Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Chapter 20 - Piano To Crescendo
The tree released its yellowing leaf, and it fell gracefully down onto the gravel. Once it had settled the wind picked it up and moved it closer to the cobble stones. It did not have time to settle before a pair of size sevens pushed it hard against the rock.
"I am not suggesting you write about the differences between muggle harps and magical ones, but if you do I happened to have played the harp for two years. It was a few years ago, of course. I was learning how to play the violin at the same time, though, that is why I had to give it up."
Malfoy walked with small steps next to her.
"I never played."
"The harp?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? Not even the piano? Everyone plays the piano."
Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm clearly not everyone then."
"It's easy to learn, I believe that is the reason most people try to learn the piano first. It's sort of elemental to understanding notes and scales."
"My mother plays the piano." His hands were deep in his coat pockets. Hers were moving about as she spoke.
"I guess you have one at home then. Is it a magical or a mu..."
"Magical." He pursed his lips.
"Why do you not write a compare and contrast essay about magical and muggle pianos then?" She smiled up at him, eyes blazing.
Draco nodded. The corner of his lips curled up into a small smile.
Hermione could not help but to look at how his eyes grew smaller when he smiled, arching instead of drooping. The bags under his eyes seemed almost pale in comparison to his usual dark circles.
"I remember one time, back at the manor." he started, as she watched his face soften at the memory. "I must have been 7 or 8 at the time. It was probably middle of summer, during the driest period, because I remember mother yelling at me for being outside without uttering a sun protection charm in front of her. Mother was playing this beautiful overture one day. It was warm and almost sticky inside since she had opened all the doors to the garden. She told me to sit next to her and press one of the white keys while saying 'crescer flor'e'."
"A Grow-flowers charm?"
"It must have been, because when I looked over the lid I could see the flowers sprouting and flourishing before my very eyes."
"That sounds beautiful."
Draco nodded, watching the colorful landscape while they walked.
When Hermione reached the greenhouse she propped the door open so Malfoy could make it through the slim door.
"Want to start with 'reparo' on the windows?" She asked, pulling her sleeves up over her elbows.
He gestured with his hand, "After you." Followed by taking out his wand.
They began the tedious work on the many windows in silence. Memories flooded their minds, however they seemed like happy memories when compared to the memories remembered last time they were here. Nevertheless, the work was quite the handful. Although they both worked better than most, it was even a little much on them.
"I need to take a break." Hermione finally mumbled, when they were almost done with the first side.
Draco stopped as well and sat down on one of the stools by the shrubs. Granger soon followed.
Hermione closed her eyes. Every muscle was aching and the fatigue was coming on strong. She wanted to ask if they could finish the green house on their next clean up, but that would not be proper, she thought. In mere internal frustration she stroke her arm with the scar. It had become a habit of sorts.
Draco glanced down at the witch now sitting beside him. She was rubbing her scar absentmindedly, and his initial reaction was to panic.
With his breathing much too fast, suddenly moving about Hermione noticed something was wrong. Blinking up at him in surprise she noticed how he refused to look at her.
That's when it hit her. He felt uncomfortable with her scars. Her heart sank deeper than a rock in the Great Lake.
She hastily pushed her robes back down and turned away from the uncomfortable man. Her face was burning. What for, one might ask. To her, her scars were not only a sign of her own weaknesses but also a proof of damage; She felt shame and embarrassment. Exposing herself to anyone did not happen often. And when it happened, it wasn't welcomed. She understood this, she knew why.
Draco sat as if on needles. He needed to say something, but didn't know what. Whatever he would say would probably do more harm than healing! He was biting his cheek. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, you don't have to say anything." She mumbled, still pulling on her sleeves.
"Okay." He didn't feel relieved. He knew he had to make her understand. He knew this was all his fault. He had caused this. He was the one to blame for those magical scars forming that hideous word now etched to her skin.
Yet he couldn't say anything. His guilt was eating him from the inside out. A feeling he was rather used to by now. However now it was directed at a single person.
Hermione could not take it any longer and stood up to start working on the windows again. This time around her powers had drained, almost as if they had evaporated the moment he had noticed her hidden secrets.
Draco watched the witch work, and he couldn't help but admit to her strength. He realized then, at that very moment, that he admired her. Granger, the woman of endless torment, torture and struggle, refused to ever give up and continuously kept on pushing through life. How easy wouldn't it have been for her to give up, give in, or even just tone down her intensity level. It seemed impossible for her though, and it was incredible and rather unbelievable.
