The Two Musicians

Chapter 12: Parchment

By Silver Chessboards

A month later

Hermione ran her fingers over the polished wood, marvelling at the beauty of it. She had been looking through her chest for something when she came across it. She had not picked up her violin for a while and it had started to collect dust. She blew at the surface of the wood and sneezed as dust motes surrounded her in a flurry before drifting away. She sniffed before balancing it on her shoulder and dragging her bow over the fine strings. A high note rang out in her room and she smiled before putting it down. She would play her violin later, for now she had things to do.

She dropped to her knees and scanned the mess surrounding her. She had dug out the things in her chest and they were strewn around her in an unorganised mess. She was looking for the composition she wrote, the one Malfoy mentioned in his journal. She had thrown things on the floor whilst looking for it but her search had been in vain. She sat down and crossed her legs, thinking hard.

If I wrote a composition where would I keep it?

She got down on all fours and peered underneath her bed. Sure enough, there was a wooden box there. She dragged it out and opened the lid to reveal its contents. There was nothing in it other than a few sheets of parchment lying at the bottom. Her eyes scanned the parchment as she gently leafed through them.

The fragile pages fluttered from her hands to the floor.

She stared at them in disbelief and amazement. She had actually written that? She picked them up again, staring at the notes on the bars. It was...perfect. It was unmistakably something that she would have written and she wished that time would past by faster and she would regain her memories so that she would remember how she wrote such a piece.

And also to find out how she managed to fall in love with the most unlikely person in the world.

She had kept his journal in her satchel, not having a clue how to approach him about it. She wasn't ready to face him yet. To know that he was completely in love with her was a frightening thought. She had awoken in the hospital wing with the knowledge that their feelings of dislike for one another were mutual. To say that she was shocked was an understatement. His journal had told her all she needed to know, Draco Malfoy was a changed man.

Her gaze landed on a small red notebook and raised an eyebrow. She did not remember that being in her chest, but then again, there were many things she could not remember. She picked it up and began to read through it. It was her journal, she realised, but only the first two pages had been inked in. The Hermione of the past wrote about Malfoy and from her words, she knew that Malfoy's feelings of love had been reciprocated. Hermione Granger had been in love with Draco Malfoy. And how did that happen?

There were so many questions but no answers.

She sighed and put the book down next to her composition. She had been remembering things recently. Ever since she read Malfoy's journal a month ago, her dreams had been full of memories that had been erased. In his journal, he had described many a scenario that she had relieved in her sleep. Some of the memories were brief and did not satisfy her curiosity. Others were lengthy and in it, she saw that she had been in love with him. She viewed the memories as a guest, saw and experienced them through the eyes of who she had been.

There were memories of the music room she had spent time in with Malfoy. She had now ascertained that it was located on the sixth floor but she would visit another time. She could remember light touches, his fond stares and the soft smiles they would trade. She saw Draco Malfoy in a different light from Hermione of the past's perspective. He had seemed to genuinely care about her and she had no doubt that he still did. It had been a month since she had been hospitalised and there was still a gap in her memory. She did not love him, for she did not remember but she felt a certain connection to him after going through all those memories and feeling what she had felt already.

She did not love him.

But she was beginning to remember how she did.

Draco had not spoken to Hermione for a month, but he had watched. She seemed to be improving drastically, the whispers had stopped and she was being treated the way Hermione Granger deserved to be. Unsurprisingly, she caught up fast in their lessons although she had struggled slightly at first. She was eating properly and the dark circles under her eyes had eventually faded.

She seemed happy.

He, on the other hand, was not doing as well. He hadn't done very well for a few tests and he had noticed that his clothes were getting looser on his frame. He stayed up late most nights, his mind flooded with thoughts of the lady he loved. She was so beautiful when she was happy. She would throw her head back when she laughed, exposing the smooth pale skin of her neck. He liked how the sunlight brought out the golden highlights in her hair. She was doing fine without him, why couldn't he do the same?

Oh right, a sarcastic part of his mind told him, because he was a fool in love.

He had taken to simply watching her and admiring her from a distance. Sometimes she would accidentally meet his gaze but she'd look away quickly, like a deer caught in headlights. He relished the moments when it happened because it did not happen very often. He wondered if she was beginning to remember, but there was no knowing unless he talked to her.

He awoke on a Wednesday morning with his mind instantly going to her. He wondered about the little things she would do in the morning as he squeezed toothpaste onto his toothbrush . Was she brushing her teeth right now? Was she combing her hair? Perhaps she had decided to sit down by the lake before breakfast like how they had used to do together. He banished thoughts of her from his mind when he noticed that he had squeezed too much toothpaste onto his toothbrush.

