Disclaimer: We didn't come up with anything that J.K. Rowling did in her Harry Potter series. We also didn't come up with anything that Jane Campion did in her "The Piano" script. Wow, we're such ripper-offers. But we make no money out of it, and only did it to bring joy to readers. Well, that and reviews.

Lessons

Chapter One - In Which There Is a Stormy Wedding

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The voice I use is not my speaking voice, but my heart's voice. I have not spoken since my sixth year. Few know why, and he who cursed me with it has died. If I could turn back, I don't know if I would; silence is an uncanny addiction. The war will be over soon, but by then, it will be too late to reclaim my freedom. I won't be eighteen for another month, and tonight, I will enter a marriage with the enemy. Soon my daughter and I shall join him at our new home. My muteness does not bother my fiancée: he didn't want me for my words.

He will need patience for I believe silence affects everything in the end. The strange thing is I don't think myself silent, because of my piano. I pour all of me into the music, and it resonates my thoughts, my memories, my soul. If you could understand the notes, then you would know my everything.

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She was wearing a plain black dress when she stepped off the ship. The tight-corset held her back straight as she stepped down the plank and onto shore. A young girl, donning a pale yellow skirt and white sweater, clutched her hand tightly. The beach was windy, welcoming mother and daughter with thick clouds that blanketed the New Zealand sky.

Sailors busily unloaded the ship, piling wooden trunks upon the cool, damp sand. She watched them carefully, waiting for the one item that mattered most.

"Mama," the small girl tugged at her hand. "Mama, he's here."

She looked up to where her daughter pointed. Her future husband was slowly making his way down the beach, the wind whipping his dark dress robes. He looked thinner, older than he did all those years ago. His face was relaxed unlike the cruel, determined mask he wore during quidditch games at Hogwarts. She watched as he neared. With each step, her heart clenched tighter, reminding her of her sealed fate. She would soon be Mrs. Marcus Flint.

"Good afternoon, Virginia." His voice was deep and dark, like the imminent storm that brewed in the sky. She heard him clearly despite the thunderous waves crashing on the sand.

She nodded to his greeting, her sweet face expressionless like a stone Aphrodite. His eyes darkened at her indifference, but he said nothing of it.

"You should call her Ginny," the young girl at her side piped up loudly. He looked down at her with cold eyes. She continued undaunted. "Really, everyone does. Except me."

He cracked a small smile. "And what do you call her?"

"Mama, mum, mother...what should I call you?"

"You may call me Papa, if you wish," he replied with a glance at Ginny. She had lost focus in the conversation and her eyes were on the workers as they carefully carried a gigantic, piano-shaped crate off the ship. His brow furrowed as he noticed her dark mourning garments. He had instructed her to wear her wedding dress off the ship, and she arrived in black, like a sacrificial offering. He turned back to the girl, deciding that he would deal with Ginny later, when she became his wife. "And what shall I call you?"

"Lissy," she said. "It's short for Elizabeth."

"Well, Lissy. Why don't you, your mother, and I go home?"

The seamen had already moved their trunks up the path toward Flint Manor. Only the piano was left, looking large and out of place on the beach. The tide was growing higher, lunging closer and closer to her beloved instrument.

"Come on, Mama!"

Ginny's fingers danced deftly in response to her daughter's plea. Marcus watched, fascinated with her silent language.

"She says she won't go unless the piano comes with her," Lissy translated.

The wind howled harder and thick raindrops began to fall. Ginny let go of her daughter's hand and ran to one of the men. She gestured for him to move her piano, her hands waving and cutting through the thick air. He shook his head gruffly, bowed his head, and returned to the ship. Waves were crashing against the piano crate now. She signed frantically to her daughter.

"She says to move her piano," Lissy shouted, her small voice easily tangled in the wind.

"Not today. It's raining too hard."

Strands of Ginny's flaming red hair had fallen loose of her tight bun and they blew wildly in the wind. She pulled out her wand and pointed desperately at the piano. "Wingardium Leviosa," she shouted, but her voice cowered at the back of her throat, held back by the imposed silence.

Marcus and Lissy watched her, the latter with helplessness, and the former with a smirk. It was apparent that she could not cast spells without her voice. She ran to him, stumbling in the sand. She thrust her wand into his hands and signed to her daughter.

"She tells you to cast a spell to bring it ashore!" Lissy pleaded. "She says please! She says the piano is her life. Without it she can't be happy!"

He threw her wand down angrily. "The piano will be carried tomorrow!" He grabbed Ginny's arms tightly and forced her face close to his. "Listen carefully. I am your life now, understand? You will be my wife and you will abide by my rules!" His harsh words assaulted her with the rain that poured down upon them. Ginny pushed him away with clenched fists and grabbed Lissy's hand. Glancing back at her piano once more, she picked up her wand and marched up the path toward Flint manor. All the sailors were back on the ship, sailing away quickly in the jagged waters. Ginny wished she could be one of them.

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Her wedding night was nothing like she had expected. After hurriedly signing a few documents and a marriage license, they were declared man and wife and she was ushered in to his bedroom. It was an amalgam of ostentatious furniture, grim portraits and items that flashed luxury. Half the room was taken up was with a giant four-poster bed that she tried her best to ignore. With nothing to occupy herself with she stared at the clock, counting the seconds. By the time she had lost count several times over, her brown eyes fixed stonily upon the large wooden door that would soon admit her husband.

