Les Oiseaux de Clair de Lune
(Also known as 045 Moon, if you're going by fanfic100 numbers)
He used to sit right here. He used to play piano for me, recollecting what he played in his lessons before Hogwarts and making up what he had forgotten. He would play off sheet music sometimes, but he was never good at sight-reading and he was terribly impatient with learning again. Sometimes he would play for me in the dead of night, only the moonlight from outside illuminating the keys and lightening his profile, softened in concentration. He always remembered all the notes to one piece; his favorite.
Claire de Lune, or Moonlight, by Debussy was his favorite piece. It's subtle dissonances and romantic tempi created a beauty when played by anyone, but it was always my favorite when he played it. He would begin the slower, first tempo over exaggerated at first, flashing a cheesy grin at me to make me laugh. As he progressed through the song, he became enveloped in the ever-changing tempo of the song. I fell in love with him all over when he played.
I played the piano all the time; I still do. Mozart, Schubert, Beethoven, Brahms… you name it, I play it. My conservatory is my home inside my home, so to speak. Draco used to complain that I spent more time with my piano than I did with him, a completely untrue story. My piano is my friend that I don't have to gossip to in order to keep happy. I'd play anything at any time… except Claire de Lune and certainly not at night.
This evening, however, I can't sleep. This house is far too big for one person. With Draco at school and Lucius in Azkaban… I have difficulty sleeping every night. I sit at the ebony and ivory keys of my piano, fingers paused above the instrument as if afraid of its bite. I leave the candles unlit, the light of the moon streaming through the thrown open windows. I stare at my fingers and look away immediately.
I begin to play the Claire de Lune, thinking of the way Lucius could make me melt with every measure, every chord, every note, and every pulse. As I play, I remember the first time he played for me. It was at my father's house in the parlor where I had studied as a young girl. His hair was cut short, tucked behind one ear and falling before his face on the other side. He wore dress robes of cobalt velvet, as we were about to go to the opera, and removed his gloves upon seeing the piano. "I want to play you something," he said with a great deal of enthusiasm and took my hand, leading me to the bench. I sat beside him as he played this very piece… the piece that's making me cry at this moment.
I finish the piece, my face now moist with tears. Merlin, I miss him so! Lucius and I have had our disagreements over the years, cursing the other's name and saying terrible things to the other, but I have never stopped loving him since I fell in love with him at fifteen. He has been the quintessence of everything wonderful in the world regardless of all the mistakes he has made, regardless of all his faults. I would give anything to see him right now, to hold him close, and to kiss him once more.
Something moves outside and I look to the windows. A silvery peacock walks across the balcony and for a fleeting second I believe it to be his patronus. It looks inside and I realize that it's just Nachtwind, Lucius' bird. It looks in at me and squawks loudly, flashing its tail almost humorously. I laugh because I realize that Lucius is never really gone as long as his music… and his bird… remain.
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