Love of Music

Love of Music

I remember. It was not long ago that I held him sweetly in my arms as he played that wonderful music. It flowed so perfectly I felt a happiness that nothing could ever hope to give me. I felt so tranquil, at such an ease as if nothing could break me, nothing could remind me of past pretenses and words that had violated my right to live. I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, only a sweet one, only a taste. That was always his notion. To tease me to a merciless end that would not sooner end me in a passion for lust. Oh, the tantalized sweetness of it all!

I remember. He was playing a piece of Canon in D Minor with him not knowing I was present. Oh, the sound that was made was better than a fresh love that lasted until dawn's first light. Harry did not know that I adored his music as much as I adored him. Watching his smooth hands stroke the keys with such care made me nothing but jealous of his talent... but also thronged up amongst the jealousy a myriad of other feelings. Love, passion, warmth, comfort, happiness, all brought on by such a simple song.

I stood leaning against the doorway, depending upon the table to keep me stable as I watched him play the piano with such ease. He never told me of his talent.

It was only by chance as I walked the halls I heard a beautiful song with such fortitude that I could not resist the temptation to follow its sweet voice. I followed the alluring tongue of the song until it led me to a room with a stained-glass window with a lone piano. I saw my lover's messy raven black hair and the glare of glasses from the window's reflection.

I was stunned with such amazement that I could not just walk away. I had to stay. The song would not let its grasp go on me. Oh, the siren had caught my gaze and held it without benevolence towards my soul. I begged it not take me, but it stole my heart without delay.

When there was a slight break to his tour de force, I took advantage of it to take a step to greet him. He still had not an idea of my presence in the room. I was greatly amused by it.

I rearranged my blonde bangs as they were an interference to my vision. My gentle lover continued on. Oh, Siren, I thought. Why do you steal my heart? Why do you pain me with such a beautiful song? Why do you seem only a breath away, only a touch afar, yet you sing me this song that torments me to think you are on a star far away? I could not let go... I did not want to... I had to follow the sweet notes he carried out.

It did not matter to me what strength I had left. Nothing mattered except his song, his hands, his own beauty in which I thought I had studied so intensely. I could not hold myself any longer. The Sweet Siren Song beseeched me to go. I did not hesitate with further delay.

I walked over to the bench and almost as if he had read my mind, turned sideways, welcoming my company. I sat on the bench and placed my arms carefully around his waist. I had never felt such an upsurge of warmth and happiness in my life. I felt someone had given me the wings of an angel and flown me to the farthest star with him in my arms. It was like we had fallen for each other the same moment we touched. The one strange thing being that he did not jump or curse or even speak anything when I held him. He continued playing, smiling with glee. I did not need to look at his face to see that. I could feel his joy rushing through his veins as I held him.

He then took my hands and placed them on the piano. He started to teach my hands how to play his seductive song. Oh, but my hands could not be compared to his. His long, thin fingers were intertwined mine, and his large palms held my own without a struggle. Slowly, he tried to teach my hands to play, but my contentment was too much. I did not pay attention and neither did my hands. I closed my eyes as he played the harmonious melody with my hands, steadily, gently. All I wanted was to listen. He could have played that song forever and I would not have minded in the least. I was in a bliss that could be broken by nothing. Such dedication would have to come if someone wished to rid me of this state. I was again unbroken, as if spoilt with passion for the first time. Everything seemed to come alive. I could not ignore the singing of angels coming from his hands as we played the piano.

The song ended too soon, though. "Don't stop," I whispered in his ear. "Heaven seems to sing when you play." He only put one of my arms around his waist in response. I lied closer to him, smelling the scents of him on his clothes. I sighed as I smelled him. It was such a sweet burning aroma of burnt pine that I refused to let my face turn away from him. He placed the other hand of mine on his chest. I felt his heart beating steadily, unlike mine, which flittered and fluttered like wings of a hummingbird to a sweet flower.

"And if I continue, Draco..." he whispered as he held my hands. "...my hands will die."

"Oh, but I never knew you had such talent," I stated. He refused my compliment. I replied. "Would I be here if your charming music had not enraptured me?" He shook his head in reply as he smiled. I saw his smile and instantly wanted to kiss him, sweetly and gently... but my heart was already racing as I was. "Silence is not a way to live, love. Play on... for me... just this once for I think there is no possible way I can fall any deeper for you." He fancied my request.

"I think there might be...." He said as he played on. I held him closer to me, thinking the music might carry him away.

After all, a siren's song can turn sane men mad. But the only madness I have is the madness of love delivered from a dark-haired cupid whom I would not let go as long as my arms had a chance to hold him. If this be madness, then lock me away and throw away the key forever.