| Details for Melodies in the Fog |
| Summary: | Myrus tries to find the source of music that drifts through the late day fog. |
| Date: | 16 September, 1939 |
| Location: | The Gardens, Hogwarts |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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The evenings are cooling off early, bringing a bit of fog that creeps along the grounds of Hogwarts, slowly blanketing the grass and swirling around ankles as students go about their business. Shortly after dinner sees many still out and about on the grounds, despite the off and on drizzle that mists through the air. Also floating through the air are notes from a flute, the sound familiar to most and typically not really noticed after the first week or two of school.
Sitting under her favorite tree in the garden, leaned back against it with her legs stretched out, Melody Abernathy plays a slow song. It's not really mournful, but it's thoughtful and quiet, a perfect accompaniment to the mist that eddys around her. She's got her uniform on, but for one exception. Her favorite wellies cover her feet. While usually black, she's charmed them into a riot of coloured swirls, Hufflepuff yellow predominant.
Myrus had heard the music before. Today it was more grating than usual, mainly because of the fog that shrouded it's creator from any kind of sight past several yards out. He couldn't -stop- hearing it today. And off hunting he went to go seek out the earshot interloper and put a stop to this at least for today.
So from the entry courtyard he steps smartly towards the gardens, intent clear, but the path ahead not quite so much.
The fog also conspires to diffuse the music, one moment making it seem like it's coming from every direction, the next seeming to give it a clear pathway to the source. It's almost as if it's taunting one trying to find it's origin, but Nature is a fickle thing.
Melody's tree is toward the far edge of the garden, where she can sit and see the forest without being near enough to get herself in trouble. She's often wondered if her songs carry into the darkness, and if they're loved or hated. Being an optimistic girl, she prefers to think that they're welcome in the dark, soothing the savage beast, as it were. She doesn't stop to consider much if they're loved or hated among her peers. The slight blond plays on, the tempo subtly changing, the notes a bit brighter in the hour before twilight.
THe dark headed and minded boy makes his way to the middle (or what he can only assume at this point) of the gardens, only to hear the music start to pick up a lighter melody, as if following the weather patterns for it's mood. He stops walking about and listens now more carefully to wait a few moments to see if this is absolutely true, before calling out into the mists around him, "Is it nature herself that plays this tune? My own ears that trick my mind into thinking I hear something? Or can I blame an actual person for this melody?"
Even with the fog, the boy's clear voice travels, and although she doesn't stop playing the words tickle Melody's ears. They make her smile, and very nearly miss a note, because the Ravenclaw has his answer right there in his very own question. She doesn't call back an answer, but instead changes her tune for a moment, bringing up a spry and very short chorus from Pop Goes The Weasel. Then it's right back into the song she had been playing.
Myrus can't help but reach up and rub his face to hide the fact that little jaunt from Pop Goes The Weasel made him grin. Now he's under the assumption that there is someone out there, playing the flute, and they continue to do so.
"Well, could you stop? Some of us aren't up for all that excited, happy-go-lucky.." he loses his thought for just a moment, "..stuff!" He raises his voice ever so slightly with the last word.
In response to the request, the music does stop, and stillness seems to fall even heavier in it's absence. Melody tilts her head, the flute still poised at her lips, her eyes looking into the distance as she considers the request. There is a long moment of silence, before notes come again. The tune is more subdued when Melody picks back up playing, this time there is a decidedly mournful drift as she pulls up a song from memory, a traditional Scottish song that tells the story of a doomed love. Perhaps something more somber will be more accepted on this moist evening.
Myrus hones in on where the song is coming from when she stops playing. It's a moment of silence as he stops moving. The voices and sounds from the castle proper can be heard further away, but as of this moment, he's still as a large cat that thinks it's been spotted.
Then the sad song begins. Myrus gets closer to a tree, and hearing that it's very close, he really doesn't know what direction it's coming from now, so he sits down quietly against the tree trunk. "You know.." he starts, "some people might not like that song either, for reasons similiar to the previous melody." Interestingly, he wonders if whoever it is that's playing the flute can or cannot tell where from his voice floats, as he cannot tell right now where the flute player is. Only for how close he is to it, it seems everywhere around him now. Maybe because she's on the other side of the same tree he leans up against currently.
Melody can tell from the volume that Myrus has drawn more near, but she doesn't spare much thought to try and pinpoint his exact location. Again, he uses her name without knowing it, and the girl stops her song for another few moments. Not something bright. Not something sad. Perhaps something in the middle. The silence is shorter this time before the notes from the flute touch the air again, somehow managing to be neither happy nor sad, but somewhere in the middle. A refrain is played, ending on an up note, as if questioning if this is more suitable. Melody holds the flute poised, looking out into the fog without expecting to see anything, waiting to see if another comment comes. She's fairly certain the knows the voice, a yearmate, not a housemate, that she's shared many classes with, yet has never really moved in the same circles with.
He eyenarrows for just a moment, hearing the upnote, but not really taking it as a question. Even though he's thinking about how he feels on this particular bit of music, Myrus leans his head against the tree trunk gently, and looks up into the branches that he can see. "Sounds about right. Not one way or the other. Stuck in the middle, where noone can be satisfied.." right where I am in the stupid Purity Wars.
Stuck in the middle. Being a middle child, Melody knows much about that, but in a very different way. Her stuck in the middle has always been rather comforting, knowing that no matter where she turns, there will be someone or something there to support her. But she can tell from the tone and the words themselves that her listener is in a different middle. People think she doesn't pay attention, but she's a perceptive girl. She knows Myrus is a Pure-blood, and that he's been receiving some taunts for not falling into step with others. It's amazing what you see when you just step back and look. With his approval, she starts playing again, the notes drifting around the tree, circling them both and, for a few moments at least, shutting out the rest of the school.
Myrus for now is able to accept the song. Maybe something that helps define the situation he is in. It at least gives him something to listen to and help him reflect on all that's going on.
Purists dislike me for what I support. Muggleborns are starting to dislike me for protecting myself now, and anyone else is just in the way or something to use if I can. At least I can trust myself.
His head comes off the tree and he's now looking at the grass between his feet at the ends of bent legs with elbows propped onto his knees.
Melody is content to let the song flow, playing for an audience for a change instead of herself. Even if it is an audience of one fairly grumpy schoolmate. As he remains quiet it doesn't occur to her that he's walked away. There's just a feeling of not being entirely alone out in the mist. She plays the song through to the end, a good several minutes, then finally puts her flute down, laying it across her lap. She stares down at the toes of her wellies, rocking her feet slightly. She's waiting, to see if Myrus has anything more to say. Maybe a request? But probably not anything more than his request that the music stop, and that makes her smile curve.
He listens to the song until the end. And it seems to validate something in his mind instead of alleviate it. And when he realizes that staring down at the ground between his feet, a wide, twisted grin has spread across his face. He awakens from the morbid imaginative daydream he's gone into and blinks a few times.
He rubs his face and says, "That was alright I guess," quickly standing up not worrying about what sound he's making and giving up his location to her, as he knows there's somewhere he wants to go. Or at least, something he wants to study with a certain vigor that his mind cannot place. Or just doesn't want to due to denial.
Melody only realizes that Myrus had been right on the other side of the same tree when he makes noises standing up, and his voice comes from above her. Despite the song only being 'alright I guess', she finally speaks as well. "Ta." Enough to identify her as female, but likely not who she is, and perhaps enough to pinpoint it's source just around the tree.