CHAPTER 23

A/N: The song 'Legends Of The Fall' belongs to James Horner, who composed the soundtrack for the film of the same name.

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Harry realised with a twinge of amusement that his second piano lesson would be on Halloween. It would not to submit Snape to nightmarish music. Eager to practise on the piano, Harry went to the second piano room on Monday night after correcting essays and a Snape-less Duelling lessons with his students. On reaching his destination, he was greeted by a portrait of a man wearing an enormous wig. He looked sceptically at Harry.

"This is new," he remarked, scooping out a monocle from some unseen region underneath the frame and scanning Harry, "usually, it is only the Potions Master or the piano tuner who come in here; and on rare occasions, the Headmaster."

"I'm the Potions Master's new piano student," Harry answered respectfully.

The man's eyebrows shot up in amazement.

"I suppose there is a first time for everything," he commented. "Password?"

"Amadeus," Harry said.

The man inclined his head gracefully (the wig wobbled perilously at this point) and the door opened.

Harry went inside and closed the door behind him.

The piano in this room was not as elaborate as the other one; it did not have so many carvings, but it was clear at first sight that it was a beautiful instrument and of excellent quality. It was well cared for, dust-free and polished.

"Trust Severus to have a high-calibre instrument in here," he murmured appreciatively.

He looked at it for a few moments and touched it reverently. He carefully opened the lid, spread a few music sheets and sat down. He felt odd doing this all alone with no one to tell him whether he was playing correctly or not. There was no magic involved, either; the notes and piano were not enchanted, although his surroundings were.

He straightened his glasses and started playing. The piano had an amazing sound which filled the large room entirely. Harry stopped to listen until the last tones had faded away before resuming. He practised conscientiously, reminding himself whenever he grew impatient that he was determined to live up to both his and Snape's standards. He found it difficult to keep his hands and fingers in a certain position instead of just pressing any key with a random finger. He also had to coordinate between using his hands for the keys and his feet for the pedals. Fortunately, good coordination was crucial in Quidditch, Duelling and many other things, and it proved useful. Harry was shocked when he realised that he had been in the room for nearly two hours: it was eleven o'clock and he was very tired after his packed day. When he left the room, he could have sworn that he had just seen the hem of a black robe or cape vanishing around the corner.

Harry turned to the portrait.

"Was…anyone…outside while I was playing inside?" he asked.

The man gave him a sly smile.

"It's quite possible," he responded evasively and began to snooze, thus signalling his wish to discontinue the conversation.

Harry's stomach squirmed at the thought of Snape interrogating the portrait or even using a spell to listen to his playing through the solid door.

"What a Slytherin," he whispered with a laugh.

Halloween arrived – this time without any major incident to terrify the students and staff. Harry fully enjoyed stuffing himself with Halloween goodies and playing games with his fellow-teachers. Snape looked on with an expression of utter boredom, which, however, slowly disappeared as nine o'clock approached – the time for Harry's piano lesson. The two teachers excused themselves and went together to the third floor. Harry was nervous although he had practised every day, as Snape had told him he should. He smoothed a few wrinkles out of his robes.

"Er – which room?" Harry asked Snape.

"You'll see," Snape responded curtly. Peeves passed them on the way, emitting a resounding burp. Snape ignored him while Harry looked disgusted.

"Peeves has his own ideas of music, Potter," Snape remarked wryly, noticing Harry's expression. Harry guffawed.

Snape shot him an exasperated glare as he led him to the quarters which housed the piano and harpsichord.

"So. Let's see how much you have learnt. Or not learnt. Thrill me with your talents," Snape said, his voice dripping with liberal sarcasm. He sat down in the corner while Harry occupied the seat at the piano and began to spread out the music sheets. Snape, however, used a Summoning charm to make them fly towards him.

"By heart, Potter."

"You didn't say that last time!" Harry exclaimed indignantly.

Snape sneered.

"If you haven't practised properly, then you are bound to feel a little…uneasy without them," he said, fiddling idly with a strand of long black hair. "Before you torture my ears, I want to know how well or badly acquainted you are with the keys."

Snape proceeded to test him on the note names of the keys. Harry did not make a single mistake. When Snape was satisfied, he usually didn't say anything. Harry knew he had passed the test when Snape announced:

"I want to hear the first score."

I want to hear solid piano-playing from you next Saturday.

Harry braced himself as he recalled Snape's stern words.

"I am waiting, Potter."

Harry dared not say that this remark was not very conducive for a beginner. Instead, he searched his mind for what he had learnt during the past days and made the memories flow down to his fingers and into the keys. It was a very quick exercise; however, he steeled himself for a reprimand from Snape.

"Sixth exercise, Potter," the exigent wizard continued their lesson.

Harry obeyed and looked round at Snape when he had completed the exercise.

"Now, Potter, the Music Master-"

"Who?"

"Don't interrupt me!" Snape snapped.

"Sorry."

"The man on the portrait of the room in which you practised – he insists on being referred to as the Music Master. He has informed me that you were valiantly trying to play a coherent piece of music last night."

Harry shifted on his chair. Besides having Snape hovering around in front of the room to make sure that he did not wreck the piano, he had assumed that the portrait would provide Snape with feedback. Correctly, apparently.

