A/N: Thank you for the reviews guys! You know who you are!. This is the reason I write to begin with. Reviews are my inspiration : 3 my muse, so please please please review.
Please note: this fic will use fanon!Blaise – referring to a white (tan skin color), blue eyed, black haired, Italian boy. This is not because I'm whitewashing Blaise, or prejudiced against the race the author chose for him, but rather because I spent 6 years of my life believing he was white, developing this image of this Italian boy, especially since my boyfriend at the time was Italian. Once the connection was set, it was hard to imagine anything else. I'm not against canon, or trying to insinuate this version of Blaise is better, but it's what I've grown accustomed to. In fact, even after having read the books and watched the movies, I never once picked up on the fact that Blaise was black. It really made no difference in the canon what skin color Blaise had. But every time I've ever READ about Blaise, I would automatically picture him as a white Italian. I never even realized what his skin color was – I thought it was still under question, still a debate, and for the purpose of this fic, I looked it up. Not that it makes much difference, but I feel more comfortable writing this way. If you have something against reading fanon!Blaise, then I'm sorry, please choose another fan fic.
Also, I hate the fact that people STILL have to explain their choice about skin color of characters when they change it from the canon.
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Chapter 2
Draco Malfoy loved silence. Silent beautiful quite mornings, perfect for a walk, just as the sun was coming up. Last night, however, he was worn out from traveling and unpacking, and was hoping for that same silence to let him sleep in. However, as the sun sniper shot into his eyes, Draco still attempting to dream couldn't help but hear music.
Damn Granger left her music on.
Rolling his eyes back into his head he let out an annoyed deep growl. Fucking hell, woman. It was too early for this, too early. He attempted to block the sound out with his pillow, or his hands and lull himself back into sleep. The music was no more. Malfoy smiled softly at the anticipation of returning to his dream, when Satan woke him up.
Or what sounded like Satan anyway.
The only thing he could make out as he jumped up in bed, terrified that the Dark Lord was back, heart beating a hundred miles an hour were the words, "Carry On."
As the dream fog completely dissipated, and he kept listing to what sounded like musical instruments, he realized that he had been tricked into false hope by the silence earlier. Granger still had music on, but this wasn't music. This was some terrifying shit he for a moment thought would've scared the Dark Lord himself.
And now anger set in – furious rage darkened the steel grey eyes as he let out a guttural growl and threw his covers off.
"Fucking Granger."
He swung his own door open, failing to realize he had left his room in nothing but his pyjama pants, and swiftly made his way to her door.
"If you don't fucking turn that SHIT off RIGHT now, I'll ACTUALLY kill you!" he knocked like a madman on her door.
In her room, Hermione had the night before set a hardcore song as her alarm ring tone – that was the only thing that could jump start wake her in the morning and wouldn't allow for the sleepy five more minutes routine that had tricked her so many times into being … well almost late.
Parkway Drive's Carrion was the perfect song for the song would pause for a second before the lead singer would growl terrifyingly enough to wake the dead. Also, it was a legitimately good song, when listened to normally. Hermione that morning flung her eyes open when the singer burst into his Carrion verse and smiled.
Right on cue.
She got up, stretched, and walked over to her vanity before taking a seat and removing a brush from one of the drawers.
She really liked brushing her hair – it was relaxing. A morning routine she adored. She felt like Cinderella or Ariel, or Belle, brushing her hair and singing. Except she didn't have the voice of an angel, so she sang with actual music drowning out her attempts.
She got up, grabbed her school uniform, threw on a bathrobe over her naked body, and concealed in the pocket of the bathrobe her undergarments. A lace boxer like pair of panties which outlined her ass in ways only she knew, and a matching bra. Not the usual style cup, this one was shaped as a half oval. A woman in Victoria's Secret back in Muggle London told her that it would accentuate her breast shape, and they would overall maker her chest look better in anything she wore.
Not that anyone would ever know, for last night Malfoy was right, for once in his goddamned life – she was still a virgin. No one had seen her naked body since she hit puberty. Not that she didn't go swimming – she just went swimming where no one else did – or when no one else was there – like early morning swims, or night swimming – when the crowds had gone or before the first patrons of the beach arrived.
Except her swimming pool at home – she despised them. Always told herself God knows what kind of bacteria are festering in there – what types of transmittable diseases. Once, when she was 12, she heard that one of the public swimming pools in London had become infested with a fungal infection – and everyone should go get checked up.
