The Two Musicians

Chapter 10: The Words in his Heart

By Silver Chessboards

"Hermione, you do know that you'll have to eventually tell him, don't you?"

She froze, her hand hovering in mid air, her fingertips lightly brushing the spine of the book she had been reaching for. She sighed and then removed the dusty book from the shelf before turning to face her bthat friend. There was a seriousness in his green eyes that startled her. She had not seen that look on his face since the war. She frowned at his vague question.

"Tell who?"

"Ron, about you and Malfoy."

"I—oh, I don't know Harry. I want to tell him, but I don't at the same time." The helplessness in her voice was evident. She hadn't a clue of how to tell Ron about her relationship with Draco. He would take it badly, she knew. Guilt consumed her every time she lied about a visit to the library. Ron would shrug and continue playing chess with Harry but the dark haired boy would sigh and give her a knowing look.

Harry's eyes softened and he said, "I'm sorry, Hermione. I really shouldn't be pressuring you into doing anything you—"

"It's not your fault, Harry. I'll tell him, but just not now alright?"

She just needed more time to pluck up the courage to tell him.

Yes, more time.

"Okay."

His footsteps made soft clicks on the floor as he walked over to the piano and seated himself. He lifted the wooden lid of the piano and brushed his fingertips over the ivory. He closed his eyes as a melody flowed out from his fingertips and onto the keys. This was a song that he had played many times as a child. It reminded him of golden days spent in the West Wing of the manor with his mother.

The dulcet tones of the piano echoed across the room. His long fingers stretched and moved gracefully over the keys, every move precise and perfect. His foot pressed the wooden pedal at the foot of the pianoforte, prolonging the clear, overlapping sounds. The last note died softly, leaving silence in it's stead. A deep sigh escaped him, and he closed his eyes.

He reached for a large black notebook beside him and opened it, its spine making a crackling noise. He flipped it open to a particular page and he scanned it with his eyes. He had transferred his composition into the notebook with a handy charm he had found in a dusty library book. Many pages had been inked in with horizontal lines and notes, some messily written and others precise and neat.

He was almost done.

A rare smile graced his features.

It was a cold morning when Hermione Granger first realised that she was falling in love with Draco Malfoy. They had been sat in the library with a comfortable silence between them. The castle had been almost empty as most of the students had gone to Hogsmeade.

Her quill made scratching noises as she moved her hand across the parchment. She paused, staring hard at a note. The parchment was filled with messy scrawls of notes, bars and ink smudges in several spots. The few sheets of parchment laid out in front of her were the work of a few months. She had not written many compositions and she wasn't very good at it but the one she was working on was definitely the best she had ever written. She had never felt so inspired before. She glanced up from her parchment to look at the blond sat across from her.

He was deeply absorbed in his book, his grey eyes flickering over the page. His blond hair fell over his eyes in a carelessly tousled manner and he was trying hard to suppress a smile. She felt the corners of her mouth turn upwards, his happiness was oddly contagious.

"What book are you reading?" she asked. He glanced up at her, his eyes lit with mirth and excitement.

"The Foolish Knight by Edward Hamington, it's hilarious honestly," he replied and grinned at her, showing her his pearly whites. His grey eyes shone with delight and she found herself holding her breath. His blond hair caught the light when he turned back to his book and she found herself exhaling shakily.

When he smiled at you, it felt like the ground had been pulled out from beneath your feet. It was frightening how his smile could unnerve her so. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest and hoped he couldn't hear it too.

"Are you feeling alright?" she looked up from her parchment to find him staring at her intently. His grey eyes met hers and she felt herself flush at the intensity of his gaze. She nodded, giving him a weak smile and he reached out a hand to feel her forehead.

"Are you sure, Hermione? You look a little flushed," the way he said her name made her heart skip a beat. His touch was cool against her skin and his voice surprisingly gentle.

"I-I don't think I'm feeling very well," she said, feeling very warm all of a sudden. She should get out of the library, away from him, yes that was a good idea. She stood and began to keep her writing materials away.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he frowned and stood.

"Oh, no—it's fine." she said softly, grabbing her satchel. He stood watching her and sighed, nodding.

"Okay," he said and sat back down. She smiled at him and then kissed him chastely on the lips before disappearing. Her lips tingled with warmth where it had brushed against his. As she walked out of the library, she unconsciously lifted a hand to her lips where she could still taste his minty breath.

She avoided him for a week after that morning in the library. She knew it was wrong of her to so suddenly ignore him and pretend he didn't exist but she couldn't help herself. It was too hard to face him so she didn't. She had never been in love before and the fleeting notions of being in love had only ever happened to her when she read a Jane Austen novel. Love to her, had always been the stuff of romance books and cheesy movies. Whenever she was around Draco, her thoughts would be a jumbled mess. She couldn't think properly enough to sort out the things in her mind and that was something that had never happened to her. She had never thought it would feel like this.

