our own little [music box], IOANA/ARIA<33

[Leona Santos]

Darkness – described in so many ways, used to represent so many things…
Cold, evil, haunting… Serene, soothing, isolating...
Mysterious.

Being in the dark was… interesting. There was so little you could do with its presence, as most needed some sort of light source to function around in. And yet, there were a few beautiful things that you could use it for, one of which the witch was more than familiar with.

She walked, lightly so, on feet comfortably slipped into darkened gold shoes, with heels uplifted a few inches and straps laced with softened fabric that wrapped around her ankles in a snug fit. In her hands she held the ends of her ebony colored dress, feeling the layers of thin fabric that made up the frills begin to dampen in her clenched hands. Her legs brushed against her lengthy dress, tickling her skin as its rough, inner fabric was known to bite at her legs at least a little before a dance. The girl ignored this, of course. It wasn’t anything new to her – none of this was, actually. Wandering into the blanket of darkness that the hall provided at this hour of the night was a mere ritual to the badger; one that had been established for some time now. It wasn’t anything official, nor something that had to be done out of necessity. What she was doing was something purely for fun. It was something that calmed her, and something that mended her homesick heart when the days spent away from her homeland were persistent enough to remind of her sorrow.

Well within the realm of darkness, the witch then unsheathed her wand from out of her bag, waving it in the proper way to guide her decorations to surround the room. Large, circular lanterns, lit softly with tiny enchanted embers, emerged from the depths of her bag, filing the room with faint ovals of light that scattered throughout the air in such a way that kept the dark blanket still dark, yet with sprinkled areas of dim light to aid the eye in seeing. With her part in the matter finished, the Spanish girl took hold of her dress again after sliding her bag and wand to an area that she had no intention on being near. There was no use for either article for what she was going to be doing anyway…

Steadily she rose an arm, up to be parallel with her mid torso, positioning the other to be slightly below that guideline. A breath, a sigh, and her eyes were closed, shutting off all of her senses for a moment. As her body became stoic, her senses slowly came back to her, reminding her of everything surrounding her. The dress she wore, whose straps were adored in trimmings of gold and black, created the image of a blooming flower that had somehow become draped around her biceps, hugged at her frame softly. It showed off the curves of her body well, rising and falling gently as if it were naturally attached to her skin. And then there was the meek aroma of polished wood and dust that filled her nose, leaving behind a tinge of bitterness as it exited her lungs. It was pleasant enough, but more importantly it set the mood within her body. That mood being one of patience, one that was mute and mature, and one that kept her from morphing into the normal, overly energetic witch that she was most known for. She would be professional tonight - it was required of her. The dead silence that rang sweetly through her ears helped to keep this promise - this one, unspoken promise that was always carried out, as Leona wasn't one to ever go back on a promise. Not even the unofficial kind.

[Aria Aranda]

Aria heard soft patter of feet, soft breathing, and felt the pull of something deep within her. She hadn't planned on being near the dance hall. But something about the word ballare made her want to, well, dance. Pushing some of her blond-ish hair gently from her face, she looked towards the nearest dance room and felt her heart pounding.

Il mio amore. Morbido. Rallentare. Her mother's lullaby floated into her mind like a soft whisper, a hum that had long imprinted itself on her soul. Her rational mind was screaming at her to go back and study. After all, she was getting behind in Potions which was unacceptable. It was irrational. It was childish. It sounded positively... Marvelous. Aria quietly snapped her book shut after marking her page with a ribbon, and stowed it safely away in her satchel. With tentative steps towards the hall, she gulped and whisked her wand over her clothes. White, soft lace met her skin where her robes had been just moments before. Simple white heels made her clack on her path to the room. It only heightened her embarrassment for her decision, and she almost turned back.

Almost. She silently opened the door and gazed inside, wearily checking what the sounds were coming from.

Che cos'è questo? She thought with wide eyes. Blinding black met her, save for the few, soft bubbles floating magically through the air. They pulled, pushed, and glided with each other through the darkness. It illuminated the room just enough to see a beautiful girl dancing gracefully through the shadows, obviously in her own world. Seeing her traipse through the room artistically, like though walking on air... Aria yearned to join her. The moves... Aria's heart sped. So familiar. It was so similar. Similar to her very own dances from home. Her heart suddenly began to burn. She almost needed this now. All inhibitions thrust aside, she entered the room and set her bag beside the door. Vi prego di scusarmi, signorina. She mentally murmured. Please excuse me, miss.

