DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K. Rowling.
Chapter Four - A Musical Night
Glancing at his wristwatch, Blaise huffed in annoyance and lengthened his strides. Searching the dungeons was pointless; Draco would never be so stupid as to stay within Slytherin territory while doing something against his friend's wishes. The blond's fascination with the flute was becoming worrying.
Grimacing in distaste, the dark-haired wizard loped up the stairs leading to the main floor and paused. Students looked at him as they passed, giving the lone Slytherin a wider berth then he probably deserved. Curling a lip at several Hufflepuffs, he continued his hunt. The main corridor was crowded, students of the various houses brushing elbows as they spoke to friends and arranged study schedules. A flash of green and silver had him crossing his fingers as he peered into an alcove.
"Do you mind?" Theodore Nott growled, raising his mouth from the lips of the Ravenclaw he'd been kissing. Quirking an eyebrow at the angered look on Blaise's face, he ignored the whimper emitted by the witch and shuffled back from her slightly. "What's wrong?"
"Have you seen Draco?" Blaise demanded, shooting a quick look at the red-faced witch. A loud whoop from down the hall had his body freezing. He looked over his shoulder and let his eyes follow the path of the small group of overly rambunctious Gryffindors, noting the direction they took so he might avoid them in the future.
"Not since Pansy yelled at him in the Common Room earlier." Theo replied casually, arms still wrapped around his witch's waist. The Ravenclaw struggled in his grip, embarrassed to have been caught snogging a Slytherin.
Groaning, Blaise stepped out of the alcove and looked around. "If you see him, tell him I'm looking for him." He muttered, sliding a hand into his pocket and checking for his wand. Fingers closing around the cool wood, he withdrew it and slid it up his sleeve. Taking one step, he stopped and glanced back at his fellow Slytherin. "By the way, Theo, I really think you can do better."
The other wizard's bark of laughter followed him down the hall, as did the witch's disgruntled yelp. Smirking at the chaos he'd probably created between the pair, he tossed a quick look into an empty classroom. Draco could literally be anywhere. Hogwarts was massive and there were many small rooms that the blond might have chosen to hide in.
Miss Norris slunk from the shadows and hissed angrily before him, long tail lashing as she narrowed her bright eyes. Blaise narrowed his own eyes and hissed at the threatening feline; curfew wasn't for another few hours. Gliding around the growling cat, he pointed a finger at her and mouthed two words, flicking his finger as if it were a wand. The cat gave one threatening hiss before vanishing back into the shadows. Peering into yet another classroom, Blaise wondered if he'd ever find the missing wizard. Arguing voices turned his head. Chewing his lip, he trotted quietly down the hall before ducking behind a stone statue.
Six students plodded by slowly, joking as they waved their brooms around, obviously miming out some incident that had occurred while they'd been playing. Their red and gold robes warned him to hold his position, to wait until they'd disappeared before beginning his seemingly hopeless quest.
"Bloody Gryffindorks." He muttered, stepping from behind the statute and brushing at his robes. The faint whisper of music had him stilling and tipping his head. "I've got you!" He mumbled in triumph, jogging slowly as he followed the call of the flute. His boots rang against the stone floor as he trotted up a flight of stairs. When the music stopped he froze and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited for Draco to begin again. Fingers tapping his elbow, he smirked when the music resumed moments later. Sometimes, the blond was so very predictable.
XxXxX
The journal resting in Harry's hands held the three Gryffindors spellbound. Its pages were thin, the parchment a faint yellow with age. Splotches of ink marred the perfection of that which rested on the paper, as if each symbol had been written hastily lest the artist forget. In groupings of five, straight lines paraded across the pale parchment. Small musical notes dotted each line, their tails curved slightly in completion.
"Music?" Hermione whispered, her voiced coloured with disappointment. She reached out and pulled the book from Harry's hands, flipping the page as if to verify her statement. Page after page was filled with written music. Bar upon bar containing scribbled notes.
Harry frowned as he watched Hermione turn the pages, dark eyebrows drawn down in thought. Holding out his hand, he wiggled his fingers and waited for the witch to return the book to him. Shaking his head as the book was handed back with an unhappy huff, he quickly closed it and drew his wand. Tapping the cover, he whispered the spell Professor Snape had unknowingly taught him several years ago. Holding his breath, he opened it again and began to scan each page carefully.
"Maybe the notes are arranged to form some sort of hidden message?" Hermione suggested, leaning back on her elbows and chewing her lip in concentration. She watched Harry continue his search, eyes narrowed as the raven-haired wizard studied each smear and note.
