I left my dressing room and practically skipped down the hallway. On the way up to the stage, I stopped to talk to someone from sound. "Would you mind sending what the microphones pick up down to my dressing room please?" I asked. "My friend would like to hear the rehearsal but not watch it."
"Of course!" The soundman turned to his control panel and pressed a few buttons. "All set."
"Thank you so much!" I squeezed the man's shoulder in gratitude before heading to the side door of the stage. Sophie was standing by it and turned to me when she heard me coming. She had a strange look on her face. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Who was in your dressing room with you?" She asked, a suspicious glint in her eyes. I opened my mouth to decline the notion that there was anyone in my dressing room, but Sophie spoke first. "Don't deny it. I heard you talking to someone. A man to be exact."
"He's a friend. I ran into him on my way back after lunch. I offered to let him see my dressing room. I warmed up a bit, then we talked. I'll introduce you at break, if you want. I have to go onstage now." Hearing the orchestra begin to tune, I walked out onstage and tuned with the rest of the string section. Sophie took a seat in the auditorium to make sure the balance between the orchestra and I was correct.
After the orchestra tuned, the conductor talked a little and re-introduced Aimée to the orchestra. She explained a little about the first piece they would be rehearsing, the Zigeunerweisen by Pablo de Sarasate. She explained the piece's origins and how she first heard it while studying at the New England Conservatory. After Aimée got the conductor's permission to start by running through the piece, there was silence.
Then, the piece started. As I listened, I heard the first melody that seemed to be desperately longing for something. Aimée made her violin sing throughout the melody, and before I knew it her part became more animated. She took the original melody and embellished it. Listening to it, I wanted to run up and see her play it. See her facial expressions; watch how she moved as she played. The melody, so beautiful, yet so sad, reminded me of Lily's death. I remembered seeing her lifeless body lying on the floor. I picked her up and cradled her in my arms, crying. As the violin's melody soared higher, a few tears slid down my cheeks; the first tears I had shed since that fateful night all those years ago.
I jumped as the piece suddenly became loud and spirited, quite a shock after the quiet, sustained note that preceded it. I smiled as I pictured Aimée's fingers flying as the piece came to its exciting conclusion. I couldn't help but clap with the orchestra after the piece had finished. To say I was impressed was an understatement. I couldn't believe that a mere muggle could do something like that. No music I had ever encountered in the wizarding world had affected me in such a way. I was still mildly shocked as they started to work on sections of the piece, sometimes with Aimée playing and sometimes without her playing. Finally, they ran the piece once more before moving on to the Beethoven Violin Concerto. It affected me the same way as it had before.
Break finally came after 45 minutes of work on the first movement of the Beethoven. I talked with the concertmaster about the Sarasate as I walked off of the stage. As she walked toward the orchestra green room and I walked toward my dressing room, Sophie ambushed me. "How did it sound?" I asked her as I wiped a bit of sweat from my forehead with my sleeve.
"Pure magic, as always," she grinned at me. That's Sophie, always complimenting me, proud of the musician I was becoming. "The audience will be spellbound." I had to smile at that. "So, who is this friend who is in your dressing room?"
"His name is Severus. I met him in Boston when one of my friends dragged me to a Red Sox game." I tried to make my lie sound convincing as I made up a situation that led to us meeting each other. By this point, we were at the door to my dressing room. I opened it and saw Severus sitting on my sofa. I smiled at him as I let Sophie in. "Sophie, this is my friend Severus. Severus, this is my teacher and friend Sophie."
"It's nice to meet you, Severus," Sophie said, shaking his hand. He nodded in response. "Aimée was just telling me how you two met. I was surprised you met in a sports stadium! Aimée usually avoids sports like the plague." I rolled my eyes.
"We both were dragged there against our wills by our friends," Severus said, thankfully going along with the lie I had started. I smiled gratefully at him. The corners of his lips twitched up in response.
"Yes, I saw him sitting on the other side of my friend looking as uninterested as I was. I switched places with my friend and we struck up a quick friendship. The first thing I asked him was why he was in America, as I could clearly hear his British accent. That's when he told me he was getting a graduate degree at Boston College." I finished the lie, hoping Sophie was satisfied. Unfortunately, she wasn't.
"What were you studying?" she asked Severus. I bit my lip, nervous that he wouldn't know what to say.
"Chemistry," he lied easily. "I have enjoyed mixing different substances since I was young." He's so much better at this than I am, I thought.
"Nice. Well, I am going to go talk to the conductor. Aimée, sit down and take a breather before the second half of rehearsal. Severus, it was nice meeting you." With that, she turned and left my dressing room, closing the door behind her. I let out a sigh of relief.
"Sorry about that. She's a bit too interested in my relationships sometimes." I let myself collapse onto the sofa next to him. I wiped the last remnants of sweat from my forehead.
