Slipping into the room quietly, Zander looked around briefly before approaching the beautifully polished Grand Piano situated in an out of the way location. Trailing his fingers over the ebony and ivory keys, the Slytherin slowly walked around the piano, taking in every detail of its rich highly-polished wood. Stopping at the side, he gently opened the lid, propping it open and looking down inside at the taut metal strings, and the padded hammers of the beautiful instrument. Reassured everything was in working order, he walked once more to the front and sat down gently in the bench, resting his fingers upon the keys.

His long fingers began playing a simple melody, re-accustoming his long fingers to the motions, it had been several months before the teen had found the time to play. Holding the last note for a moment longer than was necessary, he smoothly transitioned into the familiar chords of Für Elise. Closing his eyes, he relaxed easily as his skilled fingers flew over the keys, passing through the bridges and notes with the ease and skill of a master pianist. He had studied music for years, but his skill was nearly unmatched with the piano, the violin running a close second. Following Beethoven’s masterpiece, came Bach’s Minuet.

He was in mid song, when he heard a sound behind him, his hands stilling immediately as his eyes opened and he stared ahead stonily. He couldn’t even get any peace in the seldom used Dance Hall. Licking his lips, the Lestrange Heir turned his head slightly to show a partial profile before speaking quietly, his voice carrying easily via the acoustics of the room. “It is uncouth to stare, you know,” he said coolly.

It was a bit late to be wandering, but then this was usually the case for Nocturnius. This had become so common, in fact, that the teachers hardly batted an eye at her apparently restless meandering. They had, however, had quite an issue with this meandering occurring outside beyond curfew, as she had found out only moments ago when she was hastily booted back indoors by the gamekeeper.

I don’t understand what all the fuss is about, she thought, tucking her hands in the pockets of her coat. Winter had not stayed outside, after all: the stone corridors of the castle were every bit as chilly as the open grounds, with an equally nasty, icy bite.

Nocturnius glanced in one of the glass cases as she passed down the corridor. Her nose and cheeks were blushed from the cold, something that had also left her lips a dark, wind-blown pink. She dropped the fur-lined hood of her coat away from her face before stuffing her hands back in her pockets again, drifting on down the hall aimlessly.

It was then she heard something, faint and fluttering, but plenty to catch her attention. Her feet crept along, passing each door in the massive corridor until finally, she stopped at the Dance Hall stage door. As she stood there, her leaning closer to the door, the resonance became comprehensible, and finally recognizable. It was music, a song from the hall’s grand piano.

Nocturnius’s fingers reached for the heavy brass handle, curling tightly around it and drawing the door open. The melody floated through the crack, bringing her to crane her head in to listen. Beethoven. Played beautifully, in fact. …but who was playing?

The possibilities flurried through her mind as she inched inside and drew the door shut behind her.Probably Caspian, or that Hufflepuff girl... As she neared, the music stopped, and for a moment so did her feet. The silence was brief, however, as the pianist’s fingers flowed masterfully into Bach’s Minuet. One of her favorites.

Drawing near to the wing curtain, she managed a small peek at the master. Of course, it was merely a backside, and an unfamiliar one at that, but it was enough to make her feet stay firmly put. She dared to set her head quietly against the heavy black curtain, the delicate fingers of her left hand settling along its folds as well.

The music abruptly stopped, and was followed by a strong voice that reverberated deeply throughout the hall. She drew a sharp, short breath in through her nose, startled by the suddenness.

“I’m sorry,” Nocturnius replied politely. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Just wanted to see who was playing is all…”

Snorting slightly, he turned even more to be able to lock his grey eyes upon the intruder, hands slipping from the keys soundlessly. Bracing one hand on his thigh, Alexander studied her face for a couple seconds, trying to recall her name. It wouldn't come to him, but he did recall seeing her before. A Ravenclaw if he recalled correctly. His fingers twitched as he thought of the black and white keys waiting for him to play once more, but he didn't believe he would be able to now that his privacy had been invaded.

"It's just me," he said simply, turning to face the keys once more, but not moving his hands from his legs. The young Dark Wizard, calmly set his shoulders as he stared down at the keys. It was ironic to the teen, that someone so inherently dark could create something so beautiful, but it happened. Sighing, he lifted his long-fingered hands once more, and casually played Bach's Prelude.

"I would like to apologize," he said calmly, playing always soothed the Slytherin into a more agreeable mood, "But I cannot seem to recall your name." His brow furrowed as he moved the piece through a particularly difficult arrangement before slipping into Aria. He was a fan of Bach, and the difficulty of the pieces the man had composed, but this was one of the simpler pieces, allowing the Slytherin to turn his head and pin her with another look, one eyebrow raised slightly.

He was quite out of character, the playing relaxing him far more than normal, channeling his emotions more usefully into the music as he played. Licking his lips, his eyes flashed back up to her. "Do you play," he asked quietly, their location, and the nature of the piece making him quieter.

