[un]famous[ly]

[mariasanchez]

Ever since the month of September had arrived, the autumnal season was starting to become more and more noticeable as the time passed. The leaves on the trees were starting to fade from green to yellows and oranges and reds before being blow gently off the branches of the trees by the breeze about the grounds. The breeze brought a certain coolness and feeling to Hogwarts that was only felt around this time of the year. It was not a bad sort of feeling, but it was definitely different. It was not something Maria Sanchez had ever felt before, but in a way, she really did like it. Her children had always told her of the mysterious things Hogwarts seemed to do to them around different times of the year. She always thought that it was frivolous, but here she was feeling those very feelings that both Nayib and Emily had described to her. As a few memories drifted into her head, another one traveled into her head. She had turned fifty only a week or so previously, and her son had turned twenty-seven. She was having a hard time trying to believe this. It was really starting to set into her mind that she was old and needed to accept the truth. Her appearance, however, was deceiving of her age. She looked not a day over thirty or so, and for that, she was extremely grateful. The best part about it was that she used no magic or cosmetics to keep herself in such a way.

It was true. Maria had taken very good care of herself during her fifty years of life that she managed to stay looking young and amazingly beautiful. She had a nice figure, though she could have done without her overly curved hips (even though her husband very much liked them). She had brown hair with a few streaks of gray here and there from aging, but other than that, nothing more was really visible. Her dark chocolate-colored eyes were stunningly gentle and calm but also had a deadly seriousness to them that made anyone listen to her every word in each accented syllable of her voice. Most people were shocked when she told them her age and revealed that she had two children. She did not know why people got so amazingly amazed at her for that. She supposed that she was just blessed.

With a sigh, the fifty-year-old woman sat beneath the tree by the lake on the ground with her legs crossed Indian-style. Resting upon her crossed legs was a newly bought guitar that she had received for her birthday from her niece. She had had little time to play it, and since it was Saturday, she was taking her time to do so then. So, she plucked at the strings and played a few notes here and there before thinking of a song she could play and sing. She wished very much to sing for Emily or even Nayib or Emilio would have sufficed, but none of them were there with her at that very moment. Sighing when she realized how bored she was, she started to play a random song that she had written and then started to sing along to it.

It was not the best she had ever done, for she had not been able to practice her vocals as she was once so used to doing. However, her voice traveled in the air with a light tune and certain inner beauty to it.

"What in this world, feels so alive
Makes us then breaks us
Then helps us survive
Buries our hopes, then revives
Our desire to succeed
We're all greed

Who in this world, see's when i cry
Throws me then shows me
That I'm justified
Measure my worth then decide
That I'm not what they need
They've agreed

Where in this world can I hide
Where can I find
Someone that see's me inside
To confide

How in this world, can I go on
Wondering if you'll think
Of me when I'm gone
Shielding my eyes from
The pityless light of the glare
Should you care

When in this world is it enough
I never thought
It could be quite this rough
Living my life as if
Millions of people don't stare
They're not there

Why should I have to defend
Or derive
Most of the rules of the game,
I've defied
Though it's been hard on my pride
It's been one hell of a ride
Curiously..
I didn't set out to be..
Famous"

When she finished singing, she felt herself smile lightly as she played her hand over the strings of the guitar and silenced it. She had not expected anyone to be paying attention to her, but if they were, she would not have cared. Her father and grandmother always said that she was a performer even though she knew that education was always what she wanted to be part of. She believed highly in education even though she really did love singing. She knew she had talent. She had been told several times, but she never thought that she would make it big at anytie in her life.

When she had not exactly been expecting it, she heard a voice coming from behind her. She had not really thought that soeone would actually be listening to her, but apparently they were. When she turned, she felt her cheeks go slightly rosy-colored. "Uh...hello," she said with a slight grin on her face as she situated herself on the ground a bit. She swallowed and looked at the lake's water sparkling with the sun.

[[OOC: Meh, sorry it really sucks.]]

SONG: Famous - Gloria Estefan
{HERE} is where you can click to listen to the song and how it sounds. The video is ALL live. And that IS really Gloria Estefan (my character's celeb) singing. So, yeah...

[Kirsten Everett]

Going outside had been at the top of Kirsten's list for hours now, she just hadn't actually gotten around to doing it. First there was Transfiguration homework - that was truly a stroke of bad luck and then there was that Defense Against the Dark Arts essay... what was that about again? All those magical uses of dragon's blood? Well now Kirsten had set her foot down - literally. After discovering that last little piece, Kirsten had let out a flustered sigh, stamped her foot in annoyance and proceeded to march out of the Hufflepuff common room in a fit of unruly frustration. It had never been this work-laden in her fourth year, why did this have to be so bloody different?! And the homework wasn't even the worst of it, as Kirsten had found out at breakfast time, before her simply ludicrous day had begun.

