A BIG thank you to my Beta, Bad Mum, who helped me more than she suspects.
This fic was written for two challenges, the details are at the bottom of the page.
Talent
When she opened the heavy double doors of the concert hall, not a sound could be heard but the faint humming of the big spotlight projector, already lit up toward the center of the stage. She let the quietness of the hall get to her and took a deep breath and released it before starting walking down the central aisle toward the first row.
Walking silently, letting her right hand feel the burgundy velour of the seats, she was lost in memories:
The day she got her first violin, at the tender age of four, then her child-sized cello a few years later, so she could play with her Dad, and the first time they played together at a family gathering...
When she turned nine, she knew she wanted to have a musical. She was already attending classes with the best cello teachers in England. Every teacher she had was mesmerised by how she could reach into herself and express the music. When she turned eleven years-old, as a belated birthday gift, she got to meet her idol, Yo-Yo Ma during the Christmas holidays. That day would stay engraved in her mind as one of her most cherished memories. Through a lot of contacts and PR, her parents and current cello teacher had managed to enable Hermione to attend a rehearsal of the cellist.
"You should see what she can do, she literally does magic on that cello! Close your eyes and you will never believe that she's been playing the cello for only four years, on a kiddie sized cello... She sounds like... magic. I can't describe it". She had blushed at her teacher's praises at the time.
She kept walking, trailing, smiling, and still dreaming about her afternoon with Yo-Yo Ma: she had been thrilled to meet him, and even more surprised to get to play for him, as she did not expect that. The master's reaction was quite different from what she and her parents had expected. He looked shaken.
"Mr Granger, Mrs Granger, your daughter has a special talent, not unheard of, but, quite unexpected. I would like to meet her again soon. Would it be possible for you to come back in a few days, let's say two weeks? I need to talk to somebody about young Hermione..."
Little did they know that while they were spending a few more days of their summer under the warm sun of France, their Christmas, Boxing Day, and even the New Year with their extended family, Yo-Yo Ma was sending owls and waiting for firecalls. The musician had grown up knowing all about magic, himself being a Squib in a magical family. While most of his family received their education at Nanjing Magical Institute in China, they had moved from Paris to the United States when he was five years old, and his sister attended the Salem academy, while he attended the most prestigious music schools. And he developed a particular talent, seeing the tendrils of raw power that witches and wizards showed when they had outbursts or strong emotions.
What he had seen in young Hermione Granger had been impressive, even for someone used to seeing auras of magic randomly. He was ready to bet she would be able to make her basic cello sounds like his own Stradivarius should she put her mind to it. Total control over what she wanted people to feel about the music. As if she were unknowingly using a musical version of the Imperius Curse. Did she even know she was a witch?
When the master cellist had received all the answers to his questions, he had contacted the Grangers and scheduled a meeting with the family in their own house in England, with a few people who had been interested in Hermione's talent.
The meeting itself was a bit awkward, according to her memories : The old and stiff lady in dark velour robes, not unlike the velour of the seats she had touched a few moments ago, Yo-Yo Ma's parents, himself and her family. Why would a thirty-five year old man need his parents to be present in a meeting about her? What was said during that afternoon was a whirlwind of information, discoveries, explanations and emotions. By the end of the afternoon, she was getting a bit bored, and could not fight her need to take charge:
"Master Ma, Professor McGonagall, I promise I won't tell a soul about what was said today, that I am a witch and that my musical abilities are augmented due to that. Nobody will know who I study with, and where I will go to school next year. Cross my heart and hope to die."
The deputy headmistress looked like she did not know what to say, while the cellist was laughing at her innocence, and her parents simply looked embarrassed. Their Hermione, reacting like that was totally... her.
After the Professor had left, some time was spent scheduling a specific magical music lesson plan with the cellist and his father, so she could get more control over her intents when playing. Ma Senior had said something along the lines of: "Those with the gift of music never lose it once they acquire it. You already have the raw talent, a bit of polishing and focus will work wonders and, if you are still up to it, summer and holiday seminars would be perfect for that. Now is the ideal time to harness it while you are young. After all, it wouldn't do good to be noticed my some Ministry's wizard and be Obliviated, all this effort and work to go back to square one".
She had now walked up the set of stairs on the side of the stage. Her heartbeat and her breathing were the only things she was feeling when she sat on the stage, her hand feeling the old varnish on the wooden slats. She felt connected to the hall, closed her eyes and let the images come:
How her last year at home had flown by between school, special music lessons, faking being normal, then her arrival to Hogwarts, twisting the truth on how she's been told about magic, never telling her friends about of gift for magimusic, not telling what she would do during the summer when she'd go on family vacations. The countless number of times they had risked their lives with Harry and his quests. The times where they laughed, where they cried. The war, obliviating her parents, being tortured, seeing death.
To gain an ultimate control on her inner music, she had to let go of everything. Tears were starting to build in her left eye, then her right. She let them flow, along with more recent images:
Getting her parents back (and their memories too), enrolling into the most exhausting Magimusical Conservatory and spending almost all her time there for nearly two years, Moving out into a flat with her new roommate, keeping in touch with her friends for a once a month lunch, the news that Ronald died, being hit by a car, learning to play the double-bass so she could play with the Jazz (jazz) band...
She almost didn't hear the timid footsteps that stopped a few feet to her right, but the thump on the floor had her curious enough to open her eyes.
Her roomie and friend Luna Lovegood, was here, lying by her side, listening to their breathing.
"I've got what you wanted but didn't know you'd need"
"Thank you Luna."
She absolutely had no idea what Luna was talking about, but "knowing" certain things was Luna's ability, and she had grown to accept it without questioning it. Hermione got up, grabbed the package her friend had left for her, gave Luna a wink and a hug, and went to do her warm-ups and change into appropriate clothing.
Not much later, the concert hall started filling up. In one of the boxes were her parents and Master Yo-Yo Ma and his family.
Backstage, Hermione's bossy voice could be heard, as it was each time she was feeling a bit insecure. Picking up her cello, she looked at her right ankle, where her new butterbeer corks ankle bracelet was located, then took a deep breath and said:
"This one is for you, Ron, my first solo concert!"
This fic was part of 2 Challenges HPFC
The English Idiom Challenge, where my 2 prompts were : Cross my heart and hope to die, and Back to square one
The First time Challenge, with Hermione and First Concert.
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