The Hogwarts Quartet
Severus Snape: Double Bass Player Extraordinaire
Minerva McGonagall: Master of the Cello
Albus Dumbledore: Virtuosic Violinist
After Professor Kettleburn retires to enjoy the use of his remaining limbs, the Hogwarts Quartet has lost their viola player. Famous only in music circles, both muggle and wizarding, and virtually unknown at Hogwarts, the quartet is forced to search for someone who plays the viola to their exacting standards. Unfortunately for them, this person has to be from Hogwarts, for both convenience and for the name of their quartet to remain. But the other teachers cannot play music to save their lives. Hagrid's flute playing is on the basic side, and is not a string instrument anyway, and although Flitwick can dance a mean jig, that unfortunately does not translate to musical ability. This could mean the end of their time as a quartet, or they need to find a student who is pretty damn good with their viola.
Enter Harry Potter. When he was seven, an old lady moved into a house a few doors down from the Dursleys. The Dursleys were quick to shun her and her "horrible screeching sounds". But Harry- well he always had an appreciation for music. In return for helping her around the house, Harry managed to get her to teach him to play her instrument of choice: the viola. Harry ended up spending most of his time over there, for the dual reasons of the music to learn and escaping from the Dursleys. When he was invited to Hogwarts, he was deeply sad to leave his only friend behind as well as the music he had loved. In the summers, he returned to her and the viola, only to discover, the day after his return from his second year, that she had passed away. Her son, cleaning up the house, said that she had left Harry her viola.
Before Harry jumped on the Knight bus, he made a split-second decision. He would take his viola to Hogwarts this year. He didn't know if he would play it, for he was still mourning the loss of his vibrant teacher, but he would take it, to remember her, and to keep it safe.
Ergo, when Minerva McGonagall ushered him and Hermione into her office after the incident with dementors on the train, she had the shock of her life. A viola player had walked straight into their lives. Now she only had to convince the others. Albus would easily acquiesce. But Severus- would he ever agree to play with the Boy-Who-Lived?
Minerva McGonagall was surprised, to say the least. The last thing that she had expected to see Harry Potter holding when he stepped out of the thestral-drawn carriage was a viola case. He had an owl, didn't he? But when he swung around to talk to Ronald Weasley, she could see his beautiful snowy's cage clutched in his other hand.
Minerva straightened her shoulders as swarms of children swamped her in their rush to enter the castle. She would not get distracted by the possibilities- she had other duties to do first. There was also the possibility that Harry was only at a basic level… No. She had other things to do.
"Mr Potter, if you could come with me. Oh, and you, Miss Granger. No, Mr Weasley, not you. You may proceed into the Great Hall."
She watched as the crestfallen youngest Weasley boy headed inside, and then turned sharply to head to her office, the two children at her heels. Now, Poppy was already inside, and after that fiasco (she held no doubts that Harry would not be happy to be examined by her overeager friend), there was only Miss Granger's timetabling issue to deal with. Hopefully the girl would not overtire herself in her enthusiasm. At least she was assured of her responsibility.
As she opened the office door and let the pair trail within before her, she snuck another look at the case. It was definitely for a viola, being just too big for a violin. She hugged herself in glee, whilst remaining her trademark stern persona on the outside.
Walking them down to the Great Hall for the feast, her excitement started to dwindle a little. Minerva knew that she was counting her eggs before they had hatched. She had no idea what sort of player the boy was, whether he'd had any training, or if his technique was miserable or not. Would he fit with the other players' styles? Albus had his own quirk, which permeated every piece he played, while she herself was quite adaptable, if she did say so herself. And what about Severus? He… Oh. Severus. That silly man still held a grudge against Harry for all that his father had done. Severus would not be happy to welcome the son of his childhood rival into their quartet. And Minerva could understand that, a little. What James Potter and his friends had done to poor Severus was quite despicable, actually. But to hold that grudge over to the child that had never known his parents?