That left her with sufficient nightmares the summer before her second year at Hogwarts.
Shuddering at the thought, she noticed that she was still standing and staring at herself in the mirror. Smiling to herself, realizing she probably had just wasted precious time reliving the past, she skipped happily to the door.
"ARE YOU EVER GOING TO FUCKING OPEN GRANGER?!"
The decibles were higher than anything she'd ever encountered. She was for a minute wonder whether it actually was a human that was shouting at her. Taking a moment to adjust, she stared wide eyed at the assailant.
Malfoy was surprised she'd opened, not expecting it. So for a good moment, they simply stared at each other.
Carrion/In a moment I'm lost/Dying from the inside/Her eyes take me away/Tear me apart from the inside out/Dead eyes speak in volumes?/But our lips refuse to move/Could this ever be the last time?/The final time that we see this through?
Stunned, Draco just stood there.
"Do you wanna even start explaining, or do I just hex you into oblivion and get on with my day?" She asked, sounding almost truly curious.
"T-That music scared the living shit out of me this morning." His response sounded fumbled. As if he hadn't rehearsed his excuse ahead of time. She squinted a little. Had he stuttered? She was almost positive he had.
The look of curiosity in her brown eyes was replaced with sheer anger.
"The fuck did I tell you last night about SILENCING YOUR ROOM!?"
"Do you even KNOW how a silencing charm WORKS?" he suddenly regained his previous demeanor.
She looked at him quizzically, still seething, "The fucking hell, of course I do."
"OBVIOUSLY NOT, because a silencing charm should SILENCE YOUR ROOM to THE REST OF THE WORLD. Not block out INCOMING sound." He sneered at her, anger refueling his body once again.
This took Hermione a moment to process. Of course. She shook her head as if reprimanding herself internally. All that time spent as an actual muggle this summer – with no recapping – got her to confuse two charms. In Hermione's defense, they sounded almost the same. However, one charm was to block out all noise, incoming and outgoing – hence the silent part, while the other charm was designed to – wait what was it designed to do?
She cocked her head to the side, and Malfoy, panting angrily, was slowly calming down himself. This woman made no goddamn sense at all. She was looking through him, not at him, and it seemed as if she was trying to remember something.
Was it Ginny? No, Tonks? Yes. Tonks. Tonks created that spell so that she could put her baby to sleep, and could hear him crying, but that no matter WHAT was going on outside the baby's room, it wouldn't wake him up. It was an ingenious idea that Molly wished she had thought of herself. Hermione then smiled softly, remembering when Molly discovered Tonks casting the spell in the old ancestral Black home that was their headquarters for a long time, and the look the older redhead had when she found Tonks casting it.
Silencio was the silencing charm, but, Silizenzio was the one Tonks came up with. For a woman that changes her appearance at the drop of a hat, this woman had no imagination or creativity.
Hermione let out a sheepish grin.
Malfoy was no longer angry. He was but not outwardly or as much anyway. He would deal with her being a fuckshit later, but at the moment he was just confused. She almost looked like Luna Lovegood with her dazed eyes, cocked head, and the like, and then it's like she just went back to being normal.
Except normal Granger yells, normal Granger is very vocal about her feelings and how much she can't stand his presence. Normal Granger would've simply just sneered right back at him, told him to piss off, and walked away.
Yet, she was smiling – and not some stupid grin, or some evil shit either, this was a full on apologetic sorry. Granger looked SORRY.
"I'm sorry Malfoy, I must've uttered the wrong spell. The two really sound the same. I got so used to casting it while Teddy was around during Order meetings because Tonks is more forgetful than you think."
Draco made some weird head movements, tilting, cocking, and squinting his eyes, all with his eyebrows furrowed. His mouth made attempts to make sounds, as did his hands at trying to convey the utter confusion, but before he could wrap his mind around what she said, she squeaked another sorry under her breath, flashing him that same sheepish grin, before running on her tiptoes down the grand staircase.
Malfoy bit his lip and once again attempted to make some sense of what just happened. All that came out was the exasperated sigh of giving up. Running his hand through his hair, he noticed one thing.
The whole way through this absolutely ridiculously weird exchange, the goddamn song was on repeat. REPEAT.
My love I left/My heart I left/With my promise to return/A promise to return
He clenched his jaw before smashing his fist into the door frame of her still ajar bedroom door.
