"No, stop," said Tom.

His errant student looked up with wide eyes, his hands still resting unsurely over the piano keys.

"What I'd do this time?" he asked.

When it came to the piano, Harry was a rather slow learner. Brilliant at the less refined pursuit of sports, and with a coarse wit to match. But in the subtle and instinctual art of the piano, he was hopelessly lost. Even under the tutelage of Tom Riddle of over a month now, Harry still managed to sound as though he was in his first lesson.

"This symbol," said Tom, pointing to the music sheet Harry was playing off. "What is it?"

Harry bit his lip and glanced up at his handsome instructor, who all too often made him feel like a fool. "A birdseye?"

"A fermata," Tom corrected. "What does it mean?"

Harry felt himself shrink under Tom's intense eyes, flecked with red. "Um, a pause?"

Harry shrunk even more when Tom let out a harsh breath, fixing him with a look that clearly sent the message that Harry was an idiot Tom barely had time for.

"You should know this, Harry," said Tom is a restrained voice. "What does a fermata do?"

"Um," said Harry going red. He could never think properly when Tom was looking at him, it made his mind seize up. "It-it's a hold. It means you hold the note."

"Finally," said Tom, "now, why are you not doing that?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't really... I don't understand it, though. Why's it over rests as well?"

"Move," ordered Tom. Harry slid over on the bench, creating just enough space for Tom to sit down, Tom looked at him with one raised eyebrow. "That means get up," he said, some amusement leaking through his voice.

"Oh - sorry," said Harry quickly, scrambling to stand up.

Tom said down smoothly, and delicately rested his fingers on the keys. "Music," he said, "should be regarded as both sound and silence. We mix both together to create the flow, you must regard the times of silence to be as important as those filled with sound. In an orchestral piece, the quiet sound of a lone flute, or complete silence should be treated with the same importance as the louder times the whole orchestra plays together. Understand?"

Harry nodded. "I think so," he said, "I'm not pausing enough?"

"That is a start," said Tom with a glance at Harry. "Music is not a race. Listen."

Harry leant on the piano as he watched Tom's long fingers move expertly over the keys, the melodies Tom produced rising and falling around Harry's ears. He wished he could play like Tom; fingers effortless as they flew over the keys, perfectly in sync with the music. Tom's eyes were trained on the music sheet, even though he didn't seem to be playing too much attention to it, never glancing at his fingers.

"Hear that?" asked Tom as the music died, shaking Harry from his daze. "This line here, you barely held the rest at all. But, when you let the silence last, you add impact when the music comes in again."

Harry nodded. "Yeah," he said, trying to rest his eyes somewhere that wasn't looking at Tom.

Tom let out a sigh. "You are distracted," he said. "Do you want to stop for today?"

"No," said Harry quickly. "It's fine. I can do this."

But Tom just regarded Harry wIth a blank look, eyebrow raised again. "We'll pause for today," he said.

"But-but," said Harry, "I'm fine I can do this!"

"No, Harry," said Tom. "Pack your things away. You can come back, same time next week."

Harry deflated. "Please, I can-"

Tom looked at Harry intently. "I know that," he said, "but for now, you need a rest." He stepped forward, just far enough away that Harry wouldn't step back. Harry kept his eyes down, arms enclosing his chest tightly. Tom gently slipped a hand under Harry's chin tilting his head up. Harry unwillingly met Tom eyes for about a second before looking away again.

"Harry," said Tom gently, "you don't need to continue with these lessons if you don't enjoy them."

"No, don't-" said Harry quickly.

Tom's thumb slid over Harry's cheek as a small smile tugged at his lips. "Why don't you just ask me out and be done with it?"

Harry turned a rather distinct shade of cherry red. "That's, um, fine, er, you…?" He bit his lip and looked quizzically at Harry.

Tom's smile bloomed fully. He wrapped an arm around Harry, pulling him closer. "Come on, I'm only three years older than you."

Harry gave a nervous smile. He drew a deep breath, then, very shakily, leaned up and kissed Tom on the very corner of the mouth. He went to escape, blushing furiously. But Tom, now smiling broadly, pulled Harry close and kissed him fully on the mouth.

"Finally," Tom said, pulling apart for a moment before they kissed again, Harry's arms coming to wrap around Tom tightly.

A/N: Written for Lover's Day

Prompt: (word) fermata

Word count: 838