Hermione pushed the mahogany door open and walked into the confined room. It smelled of stale beer and booze, a mix she didn't like. The place was small, borderline depressing, with only a few tables present. Around each of the tables, two shabby seats were placed. Soft music was playing in the background - dark and melodic, which she appreciated. At least something was right about the dreary place.
The ground beneath her heels was sticky. To keep the shoe firmly on her foot, she cast a sticking charm. The very thought of losing it and stepping into the muck with her bare sole sent a shiver down her spine. She shook herself and wrinkled her nose. Anna would hear about it.
Anna was her age, worked on the same floor and had lunch with her almost every day. They had slowly got to know each other during the breaks and had eventually become friends. Their friendship had improved after Anna had come out to her, making women another interest they shared. Fortunately, Anna hadn't come on to her because Hermione fancied her women like she liked her wine: an older vintage, full of flavour and heady.
Hermione looked around the bar. It didn't look like a place a classical pianist would frequent. She couldn't quite figure out whether it was muggle or wizarding. The patrons seemed inconspicuous, with no peculiar clothing items or wands visible. However, on the shelf behind the pretty barkeeper, she spotted a bottle that looked suspiciously like firewhiskey. Despite her observation, she didn't dare to order a shot of it and opted for a safer beverage: a Bramble.
The pretty mixologist prepared it swiftly, pushed the drink towards her, leaned closer and whispered, 'on the house!'
Hermione sighed. Had cute blonde been a few years older, she would've asked her on a date. Her young round cheeks, however, lacked the sharpness she craved in a woman's features. Hermione had dated enough young things to know she didn't appreciate their plain faces. She slipped her 15 quid, ignored her grumbling and left the counter in search of a suitable seat. She chose one on the far right of the room. Close enough to the piano but not in the front row.
Careful not to draw attention to herself, she cast a quick scourgify before sitting on the worn-out leather chair. She placed her forearm on the table and sighed exasperated when it touched something liquid and sticky. 'Ugh,' she said and cast another charm to get rid of it. Yes, Anna would certainly hear about this.
Hermione let her thoughts drift back to the reason she was here tonight. Anna had given her the insider tip that Andrea Noir was doing a show this evening. Like Banksy for street art, Andrea Noir was the queen of underground piano music. She had already made a name for herself in the late seventies but had disappeared for a good three decades until she had resurfaced a few years ago. Despite her fame, no one had managed to figure out her true identity.
She had gained fame by adding her unique touch to famous works of classical music. It made heads turn all over London, and she was celebrated among connoisseurs. Although Hermione had a fondness for classical music, she had never managed to hear Ms Noir play. She knew, however, that the fabulous pianist always disappeared from her performances as quickly as she appeared. A clue that led Hermione to suspect that she was a witch. Even more intriguing, she thought.
Slowly but surely, the room filled up with people. There were nowhere near as many chairs as would have been necessary for everyone to sit. Hermione was glad she had shown up almost an hour before the pianist was supposed to perform.
She had finished half of her cocktail when the enigmatic pianist stepped onto the stage. Anticipation spread through Hermione. After months, she would finally hear her play. Although she didn't mind sitting alone in the bar, she wished Anna was here with her and not on a date so she could gush about the pianist with her. She turned her eyes back to the woman on stage.
The pianist wore a sequined dark grey floor-length dress that clung to her curves and had a deep cut on the left side that almost reached her hip. It was undoubtedly for more flexibility while she played. Still, Hermione couldn't stop herself from thinking that it looked breathtakingly good on her. For a second, she wished she could trace the exposed, tanned skin with her hand.
As expected, the pianist's face was hidden behind a mask. The mask was black and adorned with black gemstones and sat firmly on her face without any visible straps. It shielded her eyes as well as part of her nose. Her hair was smooth and fell loosely in dark waves down her back. In the dim light, it looked as black as night.
Andrea Noir lifted her hand, and the lights went out. Before Hermione could react, chandeliers appeared on the ceiling and slowly descended. They wrapped the room in a spherical light. The seat beneath her bum transformed into a modern black bar stool, and the wooden surface of her table changed into a smooth black glass top. As the interior became more modern, the scent of stale beer was replaced with a smell of lilac. Hermione drew a deep breath enjoying the flowery scent.
Hermione was fascinated and intrigued even though Ms Noir hadn't even touched the keys yet. At least she knew new for sure that the pianist was indeed a witch, but as she had also read about her in The Times, the woman played muggle locations.
