Summary: She'd been his angel of music for the last of their years at Hogwarts. She'd sung the music of the sorrows and happy endings that constantly filled her life and the lives of others. Hermione Granger was his saving grace, and the only regret he carried is that he should have known it sooner. He didn't used to hurt her the way he did. They'd sit and talk and cuddle. But when his father died, bastard though Lucius Malfoy was, the trouble started. The way he'd hurt her was unspeakable, and the bruises he left on her arms, her face, and her stomach were her silent reminder that sometimes, all a person needs is music. Music that tells the tale of sorrow, yet ends with happiness...the music of sorrow to quietly remind him that she could never leave him even if she tried, and the music of happy endings to tell him that there is never a single relationship in the world that isn't worth saving. There is not a single person in the world that doesn't deserve hope. There will never be a reason for anyone to give up their hopes and dreams...and there should never be a reason for an angel of music to be silenced...not for all the gold in the world.
Author's Note: As with all of my fanfictions, I have to relay my emotions. Normally, I would write a fanfiction with this pairing only to inevitably break them up. I started with that intention, then I realized that I would be conforming to the fact that everyone sees hopelessness in even the most unlikely relationship...and I also realized that that is not fair to make the people that enjoy reading fanfictions think that they should always break Hermione and Draco up. This fanfiction was written so that anyone that chooses to read it realizes the importance of music. It can make or break someone's hopes and dreams, and without it, the lives of many diminish into the crowd of society that holds neither hope or any sort of aspirations. I dedicate this fanfiction to all of those that appreciate the true meaning of music. To all that love, this is for you.
Disclaimer: I own neither Hermione Granger nor Draco Malfoy. I simply use their lives to tell a story.
She covered the red mark on her cheek with her hand, shuddering in fear as he approached, ready to strike her again. She bit her lip, a tear fell down her cheek, and a sob escaped her lips. Her eyes closed, she awaited the next hit. She'd learned that if he hit her once, he'd hit her again. Or punch her. Or kick her. Or do something that would leave her running to her bedroom, their bedroom, forcing her to lock the door, collapsing in tears onto their bed.
He didn't know how much he hurt her. His father had done this to his mother, but Draco never saw her hurt. He never saw a single tear shining on his mother's cheek; he never saw her carry herself with anything but pride. He hated the relationship he was in; he despised the Mudblood…but yet he loved her so much he couldn't explain it. Something in the way her eyes shone with happiness when she looked at him made him feel like he was doing something right. But then he'd lash out and hit her. Just like he'd done a few moments ago.
He towered over her, smirking as she cowered in the corner he'd forced her into. His eyes emitted a menacing glare. But he hadn't said a word to her. He hadn't told her what she'd done that made him want to hit her until she ran away from him crying. He never had. And he didn't plan to. To him, she was his girlfriend, but she was also his toy. That was what the woman in the relationship was to him. A means for the man to get pleasure and children, and an easy way out of doing the chores around the house. Women meant nothing to him, but this one also meant everything.
Which was why he'd never explain why he hit her. He'd let her run out of the room crying, and he'd wait on the couch with the TV blaring so that he wouldn't hear her sobs as she let the tears flow. She'd eventually come out, sit tentatively on the couch next to him, then he'd coax her into leaning against him, biting back his own tears. Not even Draco knew why he hit her. But yet he did. She'd been the angel of music for him; during their seventh year back at Hogwarts, he'd sit in the corridors, listening to a soft soprano voice as it flowed through the air like the scent of flowers. During his own period of hurt, she was his savior.
And for the longest time, he didn't know who the soft soprano voice was. He'd go to look, and all he could see of the girl was her shadow. She'd have her hair brushed back, sitting sideways, always sideways, and her eyes would gaze hopelessly at the moon as she sang. Her eyes were all that he saw of her. Those were the eyes that he'd fallen in love with. He couldn't see the arms that wrapped tightly around her legs, nor the head that rested on the knees that she'd have drawn close to her chest. She only saw the moonlight reflecting in her chestnut eyes.
But the last night of term, Hermione was still singing on the window ledge in the Astronomy tower. That was the night that he'd found out who she was. He'd sat in the corridor, listening as always, when she finally emerged from her sanctuary. The eyes he'd come to love widened in surprise as she spotted him, and he'd glanced up at her. His breath caught in his throat, his heart skipped a beat, and he'd walked over to her.
Her hair was brushed back, her sweater was pulled tight to her chest, and her skirt was barely enough to keep her legs warm. Draco had pulled her into his arms, and he'd kissed her. He didn't know her name, her face was still hidden from him, but he'd kissed her. And the moment he did, he felt her arms sliding around his neck. His angel of music, his only release from the painful life as a Malfoy, the young woman who sang songs of sorrow and happy endings, loved him. She was surprised, of course, when she was pulled into his embrace, but she'd figured out that she was safe with him, and she'd kissed him back. Hermione, the Gryffindor bookworm, the true friend of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, loved Draco Malfoy with everything she could muster.
