She let the sharp melodic notes ring through the space around her. The minor harmonies sung slow and solemn behind the sharp highs of the melody. She twisted them, her hands pulling and pushing the sounds, making them bounce across the wooden floor. Her eyes glowed with the scenes in her mind's eye, and a tear fell onto the black and white keys before her. The song took a swift change in key and the melody quickened its pace, leaping through the spaces only she could see, turning and tumbling as she slid her hand quickly down the grand instrument. Soon, her fingers slowed, the melody sweetened.

Her long brown hair was swaying as she moved her head, eyes closed, feeling the last chords wrap around her beating heart.

She stood up, and looked around at the empty hall. The imposing windows loomed above her and the lone Grand Piano. The sun flickered through, reaching through the clouds, hitting her at random intervals as she stood, staring, empty. Her rage wholly disappeared, her sadness gone, her emotions forgotten, she was empty. Terror, sadness, grief, loss, anger, regret, worry, pain. Everything gone. Happiness had been a foreign concept for a long time, and it certainly didn't arrive then. It was simply empty. Gone. Nothing. Nothing entered her mind and nothing left it. Everything was still.

The hall creaked as the afternoon breeze built into a wind. Yet she stood, staring. The not-quite-silence echoed around the hall, filling her ears with muted hisses and silent whispers. Her head soon began to sway, side to side, her hair following, her eyes closed once more and she felt her body move to the silent melodies of the hall. She felt it fill her, her heart brimming with emotion once more, the melodies yelling in her head, telling her how to step and sway. She moved around the hall, letting the silent music push her and pull her over the wooden floorboards.

From outside, it might've looked like a delicate and deliberate dance, however upon closer inspection, there was no one sitting at the piano. Fortunately for her, only one person looked through the glass windows of the hall. They peered from under one of the trees, holding their coat tight around them, protecting themselves from the chilling Autumn evening. This man stared, transfixed at the enigmatic women, swaying across the silent floor. The sky suddenly roared, and rain bucketed down, enveloped the already cold man, soaking the coat, his only means of protection. He made a decision, and raced towards the entrance of the hall, eager to find out who this woman was.

She heard the rain start to hammer the roof, and heard as the thunder rumbled across the city. She slowed her movements, letting the rain and the thunder envelope her senses, the sweet smell of the rain wafted through the cold building, and she turned around as a gust of wind blew her hair into her face.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt" The man said, gazing at her from across the hall.

She hugged her body tightly, her movements frozen by the entrance of the man. He was far enough away from her so that she couldn't quite see the colour of his eyes, or the shape of his lips but despite this, she knew that it couldn't be anyone else.

"Hello, Malfoy" Hermione croaked.

The man looked startled at her, his eyes widening with shock, before he stepped forwards to take in the woman once again. He recognised now, the brown, but distinctly less bushy hair, her small stature and her much less radiant eyes.

"Granger?" Draco asked, stepping in once more to take in the woman, who was significantly different to how he remembered. The woman (no, girl) he remembered was strong, fearless, demanding, this woman before him was barely holding herself up, her eyes sunken and her hair lacking in the warmth that used to reside in it. "What happened to you?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and strode towards the piano, reaching down to collect her music sheets, which had blown over when Malfoy had entered.

"Nothing that concerns you." She replied scathingly, her eyes only just narrowing enough to somewhat resemble the girl he once knew.

"On the contrary, I am concerned." Malfoy said, stepping forward once more to help with the scattered music.

Hermione scoffed and took the music from his hands, "I find that hard to believe."

Draco didn't respond, he only looked at the woman who stood in front of him, remembering all the many things he had done and said. All the things that made her hate him in the first place. Memories that he had relived so many times, each time begging his young self to stop, to stop talking, to stop hurting, to just stop. Each morning he woke up with a resolve to fix his mistakes, each night he went to bed utterly disappointed in himself. For once, he wanted to do something that he wouldn't have to regret. Something that he wouldn't have to scream at, at night, in those terrible nightmares. Something he could be pleased with.

"Will you have a drink with me, Hermione?" Draco asked. Hermione looked up, at Draco, at his sincere face and her glare softened. Her eyes searched, and found, something trustworthy in the face of the boy (no, man) who had once been her schoolyard nemesis.

She nodded.

As the echoes of their footsteps reverberated through the hall, a slow, quiet melody followed them, softly humming the tunes of a happier place.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J. K. Rowling

Thanks for reading!

-Amy