The pianist sat down on the edge of the upholstered black piano chair. She lifted her chin into the air and took two deep breaths before she brought her long fingers down onto the keys.
Hermione gasped as the first notes of Chopin resounded through the room. It was one of her favourite pieces. Like the music that had filled the bar earlier, it was dark, slow and melodic. Before the pianist got to Hermione's favourite bit, she began to change the tempo. She slowed it down and continued to play in a different key. It became even darker and the undertone more dramatic. It was still flowing, and despite the difference, the piercing uniqueness of Chopin was still noticeable. Never before had Hermione heard such music. She closed her eyes and let herself drift through the various movements. The pianist ended the piece by returning to its original melody.
After the second piece, the dark-haired witch sat up straight, stretched her neck and massaged her fingers. She brought her glass of red wine towards her lips and drank a slow slip. When she put it back, a perfectly shaped stain of her black lipstick graced the glass.
Moments later, she raised her arms, straightened her spine and took a deep breath before launching into another masterpiece. The first few notes distinctively reminded Hermione of Mendelssohn, but then the music took a different turn. It became more modern, faster and different in a way Hermione couldn't quite place. After each movement, the pianist strayed further from the original until, in the end, it sounded like an original piece that had sprung from the brilliant pianist herself.
The melody was thoughtful and never lost its finesse. It had an otherworldly effect and got Hermione hooked. The pianist's body moved along with her steady fingers. Although Hermione couldn't see her clearly, she was sure her face was covered with emotions as she moved flawlessly through the piece. The way she moved her chin with every powerful forte was a sight to behold. She played with energy and enthusiasm. The music became fluid and fast before moving into a wavering diminuendo, finally fading into silence.
The pianist stood from her seat in a flawless motion and perfect posture. She bowed ever so slightly and left the stage without hesitation.
Hermione let out a breath. The silence the musician left behind was almost painful. No surprise, everyone was dazzled by her. Hermione had never witnessed such wonderful music before. Distracted by it, she hadn't even drunk her drink. Now that it was only lukewarm, she left the bar without finishing it.
-§-§-§-§-§-
'Have I promised too much?' Anna asked the following day on their way to work.
'You've missed quite the performance. I felt the music so deep inside I could almost taste it. You were a fool to go on that date instead of accompanying me. At least you didn't have to witness the run down hovel you sent me to. It was disgusting.' She shook her shoulders and shot Anna an annoyed glance.
Anna chuckled and gave her a knowing smile. 'Oh, come on. The grime doesn't even bother you, you're too enraptured with Ms Noir. It's written all over your face. And Mione, don't judge my date. You're just jealous that you haven't scored one in a while.'
Hermione laughed. 'Don't underestimate me. I can score a date with whomever I want.' Hermione kept her face impassive, though her thoughts wandered to the only woman she yearned for. A woman she wasn't sure she could ever have.
Anna saw right through her. 'Don't kid yourself. As long as you keep pining for her, you won't ask another witch out.'
Hermione grimaced and nodded.
Anna placed her hand on her shoulder and shot her a sympathetic glance. 'Tell me more about yesterday. Did she play Chopin? Did she wear her sinfully low-cut dress? I haven't even seen her face, but I just know that she's drop-dead gorgeous. I can't believe no has figured out who she is.'
Hermione sighed. How hard could it be to find the witch? She had found several Horcruxes! Figuring out the pianist's identity was a mystery she'd love to solve. 'I'd love to meet her,' she said almost dreamily, and Anna snickered.
'I'll listen around when and where she plays next, okay? But now I gotta run to that meeting!' She hastily kissed Hermione on the cheek and disappeared into the crowd.
Once alone, Hermione went through the pianist's performance in her mind. The enigmatic woman fascinated her through and through. It was not only her vibrant music but her whole demeanour and magic that left Hermione speechless. Although she had only seen her once, she felt drawn to her. It even went so far that for a moment, she could forget about the brunette piano teacher she was so in love with. She frowned, not knowing what to make of it.
-§-§-§-§-§-
Anna kept her promise and presented her with five dates and locations barely a week later.
So it came about that Hermione followed the pianist to various gigs across London. Whenever she played at magical venues, she changed the décor of the place. Hermione was grateful for this, as the pianist seemed to favour seedy bars. Whenever she played in upmarket Muggle venues, Hermione was relieved as she preferred the posh interiors and cleanliness of these establishments.
