Piano in the Dark
By Little Whinger
* This story takes place eight months prior to my earlier story, "Empty Orchestra", and fifteen months prior to my first story, "Tied Up, With A Bow". *
Harry awoke in the middle of the night to the sounds of a storm. Thunder, wind and rain were hammering the outside of the house, rattling the windows of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
As his head began to clear, he picked up his wand and wordlessly cast 'Lumos'. In the glow from the wand, along with occasional flashes of lightning from outside, he took in the rumpled bed and clothes strewn about the room, and a small smile crept across his lips as pieces of the evening he'd spent with Draco began to fall into place.
He and Draco had gone out for dinner and drinks after work, and one thing had led to another. They'd been seeing each other, casually, for a couple of weeks, but tonight had been their first time in bed together.
And it had been terrific, as far as Harry was concerned.
But where had Draco gone? His clothes were still there, lying all around the room where they'd been flung a few hours before.
Then Harry noticed something else: through the din of the storm, he could hear distant music. Listening closer, he realized that someone was playing a piano...his piano.
Slipping out of bed in the dark, his foot found something small, hard and sharp on the floor.
"Ow! Bugger!" he grumbled, hopping on his other foot. Looking down, he spotted a cufflink lying on the floor by the bed. Bending down and picking up the cufflink, he rolled his eyes and set it on the bedside table.
Checking the floor to make sure there wasn't anything else he might step on, he made his way to the bedroom door and stepped into the hall. Dousing the wand light, he tiptoed down the stairs to the first floor, following the notes as they drifted through the house, accompanied by the sounds of the storm.
Turning the corner into the living room, he saw Draco sitting at the enormous Broadwood grand piano, his back to Harry and the rest of the room. His smooth, pale skin and shoulder-length platinum blond hair seemed to give off an almost angelic aura when the lightning flashed at the windows. But the resulting thunder made him shudder, his fingers faltering, momentarily, as they stroked the keys.
The somber tune, something classical that Harry recognized, but couldn't name, sounded even more eerie on the out-of-tune piano, but Draco didn't seem to mind. His long, slender fingers continued to caress the ivory and ebony keys, pulling the notes out of the ancient instrument.
Stepping silently into the room, Harry settled onto the sofa, and just listened. Eventually, the song came to an end. Draco sighed, and leaned on the piano, and Harry thought he heard a sniffle. Another particularly loud thunderclap made Draco start and look out the window, and Harry was certain he heard another sniffle as Draco moaned, softly, and laid his head back down on his arm, resting on the lid of the piano.
"I didn't know you played," Harry finally said, softly. Draco inhaled sharply, turning around quickly.
"Oh, Merlin!" Draco muttered, his hand on his chest, as Harry wordlessly cast 'Lumos'. "Dammit...you scared the life out of me, Harry!"
"Sorry," Harry apologized, sincerely. Rising from the sofa and walking to the piano, he hitched a bare butt cheek onto the piano bench, next to Draco. "You okay?" he asked, tentatively. Draco turned his head to look at him, and Harry could see tear tracks on his face.
"Yeah," Draco managed, softly. After a few seconds, he cleared his throat and said in a more harsh, reproachful tone, "I'm twenty-six years old, and thunderstorms still reduce me to a blubbering idiot!" Harry frowned and put his left arm around Draco's waist. "Playing sometimes helps," Draco added, his voice soft again.
"You're not a 'blubbering idiot'," Harry said, and placed a kiss on Draco's shoulder. "You're very good," he murmured, resting his chin on Draco's shoulder.
"Thank you," Draco whispered. "I'm sorry if I woke you." Harry shook his head.
"No, it was the storm that woke me," he said. "I'm sorry the piano's a bit out." He poked at a few keys. "The last time I had it tuned was for a party last Christmas, and this old house is full of drafts, despite my best efforts to fix them."
"It's okay," Draco said, shrugging slightly, then jumped as another roll of thunder shook the air. Harry tightened his grip around Draco, comfortingly, and in return, Draco smiled, slightly, and murmured, "Thanks." Harry smiled and nodded.
"Play something else?" Harry suggested. Draco looked at him for a moment, the corner of his mouth quirking up, slightly, as he nodded.
Draco placed his fingers on the keys, and started playing, a faster classical piece that Harry didn't recognize. After a minute, or so, in the middle of a fast chromatic run, Draco hit a wrong note. He stopped, started again and tried the run, again hitting the wrong note.
"Dammit!" he muttered, slamming the keys with his fists and heaving a deep sigh. After a few moments of silence, he whispered, "I guess I'm a little 'out', myself." Harry put his right hand on Draco's shoulder and squeezed it, gently.
"It's okay," he said, quietly. "I'm still very impressed." Draco turned toward him, and Harry smiled, warmly. Hesitating only a moment, Draco smiled back at Harry, and leaned down and placed a small, chaste kiss on his lips.
"Thank you," he said. Harry nodded.
"Hermione plays, too, y'know?" he said. "You and she are the only people who've played it since I've lived here." Draco raised an eyebrow. "It belonged to the Blacks." Draco huffed a sort of sardonic chuckle.
"I wonder who among that lot actually played the thing," he muttered.
"No clue," Harry replied. They sat there, silent for a minute, and Harry noticed that, while it was still raining pretty heavily, the lightning wasn't as intense, and the thunder sounded more distant. "The storm's easing off...why don't you come back to bed?" he suggested, shivering a bit as he sat there, naked. Draco, wearing boxers, chuckled softly.
"You just want to shag again," he joked.
"No...well, yes...but it's just I'm cold, and I'm betting you are too," Harry replied, an embarrassed smirk playing on his lips.
"Yeah, I suppose I am," Draco said, an involuntary shiver punctuating his agreement. Harry stood and offered him a hand. Smiling a bit wistfully, Draco took Harry's hand, and followed him up to the bedroom. "Merlin...what a mess!" Draco muttered, seeing the clothes tossed about the room.
"Don't worry about that, right now...just come to bed," Harry insisted, pulling him over to the large four-poster. Draco didn't put up much resistance, and soon they were both nestled beneath the covers.
After a minute or two of silence, Harry murmured, "I'll have it tuned. You can come play it, anytime."
"I'd like that," Draco said a few moments later. "Thank you, Harry."
Finite.
Author's Note:
So, another small chapter in my mini-series. This story isn't as comical as my previous works, but I'd wanted to write something featuring Draco playing piano, and it took me a while to think of a good device to hang that on. This also gave me a chance to explore Draco's vulnerable side, as well as his coping mechanism.