A/N: Just a love story I wrote for AlishaVane45.
If You Dare Challenge - #58 (Music to my ears)
Conversation Starter Prompt Challenge - #32 (Write about a character having a hobby.)
Build A Zoo Challenge - Elephant Enclosure (Hogwarts)
Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #398 (story set at Hogwarts but no teacher can appear)
Board Game Challenge - #23 (Write a story with a plot twist)
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Fred could swear that he heard a piano as he walked down to the dungeons. He had been playing a prank (as usual) on the Slytherins when he heard the lovely sound. He didn't think he knew that an instrument could sound so beautiful. He stopped before the door where the music originated and just listened. He stood by the door, peeking through the window like some kind of creepy stalker. The girl sitting at the glossy black grand piano had long, brown hair and a Slytherin tie, but that was all he knew about her. He couldn't see her face, as the piano was faced against the opposite wall. Her hands flew across the keys, creating sounds that he'd never heard before.
He stayed there until their class period was over, when he heard the startling bell ring. He watched the girl look up, stop her wonderful music, and grab her messenger bag from the ground. Trying to figure out a way to hide from her so that he, a Gryffindor in the Slytherin hallway, would not have to make excuses, he ran into the nearest empty classroom, slamming the door behind him. Why did this girl make his heart race?
He heard the door slam shut, and he dared to poke his head out of the classroom he had been hiding in. He watched her walk away, her long hair swishing down the back of her robes, like a saint or an angel, her arms wrapped around a stack of three or four books. She turned her head a bit at a passing classmate, and finally Fred got a glimpse of her face.
She was beautiful.
He was mesmerized by her every move as she sat in the music room. Fred soon learned that she came there every day during sixth period, which happened to be his free period as well. On Thursday, when he was staring through the door window, she glanced back.
Fred went pale. She'd seen him. He knew she'd seen him. She was going to think he was a stalker, and a crazy, obsessed guy— He glanced around, down the hallways. Most of the classrooms were in use. Where could he hide before she—
The door swung open, nearly hitting him. "Hey," she said, and Fred could swear that her voice was even more beautiful than the music she played. She had full, pink lips and large, hazel eyes that blinked up at him. Contrary to his expectations, her expression did not seem accusatory; merely curious.
"Um—er, you—I—hey," he said finally. He mentally slapped himself. He needed to calm down. "You—er—hi."
"Were you..." She didn't seem to want to accuse him of anything. "Were you standing out here?"
"I—er—I just—" He stopped. He could barely get a word out without stumbling over his words. "Your... playing. Piano. It was good."
She blushed. "Thanks. You were" —she pointed vaguely to the music room— "listening?"
Fred shuffled his feet, staring down at his shoelaces. "Yeah."
"I didn't know Gryffindors came down here."
"Er, we don't, usually," he replied, still not meeting her eyes. "I, er...pranked you guys." Merlin, Fred, why'd you tell her? Now she'll hate you.
Instead of narrowing with anger, her eyes sparkled. "That was you?" she asked. "Enchanting the toilet paper to chase anyone who didn't use it?"
She seemed more amused than anything. "Yeah," he replied, sheepish. "My brother and me."
She grinned. "That was fantastic!"
"Wait—really?"
"Of course!" She starts walking down the hallway beside him. "I love pranks."
Fred's never been this happy before in his entire life. "Really?" he repeats, trying to hold back screams of joy.
"Really, really. You remember last year when the Hufflepuff Quidditch team showed up with entirely green and silver skin?"
"Enchanting the showerheads to be Slytherin, yeah?" Fred remembered as if it were yesterday. He'd admired the secret prankster for being able to pull it off. "That was bloody brilliant."
Her face flushed again. "Thanks."
They're walking slowly towards the stairs, not really caring how long it takes because they have all the time in the world. "I'm Alisha," she says. "Slytherin, as you know."
"Fred," he replies, shaking her hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Likewise."