He snapped out of it and decided to join her. He could feel her low energy and pushed extra hard on the pieces they worked on together. He didn't want her to notice how she was performing, because given the circumstances she was still performing better than anyone would be in her place!
Working in such intensity they soon finished, and stepped back to view their work.
"We can do the other side on Monday." Draco voiced.
Hermione didn't say a word, a bit too wrapped up in her own emotions. Instead she followed him in his steps as they walked out of the green house. She did not know quite what to do with herself. The feeling of nakedness washed over her and she wished to hide away from the situation.
The fresh air hit them square across their cheeks. Both pulled their robes closer to their bodies in hope to guard themselves against the intensifying cold. Autumn was harsh with its fluctuating temperatures.
At least the sky is clear, Hermione thought and watched the stars as they walked across the grounds.
Draco could not hold it in any more, finally grasping the courage to speak up. "I meant it." He began, and Granger looked at him. Was it worry he saw in her dark eyes? "When I said I was sorry, I meant it."
"You don't have anything to apologize for." She mumbled and put her arms around herself.
"I do. It was in my home. I could have done something. I could have told her to stop!"
Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. "That's what you are apologizing for?"
"It's my fault." His voice was a little too high. "If I had told them Potter was someone else, then maybe Bella..."
A small hand stopped him.
With disbelief written all over her face she held on to his arm. "That is not your fault Malfoy. You did everything you could that day. What she did to me can never be on your conscience." She was staring at him, emotions on high alert. "Should never be on your conscience. Please tell me they are not."
The silence that followed, and the averted gaze was all the answer she needed. "I thought you felt uncomfortable with my scars, not felt responsible for them!" She blurted out, blatantly stating the obvious.
"Why would I feel uncomfortable with your scars for any other reason?" His voice was short and sharp. "I too have plenty of them myself. You out of everyone should know that." His face was cold and hard, reflecting the weather.
"It was not the first time you used such antics then."
"Was there a question in that statement?"
Knowing what she needed to say in response she smiled slightly, yet with a sort of softness and spoke lowly. "Just stating the obvious, as usual."
He tried hard not to smile back, but failed. As small children they felt feather light inside, standing outside in the cold winds smiling at their inside joke.
"In all seriousness, though," Hermione begun, not breaking eye contact. "You should stop that."
His smile slowly fell, and his eyebrow rose. "So should you."
"I'm aware of that. Although, I must admit I did so mostly because I was tired." Hermione stopped to take a deep breath. Sharing was hard for her to begin with. "So very tired." She shook her head slowly. "I wanted to get rid of the writing she cursed me with. I tried everything, creams, charms, you name it, yet nothing worked. I got... Desperate." Hermione was poking the ground with the tip of her boots.
Draco's face twitched. In this very moment he felt an urge to comfort, but did not know how. He was not used to any kind of emotionally related physical contact, yet felt as if maybe that is the kind she needed. His hand lifted half way, and almost touched her shoulder before it fell.
He closed his eyes and sighed, for he knew the feeling all too well. "Magical scars cannot be removed. Not even if you try to carve them off, as it turns out." Draco's face looked emotionless when he snorted, his face still cold and hard as the winds stirring around them.
Hermione's eyes flicked to his. The furrow to her brow ever so visible.
Draco's face fell when he saw her expression. Then he smiled to the point where his skin created small creases by his eyes. He reached out his hand towards her face and pressed the worry-wrinkle between her brows with his long finger. "You're doing it again."
Hermione tried to pull back. "For a damn good reason!" She pushed his hand away.
"Why are you getting angry, woman! It's not as if I was trying to kill you, I just poked you."
"I'm angry because I just found out you have been carving at your skin, yet you're refusing to talk about it!"
He felt his last bit of patients escape his body. How had this conversation turned so quickly? "What is there to talk about? I can relate to you, and you to me. That's it."
Hermione softened. She realized he wasn't used to talking about himself, much less his hardships, alike herself. She sighed and took a calming breath before asking what she actually wanted to know. "Why would you do something like that?"
Draco leaned his head back in pure frustration. "Can we go inside. Please."
Hermione bit her tongue. She was crossing some kind of line. She got the notion that if she crossed this there was no turning back. It didn't take her long to decide which path to take.
"No."
Draco stopped. He wasn't used to anyone disagreeing with him, and certainly not telling him no.
