The Two Musicians

Chapter 4: Sunlight

By Silver Chessboards

She was awake, but did not feel like opening her eyes. Her duvet smelled different and the bed was cosier than the one in her dorms. She slowly cracked open one eyelid and closed it. The colour of the duvet was different too, it was white whilst the one in her dorms were red. She snuggled deeper into the duvet, she didn't want to get up yet. She felt too comfortable in the bed. She turned on her side and opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was Draco Malfoy.

Asleep. In an armchair.

Many would've never thought they would awaken to such an unexpected sight. But then again, fate had it's own twisted way. She allowed her eyes to run over his form, curiosity bubbling inside of her.

His hair was mussed and his head was bent over slightly. His arms were rested atop the armrests and one of his legs were crossed over the other. He looked oddly peaceful in a way she had never seen him before. She frowned once she realised how uncomfortable the armchair looked. How did he manage to sleep in such a condition?

She felt a sharp twinge of guilt for having the bed to herself. She sat up, trying to remember how she had possibly ended up in a different bed. She lay back against the headboard and then she recalled the events of the previous day. She didn't remember how she had ended up in a different bed but that was the least of her worries.

Her brown eyes roamed over the unfamiliar surroundings. She was in a vast music room, a piano merely metres away from the bed. The music room had tall ceiling windows and were adorned with fine red velvet curtains which had been drawn back to allow light in. The floor was polished marble and there were several other instruments lining one wall. Looking back to the sleeping blond, she smiled at the sight of him. Lately, he seemed so...pleasant towards her.

She lay back in bed, closing her eyes. Perhaps she would sleep a bit more...

Draco Malfoy groggily cracked open an eyelid and then widened his eyes. He wasn't sure if he was still dreaming but Hermione Granger was asleep in a bed in front of him. His nose twitched and he closed his eyes, yes he had to be dreaming. After all, why would Hermione Granger be in his music room of all places?

He frowned, the surface he was lying down on was much harder and a lot more uncomfortable than his bed. He opened his eyes and sat straight up in what he assumed was an armchair. He wasn't in the Slytherin dormitories, but in the music room on the sixth floor.

He stood abruptly, looking at the girl asleep in the bed. Merlin, he was so tired. And her bed did look rather comfortable and soft...

He shook his head, he refused to invade her privacy. They hardly even knew each other! The events of the previous day flashed in his mind and he frowned. No doubt there would be questions. Questions that he did not want to answer. So what if he helped her? He had changed, although many people did not see it. He sighed, shaking his head to clear his erratic thoughts. It was still early, he didn't want to deal with such things at the moment.

His grey eyes roamed over her form. Merlin, he had never noticed how–dare he say it–pretty Granger looked in his seven years at school. Gone were the furrow between her brows when she studied and the bright smile she would have with her fellow Gryffindors around. She seemed so peaceful. Her large teeth had disappeared, how it did was a mystery to him. Heck, his eleven year old self probably wouldn't have recognised Granger at the age of eighteen.

He ran a hand through his blond locks and walked over to the grand piano.

When she awoke again, the first thing she realised was that someone was playing the piano. It was a slow piece of music, beautiful and serene at the same time. She smiled, turning over in the spacious bed. Her eyes landed on him.

He was seated in front of the grand piano, his long fingers gliding over the keys like water. Sunlight shone through the red velvet curtains and illuminated his pale locks. He seemed so peaceful and calm. She sat up in bed, careful not to make any noise so not alert him to the fact that she was awake. She never did remember how she got into the music room, but that didn't really matter. The song then ended, getting softer until the dulcet tones of the piano ceased to exist, silence replacing it. He stood, gently closing the lid of the piano and then turned to face her. He looked like he just awoke, with his hair mussed and his shirt crinkled. But then again, he had spent the night asleep in an armchair.

"How did I get here?" she asked him softly, looking at him.