She needed time to think about it and to accept the fact that she was in love. Something that she thought would never happen to her. She had half expected to die with ten cats and a house filled with books. Draco didn't deserve the treatment he was receiving from her and she felt bad for doing so. She had written a letter to her mother, asking her about how she knew when she first fell in love with her father. The letter she received from the older woman was helpful, and she had also sent an unused journal along with it. In the letter, her mother told her to write out her feelings into the leather bound notebook for it would help her sort them out.

The next time she talked to Draco was when she happened to bump into him on the astronomy tower. She visited to have a brief talk with Professor Sinistra and had made her way down half of the lengthy staircase when she came across him. He reached out a hand to steady her when she stumbled. Her eyes met his and she momentarily forgot how to breathe. His gaze were penetrating and she had always felt like if she looked into then for too long, she would get lost.

She quickly averted her gaze to her books, which had slipped, from her grasp and onto the stone steps. She bent down to retrieve one of them and he helped pick up the other two. She bit her lip nervously, eyeing him. He looked terrible, she thought. His hair was as silky and blond as it had ever been but he looked thinner, like he hadn't been eating properly. There were noticeable bags under his stormy grey eyes. Was he sleeping well? She banished thoughts of his well being from her mind when she noticed how his eyes lowered to her lips for a split second before moving back to her face.

He passed her books to her and she took them, their fingers brushed against each other. There was a tingle of electricity but it happened so fast she wondered if it really had been there.

"Thank you," she mumbled and tried to move past him but he gently took her elbow, stopping her. She stopped and turned to face him, feeling rather guilty. She had been avoiding him for the past week and it was obviously confusing him to no end. She did not meet his gaze, feeling it boring into her. A shiver went up her spine when he raised a hand to rest it on the wall beside her head. She knew she wouldn't be allowed to leave without talking to him. He was so close she could feel his breath ghosting across her skin, raising goosebumps.

"Hermione," he said and she glanced at him before averting her gaze once more. She felt terrible to have avoided him without giving him an explanation. He gently cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face towards him. She avoided his steely gaze by concentrating on a spot behind him.

"Look at me," his voice was so soft she almost didn't hear him. Her gaze flickered to his before darting away. She couldn't.

"Please Hermione," he whispered, pleading. She silently accepted her inevitable fate and met his eyes. They were a familiar shade of grey and silver and she lost herself in them for a moment. Her eyes moved to the sharp angles of his face, from his chiseled jaw to the high bridge of his nose. His lips were a pale shell pink and cracked from the cold.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked, his voice pained. Her heart clenched at the tone of his voice, he sounded frustrated and confused.

"I needed time to think, Draco," her voice was raspy.

"About what?"

"Draco Malfoy," she paused and took a deep breath. It was inevitable, she knew. He would know eventually so there was no point in prolonging it. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

She had been avoiding him for the past week. It had started after that Saturday morning they had spent together in the library. He had first noticed her odd behaviour when she refused to look at him when they past each other in crowded hallways. This was odd as in the past whenever they happened to cross paths, their eyes would briefly meet and she would flash him a small smile.

She had stopped her visits to the lake as well as their music room, so his evenings were spent by the dim fire of the Slytherin common room, writing furiously in his journal and wondering if she would come around soon. She was odd, he thought. Things had been fine between them he found her sudden change of behaviour confusing. Was it something he did? Or perhaps something he said.

He had tried confronting her about it a few times but to no avail. He had a few classes with her but whenever the bell rang, signaling the next lesson, she would always be the first out of class. It was maddening, the way she was behaving and it confused him to no end. Another three days past and he found himself sat in front of the fire in the Slytherin common room, staring at the flickering warmth. The grandfather clock rang out twelve times, breaking the silence in the empty room. He heard footsteps stumbling down the stairs and did not acknowledge the presence of another until he felt the couch sag further underneath him with the weight of someone else.

"What is it Blaise?" he heard himself ask, not turning to look at the Italian.

"I couldn't sleep."

"How lovely," he mumbled before cracking open the spine of the journal on his lap. He turned to a fresh page and begun to write. He poured his feelings into the parchment with ink and the words in his heart. He wrote about her, it was all about her. When he finally looked up, it was when Blaise asked him a question and the clock's shorter hand had reached one.

"Who is it, Draco?"

The question rang through his head and he understood perfectly what Blaise was asking him but he feigned ignorance.

"Would you care to elaborate?" he said, shutting his journal with a snap.

"Don't play dumb, Draco. I know you well enough to know that there's a girl, so who is it? Or is it a bloke?" Blaise smirked and the blond scowled back.

"It's none of your ruddy business and you'd do well to keep out of it," he said coldly before he stood to head to his dorms. Later on he would regret being so callous to his friend but he would remind himself that regretting it would change nothing. It was a day later before he finally spoke to Hermione again.