"GRANGER, YOU LEFT THE MUSIC ON, YOU BLOODY MORON!"
Sniffling as he heard no reply for her, and his brain and ears practically bleeding from the repeating noise, he pushed her door open to find the offending sound producing thing. In the general vicinity of the speakers, he cast an ACTUAL silencing charm, and retreated back into his own room.
So much for sleeping in.
Living with her was going to be a living nightmare.
- x -
The 8th and 7th years had their first karaoke class scheduled that day (that evening – the class would start at 8 PM). Well, a few students did anyway. Apparently, the group they were going to have Karaoke class was not exactly small, but it would be an understatement if one were to say the group was not – interesting.
Theodore Nott, Blaise Zambini, Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasely, Luna Lovegood, Lavender Brown, Neville Longbottom.
What? Who the fuck came up with this?
Hermione rolled her eyes, as she sniffled, putting on a pair of 2 inch heels. The heel was wooden, and the straps were navy blue wrapping around her foot and ankle like ballet shoes wrap around the dancer's shins. They were carefully accessorized with small metal holes or rings that gave the shoes some spunk. She wore dark blue jeans, a grey shirt tucked in, and a black long sleeved sweater. A soft cotton material, it had no zipper, but rather fell open exposing her chest, with the only thing to hold it securely wrapped around her body was a small belt made of the same material that Hermione had neatly already tied into a bow at the back of the sweater. Her hair fell in soft curls down her back, and the make-up she had decided on that day was light but visible. A little thin line of eyeliner at the corners of her eyes to accentuate their shape, mascara to open her eyes up and make them appear bigger, nude but shimmery eyeshadow, and peach colored lip gloss. It was in her final moments of getting ready that she found a swish or two of blush appropriate, just to make her cheekbones stand out.
Alcohol would be served. Food would be served. People would be… (cringe) singing. This sounded like a night out that was not actually a night out. Didn't mean she didn't have to look good.
Breathing out, she pushed her hands into her hair, crinkling it.
I'm sexy and I know it. Cue dance moves. I might need to see that psychologist again over December break.
Laughing at herself, Hermione left her room to be faced with Malfoy standing at the bottom of the grand staircase, looking up at her. He was in a fitting dark green t shirt, and surprisingly, wearing dark charcoal jeans and a pair of Vty's. It was then that she truly took notice of his appearance.
She herself had changed. Her hair was now longer, her curls not busy and massive, but falling in soft twirls now her back, and have morphed from an undecipherable shade of brown to light brown. Her figure had filled, her body shape changed. She wasn't the 90-60-90, but she had an incredibly small waistline, B-cup perky breasts, and with slightly wider hips, her ass had managed to form a soft C shape. Her legs were definitely longer than her torso, which on heels, gave the appearance that they went up to heaven and past Avalon, to quote Flogging Molly, a band that formed in the US, but was Irish in reality.
She bent over, fixing her shoes, lifting the offending foot up for better access to it. However, at 5'6 she was still at a midget in comparison to the boy standing at the bottom of the stairs.
His hair was shorter. He looked more like a man. His hair was an inch or so in length, and messy. He had a strong jaw line and high cheekbones which made him ruggedly handsome. Large steel grey eyes looked like they were shining in comparison to the soft blond hair and pale complexion. His was muscular in build, and stood towering at 6'2. Large shoulders, long legs, and as his eyes fell on her, and he turned to walk away, Hermione noted with a small nod of approval, a nice ass.
"You coming today or are we going to show up a month and 20 minutes late to this class?"
Hermione ignored his comment and shot him a playful, almost evil grin, before click-claking down the stairs as she rushed to catch up, "Picked out a song yet?"
He rolled his eyes and scrunched his nose up, decidedly ignoring the short brunette next to him.
"You're awfully cheerful, strangely polite, and to be honest, Ms. Hogwrats Prude, it's quite unnerving and annoying."
She bit back the little tinge of pain that the comment he threw over his shoulder at her caused in her heart.
"You should be thankful I haven't murdered you for the scene this morning."
"Me? I should've killed you. You cast the wrong spell and woke me up with such a start I think I've been traumatized for life. Your fucking fault, so don't you dare even attempt to insinuate that I had no right to yell at you."
"You stood at my door, at 7 am…"
"Which is an ungodly fucking hour, Granger."
