DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and all other characters and locations belong to J. K Rowling.
Chapter Six - The Music Room
Gasping for breath, Harry sat up in bed. His pale fingers clutched at the sweat-dampened sheets as his eyes scanned the blurry room. Scrabbling at the night table, he found his glasses and slid them on, blinking as his vision cleared. Around him, his dorm mates slept peacefully. Snores and the rustle of blankets the only sound in the quiet room. He uncurled his fingers and stared at his knuckles, eyes searching for blood. The memory had him swallowing and balling his hands into fists, unwillingly watching the blade slide across the dragon's throat in one smooth stroke. She had done it so easily, killed so effortlessly and efficiently. The blade so light in the palm of her hand.
"Another dream." He whispered into the silence, shoulders shuddering as the fading call of the flute rose up in his mind. The flash of bright emerald eyes and the mass of dark curls had told him everything. She was a Potter. Sighing, he slowly rolled from bed and grabbed his robe. The warmth of the material did nothing to dispatch the chills running up his spine. He halted at the end of his bed and glowered down at the trunk resting there before giving in and opening the lid quietly. The leather journal sat upon a pile of old birthday cards, its creamy cover beckoning. Scooping it up, he held it at arms length and frowned. "What are you trying to tell me?"
Shivering from both the cold and the memories slinking through his mind, he plodded slowly downstairs. He smiled when he saw Hermione perched before the crackling fire, papers and books spread around her. His stocking clad feet whispered over the stone stairs, concealing his presence until he stopped beside the witch.
Hermione's eyes widened as Harry glided from the shadows. Her startled look quickly changing to one of concern as she saw the worn out expression on his pale face. His usually sparkling eyes were shadowed and sad, and in his hands rested the journal. "What happened?"
"I had another dream." Harry murmured, walking around the brown haired witch and shoving some papers out of the way so he could sit down next to her. Slumping into the bawdy red fabric, he settled the leather book on his knee and closed his eyes. "There was a man. He was killing a blue dragon and she killed him. So easily, Hermione, as if his life meant nothing."
Hermione offered him a small smile and rested a light hand on his knee. "I'm sure she only did it because she had too." She said, giving his leg a squeeze before beginning to arrange her papers.
"There were other ways, Hermione. She could have used a spell on him. Could have drawn her wand but she didn't. She pulled a dagger and killed him." Harry stressed, opening his eyes and stretching his toes toward the fire. His shoulders shook as he remembered the cold expression on her face moments before she had plunged the dagger into the wizard's throat. "And the dragon. . . she killed it too."
Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, her grip loosening on the papers she held. Shuffling carefully, she swallowed and set the pile on top of her book. "Sometimes what looks like murder is really mercy. That wizard would have killed more dragons if she had let him go. And the dragon. . . would it have been fair to let it live if it was in pain and unhealable?"
"I suppose." He muttered, fiddling with the journal resting in his lap. The creamy book opened with a click when his fingers fluttered down the spine, seemingly recognizing his touch. Idly, he flipped it open and stared down at the dancing notes.
"I'm finished," Hermione said, pulling a sheet of parchment free of her text and offering it to him.
Harry raised an eyebrow and accepted the paper, flipping it around so he could read her neat writing. "Combine Mage and Maw and you have a power greater then anything ever foresaw." He murmured, frowning in confusion he shook his head and glanced at Hermione. "I don't get it."
"I had one of the seventh years check my translation and they said it was pretty close. It was the line you found in the journal." The bushy haired witch reminded, grinning as his face brightened and he looked at the sentence with a new light in his eyes. Still smiling, she pulled the forgotten journal from his lap and rested it next to another slip of paper. Taking up her quill, she began to write carefully under each note. Pausing every few minutes to confirm what she was writing with her notes before continuing.
"Mage? As in wizard? Or as in dragon?" Harry wondered out loud, glancing over at Hermione. His mouth fell open when he saw she was writing inside the journal. Reaching out to snatch the book back, he found his hands knocked away and a glaring Hermione peering up at him.
"It could be either at this point. Until you figure out what Maw she's speaking about, you'll have to guess." Hermione mumbled, returning to her editing.