Shuddering inwardly as she hopped down the steps two at a time - funny, she never did that while walking up them... - Kirsten burst out into the outside, immediately savoring the pale autumn warmth upon her face and the fresh breeze that had conveniently decided to blow through at that very second, ruffling Kirsten's already messy wisps of blonde hair. The wind also brought with a beautiful song, one that the free Hufflepuff now felt at liberty to go investigate. The voice sounded strangely familiar - perhaps one of the students? Anyway, it come from near the lake, which looked quite lovely today, with the sun glistening upon its almost untouched surface - everywhere that the little ripples caused by who-knows-what made the wavelets that Kirsten so enjoyed. Nice.

But closing in on her target. Was that...? Professor Sanchez?! Her Charms teacher? Eyes widened - what a lovely voice. Why on Earth did she become a teacher? And then her teacher said hello, and Kirsten realized that she had spoken out loud. Oops.

Er. Sorry Professor. Didn't mean to interrupt.

Tentatively Kirsten offered a smile, mortified at what she had said.

[mariasanchez]

The professor allowed her chocolate-eyes to fall upon the gentle flowing water of the lake. The surface of the water sparkled with the rays of the sun and showed the reflections of things such as the mountains many feet across to the other side as well as the clouds and sun hovering overhead. The woman turned her head so that her attention was brought back the the student who had decided to join her--unintentionally, of course. She allowed the most pleasant of smiles to pass across her lips as she blinked lightly. The sunlight captured in her eyes momentarily and caused them to look lighter than they actually were. She swallowed as the September air seemed to cause her throat to dry for some strange reason. She situated herself a bit and leaned against the trunk of the tree as to rest her back. Her hand carefully covered the hole of the guitar so that the strings would not pluck and make noises. Once she found herself comfortable on the fairly cold ground, she breathed in once somewhat heavily and then heard the girl's apology about interrupting within her ears. Her smile grew somewhat wider but did not take over her face. She merely shook her head lightly.

"It's okay. You weren't interrupting me," she said, her accent present in her voice as it traveled in the air. "I was done." The professor glanced at the guitar and ran her hand along the smooth and shiny wood.

It had been her husband who bought her the guitar for her birthday. The other guitar she had--the one her father and grandmother gave her--was about forty years old and extremely cracked from the used-to-be frequent use of it. Maria used to play that guitar and sing along so much. Emilio had always asked her to sing to him and play for him, so she did. Emily was the same way, and when Nayib was not working hard at the Ministry, he was too. However, since Emily had gone off to Hogwarts, it had only been Emilio and Maria at home, and they both worked. Now Maria had joined her daughter at Hogwarts, but it was as a professor and not a student, of course. Her dear husband...he was left at home alone--the poor dear.

Once the professor was done wading in her thoughts, she looked from the guitar at the girl and offered another one of her genuine smiles. "You can sit with me," she said simply, nodding her head to a clear space on the grass. The professor did not mind the company--no, not at all. She was actually kind of glad that someone had come along. She had not met too many people since she came to Hogwarts only a few weeks before to teach. She was looking foward to the coming term, but it was going to be extremely complicated since she knew no one, and the castle was so large that she was still trying to learn her way around. With a faint sigh, the professor brushed her hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear so that it was not in her eyes. However, the light breeze blew it from behind her ear and back into her face, which caused her to blink almost unexpectedly. She sighed once more and then brushed it from her eyes but let it remain in her face. Oh, how she hated her hair at times...

[Kirsten Everett]

That was absolutely wonderful! Where did you learn to sing and play like that?

Kirsten didn't feel like she was really talking to her Charms teacher, more like a stranger whom she had just recently engaged in conversation. Maybe it was the solid, comforting guitar, or perhaps the soothing laps of the lake. Or maybe it was both. At Prof. Sanchez's invitation, Kirsten flopped onto the grass across her teacher, just as mercilessly as she had when sitting with Serena. The memories of that conversation brought a grin to Kirsten's curious expression, and she kept it there while waiting for the rather nice [and tolerant] professor to respond to her inquiry.

ooc. sorry its so short - my dad wants to print some pictures of ostriches. ^^ will be back on in a sec. =]

[mariasanchez]

Despite the cool breeze blowing across the grounds, the professor felt her cheeks turning somewhat warm as the student gave her a simple compliment about her singing and playing. As a slightly toothy smile crept upon her face, the woman's cheeks went from the pale coloring they usually had to a light rosy pink color that was only displayed when she was embarrassed about something. She was not really embarrassed about being complimented, but she was flattered that someone aside from her family and really close friends was complimenting her on something that she rarely displayed to anyone aside from those who were extremely close to her. She bit her lower lip lightly in slight nervousness as the young girl inquired where she had learned to play and sing. The professor let out a slightly breathed laugh and then tilted her head to the side as she shrugged her shoulders lightly.