Breakfast was a noisy affair, everyone seemed to have arrived at a certain hour and the Great Hall was abuzz with noise. The air was full of the tantalising aromas of breakfast foods and it was then that he realised that he was extremely hungry. His stomach did not agree with his recent eating habits and he suppressed the urge to say something unpleasant when Blaise chuckled at the audible sound of his hunger, it wouldn't do to start of the day on bad terms with the only person he actually talked to. He was halfway through his third piece of toast when he felt a pair of eyes on him.

He looked up to see warm brown eyes staring him him. There was a furrow between Hermione's brows and she seemed to be analysing him, studying him like how she did one of her thick tomes. He raised an eyebrow and and she blushed, averting her gaze to her plate. Weasley was talking to her, his mouth full but she didn't seem to be paying attention. She was staring at her plate as if she wanted to burn a hole into it with her eyes. He felt himself smile slightly, thinking that she was adorable.

Draco felt lighter somehow. She had actually looked at him, properly. Did that mean that she was remembering? He didn't know but it seemed to be a good sign so he finished his breakfast and left the Great Hall for his first lesson. Later on in the day, Hermione approached him rather timidly when they both happened to be going up the same staircase. She came up behind him so he had been unaware that the soft footsteps behind him belonged to her. She tapped him on the shoulder. He did not even feel like snapping at the person when he turned, he had been mulling the fact that Hermione had looked at him at breakfast.

It was strange, how a simple gesture could brighten his mood so.

She looked out of breath from climbing the stairs, apparently, he walked rather fast. He raised an eyebrow, attempting to look indifferent to her sudden appearance although he felt like his day couldn't get any better.

"Hermione," he said in greeting and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Evidently, she was not used to him calling her by her given name. He knew that she was nervous by the way she bit her lip and avoided his eyes.

"I-I just thought that I'd return this to you," she said, holding out his journal which he took.

"Have you read it?"

She nodded nervously, "Yes, I have."

"Good."

"Yes."

There was an awkward silence before he spoke, "How much do you remember?"

"Ever since reading your journal, I've been starting to remember. I see memories in my dreams and I..." she trailed off, seeming unsure of how to continue.

"You?" he prompted, watching her with a softness in his eyes. It had been a while since he had seen her up close and he had started to forget the finer details of her beauty.

"I think I understand how I fell in love with you," she finished, still refusing to meet his gaze. "There's still a lot I cannot remember but I'm sure it'll return to me in time."

Her words rang in his ears. From her actions and words, he had deduced that she did not hate him anymore and that made him glad. She was starting to remember but it was only the beginning. He felt the corners of his mouth lift and he smiled at her. She looked surprised from the action and she momentarily forgot how to be nervous around him.

Before he knew it, he did what he had wanted to do for a long time. He wrapped his arms around her and dropped a brief kiss on her brow. It lasted a short moment before he released her from his grasp and started up the stairs. He felt so much more better after that. Her scent had washed over him for a few seconds and he had relished the contact, no matter how brief it had been. He did not catch the stunned look of surprise that morphed itself onto his lover's face, nor did he see her walk off in the opposite direction, her mind reeling.

Hermione stared at the space where he had been moments ago, stunned. It had been hardly anything at all but it made her mind flood with thoughts. His gesture of affection had been completely unexpected and had made her stomach fill with butterflies. When he had hugged her, she had caught a scent of something familiar. She was certain that she had smelled it before but she could not remember. Perhaps it was just the memory of his cologne erased from her mind. She decided to concentrate on more important matters at hand, such as her History of Magic class in ten minutes. She walked headed down the stairs, determined to keep matters concerning Draco Malfoy at bay until that night when she would perhaps dream of a memory.

Draco took a deep breath and closed his eyes, leaning back into the comfortable pillows of the couch. His notebook sat opened on his lap, his quill resting upon it. It had been a long day but his brief encounter with Hermione had made it much more better. He had paid more attention during his lessons earlier in the day and he had noticed some smiles of approval from several professors. The fact that his grades had been deteriorating and that he had not been very attentive during his lessons had not gone unnoticed by the professors.

Blaise soon joined him, sat on the opposite couch. The Italian had been giving him some very odd looks throughout the whole month. Draco suspected that Blaise knew about his relationship with Hermione although he hid it well. Blaise gave him a smirk, a action that seemed very suspicious to Draco. He wondered what was going in inside of the Italian's mind.

