This the prompt from Heavenly Survivor:
Piano Man! Restrictions. Potions. Krista and Albus.
Since this the first prompt I have received, it felt right to start with this one. Enjoy!
Word count: 801
Disclaimer: I don't own Piano Man or Harry Potter.
Krista Finnegan looked at her reflection with disdain. Potions class usually ended with her potion exploding. This time, she had gotten the share of the friendly potion. Thankfully, it wasn't Acid Potion. Poor Davis Briggs hadn't look the same since. She hated Potions. She almowt wished she'd get a low grade on her O.W.L. If she keeps blowing things up, it'll be a cinch..She often wondered why she had inherited her father's wonderful skill "pyrotechnics." It was such a pain. With a sigh, she looked at her hair from the last explosions. It was still smoking. She spent quite a while casting spells on her hair. A price had to be paid for beauty, she often told herself that when she felt reluctant to pay attention to herself. The price she had payed most was time. It had gotten easier over the years, but when she looked in the mirror, she wondered what kept the boys away. With a sigh, she left the girls' lavatory and was met with dark. She cursed. She was in that bathroom longer than she intended. Her friends would be missing her know. With a huff, she flipped her now beautiful hair and she swiftly walked down the the dark dungeon as quietly as she could.
As she was rounding a corner, she stumbled and fell. She muttered Irish curses under her breath as she picked herself up off the ground, dusting the imaginary dirt off her knees. She grumpily ventured on and passed the entrance to a open area where most Slytherins hung out. Just as she passed it, she heard noise. Music. She paused to listen. A smooth, suave tenor voice seemed to roll of the dungeon walls, the lack of lighting seemed to make the masculine tone even more mysterious. Her curiosity got the best of her and she peeked in. She saw Albus Potter, his nimble fingers gracefully flowing across the keys of a piano. The skilled Transfiguration student must have Transfigured the three barrels into a piano. He was singing a very familiar song. Definitely a Muggle song. She remembered it. Her paternal grandfather sang this one all the time. What was it? Piano Man? Yes, that sounded right.
She closed her eyes. It sounded even better when she did that. She slid down against to a nearby wall, her eyes still closed. The music had bewitching effect, seeming to make the listener unable to leave, almost like a siren, alluring, sweet, and innocent, but really dark and dangerous. Albus Potter's music seems like a veela's singing to a male ear. While listening to the celestial melody, she found herself thinking about Albus more than the music. It felt rather strange to her, since they didn't even call each other by their first name. She couldn't stop thinking about his eyes. They were green, and had a strange look. Not physically, but as if he knew there was something missing from his life, or that that somethings always hurts. She wondered if anyone else noticed. She remembered something her father told her in first year. He told her never to date a Slytherin. Ever. She shifted guilty as she remembered the rules she promised to keep. The restrictions were extremely annoying. Slytherins weren't as bad as they were once. They were so misunderstood. She almost felt bad for them. Then, she sneezed. Loudly. All at once, the music stopped and all was silent. Krista stiffened as she heard Albus Potter walk over to her. He stopped in front of her, looking surprised.
"Finnegan? What are you doing here? It's after curfew," He said in a hushed tone. His eyes looked the same as usual.
"Um, I was just passing by when I sneezed," she said lamely, getting up quickly, playing with the hem of her skirt nervously. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. We stood there in awkward silence.
"Your music sounded nice," she said, looking at the ground.
"Thanks," he said softly.
"Must have been really nice for you stay for so long," he said, smirking slightly. She flushed visibly, looking up.
"I was tired."
"Like I'd believe that."
"Shut up, Potter."
He did, offering her a smile. She rolled her eyes.
"Do you play here often?" She asked.
"Every Friday night," he responded. She turned to leave.
"See you next Friday," he called out to her retreating back.
"Don't count on it, Potter," she said, over her shoulder. With a flick of her hair, she was gone. He chuckled , knowing she'd be back. And she was. His eyes looked happy when she saw him. She never knew why until he asked her out. It was the beginning of a beautiful relationship.
I hoped you enjoyed it! Remember to send me prompts! Love, EmilyHarmony.
