Closed The Cellist

Isleen, after hours of studying her potions textbook and countless essay drafts, sighed in exhaustion. It was far past curfew, but she was determined to finish her essay before falling asleep.
She tapped her nose with her forefinger, a habit she had when thinking deeply about something. Yet she was still unable to focus on the various textbooks strewn across the table.
Sighing quietly once more, Isleen stood up from the table.
Her mother had taught her never to pace, so she instead exited the Slytherin common room. She wandered the moonlight hallways, admiring the sleeping paintings as she stepped quietly around them.
She hadn't the foggiest idea of where she was going, yet she kept going onwards, turning corners and trotting up staircases, careful to not wake up any paintings.
She paused when she saw a room she didn't recognize.
High caved ceilings framed the vaulted windows, turning the chandelier-lit room into a dome.
She looked around at the various instruments dispersed around the room.
Brass instruments, violins, flutes, harps, guitars, and even a grand piano lay in the mirror-lined room.
Isleen took a great time scanning the instruments, admiring each's beauty.
Until her eyes landed on the cello.
She had learned, along with piano and harp, the cello from a young age from her music teacher, Herr Heizenhalt.
She scooped up the valuable instrument, plucking the strings softly and tuning it out of habit. Bits of dust flew off the strings as she plucked them.
She found the bow resting near the cello, and pulled it across the strings, practicing a simple scale.
That simple scale turned into a complex scale, and the complex scale turned into a complex song.
As the music flowed, Isleen's thoughts calmed, her mind giving in to the melody.