Hazel was glad that Brenna had decided against learning to play a reeded instrument, as she could hardly practice something like the clarinet in the common room with such a sticky, spitty thing needing to be replaced as often as she suspected it might be. Siegfried's Horn Call was just to her liking that evening, for all she couldn't call her mood a victorious one. Complacent, perhaps.
Her eyes hardly looked at the music, but neither did she stare blankly into the corner of the Hufflepuff common room - it had the very best acoustics - where she always practiced. Hazel checked now and again over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't disturbing anyone studying, and closed her eyes when she wasn't doing that as though Wagner could transport her out of the castle alltogether.