"…and yelled at me while I was completely indecent." She chose to ignore his interjection.
"Indecent? You were wearing, as I recall a long ass fluffy white robe."
"Under which, as people usually are when they're about to go shower, I was completely naked. Of course, if you ever had let a girl stay for longer than 20 minutes in your bed, you'd know is how women, and believe it or not, men, go to the shower."
He shot her a look from his height, which even though she couldn't bother her neck to crane to see, could feel burning into her head. A cold burn, though, a discomforting burn.
He walked a few minutes in silence before they reached the door of the classroom. Pushing it open, and strolling in, he made one last comment, "So does that make you indecent now, because you know, you're naked under your clothes?"
She shot a look at him of pure spite. He seriously went there.
He widened his eyes as if to point out how stupid her reasoning had been and plopped gracefully on the couch by the only person already there – his best friend, Blaise Zabini.
She took a seat opposite him on the red and black sofa. Plush seat cushions were covered in red leather, while black plush cushions were there for comfortable leaning. It was a weird looking room, a microphone, a weird looking muggle contraption that Blaise attempted to explain quickly to Draco was a TV that would play the lyrics. As certain syllables were spoken, they would appear in a different color or jump up so that the singer could keep in pace with the song. It was also there to provide the song list to choose from. However, as McGonagall had charmed it, a wand worked in controlling it. Beneath it was another muggle contraption that Blaise explained was called a microphone – it would amplify the sound of the human voice – however since they were in a small room, only by a little. It was charmed as well to turn on and off when the song started and ended.
Hermione stared at the two opposite her – the couch was a straight edged U shape with a coffee table in the middle, rectangular to meet the shape of the couch large enough to fit an assortment of food and drinks. Draco wasn't thrilled about this, and Blaise made no emotional reaction whatsoever. He looked really exhausted if anything, and from what, Hermione could only assume was because he kept an even better track record than Malfoy himself of how to be perfectly vain.
Ice blue eyes met Hermione's and they sent chills up her spine. Not the good kind of chills either – she almost felt miniscule beneath his gaze. However, his eyes did not portray spite or hatred, but rather a neutral you're simply in my field of vision.
Ginny was the next to arrive, and she squealed, delighted to see her best friend again, and sped up to a girly oh my gawd gurl! I'm so glad to see you here walk that reminded Hermione dangerously of white girls. Muggle white girls and wizard white girls were nowhere close to being the same thing. For example: a wizard white girl would act no different than a wizard girl of any other race or ethnicity – they were all women, and they all acted the way women act. A library on women should be opened but that was another matter. However, MUGGLE white girls were their own stereotype. Muggle white girls take pictures of their Starbucks coffee, and cancel the order when their Instagram isn't connected to the internet. Muggle white girls take their shoes off at the club. Muggle white girls walk home barefoot in their drunken stupor. Muggle white girls scream at each other like they have an encountered a handsome spider when they see each other – a shrill pitched scream of delight that could be confused for murder if one isn't directly staring at the people producing the offending sound.
Muggle white girls also have this run stab my feet into the ground because I don't know how to walk in heels that they do whenever they encounter a friendly female they have not seen for less than 24 hours. Hermione would not wish on her worst enemy that anyone ever has to be exposed to that sound. Now, this sound usually occurs in clubs – hopefully – and their shrieks are masked by the pounding bass line and music, but the muggle white girls have these magical voices that can reach such shrill peaks, you can hear them across the club.
So this walk that Ginny just did, rather run, reminded her dangerously of that one. She had heard that Ginny spent her summer not flooing all over Europe and Northern Africa where Ron was, but rather doing the very muggle thing of flying or taking a train/bus. She must've in the meantime made some muggle friends, who, oblivious to the fact that she was a witch and has never been exposed to the atrocity muggle clubs are, been dragged along.
And by Merlin, did she pick up some very white girl things. For example, her hair fell in soft princess curls towards the end of her long red mane of hair. She had done something to her bangs and made them stand up like risen bread, and then pinned them back. For a karaoke night at Hogwarts, she was wearing stilettoes, black with small metal spikes protruding from the heel, a mini black dress that flowed from her waistline down, well, an inch or so beneath her ass. The flowy material was poofy and thick. Around her waist was a blood red belt the size of Malfoy's forearm, and she wore a dark red suit jacket tailored to her body that she left unbuttoned. The corset part of her dress had a lovely, but revealing heart shape. Hermione had to blink to discern where the girl's eyes started and her eyeshadow ended.