"It's fine. Can I ask why you lied to her?" He was hesitant while asking this, almost as if he was nervous about asking a personal question. I suppose he probably was.
"I don't know for sure. I guess I thought if I told her the truth, she would just ask more questions and I'd never get her off my back. Or maybe I thought she wouldn't approve. I owe her so much for getting my career off to such a good start, but she can be annoying sometimes. I know she just wants my life to be the best it can be and she wants me to live up to my potential, but sometimes I just want to forget about music, let loose, and just live my life. Do you know how I feel?" I turned toward Severus, who was patiently waiting for me to finish my mini rant. He turned and looked at me.
"In some ways," he said simply. Apparently he isn't much of a talker, I thought. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he remained silent.
"Oh, about your question earlier," I started. He looked at me confused. "About my accent. My mother is French and my father is German. I spent a lot of time in both France and Germany when I was growing up. I also spent four years in Boston, at the New England Conservatory. I grew up trilingual. My parents would converse in English, as neither could speak the other's primary language very well. But in school, I would have to speak either French or German. I never really saw my parents much. My mom is a famous soprano and my dad's a famous violinist, so they were always traveling. I went with them when I wasn't at school. My fondest childhood memories were when I would just sit with them and listen to music. I guess that's why I wanted to become a musician." I glanced at Severus, who was just watching me. Not in a creepy way, but almost in an admiring way. I giggled, slightly embarrassed. A brief look of confusion swept across his face. "I'm talking a lot again, aren't I?"
"It's not bothering me. You're childhood sounds very pleasant."
"I guess. It was hard when we moved to Germany. I had to make new friends, and it seemed people only wanted to be friends with me to get tips on music. In general, people stayed away from me. I was tormented, especially after I kept getting solos in both orchestra and chorus at school. No one in one of the youth orchestras I was in would talk to me because I got first chair flute when I was twelve. In the other youth orchestra, I was equally hated because I got first chair first violin at thirteen. When I think back on it, I only had one real friend until I went to NEC. And I had to leave her behind when I moved to Germany. We still write to each other weekly and visit as often as we can…"
"All of those people were just jealous of your talent," Severus reassured me, catching me off guard. I wasn't expecting that. I blushed and started plucking imaginary loose hairs off of my bow. "They realized how dedicated you were to music and were jealous that they weren't as dedicated as you."
"Thanks," I said awkwardly. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, I spoke again. "How did you like the first half of rehearsal?" A small smile appeared on his lips.
"It was beautiful," he said, looking down at his hands. "I never knew something like that was possible. I… I actually started tearing up a bit at one point…" his voice trailed off and he was suddenly very interested in the wall on the other side off him. I blushed again.
"Then I'm doing my job," I said quietly. He turned to look at me.
"What? How is making me cry doing your job?"
"Someone once said, 'music is what feelings sound like.' When composers compose music, they try to write music that would convey certain feelings, for example, sadness. The great majority of composers accomplished this, so it is then up to the musicians to convey these feelings to the audience. If the audience, in this case you, is emotionally affected by the music, then we have done our jobs. It is sometimes hard for me to play because I get so caught up in the music I am literally crying while performing. One of the most difficult things musicians have to do is convey emotion while not getting too caught up in the emotions. I still struggle with that."
Severus looked stunned. It took him a few seconds to speak again. "I had no idea music is like that. I thought people just listened to music to hear it. I didn't know it has such an emotional value. How do composers convey emotions anyway?"
"That would take me far too long to tell you now. I need to be back on the stage in seven minutes. I can tell you over dinner if you would like."
"Okay, " he said after staring at me for a couple of seconds. "When will we go?"
"After the second half of rehearsal. I have two hours off before another rehearsal from seven 'till ten."
"Another rehearsal? How many do you have?"
"Three today, three tomorrow." His jaw dropped ever so slightly. "But I'm only needed at the last one tomorrow."
"Don't you get tired?"
"Yes, but it's worth it in the end. Playing is very strenuous at times. I can't tell you how many times my fingers have actually started bleeding from practicing too much at one time." I glanced at the clock. "I should really get up to the stage now. I'll see you in a little bit, then we can decide where to go for dinner."
Aimée got up and left the room. My brain was trying to process everything she told me. I couldn't believe she has caused herself to bleed just by practicing. I also couldn't believe I actually told her I cried a little during the piece. Not long after she left, she came back in and grabbed something from her violin case. "What's that?" I asked her.
"Rosin. I'll explain its purposed later." With that, she left the room again. I closed my eyes as I waited for the rehearsal to continue.
Author's Note: This took longer to write than I was expecting. I was hoping to get it done before going back to school, but that didn't happen. I'll try to write at least one chapter a month. I'll write more if I have time, but AP history is very time consuming. Hope you like it!
~principalflutist1