"Well," she started somewhat slowly in a low and obviously somewhat nervous voice. "I didn't actually learn. I...mostly taught myself." At the word 'taught,' the professor made the quotation signs to show that she had not actually taught herself since she played her own way however she wanted. It was true. She could not tell you many note names, nor could she explain to you what chords were for what strings. She just played and sang words to go along with it. "My father didn't know how to play; my grandmother didn't either. We didn't even have that much money for ourselves, so I couldn't get lessons." She lifted her brows, bit her lower lip, and tilted her head to the site. "I just improvised."

She let out a light, short, feminine chuckle and then cleared her throat. She swallowed lightly. Her reply had been in response to how she knew to play the guitar so well. How had she learned to sing so well? Thinking, she inhaled and exhaled deeply in the form of a sigh and then looked at the water and thought of her childhood. She had been singing since she could talk--or as long as she could remember. Her grandmother used to sing old ballads to her, and her father would do the same when he was not working. She had learned the songs and sung them through her childhood before eventually composing her own on the inside of her head. She did not usually share them, for she played them to herself while she was alone in her room, especially when she was upset. They were her form of tears. Her way of crying.

"If you have a voice, you can sing. It doesn't take lessons or teaching to learn to do such a thing; you pick it up naturally. There are some people that are more talented than others while some just try harder. I guess singing just came naturally for me," she explained with a smile and then ran her fingers along the length of the strings but did not allow them to make a noise. She looked at the light brown polished wood and ran her fingers along the smooth surface of polished wood. She could see the marks her fingers had made, and it annoyed her slightly, but she ignored it. There was always time for cleaning her guitar later.

[Kirsten Everett]

Listening to Professor Sanchez was rather enjoyable - she had a pretty voice [was that even possible?] and her answers sounded just like the type of response one could get from a great teacher - casual, yet informative. Kirsten was pleasantly surprised when the Charms professor flushed at her compliment - you forgot teachers were sentient beings, did you? Shaking her head mentally at her simpleness, Kirsten continued to listen to Prof. Sanchez.

"If you have a voice, you can sing. It doesn't take lessons or teaching to learn to do such a thing; you pick it up naturally. There are some people that are more talented than others while some just try harder. I guess singing just came naturally for me,"

Laughing at a silent thought in her head, Kirsten explained her somewhat odd behaviour with a flourish of her hand and a quirky smile on her face.

Lucky! When I sing, I swear I can hear the glass rattling.

The Hufflepuff figured that her formality that was displayed in the classroom was not prudent here, and thus trekked on, though changing her topic swiftly - it simply would not do to have Prof. Sanchez ask to hear her sing. Then all of the lovely, colorful birds might fly off.

I'm curious, Professor, why did you become a Charms teacher?

It was something she wanted to know - just like she wanted to know how on Earth Slughorn had landed the Potions job at Hogwarts. Whoever hired him had to be mad - unless, of course, Prof. Dumbledore had. Then he might have seen the social use that the Potions master had.

[mariasanchez]

The professor lifted her head so that she was staring into the branches of the tree hovering above them. She squinted her eyes since the sun was peering slightly through the leaves. In the tree's branches, she could see a few birds just resting with their eyes open and alert for any sorts of dangers that they could possibly encounter. For a second the professor contemplated and thought about whistling in hopes that they might respond to her though she would know what what they said. However, she opted against it and bit her tongue--quite literally, in fact. When she looked back at the young girl, she was biting down lightly on the tif of her tongue with her front teeth. She wore a smile and looked quite childish, but it was not that she particularly minded. If people thought she was a loony, then people thought she was a loony. If people thought that she was an intelligent individual (which she was), then they thought she was an intelligent individual. It actually all depended upon the person with whom you were speaking as well as the perspective in which they see you. The professor knew and understood this, so she was no worried of other people's opinins about her.

The young girl spoke of her own singing and how glass seemed to rattle when she allowed her voice to be projected in a simple melodic tune. The professor bit down on her tongue a bit too hard and blinked quickly as a slight wince came across her face. Well, she was most certainly not going to do that anymore (or so she said to herself, anyway).