"Maybe its just music." Ron grumbled, slumping forward and resting his chin in his palms. The redhead rolled his eyes when his girlfriend snorted in disbelief, as if the book could be anything other then simply music.
"Really, Ron. Who records music in a Blood Bound journal then locks it into a vault for safe keeping?" Hermione demanded, heels thumping the wooden bed frame. Shifting, she sat up and waved a hand when his mouth opened to respond. "There's obviously something in there that the writer doesn't want anyone to know about."
"Why do you have to make such a fuss over the simplest things?" Ron muttered in exasperation. Toeing his shoes off, he curled his legs beneath him and dragged part of the comforter over his lap.
"I think I found something." Harry whispered quietly, one finger pointing at the bottom corner of a page. His finger circled his discovery, making sure the arguing pair saw what he was speaking about. Leaning closer, he nibbled his bottom lip before straightening and shaking his head. "I can't read it."
Narrowing her eyes, Hermione curled a lock of brown hair around a finger as she studied the dainty script. The writing was clearly feminine. Loops were larger then they could have been and the last letter of each word was ended with a flourish. "It looks like Latin." She murmured, lifting the book closer to her face so she could see better.
"Well, what does it say?" Ron hissed in excitement, his eyes wide as he leaned forward in expectation of the coming message.
Hermione shot the redhead an amused look and reached over to Harry's desk. Grabbing a slip of crumpled parchment and an old quill, she copied each word, stopping frequently to check her spelling. "Latin is a dead language, Ron. I can't just read it." She mumbled dryly, closing the journal and passing it back to Harry. Glancing down at the copied words, she shook her head before folding the piece of parchment and sliding it into a pocket. "None of the words are familiar from class either."
Harry ran a hand over the book, fingers trailing down the spine. All three were left blinking as a white light engulfed the journal. Pulling lightly on the cover established that the magical locks had slid back into place, making the journal unopenable to anyone. "Do you think you'll be able to translate it?" He asked quietly, turning his head as the door swung open and Dean trudged in followed by Seamus.
Hermione shrugged her shoulders and stood. Shaking out her robes, she placed a quick kiss on Ron's cheek and headed for the door. "I'll look into it tomorrow." She called hurriedly, blushing as Dean cooed at her and smacked his lips together, mocking the small kiss she'd just given Ron.
Grinning as Ron threw his dirty sock at Dean in retaliation, Harry placed the journal in his trunk and closed the lid gently. Patting the wooden cover, he turned and was slapped in the face by a smelly object. Cringing, he plucked it from his face and hurled it at the ground. "That's disgusting." He hissed through his gritted teeth, marching toward the bathroom with the sole thought of washing his face. Pausing in front of a cracked mirror, he closed his eyes and rested his hands on the edge of the sink. Praying for a dream free sleep, he began to scrub his face.
XxXxX
The moon hung low in the sky, surrounded by twinkling stars. Under its watchful gaze, one of the second year astronomy classes studied the night sky through telescopes. Draco smirked as he watched a young Slytherin discreetly aim his wand at a Gryffindor witch. Chuckling in delight over the sudden flurry of movement the small hex caused, the blond ran a loving hand over the flute he held. He snorted and shook his head as he remembered Pansy's narrowed eyes and the sting of her words as she demanded he leave the instrument with her. She hadn't even checked the case.
Running his tongue over his lips, he raised the flute and closed his eyes. The first ballad he drifted into was one of his favourites, a tale of love and desire that ended tragically. He played without thought, the tips of his fingers floating above the dragon keys. Holding the last note longer then he should have, he smirked and lowered the silver flute. Under the moonlight, it glowed white. Rolling it carefully, he watched as the small images came alive. Wings beating and flames swelling to life as the dragons traveled along the instrument.
Sighing, he rested the flute against his abdomen as he slid down the edge of the window frame. The stone was cold under his bottom, making him shiver and wrap his arms around his waist. Peering out at the lake sloshing softly against the shore beneath the castle, he smiled. An owl hooted loudly, its call answered by dozens of other voices.
Remembering the complicated tune that had echoed around Malfoy Manor at night, he frowned and narrowed his blue eyes. He slid a pale finger over the twining DM, silently thinking of every possible thing the letters could stand for. Shaking his head when he found himself repeating words, he raised the flute and played the opening notes of the dark-haired witch's song. The sound of each note seemed to echo within the night, trembling before vanishing. It was as if the very night stopped to listen. Crickets, owls, and the stars themselves pausing in interest. Cringing as his fingers began tripping over the more difficult notes, he stopped and glared up at the moon.
