, his voice quieter than usual. He extended a hand to the brunette girl first, and, was she to accept and shake it, would then move on two the red-head and repeat the action. ‘Pleased to make both of your acquaintances,’ he said, pleasantly enough.

Of course, he knew the next interaction might not be as pleasant as the previous. Archer turned to Matthew and hesitated. An awkward silence hung over the air for several seconds, before Archer managed to break it with a meagre nod of recognition, saying, ‘Mister Matthew Campbell,’ his tone carrying a subtle tension. Archer gulped uncomfortably, then breathed in through his nose to calm himself. Delicately steering the conversation towards Matthew and away from any possible relation to the day in Defence Against the Dark Arts class, he complimented, ‘You are a stunning vocalist and pianist.’ He paused, his fingers nervously running down the back of the piano, trying to imagine how Maman would have played the keys. ‘Forgive me for the-’ he wavered, his hands pausing on the mahogany, in rhythm with his speech. Perhaps he had wanted to apologise for the events of their first acquaintance, but there was no sensible reason to bring up drama in front of two strangers. ‘-interruptance,’ he chose finally, ‘but I could not help but be captivated by your music.’