Others started filing in as well. Theodore Nott, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom practically walked in one after the other. Hermione smiled at her Ravenclaw friend, who was wearing a blue skirt and a white button up short sleeved shirt and thigh high stockings matched with black Mary-janes. The two boys looked practically the same as Blaise and Draco did – save for the color of the shirt.
Ginny sat and animatedly spoke to Hermione about something that happened in the Gryffindor common room while Luna took out her quibbler and read it upside down to pass the time.
"And then," Ginny giggled, "she slapped him straight across the face and went FUCK like I care who you shag behind my back, since we're THROUGH. And she like walked away and left the common room, and he was like, who told her, and everyone went back to doing their own thing, no one wanting to get involved. And you'll never believe this, he walks up to ME and goes, you're my friend and hers, but I get it, women before semen, and I was like, dude that's not even how the saying goes, and how dare you accuse me!"
Hermione, while she was enjoying this rant of Ginny's as it was a beautiful reminder that life went on despite death, and people were still assholes, could for the love of Merlin not get over just how this girl spoke.
"And then what happened?" Hermione chose to ignore this part of Ginny, for she assumed the girl pre-gamed back in the common rooms and was probably tipsy on arrival.
Ginny gave an exasperated sigh, and filled in Hermione on the details of the fight that caused Gryffindor to choose sides.
"Is that really still happening?" Incredulous brown eyes widened further in shock.
Ginny nodded and made a frown at the empty table, biting her lip, and then turned to Hermione again.
"The sad part was they were 7th years, not bloody 3rd years. I expected more maturity out of these people and well, was let down again." She rolled her eyes, "Sadly, it all started with such a hilarious fight."
The table suddenly was filled with all types of alcoholic drinks and food for nibbles. Ginny shrieked again, and as she made a move to grab a bottle of Jack Daniel's, a voice resounded that made Hermione want to jump out of her skin.
"You screech like that, ONE MORE TIME, Weaselette, and I will fucking rip your vocal cords out."
Malfoy.
Hermione stood up, and Malfoy raised both eyebrows as if daring her to proceed, curious to find out what exactly she could do to harm him.
"I have no words, no phrases, not enough insults to throw at you, you asshole, but listen here, and listen now. You are aware of how strong I am with my magical powers, so before I hex you to Avalon and back and give you the voice of a baby girl, why don't you shut the fuck up, and not listen. You have NO goddamn right to tell anyone when they can screech in happiness and when they can't. Simply because you're unable…"
She didn't notice McGonagall enter the room as she was still staring at Ginny's lingering hand on the bottle of alcohol, "… to be happy does not give you the right to decide when others can or cannot be. If you have an issue with people's voices, you dickhead, then avoid people like the plague. I have to put up with you, and I can kill you, but they don't. And since more people here like Ginny than don't, I suggest it's your ass you move if you have an issue."
She finally shot him a glare, then turned on her heels and muttered something about using the bathroom before coming face to face with McGonagall. She heard Draco snicker behind her, and that sent her over the edge. She snapped her head back to look at him and raised her wand, turning her torso.
"Hermione that is enough." The headmistress used her given name which for a moment made Hermione's arm falter, but she did not put her wand down.
"Hermione, I'll tell you one more time, and then will be forced to move with consequences."
Hermione bit her lip, sheathed her wand, apologized to the headmistress in a flustered manner and then left the room.
Draco noticed the red haired girl pull her arm away from the bottle of alcohol, leaving it untouched, her hands now elegantly poised in her lap.
At this, Blaise sniffled, and moved from his own laid back position to pour her a shot of Jack Daniel's, then offered it to her. She shook her head shyly that she didn't want it, but he insisted. Ginny dared herself to look at him, and finding no discernable emotion except that his eyes created the cold chill that instantly went up her spine, found herself unable but to accept the silent offer and sip it. She then shot the male a small smile. Luna breathed deeply and put her quibbler down,
"Professor, will you ever speak? You can cut the tension in the air with a knife."
The woman didn't bother to correct her. She was still dazed from the display of hatred she saw spewing between her Heads, but Luna's voice jump started her.
