The music is all around us.
Monday morning, first week of the summer.
Harry Potter hadn't planned on it. Not really. If it were up to him, he'd stayed in his room, buried under his thin blanket to grieve the loss of his godfather. However, the choice wasn't his. The blank haired wizard did as commanded, no hair on his head wanted to risk punishment and so, he was walking one step behind his whale of a cousin, carrying a - not necessarily heavy but simply awkward to handle - guitar case into the modest community centre near Privet drive number four. Apparently his cousin Dudley had decided he wanted to play the instrument and they were there for the lessons.
Harry, at first, was heavily against it and wished he was anywhere else instead of there. The looks of the neighbourhood people gathered there weren't pleasant. He was well aware they thought he was a delinquent enrolled at St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. Never mind the fact said school didn't exist and he, before receiving his Hogwarts letter, should have gone to Stonewall High. A perfectly normal, albeit cheap, public school.
But the deed was done, he had his reputation as scum of the neighbourhood and no matter how friendly and well behaved he was, fingers were pointed to him for the slightest mishaps, shop owners and others alike followed his every movement in case he might steal or vandalise something within the borders of their property and children were kept away by mothers who scrunched up their faces when they spotted him from afar.
Harry sighed, shaking his head at the glares and continued to follow his cousin trudging through the clear white hallways in search of the right class room. Oh, how he wished he could wear his invisibility cloak and hide. This was in some ways worse than the looks he'd received in Hogwarts. At least there he had some friends to conquer the masses with and other things to focus on. Then again, one would think that after years of being mistreated at home and avoided outside of it would become something he was used to. It never did though.
Harry was stuck in his thoughts of wanting to get away, yet, he was completely aware of his surroundings. That's when he heard it. That's when he saw her. A small child no more than eight years old he guessed; reddish blonde pigtails, a children's diadem with bright red, fake jewels glued on perching atop of her head and wearing a sunny red dress. She nodded at someone he didn't see and settled a violin in position. She carefully, painstakingly tried her hand at copying what he heard moments before. The sound was not the lovely melody that grasped his attention in the first place but it wasn't bad. Perhaps a little scratchy, a little slower and haltingly played yet still nice enough - he thought. He wasn't one with a fine taste learned in music but this - it spoke to him in ways he never experienced before.
Harry was in awe. Completely captured. He didn't even notice how he had let the guitar case clatter to the ground or how Dudley was standing a few steps away from him, arms folded over each other, disgruntled and impatient for him to come along. The bigger boy was in no way going to bend down and pick the instrument up himself or carry it the remainder of the journey. That was what he brought his small cousin along for, he was better than that. For the moment at least, but he didn't knew that right now. But what Dudley did know at the moment was that even he couldn't deny how deeply intrigued Harry seemed to be.
Without realising, Harry stepped forward, an unseen force tugging at his being to come closer. His fingers reached up to clamp at the edge of the white window on eye high and kept on staring. Inside the room, Harry was assuming there was a teacher who stood just out of sight, because it clapped his or her hands once and the girl dropped her violin.
The melody, hummed happily so pure and sweet just as the moment when he walked passed minutes ago started again, played in what he thought to be perfection by the teacher. The teacher was something else Harry noted as she swirled finally into sight; tip-toeing in rhythm around the girl with a soft smile on her face. She, with rainbow coloured dreadlocks reaching till her thighs - with her black several layers dress and with the sleeveless vest in a nebula yellow pattern that hung open, reaching to the floor and so light, that it floated and danced on the flow of wind she created. She looked so calm, so at peace and Harry envied her.
"Come on." Dudley grunted but the words were at loss when the teacher caught Harry's eye and beckoned him. Oh, how he wanted to step into that room and learn but he knew he couldn't. Reality crashed. Harry shook his head and moved away from the window, picking the guitar case up and spared a glance at Dudley. He didn't look to happy but seemed torn over something. Harry guessed it was probably whether he was going to dig down three or four plates of food for dinner or something similar. Because of that, Harry didn't saw how the teacher sported a confused look for a moment, or saw how she levelled her violin down in grace, said a word or two to the girl and briskly stepped to the door, opened it slowly and peeked her head out. Her tone was a little short from accusing. "You, young lad, looked so enthralled. May I ask why you refuse to come in?"
Harry turned on his heel, he hadn't thought she would call him out on it. "I.. Ehh.. " He scratched the back of his head. "I just can't.." He gave a thumb shake over his shoulder at his cousin who in turn, reacted unexpected.
"Harry." Dudley grunted out and he turned back at the bigger boy. "Give me that." He snatched the case out of Harry's hands and jerked his head at the class. "Get in."
"Dudl-" Harry started but was cut off.
"I saw that look too ya know." He gave a lazy wave at the woman Harry had his back turned to. "That.. Uhh.." He waved his hand at the teacher, not able to recite her words. "Whatever she said. You should.." He grumbled, glaring. "Just go, you stupid. I won't tell mum."
"Ehh?"
"..Or dad. " Dudley added as an afterthought and made a shoo-ing motion for Harry to go.