Nocturnius could sense she had bothered the man, and for a moment prepared to cut a hasty exit. She took a calming breath as he spoke, however, and her shoulders relaxed as he started playing once again.

“Nocturne. Nocturnius,” she corrected, realizing the irony of her nickname in this situation, “but… most people don’t call me that, really.” She loosely interlocked her fingers, keeping them relaxed and suspended at her waist by her bent elbows. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with your name, either.” Certainly she had noticed him before; looking him over now, it would have been difficult not to. He was tall, and had a distinct, masculine face; still, there was not a name that she could match to it.

She took a few feathery paces toward him, her boots making hardly a sound as she was careful to step lightly.

“I play a little,” she replied, “though not nearly to your scale. I know a few pieces.” Nocturnius had moved closer to his side now, though lingered nearer to the great instrument than to him. Standing there, she couldn’t help the soft smile that came across her lips, illuminating her pink, winter-brushed cheeks. “Aria, isn’t it? Bach was always one of my favorites.”

[Moved on the request of both RPers so that they could finish the topic.]

“I’m Alexander,” he said, “It’s a pleasure, Nocturnius.” He would be polite, for just a few moments at the least, he could do that much.

Looking down at his hands dancing lightly upon the keys, the Slytherin remained quiet for a few minutes as the notes danced around and through the air surrounding the pair. The corner of his lips twitched in a ghost of a smile, before coming back firmly into his conscious control. It wouldn’t do to openly show his thoughts upon his features, after all, he had to keep a certain air of mystery about himself. Something to keep people guessing. Not that they were all too curious about him anyway.

The young Lestrange bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement of her comment. “It is Aria,” he said quietly, “The first song I actually played on the piano. Bach has a certain talent for melody.”

Glancing up at her briefly, he tilted his head ever-so-slightly, “Couldn’t sleep, Nocturnius,” he asked softly, fingers subconsciously adding notes to the music he was creating, twisting it in such a fashion to make it become dark and haunting rather than the light and airy piece it was originally.

Any other time, the young man would have made the Ravenclaw uncomfortable. His demeanor was quiet, but not in quite the same way as most people; there was a coldness about him, only enhanced by the solitude of the dance hall. And yet, something soothed that usual paranoia she would have felt in this situation.

And as he answered, his reply seemed to click. The name was familiar, though she wasn't sure from where, and she couldn't bring herself to ask for his last name. For a moment, she thought she had seen a smile come across his lips, but it faded as quickly as she had glimpsed it.

Her eyes watched as his fingers moved over the keys, and she tilted her head at the sudden change of tone.

"Seems you have a talent for it, too," she said quietly. Haunting as the piece had become, there was something elegant about it that fascinated her. Her eyes met his for a brief moment before she lifted her head again. "You could say that..." She let her gaze fall back on him. "...and you?"

Lips twitching slightly in what may have become a slight smile if he had allowed it, Zander mused on his odd demeanor. He had seen the brief flash of recognition in her eyes, and assumed she must know who he was. So his odd behavior must be mildly unsettling to the outsider. How unfortunate for them.

“That or I’m just well practiced,” he added to her statement, allowing his eyes to close as he played, “But a little of both would probably be the most accurate. It’s a relaxing talent.”

Lifting his stormy grey eyes to hers, he boldly stared her down until she moved her focus from the Slytherin. Dropping his eyes back to his hands, he silently compared her demeanor to that of other people who he’s interacted with. Usually he was met with derision, and even a little hatred. Sins of the father—and the mother—definitely will be visited upon the son a thousand times over.

“I don’t like to sleep,” he offered quietly, “Too vulnerable. I don’t like being vulnerable.” It was an odd quirk that he had developed within the snake pit faced with so many who didn’t like him, also a safe one. It made studying so much easier, if only he could get his Transfiguration to cooperate.

His voice brought about a sudden awareness, and Nocturnius let out a slight sigh as her wardrobe became stifling. The heavy coat had been suited to the wintry outdoors, but here it was sweltering and she was quick to reach up and unzip it. Letting the garment slip off her shoulders, she folded it over one arm and shifted nearer to her company.

"I imagine you're right," she remarked, "it would be a bit of both... talent is pretty useless if you don't have the skills to utilize it."

The name became clearer now, and she settled on his gaze she was quite sure she knew who he was. Lestrange. There was something ironic about two people with such infamous names meeting in such an off-chance manner, though she would assume he didn't know hers or even care to.

"I can see that," she said quietly. In fact, she understood his answer perfectly. It was paranoia that drove her to restlessness, and that feeling that she was safer awake that kept her from her dorm room and ultimately wandering about the school grounds. "So then do you usually come here instead of sleeping? Not that I would bother you, of course... simply curious."