"You make it all sound so simple." Harry grumbled, crumpling the paper and pushing it into the pocket of his robe. Leaning back on the soft couch, he crossed his arms and watched Hermione write in the journal. "What are you doing?"
Hermione's cheeks reddened as she paused in mid-letter. Lying her quill down, she sat up and turned to face the raven-haired wizard. "My parents made me take piano lessons when I was younger. I remember some of it, but not enough to play any of this. Whoever wrote this was good, really good." She murmured wistfully, sighing as she looked over the bars of music. Her fingers hovered above the notes, curving as if she could feel the piano keys beneath her ink-stained digits. "Each letter corresponds to a note, which you should be able to figure out."
"I doubt it." Harry mumbled, examining the letters with a studied effort. He accepted the small book Hermione handed him and raised an eyebrow at the diagram of a piano keyboard. "I hope you don't expect me to memorize this."
Shaking her head, she settled her papers back into her bag and rose. "No, but at least make an attempt to remember some of it." Grinning at his groan, she gave him a pat on the knee and headed up the stairs to her dorm room, leaving him to contemplate the markings in the journal.
XxXxX
The Great Hall was crowded and loud during lunch. Numerous students moving to and from their house tables as they arrived and departed for a bite to eat before heading off to their next classes. Amidst all the noise and chatter, Harry sat at the Gryffindor table hunched over a thick book. His eyes were narrowed in concentration, fingers tapping the scarred wood in a steady movement. Glancing up as Hermione and Ron flopped down across from him, he raised a dark eyebrow and frowned.
"What happened to the pair of you?"
Huffing in indignation, Hermione slammed one of her text books down on the table. Tossing her hair angrily, she shot a glare at Ron before pulling a plate closer and looking over today's selection. "Ronald got in a fight with Malfoy." The witch bit out, slapping a sandwich down on her plate. "Right in front of Professor Snape."
"He started it." Ron grumbled, sliding along the bench to put a little more space between Hermione and himself when the witch narrowed her eyes and slowly turned to face him. "He did!"
"You're old enough to know better, Ron. Honestly! You'd think after going to school with Malfoy for five years you'd at least notice his style of warfare. He obviously knew Professor Snape was nearby and would come as soon as the confrontation got out of hand." Hermione hissed, shaking her head in disgust.
Harry rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. The pair would continue to argue like this for the rest of the week or until Ron decided to apologize. Flipping a page of the book sitting on the table in front of him, he let out a gasp and leaned closer. Standing proudly between the limp bodies of two dragons, a blond wizard smirked smugly. In his left hand he held a sword, blood congealing on the metal as he peered around him at carnage. "Malfoy!"
"Um, Harry?" Hermione asked quietly, the tone of her voice raising his head.
He felt his face warm with the rush of blood as he realized the hall had fallen silent at his outburst. Clearing his throat, he looked down the table and made a hand motion, encouraging the Gryffindors to continue their conversations. Rubbing his face with the palm of his hand, he slid the book toward Hermione. "That is a Malfoy, Hermione."
"Harry, it's been widely written and recorded that the Malfoy's built their fortune on the blood of the Mage Dragons." Hermione whispered, closing the book with a thud after looking at the picture. Her face paled as she looked over his shoulder, one hand reaching over and tapping Ron's elbow as a shadow fell over Harry.
"Scarhead." Draco purred in greeting, arms crossed over chest as he looked down at the seated trio. His pale eyebrows arched as he read the cover of the book resting on the table before Harry. "Developed a sudden interest in the history of my family?"
Harry's shoulders hunched at the soft voice, turned slowly on the bench so he could glare up into the blond's icy eyes. "Just trying to figure out if the actual date of your family going dark was recorded." He replied smoothly, placing a hand on the book and dragging it closer to him. Hermione's hiss of warning had him internally rolling his eyes and holding a hand out to ward her off.
Narrowing angered eyes, Draco leaned over Harry and allowed his arms to fall away from his chest, long fingers curling into fists. "I think it was about the same time the Weasel's family went poor." The blond growled, face contorted into a mask of fury at Harry's impertinent remark.
"Take that back, Malfoy!" Ron roared, standing quickly and stumbling against the table as he banged his legs on the bench barricading him in.