Aria wrapped her arms round her waist, hesitantly closing her eyes as she turned her head to the left and set her right foot out beside her. Dancing is natural to us, bella. Mother stood beside her, setting her hand on gently on her shoulder. Tears stung her eyes. You know what to do, you dig deep, remember your roots. She did just that, feeling herself move to the beat she could imagine. Her parent's anniversary, her mother sang a beautiful love song. It moved and pulsed through her limbs, dancing in tandem to the absent melody. Her feet almost marched in front of her, arms still wrapped around her waist before her right extended slowly out. She danced lithely next to the clearly Spanish donna. Aria nearly giggled at the irony. Spanish and Italian dancing in the same room with almost the same dance moves, working in tandem without knowing each other and without actually interacting. She rocked her hips slowly, slipping around to see the Latina woman who was in the same room. The globes pulsed sweet pink and gold in her mind. She recognized the curves on the girl she so obviously lacked. The lips, the hair, the innate loveliness that glowed from her. Aria looked at the girl, heart pounding. She was so beautiful. This moment was beautiful. She almost felt like she was home, with her mother dancing beside her. And that, in of itself, was enough to make Aria's heart bloom.

[Leona Santos]

As the seventh year heard the rapid clicking of her heels against the wooden floor, her mind constructed the melodies that were supposed to accompany her rhythm. She followed tradition in her mental melody, creating the sweet sound of a guitar that began as a whisper, then grew to beat alongside the natural thumping of her heart, its speed then transitioning between quick and slow, as this was customary to a Latin song. The strummed instrument swayed her body, guiding her movements smoothly across the floor as if she were gliding over a still lake, and inspiring her arms to twitch gracefully from side to side, each wave created from this forcing her dress to flare out in mini explosions of black and gold. The melody in her head grew louder, louder… louder until she could swear she could the clatter of another pair of shoes with her. Slowly the badger opened her eyes, finding the she appreciated the way the dim lights didn’t sting them as they widened. Dark hazel irises found the source of the double clicking in the form of a young girl who moved about with such passion and poise that Leona wouldn’t dare interrupt. She’d ruin the moment if she did, and doing such a thing would have been a horrible mistake. How often was it that two dancers, clearly from different places when considering the attire and style, came together and moved along in such a perfect way? Their bodies were in sync, each motion and click harmonizing with the other as if they were life-time partners, destined to do this together from birth. Leona, in her darkened garments that blended into the night so well that her presence was only known from the gold that adorned her body, and the *bailadora, contrasting the badger's dark form with a pure white that allowed her younger frame to glow with the innocence of an angel. They went perfectly together, each performing in their own unique way, yet somehow colliding together in such a way that made it look as if they had rehearsed the routine for years.

But no such training had been done, as this was the first time the pair had graced the hall with their combined skills. The Spanish girl removed all thoughts surrounding the matter, losing herself in the music again. The castanets had chimed in during her absence, echoing her clicking heels at first, then breaking off to add their own beat, quickened in pace and taking the lead. Her feet jumped about, trailing along after bursting rhythms, failing beautifully at keeping up with the fast instrument. The space between the clattering grew, allowing the gentle voice of the guitar to ring proudly in her head once more. The melody was slowed, singing passionately at a lost lover as each string plucked produced a note sweeter than the last. The castanets enticed the clapping of another versed in the language of song, producing a counter beat to the one it played. All together combined, Leona could hear the concert as if she were back at home, back in the old dusty streets of Madrid, surrounded by her people whose hearts were connected with hers through the shared love of dance. Somewhere within her, tears begged for a chance to climb out, but the wails were quickly silenced, as it was not the time yet to stop.

But the faint whisper of pain that clawed at her insides provoked the witch enough to sneak another peek at her companion. It seemed that the younger witch knew her moves well, as she appeared to show them off as if they were an old, dear friend. The talent there was evident in every motion she did, clearly proving to the witch that she was not yet at the level of control that the younger witch seemed to be at. It wasn't just her great ability to move in time that amazed the Spanish girl though - no, that was only a taste of the younger girl's raw talent. The air that she carried, the simplistically gorgeous way that she dressed, and the clear knack for her dancing style combined to create a thick aura of passion around the girl, adding to the shine of her already illuminating form. Perhaps it was just the Hufflepuff's eyes, but as she watched the strong movements of the younger witch, she could have sworn she saw the orbs nearest to her glow brighter, as if the witch's passion was fueling the tiny embers trapped inside. It tantalized the badger, urging her to stop, just for a second, to gaze in awe at the grace of one so young. She vanquished the thought swiftly, turning her gaze to her side as continued to work with her hands, pushing them through the air as if she were treading through water.

Of course she couldn’t stop… it would ruin the beauty of it all if she did.