She would see if he was any good, tomorrow, and then she would deal with Severus if it came to that. They needed a viola player, and Severus could not deny that. Kettleburn's retirement, although not unexpected, had left the remaining trio of the quartet reeling. They were the Hogwarts Quartet, and thus, they had to have members that were part of the school. The biannual classical wizarding music festival was occurring in the coming May of 1994, and they needed a player to participate.
Minerva was proud of all that they had achieved together. While not being known by the general public or to any of their students who did not have a musical background, the Hogwarts Quartet was quite well-known in both muggle and wizarding music circles. Severus had been the one to accomplish that feat, as neither Minerva nor Albus had fully understood how much larger the scope of the muggle music world was.
Dragging her thoughts back, Minerva noticed that they were at the doors to the Great Hall, and the muffled clink of china and cutlery, as well as the endless student chatter, permeated through the tick doors. As Miss Granger entered, she placed her hand on Harry's arm, stopping him from following her.
He looked up at her, with a bewildered expression on his face. "Professor, I really am fine. The chocolate was all I needed, really, and we're going to miss the feast if we're any later…"
He trailed away, looking down at his scuffed sneakers.
Minerva simply smiled. Just a small smile, but it was enough to get his wandering eyes fixed firmly on her face.
"Mr Potter- Harry- I did not stop you to discuss the detrimental effect that dementors have on you. I was wondering, actually, if sometime tomorrow you could visit me in my office with your instrument."
He gaped at her for a few moments, then, coming back to himself with an abrupt suddenness, closed his mouth. She watched him think for a few seconds, and then he nodded. "Yes, Professor, I'll be there."
He walked inside and over to his friends, who were chatting together, and throwing occasional glances at the Slytherin table, where that immature Draco Malfoy was posturing and pretending to faint every so often.
Minerva followed him inside, hugging her secret to her chest, and sat at the staff table. She didn't even care overly much when as soon as she lifted her fork, the dessert selections appeared. Severus looked at her askance when she ate her chocolate mousse without a word of complaint, as she had never been one to indulge in sweets. It was nice to throw him off balance every now and again. He noticed too much. This would be fun.
Harry was confused. He was also very, very tired. Sitting next to Ron and Hermione, he let their endless arguing about Scabbers and Crookshanks carry him through the feast without saying a word. Why had McGonagall wanted to see him with his instrument? She had looked as stern as usual, but she had been smiling- smiling at him when she mentioned it. He felt at the handle protectively with his left hand, whilst drawing absent-minded patterns on his plate with the fork in his right.
It had felt strange enough bringing the viola to Hogwarts. He didn't even know if there was a music room there. He had never brought it before, as it had never been his before. But now that it was, he knew he could not possibly leave it at the mercy of the Dursleys. Dudley would probably use it as a substitute cricket bat. So he had brought it to Hogwarts.
He didn't even know if he would be able to play it anymore. The memories might overwhelm him. It had been nice, though, to have a part of her to keep with him. It made it seem as if all her lessons, her help, hadn't been a dream after all. Playing it would hurt too much, though. He hadn't played it since summer before second year.
At the beginning of the summer, the day after he had returned to the Dursleys', he had rushed over to her house only to find that she was no longer there. Her son had been there, though, and he was the one that broke the news to Harry. His teacher, his only comfort in his life before Hogwarts, was gone. She had died of a heart attack and had left Harry her viola.
Alexis Winters had lived alone in retirement. She had been a viola teacher until then. The day she had moved into Privet Drive, a few doors down from number four, the Dursleys had been eager to meet her and cultivate her acquaintance. That was until they discovered her love of "infernal screechings" in the form of her viola.
Harry had listened, seven years old, and known that he had found something to love. Something to work hard at. He had introduced himself, a small skinny boy with glasses that hung askew on his face. Alexis had been taken aback at first, but gradually they created a working relationship. Harry paid for his lessons by helping Alexis with her various chores, and Alexis found that she enjoyed teaching a student once again. They had been very good friends after a few years.
In actual fact, she was his only friend before he went to Hogwarts.
Harry rested his chin on his hand and closed his eyes for a few moments, trying to block out the exceedingly loud noise. He was getting a headache.