"I wrote a letter to your mother," Blaise begun.

"Oh?" Draco said, raising an eyebrow. "Do enlighten me about the contents of this very interesting letter."

"Well, you see Draco, she owled me first asking about you—"

"Get to the point."

"I was about to before you so rudely interrupted me," Blaise pointed out. "She asked about your well being, your grades, etcetera, etcetera, and I told her the truth. I told her that you were head over heels for a lady whom, apparently, hates you and—"

"Why?"

"I told her what she wanted to know because you were—and I quote—very vague."

"Oh," Draco said simply. In truth, he wasn't angry at Blaise for telling his mother. He supposed that she had a right to know but he wished that she'd have asked him instead.

"Well then, I suppose she knows now," he sighed.

"You're not angry?"

"At what?"

"At the fact that I told your mother that you love Hermione Granger."

"W-What?" he stuttered. "How did you—"

"Draco, honestly, one would think you'd be more subtle with the way you stare at her all the time."

He scowled at his friend and turned his attention to the horizontal bars on the parchment of his notebook. The evening past in a blur of notes and occasional short conversations with his friend. That night, when he lay in bed he fell asleep more quickly than he thought he would; for most nights, his mind would fill with thoughts of her.

After a long day, Hermione decided that it'd be a good idea to visit Madam Pomfrey for a memory check. The nurse had told her that her memory would be completely restored in two to three months. She had left the hospital wing thinking that three or two months were too long for her to wait. She had read a memory book that told her that visiting places that had been in your memories would help or, if possible, experiencing your memories through another person's perspective who had been with you at the time. The latter would have been a bit trickier for that would require the help of another person and a pensieve. She had decided that she would start with the former and so visited the lake on a windy morning.

The strong wind blew at Hermione, numbing her skin. After contemplating the idea several times, she decided to head down to the lake to write. She thought that it'd do her good, perhaps the visit would trigger a few memories. From reading Malfoy's journal and a few glimpses of memories, she had deduced that she used to come down to the lake to write.

After locating the oak tree, she sat down beneath it and took out her quill. She had carried the sheets of parchment preserved carefully inside a slim transparent file. She contemplated the last note she had written, a crotchet note. She wasn't sure if she should continue writing something she could not remember writing. Hermione of the past had memories she did not and she believed that everything that a person had gone through affected them as a person and that in turn affected everything they did. It would be wrong of her to continue a work that did not seem rightfully hers. She sighed and slipped the parchment back in the folder.

Hermione lay there for a while, her eyes closed. She relished the peaceful moment, allowing herself to indulge in the silence broken only by the wind and the birds. It was the only moment of peace she received that day for everything past in a plethora of noise, books and whimsical conversations between Harry and Ron.

Ron had been rather distant with her after her accident in the Potions Classroom and she wondered why. It did not matter much for he had eventually started talking normally to her again. She and heard of his relationship with Lavender and experienced a memory of it from her dreams. It had hurt at first because in her mind, she was still in sixth year and she still liked Ron.

She had been fast to adapt to the change and now after a month, she had fully accepted the fact that she was in seventh year and that she no longer liked Ron. She honestly had gotten over her feelings for him and he seemed genuinely happy with Lavender. As his best friend, she only wished happiness for her friend and was glad that he had found that in another person. There was another person who loved her and from reading two journals, she had come to accept that she had once loved him as well.

Draco Malfoy loved her. When she was younger, she had always pictured herself to end up married with Ron and that they'd love each other to their last breaths. She had never imagined the possibility that she would end with a different person but fate had ways of surprising you.

Malfoy seemed to be faring better after the incident on the stairs. His grades had improved drastically and he did not look gaunt like he had a month ago. His habit of watching her did not cease, however, and still made her nervous. She swore that every time his eyes casually drifted over to her, she felt her hackles rise. It was evident from all that staring he did that he was head over heels for her. The bloke was a fool in love.

A fool in love with her.

Night soon fell and the sun slipped past the mountains to grace others with its presence. She sat on the window seat in her common room, a book perched on her lap. She fingered the edge of the fine paper, lost in thought. She eventually drifted off and awoke the next morning with a stiff back and slightly red marks where her books had sat on her lap. There was a text mark the golden title of her book had left in her skin, she smiled slightly as she rubbed it. The words 'The Foolish Knight' were written temporarily in her skin, the letters backwards. It soon faded however and the redness disappeared.