"Make me, Weasel." Draco muttered smugly, straightening and shooting a quick look at the head table. Seeing the lack of professors present, he drew his wand and waved it at the redhead. "The day any of you manage to touch me will be the day my father loses his fortune."
Hermione coughed sharply and ran her fingers over the knuckles of her other hand. "I remember touching you quite well, Malfoy. Perhaps a repeat performance will remind you?"
Cheeks reddening, Draco snorted and raised his chin. "I have no idea what you're speaking of." He snapped, spinning around on the heel of his boot and pushing past the Slytherins that had gathered behind him.
Harry chuckled and shot Hermione a triumphant smile, quickly wiping his face clean when he met her blazing eyes.
"Oh, the pair of you!" She hissed, rising and marching from the hall without further comment.
"That was sudden." Ron remarked, licking the tings of his fork clean while staring at the open doors of the Great Hall. Harry nodded in agreement and reopened his book. Finding the last page he remembered reading, he returned to his study of the Mage Dragon hunt and the Malfoys part in their destruction.
XxXxX
Harry slipped silently into the music room and closed the door softly. Along the far wall, large windows allowed the moonlight to brighten the room and cast dark shadows over the floor. Instruments shone bronze and white beneath the glow, shimmering lightly. The thud of his boots on the stones of the floor echoed around the vaulted ceiling, causing him to wince as he approached the piano. Its wood gleamed obsidian and the pale keys called for the practiced fingers of an expert.
He ran a hand over the softly padded bench, stiffening as he gently perched himself on the edge. Sighing, he opened the journal and rested it on the small ledge above the keys. "I hope you're right, Hermione." He mumbled softly, stiffening one finger and jabbing a key without thought. Smiling at the deep thonk, he whispered Lumos and laid his wand carefully in front of the book. The white glow illuminated the letters the Gryffindor witch had written beneath the notes, making them shimmer and dance beneath the inconsistent light.
Chewing his bottom lip in concentration, he whispered the name of the first note and rested his finger on the corresponding key. Under his inexperienced fingers, the note was dull and lifeless. Rolling his eyes in exasperation, he plonked it again before glancing back at the journal. He eyed the second note thoughtfully, looking over the long ladder of ivory keys in search of the one indicated.
The scuff of a shoe and shrieking creak of the door sliding open had him hissing Nox and dragging his invisibility cloak over his head. He slipped off the bench and slunk into the shadows, holding his breath as the figure moved into the room. Emerald eyes widened as the figure looked around, pale blonde hair shining under the moon's gentle fingers.
"Hello?" Draco called, blue eyes narrowing as he searched the room. The tip of his wand swung in a slow arc, white light ghosting over instruments and desks. Snorting in disgust, the Slytherin lowered his wand and turned to leave but froze with one hand on the wooden door.
Harry cringed as Draco glided towards the piano, hands balling into fists as the other wizard picked up the leather bound journal. Clutching the soft fabric of his cloak, he prepared to reveal himself should the other wizard attempt to leave with the book. His mouth fell open as the blond replaced the journal and rifled through his pockets. Humming in appreciation, Draco drew a silver flute from the cloth of his cloak and caressed the metal lovingly.
The blond raised the instrument to his lips and played several notes softly. It was the sudden tensing of his shoulders that warned Harry something was wrong. The way the blond allowed the flute to fall away from his lips in realization.
"What the hell?" Draco whispered, loosely holding the flute at his side as he examined the music carefully. Gaping, the blond flipped through several pages and shook his head in shock. He knew the melody recorded on that page. It had haunted and taunted him these past few weeks, beckoning and urging him on. "Where the hell did you come from?" He murmured, shaking his head in disbelief over his discovery. Sliding the flute back into his pocket, he picked the book up and spun toward the door, halting as he found his path blocked.
"That's mine." Harry said loudly, indicating the journal Malfoy clutched. His invisibility cloak was tucked under his arm, wand tip leveled at the blond's chest in warning.
In a quick movement, Draco had his own wand held lightly between his fingers, the sparking tip resting at heart level. "Finders keepers, Potter." He muttered, shuffling to the left in an attempt to get past the enraged Gryffindor.