They went to the music room every sixth period now. Most of the time, she would play and Fred would listen. Sometimes they would just sit and talk. As it turned out, Alisha had much of the same feelings as him as to living up to the expectations of their respective houses, and the same worries about OWLs and their future careers. They would talk and talk and laugh and prank students who passed together until the bell rang and they were forced back into their classes.
"Fred?" she asked once. She was sitting at the piano bench. She'd been in the middle of a song when she stopped.
"Yeah?" he responded. He was lying down on the floor next to the piano, absorbing the sound. He knew now that Alisha smelled like spearmint and watermelon.
"Are you afraid? Honestly. About the Dark Lord and all that."
Fred bit his lip. "Yeah. You?"
"Yeah."
"Do you think that...if he killed me, that anyone at school would care?"
He sat up straight. "Of course!" He was a little surprised that she'd asked the question. "I'd miss you."
"I'm a Slytherin, Fred. Everyone in the other houses hate me because I'm apparently a follower of the Dark Lord, and everyone in my house hates me because I'm not."
"I know you're a Slytherin," he said simply. "That's why you're so bloody good at pranks." Fred knew that people told him he was good at pranks because everything he touched broke. It wasn't as much as a compliment for him as it was for her, but he still gave it to her.
Now, she knew he didn't care about houses. "Thanks, Fred," she said, her fingers pressing down on the keys of the piano once more.
"Anytime."
Alisha wasn't there on Friday. She hadn't said anything to him about missing their meetings or anything, which was rather odd. So, he went down to the Slytherin common room and waited for one of them to show themselves. Most likely, they would know where Alisha was.
Unfortunately, the first Slytherin to appear was Draco Malfoy. "What do you want, Weasley?" he sneered. He smirked. "Come to beg for food already? Sorry, but we serve the homeless on Wednesdays, not Fridays. Come back later."
The pale boy began to walk away, but Fred grabbed his arm. He wasn't here for the Slytherin's jabs at the poor. Draco wrenched it out of his grasp as if his touch burned. "I'm not here for your pathetic jokes, Malfoy! I just want to know where Alisha is."
Finally, Malfoy turned. His pretentious expression vanished. "What?"
"You know... Alisha? Fifth year? Tall, brown hair, hazel eyes—"
"Yeah, I know what she looks like," Draco growled. His eyes... Fred didn't know why he was looking at him like that.
"Well, where is she?"
"She's dead," Malfoy said sharply.
"What?"
His voice was like a dull knife. "I said she's—"
"I heard what you said!" Fred shouted, and then Malfoy arched one platinum blonde eyebrow.
"What do you care about Alisha anyway?" he said. "You're the one who hates Slytherins." And then he walked away.
Fred's heart was pounding. Alisha... She couldn't be dead. Malfoy had to be lying. "Wait!" he said, running to catch up with his enemy's brisk pace. "What—what happened?" Alisha had died? In the battle against evil, she had died? It couldn't be true. Malfoy ignored him, so Fred leapt forward and fastened his freckled hand around the boy's skinny wrist. "Tell me!"
The Slytherin, startled, yanked his arm from Fred's once more and cradled it close to his chest. For the moment, Fred pretended not to see the dark ink carved into the boy's forearm. He glanced down the hallway: once, twice, and then three times. "Alisha's family refused to join the Dark Lord," he said, his eyes trained on Fred. "They tortured them, burned their house down, and then killed them." Before Fred could stop him, Malfoy turned on his heels and sped away.
Alisha.. Alisha was some kind of heroine to the Slytherins now, Fred supposed. A martyr. Or perhaps just a message to them so that they knew they would be dead if they did not obey.
Fred stopped walking as Malfoy continued to head to his class. He fell to his knees in the middle of the hallway. He'd wanted to tell her. He'd wanted to say it. Now, she would never know.
I love you.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please favorite, follow, and review!