Alexis had left him her viola. It was an old instrument, but well taken care of. Her son, after much pleading, had agreed to keep it in her house until the end of summer, but refused after that. Harry had told him that they had a very rambunctious pet, and it would be in danger all the time from it. It was partially the truth, after all. Dudley was hardly more than an animal. The man had agreed, but he was selling the house after a month anyway, so it couldn't stay. Harry, after fleeing from number four after the incident with Marge, had remembered to collect it in a split-second of clarity.
Now McGonagall was interested. Harry had agreed to meet her, even though he didn't really want to. He just knew that you didn't say no to an adult like that. He supposed he should wonder why she was so interested, but found he couldn't be bothered to think about it.
He missed Alexis. She was so vibrant and enthusiastic and then she wasn't there anymore. He hadn't even been able to say goodbye.
No. He couldn't cry. He wouldn't.
"Harry? Are you alright?"
It was Hermione. Trust her to notice something like that. Gathering his energy, he smiled at her.
"I'm fine. Just tired, really."
She looked at him concernedly. "Are you sure? Malfoy's such a prat, I know."
Malfoy? Oh, he was pretending to faint over and over again. Harry hadn't actually noticed, he was that out of it. It didn't seem to matter. Harry already knew he was weak.
His headache throbbed.
"Yeah, he's annoying. But I can deal. I just want to go to bed, you know."
As Dumbledore dismissed them, he hugged the case to his chest, standing still in the midst of all the motion. He watched as Ron and Hermione left, arguing once more, then walked after them in the wake that all the students had left.
He would slide the viola case under his bed carefully, then go to sleep.
The next morning, Harry felt almost sick when he realised what he had agreed to. He knew that he wouldn't have done it if he wasn't tired, if he had been in his right mind. He should have evaded her, slipped away without committing to anything.
If she wanted him to take his instrument, she might want to hear him play. And he couldn't, not yet. It was still too close to her.
Harry had awoken early, the routine of summer with the Dursleys still ingrained into him. Sitting up in his bed, with the curtains drawn back, he knew that he couldn't face talking with any of the others. They would be all energetic, once they had woken up fully from their usual morning sleep-ins. Harry felt extremely lethargic, yet not at all sleepy.
He slipped out of bed, and once dressed, he walked down to breakfast alone.
The Great Hall was empty. The creaking of the large door as he opened it had startled him, disturbing the silence of the morning. Harry nearly turned back then, to go to his dormitory and wait for the others, irrationally spooked, but he overcame that impulse and went to sit down at the empty Gryffindor table.
He propped his head in his hands and waited moodily, examining the room. The ceiling was beautiful as usual, and watching the sky lighten helped keep his mind off Alexis.
With a pop, a single basketful of toast appeared at his elbow, along with a plate, a butter knife and some raspberry jam. Harry wondered how that had happened, then shrugged his question away as he picked up a slice. Magic, of course. It was Hogwarts, after all.
A while later, he noticed that another person had wondered into the room. It was another student, a second-year blond Ravenclaw, who was sitting on the floor before the dais, seemingly conversing quietly with the air around her. Harry shrugged, then took another bite of his toast. He knew that he had plenty of time before the rest of the school arrived. Most didn't get out of bed till quite late.
The next people to arrive in the Hall were teachers. Harry had nearly finished with his toast when Snape walked in. He ignored Harry except for an almost distracted glare as he moved to his spot on the staff table, his nose firmly in a book. Harry rushed to finish after that, as even a distracted Snape was not good, especially for a Harry Potter. He would be better alone outside. Of course, he knew he couldn't avoid his friends forever, as they would only become more tenacious, especially Hermione, but he just wanted to be alone.
Just as he was rising to leave, McGonagall and Professor Vector walked in, side by side. Vector walked straight to the staff table, but McGonagall headed for him. Harry heaved an inward sigh.
"Mr Potter, here is your timetable. I believe that after afternoon classes will be fine for you?"
She barely waited for his assenting nod.
"Good. I will see you in my office then."
As Harry left the Great Hall to retreat to the solitude of the lake, he couldn't help but wonder why she was so enthusiastic.