Late-night was when people come alive.

Late-night was when people came to life and brought themselves a new and came to life in such a different way.

They came into the world and gave the night such a different piece of them that the day would not understand. Maceir walked with a case, a too-large case, in one bandaged hand and a large brimmed hat in the other. The corner of the street was empty except for a group of two other people who she knew well. The two men smiled and waved, greeting her with their usual "Ey Mac n Cheese!" "'Ello Micky Lass."

Maceir smiled at the two and greeted them back.

"Hey Head, Hey Tails. Ready?"

The two men conjured instruments from thin air, Tails with a magicked set of drums and head with a long wooden pipe of an installment, each one made to perform. Maceir set down her case and opened it, removing the polished red axe guitar from the soft confines of the carrying case.She caressed the neck of the instrument and placed it on her hip, her fingers ran down the strings and the vibrations of the movements sounded around the corner of the street as if plugged into an amp, sending a long high pitched sound up and down the block.

"They told me once, nothing grows
When a house ain't a home
Is it true, honestly
When it's all a part of me?
A couple years of waiting rooms
Finding God, and lose Him too
Wanna scream, but what's the use?"

The two men began to quietly hum as she sang the first few lines, the vibrations of their voices snagging against the cold air as the sketchy wizards and witches of Knockturn ally walked along the roads, occasionally looking at the strange group. An Auror, a one-legged man and a fool with a missing eye with their musical talents on the side of the streets. Maceir strummed the guitar gently and smiles as she sang.

"Lyin' awake, and I stare at the doorI just can't take it no more-They told me it's useless, there's no hope in storeBut somehow I just want you more"

She stuck the cords with conviction this time, her words flowing around the street with the rebounds of a bass that wasn't there

"I want you moooooo- oooh oh ohreSomehow, I just want you moreI want you moreSomehow, I just want you moooooo- oooh oh ohre"

The two men vocalized along with her, their instruments vibrating with the melody as if the humming, the vocals, and the song was coming full from the instrumentals. Maceir pressed the guitar to her stomach and arched her neck and shoulders out before her, pressing her right shoulder forward so that her body was forced to follow in an animated twirl into the street

"Wooden floors and little feetA flower bud in concreteFeelin' so incompleteWonder will we ever meet?And would you know it right awayHow hard I tried to see your face?A little screen, a photograph, mine to take"

Her musical allies beamed at their fellow music-filled being. Her eyes shut as she poured the soul of another being into the calm and quiet night. A sad, melancholic tune that vibrated with something that was obviously longing.

"I sit and I stare at your clothes in the drawerI cry and my knuckles get sore'Cause I still believe it won't be like beforeAnd now, somehow, I just want you more"

The bleeding hand for a rather unfortunate even beforehand that caused her hand to be not handy. There was no pain, no insult to injury. No harm in the hand that was obviously damaged. It would hurt late on in the evening

"I want you mooo- ooooo- oooh oh ohreSomehow, I just want you moreI want you morooooo- oooh oh oheSomehow, I just want you more"

Her chest took in the cold night air and her nose burned from the freezing temperatures. The internal walls of her nose would have cracked from the freeze but the state of mind, state of the body, state of being was too distracted to even care anymore

"And when you decide it's your time to arriveI've loved you for all of my lifeAnd nothing could stop me from giving a tryI've loved you for all of my life"

The two men, along with the singing woman, were enveloped in a taste of a song that they had never heard before. The tunes of this melancholic symphony were contagious. Little did the group know in the Cauldron shop behind them a fellow Bard was struggling to keep his satin voice calm against the winds and melody outside. It was like the pack cry of the wolves that made the magic kin want to sing.

"Loved you moooooo- oooh oh ohreSomehow, I still love you moreLove you moooooo- oooh oh ohreSomehow, I still love you more"

The howling melody slowly came to a close as Head and Tail calmly and the echoing 'Loved you more' and 'Somehow, I still love you more's howled along with the humming and cotton silk voice of the woman in the lead. When the music receded like the tides in her ears, Maceir realized that she stood in like a rock in the center of a flood of bodies that moved out of her way with agitated looks and questioning glances. She laughed to herself and made her way back to her two-man group, who had magically cased their instruments with magic.

"Amazing job fellas..."

"Yah ain't half bad yer self Micky"

"See you two next week?"

"Sounds like a plot Cheesy."

And with that the three bards dispersed like the melody they had spun like a spider it's web, tangling those from the shadows.

. . .

In the dark abandoned shop a figure pressed against the door, a hand placed firmly against their mouth, and a bead of sweat rolling down their face. A fellow Bardic was struggling to keep its satin voice calm against the winds and melody outside. It was like the pack cry of the wolves that made the magic kin want to sing

Their body shook with the urge to vocalize with their fellows, training, suck intense training and forcing and magic made it harder for this voice to flow. Self spells.

Tiny, the quietest howls of music forced their way from the throat of this being, raspy and forced down and out by spells that SHOULD NEVER have been used on any musical creature. Their voice was beautiful when willing to be

Love you moooo ooo oh oh oh ore...

They forced their body to stop as the voices outside began to cease their musical pondering. Where had the melody formed from?! They surely not. But possibly? No, they had studied Maceir enough to know this was her form of melody

"Amazing job fellas..."

"Yah ain't half bad yer self Micky"

"See you two next week?"

"Sounds like a plot Cheesy."

God Damn it... Too late...