"Ah yes, so welcome to Karaoke night. I won't bother saying that I hope you have a wonderful night, because I'm sure tonight will be anything but. Your assignment is to find a song that you think represents the two years you have been away from Hogwarts." She smiled. "This will be recorded, and you will be graded on this. I am curious to find out what you choose."
As McGonagall turned to leave, Hermione re-entered the room. She shot her wand up at the TV, and started scrolling. McGonagall let her eyes linger on the remaining third of the Golden Trio before walking out in her usual flustered pace.
Luna returned to the Quibbler and Neville helped himself out to some food, while Blaise poured Firewhiskey into shot glasses for Nott and Malfoy.
Hermione stopped scrolling when she saw 'Sing'. Selecting it, she put her wand in her back pocket and moved to the microphone hearing the familiar drum beat. On cue, she began to sing.
"Sing it out, boy you've got to see what tomorrow brings. Sing it out, girl you got to be what tomorrow needs. For every time that they want to count you out, use your voice every single time you open up your mouth."
Raising her voice an octave higher to keep in tune, she started to pour her heart out into a song that gave her reason to live when bullied, and gave her a reason to stay alive in the war. This song was her reason to fight.
"Sing it for the boys, sing it for the girls, every time that you lose it sing it for the world. Sing it from your heart, sing it 'til you're nuts, sing it out for the one's that'll hate your guts. Sing it for the deaf, sing it for the blind. Sing it for the one's that you left behind. Sing it for the world, sing it for the world."
She let her voice calm, sniffling, not looking at anyone in particular. She closed her eyes and let the music take her away.
"Sing it out, boy they're gonna sell what tomorrow means. Sing it out, girl before they kill what tomorrow brings. You've got to make a choice if the music drowns you out, and raise your voice every single time they try and shut your mouth!" She was pouring her soul into it.
Now, with more vigor than before, she sang the chorus, singing it out just as the song instructed her to do.
Cleaned-up corporation progress, dying in the process - children that can talk about it. Living on the webways, people moving sideways, sell it till your last days. Buy yourself a motivation! Generation Nothing! Nothing but a dead scene! Product of a white dream! I am not the singer that you wanted but a dancer; I refuse to answer, talk about the past, sir, wrote it for the ones who want to get away."
Deep breath, and she threw her eyes open and look directly at Malfoy.
"Keep running!"
Shutting her eyes again, she fell back into the chorus, singing with every fiber, using every vocal cord, and her lungs capacities to the limit.
"Got to see what tomorrow brings! Sing it for the world! Sing it for the world!"
Pause.
"Girl, you've got to be what tomorrow needs! Sing it for the world! Sing it for the world!"
The music faded to end, and Hermione opened up her eyes, then sat down, a tally system checking her off the list of the people that have completed their assignment.
Her voice was soft, but strong, and what did the greats say when commenting singing – sounded natural – no notes were forced. Her tenor also sent shivers down the onlookers spine, her passion had them gawking, but the sound of her voice was something no one had expected. It was divine and absolutely a charm to listen to.
"Wow, 'Mione, you should've become a singer," the red head almost whispered, stunned.
"Yeah, Hermione, that was excellent," Neville smiled weakly from shock.
No one had ever heard her sing. Luna Lovegood seemed… distant in thoughts, eyes more dazed than they have been in days, and she smiled softly, showing her approval.
Blaise made no outright comment, but it almost seemed as if he nodded his head.
Draco was staring at the floor beneath his feet, before getting up, and moving to the microphone.
He stared up at the screen and realized he had no idea what to pick. None. There was not a single song that he actually knew. Didn't listen much to wizard music that was in as his family always argued it was beneath their status to listen to that wretched excuse for music. Classical. That's what he knew, but those were all instrumentals.
Scrolling, he found a band title that he liked automatically. Rise Against resounded with him. Him rising against his parents, him rising against many things, and he selected them to open list of available songs. Drones – what the fuck are those? Worth Fighting For – Ahahahahaha, no. Paper Wings – um… he'd look that one up later.
Beneath Paper Wings was Letting Go. For a band named Rise Against to name something Letting Go, the song, at least on the looks of it, seemed like a good match to describe his last two years. Being unaware of what the music sounded, he turned to Luna Lovegood, ignoring Hermione's presence all together because he would screw Satan before turning to the bitch for help, and asked if he could first listen to the original version before being subjected to singing the Karaoke of it.