It was a draughty day in the castle and he had been heading up the astronomy tower when he bumped into her. He reached out a hand to steady her when she stumbled. Her hair was windswept, messy but he found it endearingly so. Her eyes were wide with surprise when they met his and she tore her gaze away from his when her books tumbled down the steps. She bent down to pick up a blue leather bound volume and he collected the other two for her. As he stood, she glanced at him nervously and bit her lip. His eyes flickered to her lips briefly before he handed her books to her. Their fingers brushed for a moment and he felt a brief tingle of electricity at her touch.

She hugged the books to her chest and averted her eyes from him before mumbling a brief thank you. She moved past him and tried to make a quick escape but he stopped her by quickly grabbing her elbow. She stopped in her tracks before turning to face him, refusing to meet his gaze. She visibly flinched when he raised a hand to rest it on the wall, next to her head. He hadn't had the chance to properly talk to her and was determined not to allow her to leave too soon. She was nervous, he could tell and she was looking anywhere but at him.

"Hermione," he said and her eyes flickered to him before darting to a spot behind him. He was so close he could count the freckles spattered across the bridge of her nose and see the flecks of golden in her brown eyes. She was flushed, probably from the strong wind up in the astronomy tower. She seemed almost shy of him. He gently cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face towards him.

"Look at me," he whispered and her eyes met his for brief moment before moving away. When he spoke again, his tone was softer, almost pleading.

"Please Hermione."

This time she did, and his breath caught in his throat. No matter how many times he had looked into her eyes, he would never be able to memorise their beauty. They were a warm shade of brown but with a certain sadness in them that he could not understand.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" his voice sounded pained. She averted her eyes and he did not stop her.

"I needed time to think, Draco."

"About what?"

There was a moment of silence after he spoke.

"Draco Malfoy," she took a deep breath. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

It was abstruse and abrupt but beautiful at the same time. He stopped breathing for a moment and his heartbeat quickened to a staccato. No one had ever loved him before but his mother and even then, he did not know what love was. He had heard of it, in the hushed whispers of young girls and the Shakespeare books that Blaise kept hidden under his bed. It was supposed to be the quickening of a heartbeat, the tingle of electricity on skin and the butterflies in the stomach caused by the one you loved.

Hermione Granger loved him.

"What?" he heard himself ask her. She shook her head and turned to leave but he stopped her before she could. They stood in silence before he broke it.

"If you want time, I'll give you time," he said and leaned down to press a chaste kiss to her lips. Her lips felt soft and supple against his but he pulled away before he could savour the taste of her lips. She stared into his eyes for a moment before moving past him and making her way down the stairs. He closed his eyes and slumped against the sturdy wall of the tower.

He had never been a very patient person.

Another week passed in the same manner. She would occasionally glance at him and blush when he met her eyes. This reassured him, at least she wasn't completely ignoring him. Nights spent by the fire in the Slytherin common room with Blaise became comfortable. He had taken to talking to the Italian and conversations between them never broached subjects that Draco was particularly uneasy discussing with his friend.

But one evening, they did. Or at least, Draco did.

"What is love?" he mused, lost in thought.

"Have you ever been in love?" Blaise asked. It was such a simple question but one that Draco could not think of an answer to. Was what he had with Hermione something you could call love?

"How can I answer your question if I know not what love is?" he replied, amused at the turn their conversation was taking.

"Love, my friend, is a beautiful thing. If you love someone, you would be willing to give up everything for them. If you love someone, your mind would flood with thoughts of them and whenever you were around them, your stomach would fill with butterflies. The briefest touch from a lover would cause your heart to pound and..." Blaise continued talking excitedly, he was Italian and a romantic at heart. But Draco had heard enough. His eyes widened in realization.

"Merlin, Blaise," Draco said abruptly, cutting his friend off.

"What is it, Draco?"

"I think I'm in love," he said and fell back, slumping dejectedly. He hadn't a clue how long it would take Hermione to get over the fact that she was in love, with him no less. He felt the corners of his mouth lift and soon he was grinning like a fool. Hermione was in love with him. Draco sat up straight, his thought racing and clouding his mind. She didn't know that he loved her. He made up his mind to go and tell her immediately but when he glanced at the clock, he realised that it was past midnight and that she was probably asleep. He sighed and turned to his friend who was staring at him quizzically.

"Well?"

"What?" the blond raised an eyebrow.

"I never thought I'd see the day that you fell in love," the Italian grinned.

"Shut up," the blond said with no malice, unable to refrain from smiling. He threw a pillow at Blaise, which hit him in the face.

He stayed up late that night, writing in his journal and continuing his composition. Blaise had long gone to bed and only when the embers of the fire die out did he retreat to his dorms. His last thought was of her as he fell into a peaceful sleep.

Hermione Granger loved him.

Author's Note

I love my beta, I honestly don't know what I'd do without her. Reviews make me happy and make me type faster (I'm wondering if I can get twenty reviews for this chapter but that probably won't happen so never you mind). Thank you so much for reading!

- Silver Chessboards