"You fell asleep and I carried you here," he answered simply. She couldn't help but admire the way his grey eyes shone in the light, complimenting his pale blond locks that fell across his eyes.

"Oh..." She said, getting out of bed and walking over to the line of instruments lining the walls. Her eyes landed on several violins, all polished to a shiny finish. Each was as beautiful as the other, a warm brown. She turned to face Malfoy who was looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face. Her eyes were questioning if she could have a look at the violins.

"Go ahead," was all he said as he shrugged.

A smiled spread on her face and her eyes lit up as she carefully took the violin into her hands. Positioning the bow in her right hand, she slid the hairs of the bow across the strings. The sound that emitted was sweet and clear. Feeling delighted, she started playing a song. It was one of the songs she had heard her father play before on his violin. It was called Spring and she loved it.

The lovely sounds emitting from the violin were all around her, echoing off the white walls. It felt like a long time since she had last laid hands on a violin. She closed her eyes, allowing the music in her to flow out through her arm into the tips of her fingers. The song eventually ended, much to her dismay.

She returned the violin to it's spot on the wall and turned to face the man who had been watching her. His eyes were full of curiosity, looking at her as if he wasn't sure what exactly to say.

"Well, that was certainly impressive," he said softly as he walked over to her. Every step he took meant a step closer to her and Hermione felt her pulse quicken slightly as he came to stand in front of her.

But only slightly.

She waved the feeling off, telling herself that it was only because she was surprised, he walked rather fast.

"Lessons start in in forty minutes, Granger," he said before walking away from her and slipping out through the door. She snapped to her senses and followed his footsteps, catching up with his quick strides. She placed a hand on his shoulder, but only momentarily for he turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

"Do you mind if I, um..." she trailed off, unsure of how to speak her mind.

"Spit it out, Granger," he said with a smirk. She blushed.

"Do you mind if I visit the music room again? I like the–

"The violins," he finished her sentence for her. Pausing to think momentarily, he looked back at her, their eyes connected for a moment before he said, "It's a free country, Granger."

He started to turn when she said something that made him look at her.

"Thank you, Malfoy, for everything."

And then she smiled.

He felt a strange feeling grow inside of him when she smiled at him and walked off.

He didn't know why he was doing it. Why was he being so pleasant towards her? He had felt sorry for her when Weasley cheated on her, that much he was sure of. And he had helped her. But he hadn't any idea where it would lead from there. She certainly wasn't crying anymore nor did she need to be comforted. So why had he told her that she was free to visit his music room whenever she felt like it? In the past, they never did acknowledge each other, choosing to ignore the other's presence. But that was in the past. He wasn't sure what to think anymore.

Were they friends?

Or nothing?

It felt strange in a way, for only last year he had disliked her immensely and she him. But now, it felt surreal that they were actually being pleasant towards each other.

He knew he didn't hate her anymore.

Nor did he like her.

He didn't want to hate anyone, not anymore. It took too much energy and time to hate someone. Hate ate you up from the inside. And over time, your heart would shrivel up and turn black. And he didn't want that.

He was certain that he wasn't prejudiced anymore. He had changed after the war, he had matured. As a child he had been ignorant, choosing to believe the rubbish that his father had told him. Bit the war had taught him many things. The blood spilled over stone during the battle had been proof enough for him that blood was all the same. His blood was just as red as anyone else's. He had learned it the hard way, everyone was equal regardless of blood status.

But he wasn't sure what to think about Granger.

This...budding friendship between them felt abnormal to him. But not in a bad way. It was just strange.

He sighed, running a hand through his blond locks. He started walking, his footsteps swift across the marble. He needed time to think.

A week passed. He didn't see her around much. They would pass in the halls, spare a glance and walk off like nothing had happened. He didn't mind, of course. He and Granger weren't best of friends after all. He had heard that things between her and Weasley were still rough and she refused to speak to him at all. She was obviously angry of course. Heck, he would have been angry too if the person he had been dating cheated.