Harry was, to say the least, shocked. He blinked and was about to ask his cousin if he was sure but the other boy was already well on his way towards his own class, leaving Harry standing there - watching him walk away.
"Erhm.." Harry mumbled as he turned back to the teacher, not quite knowing what to say.
She however, smiled and opened the door further, stepping aside and with a graceful gesture silently welcomed him into the room. Harry took a deep breath and nodded, slipped in and heard the door fall shut.
He felt so awkward and definitely nervous standing there. Feeling like that, he arm crossed his chest, his hand clutching his upper arm and he vehemently pushed back the feeling from shuffling on his feet and running out the room - desperately wanting was another thing from actually doing. He felt out of place and cursed his Gryffindor courage for abandoning his at this very moment. A fleeting thought had him caught for a mere second - maybe he was more of a Slytherin then he originally thought?
The teacher introduced herself as Million Marebelle and Harry mumbled his own name, shyly shaking her hand. She gave him a smile, something he barely noticed because his eyes drifted of to the young girl who stuck her tongue out and scowled at him. It was a harsh reminder of Malfoy. She was, Harry noted, horrifyingly good at said face and he just hoped that was the only thing they shared. He was so not up to having to deal with a miniature muggle version of the boy who made his life sour every chance he had.
"Kelsey." Mrs. Marebelle said softly and grabbed the girl's attention. "Please practice the full routine twice."
"Okay!" Kelsey answered, the haughty look vanished and a smile appeared in its place. She bounced off to a corner. Moments later the sounds of her violin filled the room once more.
The teacher patted Harry on the shoulder. "Relax." Another smile and she drifted out the room, only to come back with a battered looking case. The leather was peeling off, marred by years of seemingly uncared use; The clasps rusted and one obviously broken. Mrs. Marebelle set in on the bench that lined the wall below the windows of the room and clicked it open before motioning Harry over. Her eyes lit up when he looked oddly charmed by the dusty violin that she scooped up. The wood was dull and scratched. The bow beside it had seen the floor one too many times and missed chips and sported cracks. "It doesn't look much," She sighed, mourning it's state. "But it works perfectly fine."
"It's just been used a lot."
"Exactly." She offered the violin to Harry. "Would you like to try it?"
"Yeah?" He responded softly, letting his hand fall away from his arm and brought it up to his mouth. He bit his knuckles and then shuffled on his feet. He couldn't beat the nervousness he felt anymore. "I wouldn't know how."
"Like this.. " She moved him around like a marionette adjusting him to the perfect hold and things went quick from there. For the next hour she did what she was made for; she taught and Harry, to her amazement, picked things up quicker than any other she had ever taught before. It lightened her heart, seeing how caught up he was and the gentle smile tucking at his lips as he hazed away on the tunes.
"Harry?" The gruff voice of his cousin sounded through the room, breaking the thrall the other was in.
The green eyed boy in question swirled on his feet. So taken in the lesson he had forgotten about Dudley. "Erhm.. Hi."
"We gotta go." And with that, he stomped out of the room.
Mrs. Marebelle took the violin out of Harry's hands and he thanked her, twice. He even bowed at her, so grateful for the opportunity. She giggled at him, told him he was being silly and complimented him on his skills. She said he had talent – that he had it like she had never seen before. Harry blushed. For all that he was and wasn't, for all that he had done and was the cause of; under the impression he couldn't do a thing right, and muck things up with every step he took, with that and then knowing - being told to be excel at anything other that a game on brooms.. she couldn't ever understand how much this meant to him and he couldn't bring it into words to tell the muggle lady that. But with that, even if this was just a once in a life time thing, for a moment there he felt so proud, he felt finally worth something. For the first time since a while finally felt good about himself. Even so, he didn't expect her to say what she did.
"The next class is Wednesday afternoon, two O'clock."
"I.. What?"
"I expect you well and on time."
"But I can't afford this." He blurted out, hands shooting up to cover his face, maybe ashamed – definitely unworthy.
"Did I ask you to pay?"
"No?" He whispered uncertain through the cracks between his fingers.
"Two O'clock, Harry." She went to put the violin back in its case and handed him a small book, forcing him to take it and look instead of hide. "Read this in the meanwhile." She ordered sternly.
He took it and read the title out loud. "Learn the Violin." He skimmed through it and then Dudley called out again, angrily this time. Harry's eyes widened, knowing his cousin hated waiting. It wouldn't do to become a punching bag again or get rattled out and punished. Neither his aunt or uncle liked him being late. Harry held the book close and mumbled a thank you once more before he skidded out the room. "Bye!"
That night, the everlasting nightmares he had held the tune of a violin on the back ground. They were still scary, they still hurt, but the music softened it up, if only for the tinniest bit. A sound that would grow stronger, more prominent and one that would eventually take over with each night and violin lesson that passed. He still had nights filled of seeing adventures he wished he never had, still saw the people he loved and cared about die again and again and still saw the red eyes angrily staring at him. Yet, the sound made the nightmares turn into dreams even if their content never changed. It made him grow stronger. He understood and the pain drifted away. It became a bittersweet symphony.