*note: dancer :3

[Aria Aranda]

Aria felt the dark lick against her skin, almost sucking her into her own world. Perfection She lifted her arm into the air, swishing her skirt behind her gracefully, almost appearing to be underwater. Darkness was the perfect canvas to start anew. She could use her moves to paint the picture she wanted. Her mother's voice guided her. Blue, she clapped lightly and pushed her hand out in a wide arch. Green, she trailed her foot slowly in a semi circle. Soft, gleaming yellow, she arched her back and kept in rhythm with the instrument of her mother's lilting soprano voice. Love bubbled in the lanterns next to her, reacting to Aria's passion which made her own inner magic take flight. The light didn't increase, no, that would ruin how smoothly the two beautiful girls danced with each other. Ruin this perfect moment. It simply... changed its spectral output to mirror the Italian beauty's deep feelings. She smiled, lips turning upwards as she saw the girl dance. She danced to her own rhythm. Aria couldn't have loved it any other way.

With practiced steps, Aria twirled and circled the other girl as though they'd planned the entire performance out. Aria's heart pounded, she beamed, and she listened to the music in her heart. The guitars, zampogna, and flutes fluttered their music. Christmas was painted in the dark canvas provided. Mother danced with her, seeming to come to life through this other, older girl who she'd never seen before.

Thank you. Aria murmured in her mind, gratitude and joy swelled in her. And Aria knew, even if they never met again, that she would always remember this moment and that she'd be indebted to the girl for giving her such a precious moment. A precious feeling. Aria dared not interrupt the girl's dance. Would she barge into her own dance? No. Besides, a symphony was admired best when they played. Aria could clearly see the symphony inside her new dance partner. She would work to keep it that way. She swayed and clapped her hands lightly again with the sound of the zampogna blaring out another note.

[Leona Santos]

The strum of a guitar sang the song of romance to Leona, providing her with the warm kisses of a passionate lover, whose lips left lingering feelings of that odd sensation that overcame a person when in the presence of one they held so dear. The guitar not only romanced the badger, but also led her through a dreamy tour of the city she missed so much. The place was dark, a reflection of the actual room that she was in- with dimly lit buildings, surrounding the girl as she flew through the old Streets, peeking in a every nearby window and smiling as she found each to contain a peacefully gathered family, all huddled around and talking the night away. The adobe-like buildings were a faded salmon, with the texture of a rigid canyon layering every inch of every wall. The stone streets themselves contained similar cracks and crevasses, with dust lining each place it could gather in, defining each slab of stone better than their natural outline. The cool, moist air of the city kissed her skin softly, sending miniscule tremors of pleasure up her spine as she lost herself within the tender memories of her homeland. The magical thing about it all was that as soon as Leona began hearing the clapping of her audience again, she was invaded by the strong scents of her home, as if she were actually there, dancing out in the streets with her people in celebration of another day of life. It was beautiful… to think that all it took for the Spanish girl to relive the tangy scents of the food she used to eat, or the exotic aromas of her fellow Spaniards, was the click of a heel, and the melodic singing of a mental orchestra in her head

Just as her nose was relishing the salty scent of a beach, the music stopped, prompting the witch to bury the tips of her brow into her forehead. Why had it stopped? Was it all over this quickly? So soon, so suddenly, so—no. The music was back! Louder, faster – it had changed! No longer were the rhythms rising and falling in tempo. It was a steady speed now, of the sort that Leona adored.

With pursed lips, the badger shed a joyous tear, quickly readjusting her body to change dance styles. Gracefully she broke away from her powerful Flamenco, changing then to an impromptu tango. It was known worldwide that the tango was meant for two, but a dancer had to adjust to make things work. It wasn’t hard for the seventh year to improvise a modified tango anyway. She merely combined the bold, passionate movements of the tango with the tender and vibrant motions of the Salsa, weaving the two together expertly as she picked up her pace again, re-joining the other witch in a harmonious dance once more.

Her steps were strong as each decorated foot was uplifted from the ground and set to fall once more, creating loud, in time, echoes throughout the room. Hands pressed delicately along her waist, providing her with something to keep her shoulders squared and straight. As the peculiar voice of the accordion grew louder, the Spanish girl began to shift her feet over the ground. She glided over the dance floor, her movement’s fluid yet quick. The smooth way of which her feet moved made it appear as if she were hovering over the ground, each pointed foot barely touching the floor before taking flight again. Leona was lost in her own world, contentedly clicking her heels to the rapid beats she heard and forgetting all about the Dance Hall. She wasn’t at Hogwarts anymore, she was exactly where her heart wanted her to be - home, in her beautiful España.

[Aria Aranda]

Aria couldn't help the shivers that went up her spine when her music ended. Fear raced through her. Regret stumped her thoughts. Pain and longing whispered through her like an unwanted infection. It stung her heart and made her want more, more, more of what reminded her of home. Come back to me. Aria mourned the loss of feeling as they began to slip from her, unbidden. Then they stopped and she felt the music playing up once more. It was a faster paced, couple song and Aria immediately tuned in to its broadcast. She gripped her skirts and thrust her hand out beside her, and quickly stepped to the side in perfect time. The handkerchief in her hand lifted as she raised her hand and swished her skirts with gusto.

