The Music Man Closed

Cecily was in shock. Not for a particularly interesting reason, and not even because of something that the average Joe might find somewhat of an accomplishment. No, Cecily was stunned because, for the first time in the past two years, the perpetually belated Ravenclaw wasn't running late. If only her friends were here; they would be so proud. They also might have, however, noticed that, while it was a miracle, there was a distinct pattern to her tardiness: it seemed that such radical things such as punctuality occured when the young girl was on her way to something she was particularly enthusiastic about. She was never once late to a Quidditch match-- that said something for sure. But for some odd reason, books just had more of an allure when she was behind schedule for a social event. That was, of course, unless a large portion of it involved music.

Walking back from classes one afternoon, she had noticed something moving on the wall, casting eerie shadows along the corridor. Upon closer inspection, it had been a small slip of paper tacked to the space in between the stone, upon which a name she recognised as belonging to a young housemate advertised free lessons on his guitars. Immediately, Cecily's interest was piqued. Music was an integral part of her life and her family: she herself played two instruments and loved to sing, so a jam sesh-- well, that was a clear shot right up the center of her alley. And Cecily's father, while not a musician in the strictest sense, was a music aficionado. He had been introducing Cecily to all kinds of music for years, ever since she was young, and it formed a tight bond in the two's relationship. The Ravenclaw couldn't even wrap her head around the idea that some people didn't listen to music, or only listened to one kind. There was so much music in the world, and it was all so different. From rap to musicals to classical, why not enjoy all there was to offer?

And so she had written to the boy (although she recognised the name, she was ashamed to say that she didn't quite know precisely which face went along with it, and she was not in the business of asking people such questions-- or any questions, really) and arranged to meet in the abandoned classroom on the second floor on this day-- the 27th of September-- at 4:00 p.m., a time when neither of the two were stuck in a musty classroom. The day had come up much quicker than Cecily had expected, but now it was here, and so was she.

The blonde rounded a corner, and although she had not thought that this would be such a deal, the mere sight of the classroom door stopped her in her tracks. Nerves suddenly took over her body as all enthusiasm flooded out of her stature. Worrisome ideas began to weave themselves into her thoughts. What if she was actually awful at playing string instruments? Sure, she was a musician, but she didn't really know how guitars worked-- she was pretty sure they didn't work by reading notes, like on a clarinet. Chords, she thought, were the notations, as she wracked her brain for something. And you strummed it, she knew. And...and...and that was all. That was the extent of what she knew about these instruments. She was about to look like a complete unmusical dunce in front of another Ravenclaw, and looking like an incompetent was basically the height of her social fears. This was going to be one hell of a fun time, for sure.

Taking a calming breath and shaking her head, Cecily crossed the last few meters to the empty room, her trainers silent in the desolate corridor. Upon reaching it, she turned the handle, and paused, collecting her thoughts as he pressed her palm into the cold metal. She edged the door open and peeked inside. A few desks, some chairs, and no boy. She was the first one here. The girl let out a sigh of relief. It had been made clear multiple times throughout the last two years that she had a perpetual habit of running late to all appointments, and she really didn't want to make the other boy wait for her.

She pulled a seat away from the tables and sat down to wait, brushing the blonde hair out of her face. It was all going to be fineeeeee. Most things usually figure themselves out, right? Although maybe she wasn't one to talk-- she did leave both of the Blossom Balls early.