Hermione crossed her arms. "We can go inside once you tell me why."
He looked at her, bemused. "If I tell you, we walk?"
"Simple, is it not?"
Draco pursed his lips. "I wanted to get rid of the mark. Now can we walk?"
Hermione took a moment to smile at him. "Thank you, for telling me."
He made a face. "Yes yes, let's just go." He took a few steps while looking at her.
She bulged and walked up next to him. They moved in a sort of comfort one has after sharing something deeply personal. It felt as if they both still needed to delve deeper into the conversation, yet neither knew quite how.
Walking across the school grounds deemed harder than they thought with the winds blowing criss-cross the hills. One foot crossing the next to counterbalance the strong air loudly soaring around them.
"It feels a lot like this." Draco yelled eventually. "Looking at the mark makes me feel like these winds." He laughed sadly.
Hermione was struggling to keep up with him. She wished to tell him he wasn't alone in this feeling, but almost tripped while walking up the hill.
Malfoy was quick to hold her back up. Once she was back on her feet he had to let her go; He wanted to ensure her he could catch her, but the pain he felt when they touched wouldn't let him. He couldn't catch her; His inner winds too strong to let him care for another person's winds, physical nor mental.
"Thank you!" she said when they finally reached the school. She shivered slightly still, the warmth not yet reaching under her skin.
Draco nodded slightly.
"Dorm?" She asked.
"Dorm." He replied.
Hermione was enjoying a nice meal of corn dogs and mashed potatoes when she felt the burning tingle from the badge on her chest. Dressed in her casual clothes, since it was Saturday and all, she had placed the little pin in her chest pocket. When she realized the implication she rushed out of her seat and ran. Faster than she thought possible she reached the corner of the library.
A group of people were chatting away and Hermione frantically looked for the person who had summoned her. Eventually a girl noticed her presence and waved for her to come forward before turning to the others. "Hey guys, she's here now!"
All chatter seized and their heads were turned to her.
At that moment Draco rounded the corner with his breath caught in his throat.
The group of prefects watched the two stressed and worried faces now waiting for them to speak. Waiting for them to tell them why they had been so very urgently summoned.
Considering why they were there they all felt apprehensive to speak up. After some hushed whispered a short prefect stepped forward.
"We have been talking" she began slowly, and looked back at her peers. "And there's been a lot of requests from all houses..." The group was making eyes at her to go on when she yet again looked back for confirmation. "To have some sort of... Yule ball, before the break."
Silence.
"A ball." Hermione said slowly. "That is why you summoned us?" She blinked, as she felt the rage rising. "You had us rush half way across the castle," she paused, trying to understand herself. "to tell us you want a ball."
"A Yule ball..." the girl quietly confirmed.
In desperate attempt at keeping her composure she closed her eyes.
Draco watched in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how stupid you are all acting? These pins are for emergencies only! Did we not make that clear?"
"We thought this..."
"You thought wrong!" He yelled, staring at the group. In the corner of his eyes he could see Granger still having her eyes closed. Not having more of their nonsense he grabbed her arm and pulled her away. Stumbling slightly she soon followed his quick steps.
Until she stopped.
The two had already reached the staircase when she decided she needed to address the issue. "Stay here, I will be right back."
Draco looked at her in frustrated disbelief. As he watched her walk back he yelled after her. "You better yell at them!"
Hermione rounded the corner the second time around, this time in much less of a hurry. The group of prefects were still standing in the same spot making Hermione's work easier.
"Listen to me." All sounds seized to exist in a heartbeat. "A Yule formal or a Yule dance, not a Yule ball; That is what it will be called. Yule balls are held during Triwizard tournaments." She looked at them in annoyance. "You will need to set up a Yule committee, and that as soon as possible. I will require at least one person, not prefect, from each house to attend for it to be valid. I will speak to McGonagall once you hold your first meeting. Do it soon, it's already mid October." She turned on her heel and began her quick steps back to Malfoy. "Oh, and to make things clear. You will speak to me, not summon me for anything like this ever again. You are not children, stop acting as such!"
"Did you hear? Hermione?"
She looked up from her book in annoyance, for she did not enjoy being interrupted while reading.
Lavender seemed to be sitting on a very uncomfortable seat, because she kept on moving about on her chair. "About the ball, did you hear about it?"
She rose an eyebrow at the girl. "I believe it will be called a dance. Or formal. They have not yet decided on which."
