The Human Stain Chapter 7: While The Piano Sounds, a harry potter fanfic

The Human Stain

By Anna Kate

To Amy,

My best friend at my old school, and my constant inspiration.

Thank you so much!

Chapter Seven- While the Piano Sounds

"Chrissy? What, Draco, wait-," but it was too late, as Draco had bolted through the door and was pounding through the corridors. Harry stood and raced after him, dodging antiques and china things alike. Every time he turned one corner, he caught sight of white-blond hair before Draco rounded another corner.

Coming to the main marble staircase, Draco practically flew down those while Harry followed, bounding and tripping down the flight.

"DRACO!" Harry shouted, and Draco stopped, and turned. His hair was falling in his face and tears streamed from his eyes. He gives Harry a pained look, and brings a hand up to cover his eyes. "Draco, stop." Harry said quietly, moving towards Draco. Draco dropped his hand and bit his bottom lip, shaking.

Neither man said anything, just looked at each other. Draco seemed to be listening, but no sound came; he let out an unsteady breath and continued to shake. Harry walked forward and put a hand on Draco's shoulder, unsure of how to make the blond man calm again. Draco looked at Harry, and then squirmed his way so that he was pressed against Harry's chest. Harry stiffened, and then put an awkward arm around Draco's back.

Harry made some hushing sounds, and rubbed Draco's back, unsure of how to stop the other man crying, which Harry noticed when he felt a damp patch on his shoulder. Suddenly, the little girl's laughter rang out again through the foyer.

Draco jerked away from Harry and turned around rapidly.

"CHRYSEIS!" he shouted and the little girl's laughter sounded again. "CHRYSEIS, COME HERE NOW!" Draco said, going into his father mode.

"Yes Father," the girl's voice said and Draco staggered back into Harry, face drained completely of colour while Harry's eyes went wide.

Wind whistled past both men and Harry squinted as the wind built up to such a level that it stung his eyes.

"Play the piano, father, and I shall see you!" the voice commanded, and Draco staggered over to the grand piano in the centre of the room. Sitting down, he hesitantly begun to touch the keys and eventually struck up a haunting and morbid melody, dark and quiet while Harry watched silently.

"In my eyes, you are the light,

The Darkest melody of night.

And in my eyes, you hold me close,

My darling fairy tale night time." Draco sung softly, causing Harry to jump. Draco's voice was shaky and quiet, but he continued singing. The giggle sounded again.

"And if I do grow scared,

I'll call your name and you'll be there.

And in my room you'll tell again,

My darling fairy tale night time." The voice sung and the wind started up again. Closing his eyes, Harry couldn't see and when he reopened them, he fell back on the floor in shock.

A little girl stood at the foot of the stairs, dressed in a formal almost-Victorian dress, frills trimming her chubby arms and the skirt touched her knees, made floaty by various petty coats.

Her hair was ringletted and blonde, her eyes wide and dark. Her features were rounded and looked mismatched on her narrow face. She was definitely Draco's daughter, Chryseis Malfoy. Draco didn't look up, continuing to play the piano although he was shaking uncontrollably.

Chryseis walked over to her father and sat down next to him, and played in time with him, two octaves higher on the keys, and Draco's eyes flickered over to the keys but he still did not look at Chryseis. It was almost as if he was oblivious to her.

"Draco," Harry said and Draco didn't look at him, but nodded. "Draco, she's next to you." Draco looked up and shook his head, still playing.

"She's not. She's not anywhere!" Realisation hit Harry like a wet flannel in the face. Draco couldn't see his daughter. For all his love, Draco could not visualise his daughter.

"Draco, she's playing the piano next to you. She's beautiful," Harry said, moving closer to Draco. "Her hair is in ringlets, and she's wearing a dress. She looks just like you." More tears flowed down Draco's face and he tore his hands away from the piano as if it was burning him. Chryseis gave a small cry and disappeared.

Draco shook uncontrollably under Harry's gaze, and he looked up at him with large grey eyes.

"I want to go home." He whispered and Harry nodded. Helping Draco up, he took his car keys out of his pocket and walked back to the car.

Draco spent the entire car ride crying and sleeping. Harry spent most of his time thinking about why he could see Chryseis while Draco couldn't. Why? They had both seen Harold and Draco, but why couldn't Draco see his own daughter?

The minute both men entered the flat, Draco walked straight to his own room and lay down on the bed, shivering. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was set into a firm line, and Harry could only watch him from the doorway, unsure of how to act, unsure of how to be around Draco Malfoy.

Draco slipped into sleep within 10 minutes and that left Harry alone in the flat for a while before Claudia came home. She was supposed to be home at 5, and it was only 3. Uncertain of what to do, Harry sat down at his computer in his bedroom and began writing more of a short story he was working on.

Harry never knew how he had become interested in writing, especially to the level of an International Bestselling Author. He supposed it stemmed from his days when he lived in the Wizarding World,(Welcome back, ol' pang of pain!), and he wrote down battles in his diary.

"What's that?"

"Nothing, just some writing."

"Can I read it?"