Although she had heard her play many times, she was delighted each time. This was because Ms Noir had mastered various pieces, and Hermione never knew what to expect but also because of the enigmatic musician herself.
Hermione sipped her drink while listening to the pianist. This was the last performance she knew of. According to Anna, the pianist would probably not play again until after the beginning of the Hogwarts term. She had already done so the previous year. Hermione was a little disappointed, as she had not yet managed to approach Ms Noir.
As always, when she played, Hermione watched her admiringly. Sometimes she would get lost in the pianist's movements. It was beautiful to see her feel her music throughout her body.
Andrea Noir ended her performance with a brighter and more cheerful melody than usual, making Hermione sit up and take notice.
When Ms Noir bowed, she turned her face ever so slightly to her left and looked directly at Hermione. Her lips were dark red, and she smiled a toothy smile, showing off perfect white teeth and, to Hermione's shock, a gap between her upper incisors. A gap that Hermione was so familiar with, it took her breath away. Instantly, everything fell into place.
'Andrea Noir,' she whispered, shaking her head.
Hermione stood up briskly and made a beeline for the backstage area but missed the pianist by a heartbeat. The door shut in front of her face, and when she reopened it, only a flutter of her emerald green dress was visible as she apparated away. All that stayed behind was the lingering scent of lilac.
Breathlessly, Hermione leaned against the red cobblestone wall and closed her eyes.
-§-§-§-§-§-
Hermione waited three days before she confronted Andromeda.
When Hermione barged into her house - she had permission to do so - she was teaching a student a simple children's song. The older witch raised an eyebrow and gave her a questioning look, but she didn't stop teaching.
Hermione watched her intently. Even though she sat on the chair with perfect posture, her spine wasn't quite as distinctively straight as Andrea Noir's. Her hair was brown, nowhere near as dark and wavy as the pianist's. Andromeda had it tied in a loose bun, and a few curly strands tumbled into her face. She looked approachable and warm, which didn't quite match the pianist. Hermione squinted and suddenly doubted her suspicion, but then a waft of Andromeda's lilac scented perfume reached her nostrils, and it smelled so very much like the pianist she thought her heart would leap out of her chest.
The longer Hermione stood there watching, the more mistakes the student made. The older witch made a face whenever the child pressed the wrong key. After about the tenth mistake, the brunette shot Hermione an angry glance.
'Why don't you wait in the kitchen, Hermione? Let Sarah and me finish this lesson in peace?'
Feeling busted, Hermione excused herself, grabbed a glass of lemonade and sat down at the table where she skimmed through the Daily Prophet that lay open on the table.
Not even half an hour later, the older witch joined her. Andromeda kicked off her black patent leather shoes in the doorway and strolled towards the counter while massaging her neck with her fingers. In front of the cupboards above the stove, she stood on her tiptoes, stretched and searched the top shelf for a cup. She sighed. 'I love this girl but a prodigy she is not.'
Hermione eyed her and gave her a cocky smile. 'Unlike you?'
Andromeda froze for a moment in her outstretched position, then grabbed a cup and slowly turned to face Hermione as she leaned against the counter. She kept her face stoic and her gaze steady on Hermione. After a moment, she exhaled soundly. 'Did this give me away?' Andromeda smiled as she pointed towards her mouth and ran her tongue over the gap in her teeth.
'It's a bit of a giveaway,' Hermione quipped, somewhat distracted by Andromeda's movements. She didn't say that she had been longing to trace that gap with her tongue for years.
Andromeda rolled her eyes, but her smile never faltered. 'I knew I shouldn't have smiled, but when I saw you, sitting there with this piercing gaze and lovesick expression on your face... I couldn't restrain myself!'
After filling her cup with boiling water and adding a teabag, she sat down opposite Hermione. She crossed her legs and put her hands on the table.
Hands, Hermione had come to admire deeply. Hands that made her feel all sorts of things. Her digits were long and delicate despite their strength. Her nails were trimmed and coloured in a dark shade of red that showed off her fingers beautifully.
Hermione had a hard time tearing her gaze away from those sinful hands and back to her face, which was equally sinful because you could cut yourself on her high cheekbones.
Judging by the strange expression on Andromeda's face and her tilted head, Hermione had been silent a little too long. Suddenly her mouth was parched, and she had to clear her throat before she could speak. 'Your stage name also helped. I can't believe I never figured it out, Andie Black! It's so obvious, it's almost painful.'
