- Messages
- 451
- OOC First Name
- Linda
- Sexual Orientation
- from reality
- Wand
- Knotted 10 1/2 Inch Unyielding Cedar Wand with Phoenix Tail Feather Core
- Age
- 10/2031
Tagging: Alexander Sheffield
Wearing: OUTFIT
---------------------------
Minerva had first overheard about the Arts room when she had been studying in the library but she had supposed that an arts room had meant simply anything to do with drawing and painting. As much as she liked these pursuits, she didn't fancy at any time going to a room simply to doodle but when she had been told that it was a Conglomerated Arts Room which meant anything pertaining to the Arts, she knew she had to go and see the room for herself. It was hard to believe that it was already May, the school year had flown by so fast. At the beginning of the year she had desperately wanted the school year to finish but now she was increasingly finding that she didn't want it to end. Minerva had made friends and had studied hard, she had gotten good grades in her first term and hoped that she would do just as well this term too. She had attended a few quidditch games, learned to fly, saw muggle items that still continued to baffle her, received roses for valentines that she had now pressed between the pages of her favourite Sherlock Holmes books.
As she stood outside the door to the C.A.R she simply stared at the door, afraid to open it in case there were others inside, in case a certain someone was inside! Try as she might she had not been able to shake his voice from her head, nor the tune of his song from her heart. It was imprinted there and she despised herself whenever she caught herself humming it over and over as if she were on a time loop. She had made a friend she believed in Alistair, the strange blonde Slytherin who seemed to draw all sorts of strange company to him from mermaids to poltergeists and even herself but even his company she did not shun. She smiled at him now when she passed him in the Great Hall. She said hi to him as she entered or left classes that they shared and though she was not as close to him as she was to Norton or Elly, she did count him as a friend.
Alexander Sheffield was another matter entirely though, she wasn't sure why she had never given him another chance. She had sent him a rose for Valentines just as she had sent Elly and Norton one but they had received beautiful yellow ones and Alexander had been gifted a pink one. She hadn't necessarily meant she was crushing on him but she most definitely was crushing on his music and she knew there was something different about him that she couldn't explain and had tried to with a silly verse. How more pathetic could she have gotten? So since that day to this, she had veered away from any attempts at seeing him alone. If she caught his eye across the Great Hall at meal times, she would hastily look the other way, her heart slamming in her chest and his song replaying in her head.
Her fingers gripped the door knob and she turned it before stepping inside and closing it again behind her. It was empty! She had been certain that it would be full of students playing instruments or painting or dancing ... anything but this strange eerie silence that rented the air. A curtain billowed upwards from a gust of wind and Minerva hastily moved from the door to close the window. She pulled on the rope that levered the window down into place and then turned around to survey the room properly but she didn't get to look further than across the room before her. It was a piano, the darkest ebony she had ever seen with brass coaster wheels beneath. Slowly she made her way across entranced, her fingers fidgeting at her side already itching to play - it had been too long.
When she reached the grand piano she ran her hands over the smooth exterior, glancing inwards at the strings before walking to where the ebony and ivory keys seem to beckon her. Her fingers touched them gracefully but didn't dare to press even one. She had told herself she would never play again, not after hearing Alexander play but the piano was like a siren to her, she could not resist the comfort, the sense of peace that being near it gave her. Minerva sat on the stool and for a moment looked at the keys as if they were old friends and she was reacquainting herself with each and everyone and she knew before long she would like an old friend want to shake hands, embrace and so her fingers tentatively reached upwards and before she knew it, they were dancing lightly across the keys before her. At first a simple child's tune she had learned many years ago but what she had always used as her warm up piece, to stretch her fingers and relax into the music.
It was a fun piece, the Goblin dance by Alan Bullard but before she knew what she was doing, her fingers took on a life of their own as Alexander's music replayed in her head. She had always been proficient at playing by ear and now her fingers found the right keys, the right notes as she closed her eyes trying to recall the words he had song, she couldn't recall many of them but the beat was right, the beat was perfect but to her ears it was not the way he would have played it and it certainly was not as fueled with passion as his playing it had been and yet she could not stop her fingers from recounting each piece until her voice caught up with it and she sang the words she remembered.