"Sure," handing over the diary, eyes flickering over to words, hair twisting around a long, pale finger.

"It's good," handing the book back. "You should write more."

"Thanks Aries."

Harry jerked awake, hardly noticing he had fallen asleep. He blinked wearily at the digital clock, which told him it was 4 o'clock. Harry sat up in his chair, groaning at the way his muscles and joints creaked from being in an awkward position for so long.

Standing up, Harry shuffled out into the living room and looked around. Nothing was out of place, and the study door was shut, which meant Draco was probably still in there. Sighing, Harry ran a hand through his hair, and adjusted his glasses on his nose. He looked around and then went to make himself some coffee in the kitchen.

Sitting down at the table with his mug of the hot drink, Harry pulled out the piles of paper again. Scanning over the notes, he grew annoyed. Picking up a pen, Harry began to scribble down notes.

Harold + Draco I. Murdered at Christmas. Unknown Killer; Mystery solved eventually. Kaleo ?.

He continued in this fashion for a while, then plotted out chapter plans, did character sketches until he finally had the entire plan for a book. Harry sat, stunned at what he had written, not noticing Draco watching him from the doorway to his room.

The truth is Harry Potter is trying to kill him.

But Harry is always trying to kill him, so it's nothing new. He kills him in so many different ways.

His eyes. They kill him the most. Wide and so green that it hurts to look at them. They are always filled with emotion, though love always underlines that one, love is always there in his eyes. Harry's eyes light up when he smiles, and darken when he gets mad. They shine when he's upset and glow when he looks at something he wants.

They always glow when they look at Aries.

Draco sighs and shakes his head.

His hair kills Draco too. The way it curls at the back of his neck. Harry has always insisted his hair is unruly, messy but it's not; it curls gently around his face, framing it with ebony locks. Harry is always brushing his hair away from his eyes or the back of his neck where it annoys him.

Aries always played with his hair.

Draco's eyes snap back to focus and he can still see Harry leaning over his notes, mumbling to himself.

His voice can kill Draco. It's deep and throaty, and it's one of those voices you would kill for just to hear it say your name. It's a voice that goes very very loud when he's mad, very very soft when he's upset and his laughter is deep and throaty too. It makes Draco shiver whenever Harry says his name.

Draco runs a hand through his hand and look over at the brunet.

The truth is Harry Potter will always try to kill him.

Harry looked up and round when he heard footsteps as Draco came to sit down at the table. His hair was messy and fell over his shoulders, slightly wavy and his eyes were red and sore-looking.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked and Draco started nodding, but then stopped.

"No," he croaked out, his eyes burning with tears again. "No, I'm not all right!" he put his crossed arms on the table and rested his head on them. Harry reached over and put a hand on Draco's forearm and Draco flinched away. "Don't." he mumbled.

Harry sighed and took his hand away, but placed it on the table in front of Draco's left hand. Draco looked up at him and Harry gave a small smile.

"I'm sorry you couldn't see her," he said softly. "She's very beautiful." Draco still stared at him plaintively and then reached over and interlaced his fingers with Harry's. Harry had the sudden urge to flinch away, but didn't. He held Draco's hand and looked at the blond man.

"Thank you." Draco whispered tearfully. He gave Harry a weak smile and continued to hold his hand.

Their hands remained joined until Claudia came home.

That night, long after Claudia had gone to bed, Harry and Draco were still up watching television. Harry was sprawled out on the sofa and Draco had his knees drawn up to his chest on the armchair. Both men, unconsciously kept looking at each other and then kept diverting their gaze.

Eventually Harry cleared his throat and turned to look at Draco.

"We need to talk." He stated. Draco looked over at him, still clutching his knees.

"About what?"

"Us? This? Everything?" Harry suggested.

"Articulate aren't you?" Draco drawled sarcastically and Harry stiffened, biting his bottom lip. He knew that it was a defence mechanism; if Draco was hurt or upset he would snap or insult those around him.

Unfortunately for Harry, he was always the one around.

"Don't be like that, Draco." He said and then rose to leave. As he walked past the armchair, Draco's hand shot out and grabbed his arm. Draco stood and tugged gently on Harry's sleeve to turn him around. Harry turned around and Draco shuffled awkwardly.

"I'm… I'm sorry," Draco mumbled. "I'm just upset; I couldn't see her," his voice broke and he looked tearful. "I miss her so much and I still love her, but I can't see her." He said, and Harry pulled him into an embrace.

"I know, I know." Harry said softly, while Draco cried. Gradually Draco's sobs died away but he still clung to Harry, arms around Harry's neck, with Harry's arms around his waist. Draco didn't move to go away and Harry didn't move to let go, so both men stayed like that for a short time.

Eventually Draco cleared his throat and dropped his arms. He smiled at Harry and walked past him to the door.

"Draco, wait." Harry said, spinning around. Draco stopped and looked at him oddly. Harry held a hand out to him at full length, then dropped it, sighing.

"I'm sorry about Chryseis."

"Don't be," Draco cut him off. "It wasn't your fault." Harry held up a hand to silence him.