All summer long she'd sing to him, holding him close to her, her voice soft, as if she'd always been singing just for him. No more songs of sorrow, not only the music of a young couple that had found a not only a happy ending, but the music of a young man who needed his angel of music to keep him feeling that there was a reason for everyone to live.
It wasn't until his father passed away the November after term that he'd started beating her. Her sorrow once again sang softly in their bedroom. Shaking, but still there. Draco had hurt his girlfriend in more ways than he could ever imagine. She couldn't muster up the strength to leave him, only because she thought there would be that day that he would stop and realize what he meant to her, but that day never came. Not even a year after the abuse started had he realized what he was doing. But tonight, he did.
His hand was still raised, yet he stared at it as if it were foreign to him. It didn't belong on his arm; his hand should never strike her cheek like it just had. His eyes were not meant to glare into her fearful, tearing chestnut eyes. He bit his lip as she winced, he'd offered her hand to her, but now she saw that as a way for him to get a decent strike at her. But even when she took his hand, he didn't touch her. A sigh of relief, and then there was no more reason for her to run into their bedroom and let the sorrow sing through her tears. She smiled meekly at him, and it was in that moment that he realized that the only thing he hated her for was not coming out of her sanctuary in the Astronomy tower's window before the last night of term.
He loved her for everything else.
Her arm slid hesitantly around his neck, joined by the other, and her head found a resting place on his chest. She sobbed quietly into his shirt, but there was no more reason for tears to follow. He rested his hands on the small of her back, and he let his head tilt into hers, closing his eyes as he slowly brought them into a slow dance. Eventually her sobs subsided, then came to a complete stop. She sighed lightly as she followed his lead, then she looked up at him with shining eyes, a small smile sweeping across her lips. Her pink lips parted, and with a small breath, his angel of music gave him the music of a happy ending. In the middle of their kitchen floor, they danced as if they were at a party, joining other couples, moving to the music of a full band. But instead, they danced to the sound of Hermione's voice.
His arms assured her heart that he wouldn't be able to bear hurting her again, and the smile assured her eyes that there would be no reason on Earth good enough for him to ever want to walk out the door with his bags packed. He could never want to leave her, he could never force himself to watch the tears fall from her eyes as she watched him leave her life, and he could never go on with living without those nightly conversations, however light they may be, because he needed his angel of music.
And she needed him. He had had her heart for so long that she would never fully get it back, and even if she did, she could never give it to another. She could never give another man the songs that she'd given to him. Because he'd had them for longer than their seventh year at Hogwarts. Maybe he hadn't gotten her songs while she sat, pained, in the window ledge of the Astronomy tower, but he'd gotten them as she offered small smiles to him as she'd pass him in the hallway. Harry and Ron would glare at her, as if she were a traitor, but Hermione somehow knew that Draco needed a support somewhere in the castle, and with her caring spirit, she knew she had to be it.
She'd known that someone listened to her singing. She'd known that someone out there needed her love, without her knowing who she was allowing to fall in love with her, and who she was falling in love with in return. But she'd known; the second she'd walked out of the tower and into the corridor, she'd found out. Hermione had let him hold her and kiss her, and truth be told, she couldn't say that she ever hated him. Not in their first year when he tried to get Harry hurt, not in their second year when he'd yelled that she would be the first to die. She found herself extremely close to hate when he was the cause for Hagrid and Buckbeak's pain, but she couldn't hate him. She couldn't hate him in their fourth year when he'd made those 'Potter Stinks' badges, but yet again she found that she was too close for comfort to hexing him into the next millennium. In their fifth year, they barely saw him, so she saw no reason to hate.
Sixth year came, and she couldn't blame him for the missive that Voldemort had given him; she knew he would never be able to kill Dumbledore, even if he wanted to. He wasn't strong enough to beat the Headmaster. The only one she couldn't forgive was Snape.
Then their seventh and final year at Hogwarts came. And she loved him. She sang for him. She shed tears for his pain, for her own pain, and she felt his presence in the corridor. She knew that someone was healing with her words. And Draco loved her because he had eventually forgotten that his father was a drunken, abusive bastard that deserved life no more than the batty old hag that was related to Draco's mother. Draco knew that he was no longer alone in his hurt. He'd heard that someone had lost his or her parents over the summer. A muggleborn. That same muggleborn still came to school. He felt that pain. He knew that the girl that sang was the one that had lost her strongest support system.
He'd waited silently in that corridor for hours each night, hoping she'd come out and smile, knowing that the fallen heart she was saving was the wretched son of one of the strongest Death Eaters alive. But it took her all term just to emerge from the tower in time to see him get up and turn to leave. It took her all term to give Draco a chance to meet his saviour. It took her all term to see him in all his hurt, knowing that she had saved him from a deep depression
Draco hated the Mudblood, yet he loved her so much that he knew he could never leave her behind.
Not a likely tale, as many would rather see these two fight and never meet again...but I do hope that with one single story, I've proved that NOTHING, I repeat, NOTHING is impossible if you truly want it to work.
Regards,
NothingFarFromPerfect
Be sure to review, and let me know if I've done justice to your own angel of music.