"Give it to me, Malfoy!" The raven-haired wizard spat, not caring that his voice ricocheted off the ceiling and walls. A low mewing sound had him wincing and glancing at the crack of open door behind him. Standing coyly in the doorway, Mrs. Norris gave him a triumphant look before vanishing, her loud hisses and screeches rattling the portraits on the walls as she raced off to tell her master. "Dammit! Give me the bloody book, Malfoy!"
Sniffing, Draco slid the journal into his pocket and crossed his arms over his chest. "Prefect power, Potter. I'm not going to get in trouble but you most certainly will." The blond whispered victoriously, one hand caressing the cloth of his cloak pocket.
Harry lunged at the Slytherin, hands locking in the collar of Draco's shirt. Slamming into the floor, the blond gasped for breath while vainly swatting at Harry's searching hands. Hissing and swearing, the pair tumbled around the stone floor in the moonlight. Fingers tangling and knees banging together as they tried to gain the upper hand.
It was the sudden darkening of the room that froze the pair. Hands stilling as they slowly looked at the wall of glass windows. Rushing toward the panes, a shadow gained momentum with each hard flap of wings.
"Shite!" Draco hissed, eyes widening as he attempted to pull away from Harry's tensed form. Mouths opening on screams, the pair fell apart. Glass exploded and shattered. The curtains hanging beside the windows sweeping out on a gust of wind. Shards of broken window caught the moonlight, small hunks of wood clattering as they bounced off desks and walls. Puffing for breath, Draco dove into an instrument cupboard. Ignoring the creaking of protesting metal, he perched atop an unbalanced stack of instruments, fingers locked around the edges of the wood door to hold it closed.
Standing in the center of the room, a dragon settled its wings carefully. Scales hissed and grated as the animal swung its narrow head. The dragon gave a quiet barking call, dagger sharp teeth flashing as it tipped its muzzle. Its talons clicked on the stone as it turned slowly. Glass crunched as it inhaled deeply, shuffling uncertainly in place. Gold scales shone white as the beast tipped its head and focused one unblinking on the curtains drifting in the night breeze.
The door swung open suddenly, Filch standing centered in the doorway with Mrs. Norris resting at his heels. His mouth fell open at the sight before him and he gave a squeak. The dragon's wings unfurled with a snap, eyes glowing as it hissed and flicked its tongue in threat. Black coasted along the edges of its wings, a splash of shadow on the brightly coloured animal.
"Sandtongue." Draco mumbled in shock, watching as Filch stumbled back and slammed the door closed. The dragon appeared next to his hiding spot in a flash of movement. The horns on its nose appearing sharp as the animal slid the edge of its muzzle along the wooden door, pausing above Draco's curled fingers. Holding his breath, the blond prayed for a miracle.
The thud of something striking a wall on the opposite side of the room had him thanking Merlin. Shifting so he could see around the door, he watched as the gold dragon examined a chunk of wood excitedly. Eyes glimmering, the animal gave a delighted cry and raised its head. Crooning softly, the Sandtongue searched the room, wings drooping when the call went unanswered.
A bugling bellow rose in the distance, drawing the small dragon's attention. Barking a response, the animal considered the wood before scooping it up carefully and lunging toward the broken window. Wings opened with a snap as the dragon launched itself skyward, disappearing with a shimmer into the night.
Sliding from his hiding spot, Draco jumped when Harry appeared out of the shadows across from him. Without speaking or arguing, they both made for the door. Scrabbling at the handle before managing to swing the wood open and fall out into the hall. Breathing deeply, they leaned against the wall opposite the music room. The distance hum of voices had both jerking upright and dashing off down the hall, seeking the warmth and safety of their dorms and their beds.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who took the time to read and review!
Kanna-chii - I'm glad you like it!
NinjaoftheDarkness - It's gotta be the gas fumes or something. As soon as his foot touches the gas pedal it's like he becomes invincible. Poor me clutching the door handle while tugging my seat belt tighter in the passenger seat.
imakeeper - lol, I think we fanfic writers have forgotten that there have to be other aspects to wizarding history besides the Goblin Wars.
IvySnowe - Yeah, poor Draco and Harry is definitely on the right path.
keeper of most knowledge - If it were only so easy . . .to lay the pieces and connect the dots. Exhausting! lol, I think I deserve a cookie after killing off yet another of my characters.