A low voice broke her stare, "I see you've been waiting for me."

She turned and found Marcus leaned casually against the fireplace.

"We have an internal Floo network," he said in way of explanation, crossing the room to her side. He stood behind her and caressed her shoulder, slipping under the dark material. Ginny continued to sit stiffly until his hand started to run lower. She cringed away and brushed away his touch with her pale, perfect fingers.

He growled under his breath. "We're married now and it's time for you to fulfill your duty as a wife."

Ginny simply shook her head, backing away towards the door. Marcus stared at her, the hostility between them straining the air. He knocked the chair in front of him to the floor and began advancing upon his nervous wife. Shrinking away, her back hit the wall as his fist rose in the air. It neared her face but the blow never hit.

"I won't strike you on our wedding night, honey," he smirked. "But till I get what I want from you, your adored piano will remain on the beach."

He violently yanked open the door to the right of her, and motioned her out politely. "Sweet dreams, my dear."

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Since Marcus didn't seem concerned with her day's activities, the next morning Ginny decided to get out of the foreboding house and out to her beloved treasure. With Lissy happily skipping along the craggy way to the beach, she managed a small smile. Perhaps life would not be as awful as she thought. If Marcus left her alone during the day, she really only had to give in to his wishes in the bedroom and she could live a near normal life with Lissy.

Dressed in pale pink corduroy overalls, the seven-year-old girl clambered quickly up the last slope on the way to the beach where her mother's piano lay. Ginny's steps quickened as well, fueled by the knowledge that she could lay her hands on the keys and feel a little at home.

She pulled off her leather sandals, and ran barefoot to the crate by the sea, the sand caressing pleasantly between her toes. She signed for Lissy to come help her. Together, they pulled out the weak nails that held together the already broken box. When the glossy mahogany surface was alas revealed, she smiled in such a way that she almost felt laughter bubbling in her throat.

"Oh, mum!" Lissy squealed. "Play something! Play that song I love!"

Without hesitation, Ginny pushed back the lid and pressed her fingers into the familiar keys. She felt melodies calling to her, and she dove into them, letting her hands flitter across the black and white blocks. 

Lissy danced across the sand, laughing with carefree glee as she twirled in endless circles. The bitter wind no longer battered the pair, but rather kissed them with ocean salt and fresh spring air. The piano was where home was.

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The stinging rain had abated, though the clouds spoke of another imminent downpour for the evening. Draco Malfoy hurriedly grabbed his broom for his dusk ride along the coast. He kicked off from his balcony, rising quickly and following the rocky cliffs and beaches up the coast. Ever since he had moved to New Zealand, he had taken this same route. It wasn't the scenery that attracted him, though one could hardly complain of a breath-taking expanse of sand and ocean illuminated with the setting sun. No, it was the feeling of the wind running through his hair and robes, the joy of being completely alone and at peace. His eyes scanned the earth and stopped with a start at the coast outside Flint's manor. Was that a piano?

He swooped down lower and was amazed to find his initial assumption to be right. He jumped off his broom to the sand and examined the instrument. Despite the fact that it had been left out on the beach during the storm to be soaked by the oceans waves and rain, it was an excellent instrument. Draco stared at it, an idea forming in his mind. His new manor was missing a piano, and it was just like Flint to under-appreciate craftsman ship. He straddled his broom again, this time heading for Flints manor.

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Lissy was tucked safe and warm into her own room. Marcus had done it personally. Her new father made sure to spoil her with new dresses and toys, but she still did not call him Papa. Ginny knew her daughter awaited her approval. Though grateful for Marcus' kindness to Lissy, she refused his advances again that night. She was determined to make the marriage work, however reprobate its origin, but she wasn't ready to share his bed yet. So when he stood up and stormed violently to leave the room, she rushed after him and grabbed his hand. How could she make him understand?

He pushed her away angrily. "The thing I don't understand, Virginia, is why the hell you could spread your legs for her fucking father, but not for me."

Ginny froze, her temper rising past a point of control. She slapped him, her pale palm leaving a red mark across his cheek. He grabbed her wrist and threw her viciously on the bed. Fear began to crawl up her spine as he strode closer to her.

He smiled sinisterly and shook his head. "Not tonight, Virginia. Tomorrow, you will be mine whether you like it or not. Either way, you can forget about seeing your precious piano ever again."

Ginny closed her eyes simply because she could not stand to see him anymore. She heard him turn out the lights and slam the door shut behind him.

It was a sleepless night for all she could think about was her piano. She decided to ignore his bluff. She would see it tomorrow morning. Bright and early, she and Lissy would go and play in the sand like they did today. She gazed out her balcony window until sunrise, anticipating the time she could spend alone with her daughter.

When at last they were on the path to the beach, Ginny felt her heart rising with unprecedented joy. She realized that these few hours would be her only happiness for years to come.

Lissy skipped eagerly ahead, humming her favorite tune mindlessly on the cobblestone steps. She stopped at the end of the trail and gasped. "Mum!!"

Ginny hurried behind her, lifting her long black skirt until she stood next to her daughter. There was nothing but sand between her and the ocean, a few old boards marking the place where her piano once stood.

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End of Chapter One