"Of course, it's in the rules." Granger responded with an air of authority. Malfoy didn't move. He just stared at Luna and then, feigning patience, repeated his question louder, as if by some chance, she didn't hear him.
"Yes." She smiled distantly.
Satisfied, he raised his wand and pressed play on the original version.
And with an intro that stunned Draco into a mystified silence, the song began. Glad the lead vocalist was male, Draco also liked the tone, the sound of his voice. Different to the opera voices, but somehow honest and worn.
Once upon a time I could take anything, anything. Always stepped in time, regardless of the beat I moved my feet, I carried weight. What I could not do I faked. I dug seeking treasure just to wake up in an early grave. So I stopped right there and said:
Go on alone, 'cause I won't follow. This isn't giving up, no this is letting go. Out with the old dreams I've borrowed. The path I carve from here on out will be my own. The path will be my own.
This is the part where the needle skips and the chorus plays like a sink that drips. A syllable repeating, like a warning we aren't heeding, until all of a sudden we noticed it - when the wheels brace and the tires grip. A map we've been misreading; a defeat we're not conceding until now. There must be some other way out!
Go on alone, because I won't follow. But this isn't giving up no this is letting go. Out with the old dreams I've borrowed. The path I carve from here on out will be my own. A path to take me home
(Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!)
It was in this moment that the music slowed to an almost beautiful pace, and the words that came out of the singer's mouth and promptly appeared on the screen froze Draco in his own memories. Unable to move, his mind blacked his vision out and proceeded to replay a scene from the war.
The wind died.
It did. In that moment, the bloody wind had stopped.
The whole world ceased to move.
It's true. He couldn't hear fighting. It's like they had stopped. No sounds came from anywhere. He wasn't sure whether it was adrenaline or if things really did quiet for that moment in time.
Now so quiet, her beating heart became a boom.
She looked at him, terrified, and didn't move a muscle. He could swear, from where she stood, about five meters away from him, he could literally hear her heart beat out of her chest in loud booms.
We locked eyes for just a moment or two.
Malfoy had grabbed the fallen Order soldier, and had told them something, before casting a healing spell. He said loudly enough that he was done with everything that was happening, and he was switching sides. He begged them to trust them. As he looked up, their eyes locked.
She asked why. I said "I don't know why, I just know."
That is exactly what Hermione Granger asked him, as she stood before him with her wand twitching in her hand from her own insecurity, horror, terror, and fear, standing with curious eyes watching him. And that is exactly what he told her before he ran towards the Forbidden Forrest.
The wind died. The whole world ceased to move. Now so quiet, her beating heart became a boom. We locked eyes for just a moment or two. She asked why. I said "I don't know why, I just know."
The last I just know was yelled and it jump started Malfoy out of his dumbfounded state of mind, and out of the horror of that memory.
Go on alone, 'cause I won't follow. This isn't giving up, no this is letting go. I made most of all this sorrow. I tried to brave this discontent, but now I'm through. I'm letting go of you.
This is letting go
This is letting go
Once upon a time I could take anything, anything.
The music ended. Draco turned to face the group, before shaking his head and hastily running out of the room.
A loud EERR noise filled the room, indicating that Draco failed his task. Blaise got up to try and stop him. They had to see this through – they wouldn't graduate if they failed a single class this year. Malfoy couldn't afford it. It was SINGING for Merlin's sake – how does one fail that?
As the two left the room, the screen displayed a message that until the last registered singer completed his song, no one else could take his place. Meaning this class wouldn't be over until Draco Malfoy sang.
And he had just simply left.
- End Chapter -
A/N: It took me FOREVER to figure out which songs they should sing. At 6000 words, I decided to end the chapter here.
Please tell me if my style of writing is too boring, or too descriptive, or too annoying. I feel like all of this could've been done with less words, but the more write, the more I feel all of this needs to be in there. Their mental states, their thought process, it all has to be explained somehow, but maybe I AM overdoing it.
I am sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes. It is midnight and I've been busy as hell.
Also, that scene did not happen as I recall in the canon. Let's just pretend it did for the sake of this being a work of fiction.
DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW, PLEASE. I can't make something better or more fun or anything if I don't know if people like it to begin with, or have no constructive criticism to offer me. Please. All your ideas, notes, suggestions, advice count. THANK YOU ALL :3 Especially to those who followed, favorited. A special note of thank you goes to those who REVIEWED :3