Her dance heels clicked against the ground as she twirled in circles across the room, swaying her hips and making her skirts twist and twirl in the air. She leaped slightly into the air, gracefully clicking her heels together and landing, then stepping with a lean towards her left. Repeat the jump click, then go to the right. She could imagine her friends laughing, singing, and dancing in time behind her. They urged her on in her beautiful language, helping the music by dancing by her side. Her movements more erratic, and choppy, she kicked into the air, her white dress flying up with her. She kicked again, waving her handkerchief like a flag. In tradition of the naming of her dance, she proceeded to slash the air by her legs, skipping slightly like she was trying to get a massive spider off her legs. Tarantella. It was one of her favorite dances, and one of the famously known dances of Italy.

Get off! She thought, completely lost in her own little world. She was vaguely aware of the girl dancing next to her, and saluted her for the opportunity to relive her gorgeous culture. She grinned and twisted her hips with her arms out, all the while stomping with both her feet as if trying to get the terrifying spider off her body. She ran and did a complete flip in the air, somehow landing quietly and freezing abruptly with one arm folded round her waist and the other stuck straight out . She breathed hard, finding herself in a disappointing state of disrepair. How had she fallen so low that she couldn't dance a simple Tarantella Calabrese? Of course, she didn't have a partner to help with the hopping and flipping in the air like she had back home, but that did not account for the slipping into such an out of shape state. She sucked in a deep breath, hearing the upbeat music fade away and allowing herself a few moments respite. How thrilling.

[Leona Santos]

The passion within the room left the guilty taste of pure, unmodified pleasure on the badger's tongue, pleasing her senses so greatly that she felt it were a crime to be this happy. Her motions were powered with that fuel, displaying a more sensual side to the girl that didn't often come out. Thick curls flowed in rhythm around her shoulders, brushing her skin softly as they swayed between gliding through the air and covering her bare skin. Her mind was blank through the motions she made, leaving only her body to act for her as she delved into the nothingness of the hall. Closed eyes could still make out the fiery glow of the lanterns around the girls, whose entities were seemingly providing the Spanish witch with a warmth that kept her heart beating and skin to lie flat despite the chill of the dark. It wasn't a wonder to her though, her dancing made her feel untouchable. It empowered the girl with some sort of essence that she couldn't quite explain--one that she craved the longer she stayed away from the activity, but one that made the wait for the time to do it all the more satisfying. But, as with all things, this--what she was doing, feeling, expressing... Well, it couldn't last forever. Everything had to come to a finale, be it life, song or dance. But the finale was often the best part--not in that it was the most anticipated thing, but in that it was often the most memorable. After all, the expression was, 'going out with a bang,' not with a gentle hum.

Clicking her heels faster than she had before, the badger twirled around the dance floor, eyes sealed shut to prevent from cheating. Cheating how? Well, a true dancer didn't need their eyes. Vision clouded judgment, forced people to see things that would create apprehension or cause one to hesitate, and that wasn't how dancing should go. A real *bailadora didn't taint their passion with such errors. Instead, they felt their dancing--every jerk, every fluid motion, every click, every jump, every slide, every step--taken and executed through feelings, not sight. And that was how Leona was dancing. She was gliding her heels over every inch of the floor, feeling as the music in her head began to pour out of her body with every step. The castanets were fading, clapping gone, then, finally, the last strum of the guitar hummed through her ears until it too was gone. Her body froze in place for a moment, ending her solo with a bold pose as she held her tear stained face up high, for all that darkness to see. Slowly she opened her eyes, finding that she was near her bag. The witch bent over to it, pulling out her wand as she rose up again. Within the folds of her dress, Leona pulled out a pale colored handkerchief, and folded it quickly into a thick strip. Sketching a new image in her mind, the witch then focused solely on the handkerchief, waving her wand over it as she stitched it into something new. A rose, pale in color though glowing with the same mysterious ember that filled the still floating lanterns, with texture as smooth as the silk of its previous form, and thorns teasingly just as soft. She waltzed over by the other dancer, and gently tossed the flower toward her feet, bowing then as she offered her fellow dancer an acknowledging smile. The other girl was good with the grace and beauty that one would expect from a long-time pro. Eyes gleamed in the dim light, coated in the light tears of happiness that lingered with the seventh year's chest as she looked at the other girl. 'Thank you.' They said as they blinked her tears away. 'Till next time...'

And she was gone, faded back into the darkness from where she had come.

--
*dancer