It was a Saturday morning when she decided to visit the music room that had appeared so many times in her memories. She wandered aimlessly, taking random turns down empty corridors. The castle was almost empty as many of its occupants had gone to Hogsmeade village, Harry and Ron included. She would have gone with them, but she had other things to do. Hermione encountered no one as she walked, her shoes clicking on the floor. A few bemused portraits watched her as she past by, intrigued by this lone student in their halls.

"What are you doing here, dearie?" a portrait to her right asked. She turned and smiled politely at the lady in the painting.

"I'm looking for a music room."

"Surely you're not talking about the one on the North side of the sixth floor?" the lady raised an eyebrow.

"I believe that may be the one I'm looking for."

"Some evenings, you can hear someone playing the piano from inside. I don't know who plays because there aren't any portraits in that corridor, but he used to play such beautiful songs and now they're so depre—"

"Could you please get to the point?" Hermione said, trying not to snap at the lady impatiently.

"Oh, very well," the lady sniffed and proceeded to give her instructions on how to get there. "...and you look to the door on your right, you won't miss it."

After saying her thanks, she went on her way. When she arrived at the door the lady had specified, she eyed the doorknob sceptically. Perhaps she shouldn't have come...

At that moment, the door swung open and a familiar pointy face came into view. At the sight of her, Malfoy's face lit up.

"Ahh, just the person I was hoping to see," he said as he pulled her in.

"Wha—" she never got to finish her question for she was gently but quickly led to a table in the corner. Malfoy clutched her hand in his, and she noticed how big his hand was around hers. She blushed at the thought. Malfoy sat her down at the table and took the seat beside hers.

"How did you know I was outside the music room?"

"I thought it rather curious that there was a shadow underneath the door when no one ever visits the music room," he paused for a moment. "Now, I know that you're wondering—"

"What animal did you get turned into in fourth year?" she asked him quickly.

"So many questions today, Granger. Why do you ask?"

"I just need to make sure that you're really Malfoy," she said, eyeing him warily. She thought that he was acting odd. He rolled his eyes and answered.

"A ferret," he said dryly.

"Good to know," she said, trying to suppress the smile on her face but failing. He seemed to relax into his seat at the smile on her face.

"Would you like some tea? I happen to have Peppermint today, your favourite," he said as he gingerly pulled open the lid of a teapot that she hadn't noticed before. Beside it were two teacups, one full of steaming tea and the other empty. He poured some of the tea into the empty cup and the spicy scent of mint filled her senses. He then proceeded to drop in two cubes of sugar.

"How did you know how I liked my tea?" she asked, confused.

"You told me," he said with a smile, as if reminiscing. He put the tea in front of her and she thanked him.

"Oh," she said, watching the white steam of her tea rise into the air. She gently blew at the surface of her tea to cool it. She had thought that Malfoy had been acting odd because she was not used to such treatment coming from him. He had invited her in and served her tea. It was indeed a very strange day. He was gazing at her with such affection in his eyes that she felt scared to meet his gaze.

"Well, I suppose we should get started," he said as he pulled a stack of books towards him.

"On what?"

"Studying, of course. I, for one, know that you've been struggling with Arithmancy," she opened her mouth to protest but he silenced her. "Don't deny it, Granger, I don't think anyone would be able to cope well with the work load we have with their memory erased. And that's why I'm going to help you in Arithmancy, and you can help me with Charms."

She mulled her options over in her head. In truth, she had been having trouble with Arithmancy but she had been too proud to admit that she needed extra tutoring. It seemed the perfect opportunity to catch up in her studies and Malfoy actually seemed to be pleasant towards her.

"Okay."

"Why are you in such a good mood?" Blaise eyed him suspiciously. Draco turned his attention to his friend and raised an eyebrow.

"That's because it was a good day."

And it was. His and Granger's study session together had been fruitful as they had both benefitted from it and he was certain that he would do well for the next Charms test. What made things infinitely better was that she had suggested that they perhaps study together again. And he had agreed, of course. Later on that evening, he received an owl.

Malfoy,

As we have not finished going over Chapter 19, I propose another study session. I reckon you'll need it, you're terribly clumsy with your wand movements and I haven't finished going over Fire charms with you. I've got some books on that subject and I've no doubt that the library contains more so we can go through those tomorrow. I also need help on History of Magic and I hope you don't mind helping me with that, Professor Binns is rather tedious to listen to. Meet me tomorrow in the library at eleven o' clock in the morning. Don't be late.

H.G

Author's Note

Thank you for reading, do leave a review telling me what you thought of this chapter. Also, thank you to my lovely beta, When in Doubt Smile, for going over this chapter for me. Until next time, my dear readers.

- Silver Chessboards