Andromeda laughed a melodious laugh which bathed her face in the most beautiful lines and dimples.
'Oh, you know, it's like Clark Kent and his glasses. Why would anyone even assume I roam London's dingiest bars at night?'
Hermione joined in her laughter, mildly surprised that Andromeda knew about Superman. Then again, there was a lot she didn't know about her.
'Touché,' Hermione said. She met her eyes. They were dark and stormy like the music she played. 'No one ever suspected it?'
Andromeda smiled and showed off that blasted tooth gap of hers. 'A few did, but if they ever put the pieces together, they kept it to themselves. It certainly helps that my friends don't share my passion for classical music.'
Hermione took a slow sip of lemonade while she eyed her. 'Is there something else I should know about you?'
The older witch leaned back against her chair and gave her a lopsided smile. 'Where's the fun in telling you. Figure it out for yourself!'
Andromeda winked slowly, which made Hermione's stomach somersault. 'You know, I might take you up on that!' she stammered out, and after a moment of comfortable silence, she added, 'will you play for me?'
Apart from some Christmas carols, which Andromeda clearly detested as they held no emotion whatsoever when she played them, and some lullabies, Hermione had never heard the witch play – apart from when she was Andrea Noir, of course. She longed to listen to those beautiful melodies she created.
'With pleasure!' Andromeda nodded and crossed the room to sit down at the piano.
Hermione marvelled at her. Despite the familiarity of her flowing movements and her hands, her stage persona was nowhere to be seen. She was simply Andromeda, sitting barefoot at her piano, and it was so different, so pervasive, that Hermione tingled with anticipation.
Andromeda brought her fingers down to the keys, and within moments Hermione was lost in her music again. It wrapped her up, lifted her to the clouds and soothed and caressed her, and she was sure it reached her soul.
It was a short piece, but it left Hermione awed, nonetheless. Her music was so otherworldly, she almost couldn't grasp it was real. 'Do you use magic when you play?'
Andromeda shook her head and started to play the next piece, which didn't stop her from explaining. 'At least not on purpose, but since I'm magical, some of it could mingle with the music. My tutor was a witch, obviously, so maybe that influenced me as well.'
Hermione was mesmerised by her ability to play and talk at the same time. As she was keen on thoroughly enjoying the music, she didn't say anything else. She ogled the black piano chair. It was wide enough to fit them both. After drawing an encouraging breath, Hermione sat down next to her, careful not to disturb her.
This time Hermione had a perfect view of her beautiful features as she played. Her brow furrowed whenever she reached a particularly complex passage. The muscles in her jaw were tense most of the time but relaxed when she went to a slower pace. She had those damn angles and sharp curves in her face that made Hermione's knees weak.
Her eyes were closed most of the time as she let her fingertips guide her, but when she opened them, they were blazing and captivating. From time to time, she bit her lip and moved her head in a rapid motion. It was alluring, and Hermione was willing to watch her for all eternity.
Hermione could hardly believe how Andromeda reconciled the two personalities. She was still the gentle, caring Andromeda she had loved for years. But there was also the fire of the striking pianist. Together it was an explosive mixture that almost made her combust.
Andromeda finished her piece with a lovely ritardando. After the last note had stopped resonating through the instrument, Andromeda slowly opened her eyes.
In a fit of bravado, Hermione cupped Andromeda's cheek and let her thumb rest just below her beautiful cheekbone. A sheen of sweat covered her brow, and she was slightly out of breath.
'Stunning,' Hermione whispered.
Andromeda smiled brightly. 'The only thing that's stunning here is you!'
Andromeda fixed her with such an intense gaze that Hermione thought she was about to catch fire. 'You do realise I'm going to have to kiss you if you keep looking at me like that?'
Hermione's breath hitched in her throat when Andromeda leaned closer and closer until her incredibly soft lips were firmly on hers.
Hermione deepened the kiss, and after a few minutes of slow kissing, she let her tongue slide over that damn gap in her teeth, and it was the best thing she had ever done in her life.
Hey you, my lovely followers!
I've heard rumours that isn't doing very well. For a while now I've also posted all my works on AO3.
At some point I'd like to stop cross-posting on AO3 and here so why don't you head over to AO3 and subscribe to me there? I'm also emrldapplejuice there.
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