"The rattling of glass is probably all just in your head--part of your self-consciousness playing mind games with you. I'm sure you sound fine, but I can't say for sure since I've never heard you before. Just keep in mind that you're your own worst enemy and the worst judge you can possibly ever meet." She gave the girl a light wink of one eye and then ran her slender and soft hand through her hair with strands of gray here and there. She swallowed and blinked before hearing the girl's other inquiry. She wanted to know what her professor had become the Charms professor. The woman knew her reasoning for it off the top of her head, but she sat there in simple silence as if thinking about it.

"Ever since I was a young girl--no more than six or seven--I wanted to be a professor. At the time I didn't know much about magic, so I hadn't really settled on Charms," she paused and thought of how she wanted to say what she had to say next. "My mother was a Charms professor before she died. I never knew her, but I always said that I wanted to be just like her. It never occurred to me that most children said the same thing about wanting to be like their parents until they grew and realized how awful it would be. The thought of being like my mami was never frivolous to me--never." She smiled lightly and stared down at her fingers as she started to pick at her fingernails a bit. She then lifted her head and looked back at the Hufflepuff with a look of purpose on her face.

"I started teaching many years ago--Merlin, I don't even know how old I was when I started. At first, things were complicated, and I wondered what the heck I wanted to teach for and why I had ever settled on it. The students were just...out there. But things started to calm down and settle, like tea leaves at the bottom of your tea cup when it's been sitting there for a while. I realized it wasn't so bad after all. In fact, I realized that teaching was one of the most rewarding careers one could choose. Besides, if you don't teach what you've learned, you'll lose it all as easily as you obtained it." She laughed lightly. What she was saying was factual information mixed with her own opinions on things. That was just her way of thinking.

"As for Charms, well, it should be obvious that I take a certain interest in them as well as have a certain strength for them or else I would not be teaching them. They were always my best in school, and I just studied them further when I went to the university." She shrugged a bit, unsure of what more she could say.

She had never been asked that question before, and she was surprised that a student had been the one to ask her. Her husband had asked her why she wanted to teach, but they were both adults, and it was different coming from an adult than from a student. Most of the time students did not seem to care about you, what you taught, or the reason why you chose teach it. Maybe the students at Hogwarts were different...just maybe...

[Kirsten Everett]

Following the professors gaze - was someone eavesdropping up there - Kirsten was relieved to only see a few colorful birds who didn't seem to be enjoying the afternoon break. Or perhaps they were, in their own little birdie way. Letting her sight drop down to the level that they had been at before, Kirsten was mildly amused to catch a glimpse Professor Sanchez biting her tongue. Whatever for? The Charms teacher's next words, however, the Hufflepuff girl carefully contemplated - wherever did people learn to be so wise? But still. Kirsten was still stubbornly set on believing she sounded awful, though did smile at her professor's advice. She would most definitely be taking it under consideration in other aspects of her life.

But before Kirsten could make perhaps a light joke or even a simple reply, Prof. Sanchez went on to explain how she got to become a Charms professor at Hogwarts. Soon she was engrossed in the story, listening to her teacher's thoughts and opinions on certain matters and such. The older lady's pauses and silences gave Kirsten the impression that this could be the first time she had recounted the tail, but that was only registered in her sub-conscious mind. Further up the ladder though, the 5th year Hufflepuff was mentally wondering where Professor Sanchez had been educated, for her accent was not that of the Brits. It was a truly interesting recantation, one that Kirsten enjoyed immensely.

Thats amazing, Professor.

Then a wide grin broadened upon her flushed face, and Kirsten spoke once again, not really one for dwelling on the past - even if had been what, five seconds? - before uttering something else.

Professor, I was-

Just at that very moment the great bells tolled, announcing to the Hogwarts community that it was dinner. Hm. Kirsten hadn't even noticed the dimming autumn sunlight, but when she automatically glanced upward she did indeed notice the twilight fast approaching and the hint of a shower coming their way. Apologetically Kirsten smiled at her professor, knowing she understood Kirsten's, well, want [for lack of a better word] to get inside. Bouncing merrily to her feet - that was not pleasant - Kirsten gave a friendly wave to her teacher, happy to have had that conversation with her, even if the professor had done most of the talking. But the Hufflepuff's tummy was rumbling, and, as much as she would have liked to ignored it, she was actually feeling rather hungry. Pausing just long enough so that Prof. Sanchez could perhaps say her own goodbye, she inserted one last sentence before skipping side in hopes of outrunning the rain.

Thank you, Professor. Really. I'm glad we got to talk.

Ok, so it sounded a little corny. But what can you do?