"And there's a couple of things,
I'd really want to see,
Like a picture of you and me,
Waiting to see what tomorrow brings..."
Wearing: OUTFIT
---------------------------
Minerva had first overheard about the Arts room when she had been studying in the library but she had supposed that an arts room had meant simply anything to do with drawing and painting. As much as she liked these pursuits, she didn't fancy at any time going to a room simply to doodle but when she had been told that it was a Conglomerated Arts Room which meant anything pertaining to the Arts, she knew she had to go and see the room for herself. It was hard to believe that it was already May, the school year had flown by so fast. At the beginning of the year she had desperately wanted the school year to finish but now she was increasingly finding that she didn't want it to end. Minerva had made friends and had studied hard, she had gotten good grades in her first term and hoped that she would do just as well this term too. She had attended a few quidditch games, learned to fly, saw muggle items that still continued to baffle her, received roses for valentines that she had now pressed between the pages of her favourite Sherlock Holmes books.
As she stood outside the door to the C.A.R she simply stared at the door, afraid to open it in case there were others inside, in case a certain someone was inside! Try as she might she had not been able to shake his voice from her head, nor the tune of his song from her heart. It was imprinted there and she despised herself whenever she caught herself humming it over and over as if she were on a time loop. She had made a friend she believed in Alistair, the strange blonde Slytherin who seemed to draw all sorts of strange company to him from mermaids to poltergeists and even herself but even his company she did not shun. She smiled at him now when she passed him in the Great Hall. She said hi to him as she entered or left classes that they shared and though she was not as close to him as she was to Norton or Elly, she did count him as a friend.
Alexander Sheffield was another matter entirely though, she wasn't sure why she had never given him another chance. She had sent him a rose for Valentines just as she had sent Elly and Norton one but they had received beautiful yellow ones and Alexander had been gifted a pink one. She hadn't necessarily meant she was crushing on him but she most definitely was crushing on his music and she knew there was something different about him that she couldn't explain and had tried to with a silly verse. How more pathetic could she have gotten? So since that day to this, she had veered away from any attempts at seeing him alone. If she caught his eye across the Great Hall at meal times, she would hastily look the other way, her heart slamming in her chest and his song replaying in her head.
Her fingers gripped the door knob and she turned it before stepping inside and closing it again behind her. It was empty! She had been certain that it would be full of students playing instruments or painting or dancing ... anything but this strange eerie silence that rented the air. A curtain billowed upwards from a gust of wind and Minerva hastily moved from the door to close the window. She pulled on the rope that levered the window down into place and then turned around to survey the room properly but she didn't get to look further than across the room before her. It was a piano, the darkest ebony she had ever seen with brass coaster wheels beneath. Slowly she made her way across entranced, her fingers fidgeting at her side already itching to play - it had been too long.
When she reached the grand piano she ran her hands over the smooth exterior, glancing inwards at the strings before walking to where the ebony and ivory keys seem to beckon her. Her fingers touched them gracefully but didn't dare to press even one. She had told herself she would never play again, not after hearing Alexander play but the piano was like a siren to her, she could not resist the comfort, the sense of peace that being near it gave her. Minerva sat on the stool and for a moment looked at the keys as if they were old friends and she was reacquainting herself with each and everyone and she knew before long she would like an old friend want to shake hands, embrace and so her fingers tentatively reached upwards and before she knew it, they were dancing lightly across the keys before her. At first a simple child's tune she had learned many years ago but what she had always used as her warm up piece, to stretch her fingers and relax into the music.
It was a fun piece, the Goblin dance by Alan Bullard but before she knew what she was doing, her fingers took on a life of their own as Alexander's music replayed in her head. She had always been proficient at playing by ear and now her fingers found the right keys, the right notes as she closed her eyes trying to recall the words he had song, she couldn't recall many of them but the beat was right, the beat was perfect but to her ears it was not the way he would have played it and it certainly was not as fueled with passion as his playing it had been and yet she could not stop her fingers from recounting each piece until her voice caught up with it and she sang the words she remembered.
"And there's a couple of things,
I'd really want to see,
Like a picture of you and me,
Waiting to see what tomorrow brings..."