Disclaimer: Potterverse belongs to JK Rowling, of course. I only own the plot.
at that particular moment
Several weeks had passed since that fateful morning when Fidweten had delievered that letter to his last remaining master. It was now nearly Halloween and the school was abuzz with excitement. Decorations had gone up, bathing the old castle in an eerie glamour. Peeves the poltergeist who was already a tiresome nuisance on a daily basis became even less tolerable as the holiday drew nearer and the staff had quite a hard time because it was hard to control the excitable spirit.
As such, on Halloween Day itself, Peeves was his usual uncontrollable mischievous self, pelting anyone passing the corridor he was floating above with little black and orange balloons filled with nasty stinksap. And as it happened, a certain tall, blond-haired seventh-year was attacked with smelly stinksap bombs as he walked past unawares. Draco Malfoy looked up, cursing loudly as Peeves cackled manically. Narrowing his eyes, he pulled out his wand and without hesitation, recalled a little spell he remembered from his third year. "Waddiwasi!"
The effect was brilliant. The entire bundle of stinksap bombs shot straight at Peeves' face, forcing him to float away hurriedly. Smirking, Draco chanted the spell to rid himself off the stinksap and continued his way to the Great Hall for the Halloween Feast. The boy stopped at the entrance, leaning slightly against the doorframe. Quite unfathomably, he did not feel like heading over to the Slytherin table and joining his housemates for the Feast.
Over the past two months he had grown further and further apart from them, hardly spending time with them and never once had he even stepped into the Slytherin common room upon his return to Hogwarts. It was bliss at first, being ignored by them because most of them were just half-wits who couldn't bother themselves with noticing anything but their own thickheadedness and it would have continued that way if not for Pansy Parkinson.
He frowned as he stared at her from the doorway. She had been so insistent in following him around that he had actually finally told her off a week ago, saying he would rather be followed by a half-bred mongrel rather than the likes of her. Of course, the boy did not quite know there was a hidden meaning to his words but Pansy had taken it offensively and thought he preferred the company of that Granger girl and since then, she had been taunting him about it.
Draco's eyes strayed over to the Gryffindor table, his empty grey orbs scanning each face until they rested on the object of his frustration. Hermione Granger. It was bad enough that he had to share a dormitory with her but Pansy's ceaseless hateful teasing involving her was getting to his nerves. He watched as the girl laughed casually with her housemates about something or other, not knowing she was being watched. He noticed that she was seated incredulously close to the Weasel kid and for some unknown reason, that greatly irked him.
He decided quickly that he was just angered at the fact that she could find something to laugh about and he couldn't. In fact, the morning after he had grabbed her by the neck in a moment of fury she had acted like nothing had happened. True, she refused to look at him and always glared determinedly the other way if they ever crossed paths but the fact that she had not shown any vast changes in her attitude towards him had unconsciously made him think about her more than he wanted to. It did not help that he had found her crying quietly to herself on the couch one night. Draco had been having a recent scandal with insomnia and on that night, after giving up tossing and turning and wanting to sneak out and get some fresh air, he walked out of his room and down the stairs only to be interrupted by a soft sob. Upon investigation, he found the girl curled up on the couch in the cold cold common room, her face covered by that big bushy hair, her body gradually shaking with each sob from time to time. A part of him had wanted to comfort her or at least cover her with a nice warm blanket but all he did was stare at the crying girl for a whole minute before slipping out of the common room quietly.
'Now look at her, all smiles and laughter ... who would've thought little miss perfect actually does cry?' Draco shook his head, sighed softly and turned around. His appetite had waned and the appeal of the delicious-smelling Feast did nothing to him. The Head Boy retraced his steps and was halfway to his room when the temptation of the dark outdoors lured him out of the castle and into the courtyard. Choosing a secluded bench in the shadows, he sat down and closed his eyes, a feeling of restlessness overcoming him. He then rummaged through his robes and pulled out an old flute, looking it over and running his fingers lightly over the instrument. Playing the flute had been a childhood hobby of his, that is, until his father had put a stop to it. He had threatened to send him to live with their lesser-known squib relatives who lived as muggles unless he stopped "playing that infernal muggle instrument," so he did.
What Lucius never knew was every year Draco had snuck the flute into the very bottom of his suitcase, taking it out to play once in awhile. Now, the golden-haired teenage boy lifted the flute in his hands with his eyes still closed and began the blow a slow, haunting tune, his fingers expertly caressing the right notes. So engrossed was he into fingering the right musical tempo that he did not notice he was no longer alone in the courtyard. He did not see the brown-haired girl walking briskly out of the castle and into the courtyard, her arms held protectively tight around her body, her robes blowing about her in the night breeze. He did not see her stop dead in her tracks, a half-sob stuck in her throat as the sound of beautifully melancholic music tingled her ears and she looked up. He did not see her look around wildly in search of the source of the endearing sounds in vain. He did not see her step forward cautiously towards him until he came into her line of view, causing her to gasp softly.
The soft gasp was all it took for him to snap out of his reverie, his eyes fluttering open, the trails of music fading into nothingness. He stared at her as she stared at him, a battle of surprised eyeballing. He then noticed the way she held herself as though afraid of falling to pieces, making her a picture of pitiful fragility. The tearstains on her face were unmistakeable and his eyes widened slightly, wondering how she could be crying when she was just laughing merrily minutes ago. He slowly lowered his hands, discreetly tucking his flute back into his robes, his gaze never leaving hers.
It was then that realization dawned on the both of them; Halloween night and Hogwarts' Head Boy and Girl had just caught each other in their moment of weakness unwillingly. Under normal circumstances, this might have been awkward, leading to the usual childish arguments that their tempers were known to provoke, yet ... this time it seemed different. This time around, it felt like this certain situation was meant to happen. After what seemed like several minutes, although less than one had barely passed by, he softly broke the silent spell between them.
"You're crying again."
Her surprise was expected. "You knew?" she breathed.
He nodded. She bit her lip and her emotions seemed to take control over her once more as her facial expression fluidly changed to something not unlike misery. Draco watched her, a million questions running through his mind, the foremost one being why he wasn't already laughing at her for being such a crybaby and walking away, yet he pushed that thought the the far end of his mind. At that particular moment, she was just a girl and he, just a boy. He stood up, his movements slow and careful. His arms reached out to her in trepidation and she hesitated a second or two before giving in to her emotions and falling into them. A burst of tears came flooding forth and he found himself gently rubbing her back, whispering soft words of comfort.
They stood like that for quite awhile, not quite realising what they were doing but simply milking the tenderness for all it was worth, holding on to the other for the mere warmth and comfort of having someone who understood how bottled-up frustration and depression though mild as it was can be quite the devil. The clock tower rang out quite suddenly, making the boy and the girl jump apart, looking anywhere but at each other as though what just happened between them was illicit and wrong. Mumbling something under her breath, she quickly footstepped her way back into the castle, rubbing her tearstained face with her voluminous robes.
Draco stole a look at her retreating figure and sighed. Reality had returned to his senses and he could not help but wonder why, out of all people he could share such a lovely moment with, it just had to be the Granger girl.