Weasley was a bastard.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He hadn't the time to think of Potter and his friends. He had things to do. Lessons were over for the day, he had completed his homework earlier in the Slytherin common room. He was on the sixth floor, once again. He was headed to the music room, his steps quick on the stone. When he arrived, he pushed open the wooden door. It swung open silently and he slipped inside, not making a sound. It was rather bright inside and he could hear noises, the scratching of a quill against parchment.

Granger was seated at the desk in the corner, pouring over homework with a stack of large books beside her. Her brown locks shone a brighter shade in the light that streamed through the ceiling windows, still as bushy as ever. She had tied her hair up in a high ponytail at the back of her head, exposing her long neck. The roll of parchment she was writing on had already reached the floor. The sweat on her brow glistened in the sunlight. He smirked, she still loved studying.

He slowly stepped in, careful not to distract her from her work. Apparently she still hadn't noticed him. He took a few steps towards the piano and then she glanced up from her work. Surprise morphed into her features, her brown eyes wide.

"Good evening, Granger," greeted her.

She bit her lip.

"The library was too noisy to study in," she explained shortly, averting her attention back to her work as he nodded in comprehension.

He gently lifted the lid of the piano, seating himself in front of it. Slowly but surely, he began to play a soft melody. He had always liked calm piano pieces that were beautiful and serene. It seemed natural to him as the sounds that the piano emitted were more suited for classical pieces rather than jazz. He was aware of the bright light shining across his figure and casting a shadow on the floor but he paid it no heed as he played the piano. He slowly shut his eyes, knowing the keys by heart.

His fingers skimmed over the fine ivory keys, each note clear and sweet. The sounds of the multiple keys overlapped beautifully. He kept his foot on the pedal at the bottom of the piano, occasionally lifting it. He could still hear Granger's quill scratching on her parchment and smirked, goodness she never did stop studying did she?

The song softened and then came to an end. His cracked his knuckles and closed the piano, turning to face Granger who was immersed in her work. She looked up at him and said, "That was beautiful."

He felt himself redden slightly at her words. His parents had never complimented his piano skills and he was used to no comments on his playing at all. But having someone who had only listened to him play a few times and complimenting it was flattering.

"Thank you," he said simply as he walked towards her, pulling out the chair beside hers and seating himself in it. He had finished his homework so there was nothing much to do except try to write his piece. He retrieved it from his satchel and smoothed it out on the table, he was almost done with the first page and Merlin, he felt rather proud of himself.

"Could I have a look?" he heard her timidly ask. He turned to look at her, their eyes met. He had never noticed that her eyes were such a warm shade of brown, he had always thought her eyes had been darker, a dull shade of brown bordering on black. He nodded, passing it to her. Their fingers brushed slightly and he felt a jolt of electricity but it was gone as soon as it happened so he shrugged it off, telling himself it was nothing.

She was looking at his piece with concentration, her eyes skimming across the parchment. He waited, wondering if she thought it was alright. She looked back to him as she passed it to him.

"It's good," it's all she said.

He couldn't help but feel a small burst of happiness. It wasn't because it was her who said the compliment. It was the compliment itself, just those two words.

He kept a calm expression but his eyes said it all.

The feather of his quill made quick jerking movements as he wrote the notes, careful to draw each one perfectly to the complete black of the notes. He had been writing his piece for quite a while and he was aware of the fact that Granger was watching.

"A D would be better than a F," she said in a soft voice, looking at him. The sky had darkened considerably to a light violet. She hadn't any idea of the time, but that didn't matter for she had no one waiting on her and she was free. He nodded, his quill scratching against the parchment. Occasionally their eyes met, they were a light shade of stony grey with a hint of silver in their depts. She used to think his eyes were blue.

"Really now, Granger? Blue?"

She hadn't realised she was thinking aloud. She flushed.

"Well, yes. How much did I say?"

"Just that you used to think my eyes were blue," he said, smirking in amusement.