"I just wanted to say… I did miss you the years I was gone."

"I didn't ask." Harry shrugged and ran a hand through his hair.

"Just thought you ought to know." He paused and looked up into steel grey eyes. "Aries" Draco clucked his tongue and sauntered towards Harry, hands on hips.

"Guess who finally decided to call me by my old nickname, Apollo." Harry flinched.

"Don't be like that."

"Be like what?" Draco snapped back. "Be like what, Harry-fucking-Apollo!" he insisted, stamping towards Harry until they were almost nose-to-nose.

"Be stupid, selfish, snappy and arrogant, that's what!" Harry snapped back, retaliating. "Why are you being like this?" he asked in a gentler tone, scanning Draco's face with bright eyes.

"Why? WHY?" Draco snorted and pushed Harry away. He spun on his heel, his hair flicking out behind him. He stormed over to the bookshelf against the wall and picked up a photo of Harry and Claudia. "This is why! You have her, Harry, you have your baby girl with her bright eyes and black hair! Me? What do I have? A corpse in a grave and a ghost I can't even fucking see!" Draco ranted. "I wanted what you and Claudia have, Apollo, but my fucking father took that away from me!" He took a deep breath and put the photo down. "He takes everything away from me." He ran a finger down the side of the frame.

"He didn't take me away from you…" Harry said softly and Draco snorted.

"No; you took yourself away." He said, sounding betrayed and lost. Harry ran a hand through his hair and sat down on the sofa.

"Draco, if I could have another chance at it-,"

"Who said I wouldn't let you have another chance?" Draco whispered, stunning Harry into silence. He turned and looked at Harry, eyes soft and inviting, his arms crossed over his chest.

"You… You would?" Harry asked and Draco nodded. "Erm, well, I… Why? I've been gone 16 years, Draco, 16 years and you think we can start where we left off?" Draco shook his head and sat on the arm of the sofa.

"No, not where we left off. We can start again though; a new start. A better one." Draco seemed to be talking to himself, his eyes unfocused when he looked at Harry. Harry was squirming uncomfortably where he sat.

"I have a daughter." He said plainly and Draco's eyes snapped back to focus, hard and cruel. He opened his mouth to say something when a scream came from Claudia's room.

There was so much blood. It was drowning her, killing her, making her sick and light-headed. The room reeked of it, over-powering and coppery.

"Welcome home, my darling," he said, standing before her, the hood of his cloak drawn up over his head, shadowing his face. She kept quiet, pressing her lips together in a thin line. "Don't' you have something to say to your grandfather?" she shook her head. "Shame."

He flicked his wrist at her, and she went sprawling to the ground, crying out as she fell on the sharp cold stones. He walked over to her and knelt beside her, not in a caring pose but one that demanded submission.

"Tell me about him!" he shouted and she winced.

"About whom?" she asked quietly.

"Him! The one who gave you life, the one who will hold your heart for all eternity and you shall hold his!" he snapped, grabbing her wrist and holding onto it. She gasped; his hands were cold and marble-like, icy to the touch.

"I don't know who you're talking about!" she told him and he glared at her, gritting his teeth together. Tears began to flow down her cheeks and patting softly on the white skirt of her dress.

"You saw him earlier. He was at the house!"

"Grandfather," where did that come from? "I don't know him, I don't know who he is, please, let me go!" he threw her back to the floor, sending her sprawling again. She raised a hand to wipe away the tears and froze; her hand was slim and pale, with long perfect nails, so unlike her tanned hand with nails bitten to the quick. She gave a small scream.

"What is it, child!" he snapped to her and she looked up at him.

"I'm not myself." He raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not myself! I'M NOT MYSELF!" she screamed, jumping up, her long skirt falling to her bare feet, ripped and torn, revealing petticoats. "WHO AM I IF NOT MYSELF!" she shouted, rounding on the hooded man. He threw his head back and laughed, the hood falling away to show pale hair and pale skin.

He looked like he was dead, his cheeks hollowed and his eyes too large for his face. They glinted with insanity and anger towards her, towards the world. He was terrifying. She staggered backwards away from him and he stalked towards her, taking her face in his hands, smirking down upon her.

"You are dead." He whispered, and her mouth fell open.

"I AM NOT DEAD!" she shouted, pushing against his chest, sending him staggering away, laughing at her.

"Of course you are, my dear. Everyone knows it." He was toying with her mind, she couldn't be dead, she couldn't be dead, she couldn't be dead. She was alive, she was young and alive and she had her father and her mother and… oh…

She whipped around, her hair flying out around her, clutching at her hair and tears flew off her cheeks and she spun, faster and faster and faster until she stopped. She had noticed her hair.

It was almost white in this moonlight, pale and shimmering. She had only seen hair like that once before.

Draco Malfoy.

She opened her mouth and screamed.

000

Another Chapter done! I hope you enjoyed this. Sorry it's late, I had computer problems.

One thing though: if anyone is interested in BETA-reading for me, let me know because I do need it. Just post a review with your e-mail or just saying you want to do it, and I'll contact you. Thanks!

- Anna Kate.