"Why can't I remember the rest?" He whispered, jerking his head around as the door behind him swung open. Raising an eyebrow at the sight of a panting Blaise, he hid the flute under the edge of his robe.
Fuming, the other wizard stalked forward and halted before Draco. His hands were planted firmly on his hips as he glared down at the blond, one foot taping the floor. "I remember quite clearly telling you not to play that damn flute." He barked, shaking his head as Draco gave him an innocent look. "I suppose you're going to ask me what flute, like you don't have it tucked under the corner of your cloak."
Sniffing, Draco rose and shook his robes out. He held the flute in one hand while swiping at the wrinkles in the rumpled cloth. "It wasn't under my cloak. It was under my robe." He stated, raising his chin and meeting the other wizard's eyes.
"That's beside the point." Blaise snapped, he reached out and made a grab for the instrument the blond cradled, surprised when Draco danced away gracefully. "Draco, might I remind you we know nothing about that flute."
"It's a flute, Blaise. The worst I can do is get a callus from playing too much." Draco said slowly, eyes wide as he gestured at the silver instrument. Waving it slowly back and forth, he rolled his eyes and walked toward the other wizard. "Maybe it's an important family heirloom that my father wanted to keep safe. The possibilities are endless."
"Pansy and I would feel a lot better if you wouldn't play it until we know what it does. A flute that intricately engraved is rarely just a flute. It does something, Draco. Something that we could never begin to imagine." Blaise explained softly, glancing at the floor for a moment. Shaking his head, he looked at the blond who stood directly in front of him. "Give me another day or two, Draco."
Sighing, Draco slid the instrument into his pocket before nodding in agreement. He held his hand out in a gesture of peace, smirking as Blaise took the appendage and dragged him close. Slapping each other on the back for a moment, they pulled a part before turning and heading toward the door. The flute was heavy in his pocket, the renewed promise resting even heavier in his mind.
"It's not that bad. I brought my violin, you can play with that." Blaise offered reluctantly, wincing at the memory of the last time the blond had attempted to play the stringed instrument. The squeal of strings had been so bad his mother's cat had taken refuge beneath her bed and refused to come out for two days.
Smirking at the look on his friend's face, Draco rubbed his hands together. "Maybe I'll take you up on that offer." He purred evilly, chuckling in delight as the dark-haired wizard paled. Grinning, the pair walked quietly back to the dungeons, ignoring the chiming of the large clock that informed them all that curfew was drawing ever closer.
XxXxX
Across the churning and tossing ocean, notes drifted slowly. The soft tune carried ever further by the whistling wind that raced over the water and fields tended lovingly by farmers. Deep within the Rocky Mountains, small hot springs bubbled frantically. Dust and rock shook as several massive forms began to uncurl. Tails slid over stone and bumped against the confining walls, shaking small pebbles and rocks free of their moorings. Wings curved and brushed across scaled bodies, grating harshly against the rough skin. Long necks were stretched as the beasts raised their heads, parting their jaws on long drawn out yawns.
The darkness was broken by a faint glow, the flush of fire burning deep inside a dragon's chest. Heads were tipped as the earth around them whispered, the rumble familiar and pulling. Rising for the first time in centuries, the clan of Mage Dragons shook the dust from their scales and flipped their wings. Under the orange glow, the scales covering their long bodies were painted red and yellow, blues and greens hidden by the shadows they had slept in. Breaking through the thick snow and ice that had hidden them for so long, the last great clan of dragons took to the pale sky.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review! Apologies for the late update.
websurffer - lol, I get where you're going. I'm sure Lady Raveana's hatred shall eventually lead her to commit some crime against Draco for simply being a Malfoy.
NinjaoftheDarkness - Only sometimes? lol, my brother proves the theory daily!
The Earth Mystic - lol, so many thoughts, so many possibilities. . .
keeper of most knowledge - I got you with that one, didn't I?
dreamerlc - lol, hopefully I'll be able to eventually rectify that last point.
AmethystSiri - You have to look at the sentimental factor though. Girls are often a lot more sentimental then guys, that's why I keep a thieved pair of salt and pepper shakers on display in my room. I mean, girls keep stuff that guys would throw out without a second thought. I think there's probably a bit of romantic thinking going on as well, the history and mystery is just to much for poor Hermione.