"Uhm, well, it's called 'Legends Of The Fall', it belongs to a soundtrack of the movie of the same name. I can only play a few chords, nothing much."

"I would like to hear it just the same."

Harry nodded somewhat reluctantly. He drew on as much self-confidence as he could and started. He managed to play the basic melody, without additions and adornments. It was most likely deplorably simple and banal for Snape. Snape was silent for a few moments after Harry had finished. Then he moved his chair next to Harry.

"Please play it again," he said.

His face softened, becoming less stern and arrogant as Harry repeated the melody. And then, incredibly, he smiled.

"You have a feel for the music – a natural feel, like you have for Quidditch, Potter. You touch the instrument with respect. You feel what you play. Tell me, did you have the sheet music when you played this?"

"No, I just kind of tried finding the correct combination of keys and corresponding hand positions. I played it by ear at first."

"It is important for a piano player to show initiative, Potter. That is what you did."

Harry flushed a little with pleasure.

"Wow…Uh...Thanks. That's extravagant praise."

Snape raised his eyebrows.

"We're not yet over, Potter. Let's see if you can play without sight."

"Not the scarf again!"

"I am afraid so, Potter. You tend to stare too much at the keys. You'll want to look up from time to time to interact with the audience."

"Did you wash the scarf?" Harry asked jokingly.

"Naturally, Potter," Snape barked, standing up and tying the scarf around Harry's head.

This time, Harry needed several attempts to discover the right keys. Snape was behind him, his presence making Harry's heart speed up by several beats. Now and then, he would stoop over Harry, his long heavy hair brushing Harry's ear or neck, and direct Harry's hands. Finally, Harry was able to play the song without Snape's intervention.

Snape freed him from the blindfold.

"Happy Halloween, Severus!" Harry exclaimed triumphantly, sweeping the keys with a flourish; the piano rumbled frighteningly.

"POTTER!" Snape snarled, "THAT PIANO-"

"Come on, let's boogie doooown," Harry sang out.

Snape shook his head, grabbed Harry's shoulder and forced him down onto the seat.

"Childish boy! You are a teenager after all! Impossible!" Snape hissed crossly, resuming his own seat next to Harry with a furious glint in his eyes.

"So, and now, we are going to play together, recalcitrant brat."

Harry was completely unfazed by Snape's reprimands and simply smiled at him, giving him a deep look from his green eyes. A faint flush tinged Snape's gaunt cheeks. He turned his face away, looking through the sheets of music until he found an adequate piece of music. Harry was enjoying the lesson a lot. His week had been tiring but rewarding – and The Daily Prophet had been remarkably quiet about him, preferring to address the issue of updating and improving the Floo network – a reason why Harry had had to take the Knight Bus, since Hogwarts had been having its network redone at the start of the term. And he was falling in love. With Severus Snape. The man was the embodiment of a million contradictions and was becoming increasingly attractive and appealing to Harry as the days flew by. On the other hand, he was not immune to a certain stab of pain and sadness. He knew that Snape was sexually interested in him – the incident after their movie-watching, their dancing together and walking home blindfolded with only Snape's hand to guide him – it all made sense. But love? He glanced at the uncompromising profile of the wizard next to him, at the keen black eyes, the condescending nose and thin mouth; his hope threatened to evaporate along with his joy. What chance did he have? he wondered melancholically. When the lesson was over, Harry was so distracted with the beauty of the music and the mystery called Severus Snape that he walked into the wall.

"Potter? Are you feeling fine?" Snape's voice caressed his ears from behind.

"Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Was just sort of lost in my thoughts," Harry muttered, straightening his spectacles.

"Well, are you coming?" Snape asked impatiently, holding the door open.

Harry felt thoroughly ashamed as he appreciated another decidedly naughty meaning behind Snape's question.

"Yeah, I am," he replied, quickly stepping out of the room.

Snape shut the door and warded it.

"By the way, will you be coming to The Burrow for Christmas?" he asked casually.

Snape gave him a derisive stare.

"No, I am not."

"Weren't you invited?"

"I was, but I have other duties which are more pressing."

Harry felt strongly tempted to ask abut the nature of the duties. Naturally, he wisely chose to forgo the question.

"Maybe you could come to Grimmauld Place after Christmas for a few days. For New Year, you know."

Snape passed his index finger across his lip.

"Are you inviting me to spend time with you in that crumbling house, Potter?"

"It has been done up completely. You should see it."

"Will anyone else be there?"

"Dobby will be there, he has insisted on leaving Hogwarts in order to take care of the house and myself during Christmas. I couldn't dissuade him, and when I told him that I could look after myself, he began to cry."

Snape studied Harry warily before saying:

"Very well, I will indulge your ego and spend a few days at your decrepit shack."

Harry bit back a grin at Snape's rudeness.

"Great."

"Good night, Potter. I am pleased with your progress."

"Thank you, Severus. Do you want some sunflower seeds?"

"Some more birdfeed?" He moved away from Harry with a snort and walked down the corridor with an imperial air.

"Ha! I made you stay. At least – when the Christmas break arrives, that is," Harry muttered to himself with a grin, stuffing the packet of seeds back into his pocket.

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