Lavender did not break her ecstatic smile, but faltered a little in her eyes as Hermione corrected her. "I hope Ron will take me!"
Hermione sighed. "Why do you not ask him?"
Lavender giggled, as if she had waited for the question. "That's not proper!" She slapped Hermione's shoulder softly.
"Then what are you waiting for? For him to ask you? Don't get your hopes up. Speaking from experience he will not make a huge effort to do so." Hermione pursed her lips at the memory. That bastard.
Lavender huffed and quickly rose to her feet, pushing the small plate of breakfast she had in front of her. "Just cause he didn't ask you it doesn't mean he won't ask me. He can be very romantic when he wants to be!"
Hermione snorted and went back to her book while taking a bite out of her buttered toast.
Lavender nearly gasped before turning to leave.
"Thank Merlin she left, I already had a headache as it was! Don't need her squeaky noise to a voice in my ear this early to add to it!" Ginny sighed.
All Hermione could muster was a knowing nod.
Ginny squinted her eyes. "He's really rubbing off on you."
At first Hermione couldn't quite figure out what she meant. The nod, she thought. "Since when did you become so observant."
Ginny grinned. "Since when did you become so sassy?"
She smiled. "He must be rubbing off on me."
Ginny laughed so breadcrumbs flew across the table.
"Who's rubbing off on you? Do you have a boyfriend? Why have you not told me? Who is it?" Harry sat down next to Ginny, followed by a barely awake Ron with gushing Lavender. Harry's face was skewed with worry.
Ginny put her hand on his arm. "Always jumping to conclusions."
"Don't worry Harry, I do not. You two would be the first to know if I ever did."
Harry shrugged and mumbled. "I just worry is all."
Hermione, suddenly in a much better mood, smiled sincerely at the man she called her brother.
Roger Davies, now seemingly a part of the posse, sat down and clapped Hermione hard on her back. Had she been choking she would have been saved. Now, it just felt like breaking a lung. "You missed the party of the century last night!"
Ginny quickly met her eyes. "I completely forgot! Next time you should come along."
"It's okay, I'm not much for parties."
Roger Davies laughed as he sat down next to her, ruining her good mood with his mere presence. "No surprise there!"
"Saving yourself for the ball then?" Lavender winked.
"Formal." She corrected. "And for your information, I had not given it much thought. I'm not much for parties. Period. There is no reason behind it other than me finding it a waste of time. Dancing, on the other hand though, I do enjoy, so of course I too will be enjoying the Yule formal. But, I would not call it saving myself for it, no." Hermione took a deep breath, and the others seemed to do the same. "Now, if you excuse me, I have to go study for next week's DADA exam. So should you." Hermione gave them a stern look.
Davies sighed noisily. "It's stuff we already know."
"I can assure you it is not." Hermione cut him short. "It's about the theory behind the motions of the unforgivables. We have never studied them this closely."
"Apart from when we had to do them." Silence fell upon the group. It was the painful sort of silence, the kind you don't know how to break. Much less how to handle.
"I will be in the library." Hermione mumbled and hurried off.
Her memories brought her to her own torture. Her memories brought her to fourth year classes. Her mind brought her to her friend's memories.
She knew they had all had to cast crusius at the lower levels, forced by the Carrows. The internal pain one must feel when hurting another person must be equally painful as that of the one receiving it, Hermione thought. Living with such deeds can only do hardships to the soul. She wish she could talk to them about this, hear their stories, tell them it's okay. But one can never say it's okay, because it never will be. It's understandable, and worth forgiveness, she thought instead.
As her steps were taking her to the library she continued to think about the last year of school her fellow classmates had to endure. It must have been so cold, so hard, and so very scary. Needless to say, so was being on the run and searching and destroying hurcruxes. However, Hermione often wondered what it had been like for those staying at the school. Fear and hopelessness, were all she could imagine. Much like how their situation in the woods were like, she concluded.
Once she entered the stillness of the large library she immediately felt at ease. Here she did not have to worry, be on alert, ready for battle. Here she could disconnect her thoughts and delve into knowledge instead. How wonderful it felt to let go of the constant anxiety eating her from the inside out.
A lovely Sunday morning spent in the library. How she longed for her favorite seat at the back of the library.
In her seat however, she spotted a blond set of hair seemingly deep in thought it was leaned over his book in his hands. Her seat.
AN: Hello,
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