Figure 0.9

Chapter 1

Draco Malfoy was watching. Watching with his silver-gray eyes. He was extremely perceptive - at least when he was watching this subject. He was also very good at hiding how carefully he was watching. Particularly as his subject just happened to be Harry Potter.

Draco could see many things about Harry. He noticed how Harry always pulled his bag onto his left shoulder. How he always took out his ink first at the beginning of a class. How he always pushed his glasses back up with just one finger on his right hand. How he faked his life in front of his friends.

They couldn't see, Weasley, Granger the Weaslette. None of them could see how he only laughed when he was expected to or quickly smiled when someone looked at him. Draco could. Whenever Harry thought no one was watching him his face would return to its normal icy, broken stare. He showed no emotion, no flicker of anything crossed his expression. Only when it was required to keep us his façade did he react. It seemed the outside world was just passing him by and he was oblivious. He must've been listening to know when to respond or Granger would've picked up on his odd behaviour. But Draco thought it looked like he was watching his whole world crashing down in front of him. He knew that someone other than him should've noticed. What could he do about his arch enemy hiding his feelings from all his friends? Why should it even bother Draco? It made no sense but it did. This new Harry wasn't worth hating - he wasn't a worthy enemy. The real Harry was, and Draco needed that. He needed someone to focus his hate on. Someone to distract him. But now Harry wasn't worth hating Draco was obsessing over him, watching, hoping he'd change.

I remember when it started happening
I'd see you in every thought I had...

He hadn't so far, but the Harry watching had become a distraction in itself and kept Draco somewhat occupied.

"Draco," a voice interrupted his watching. "Have you finished your Potions Essay yet?" asked Blaise Zabini. A tall, dark boy with striking features. His high cheekbones and slanting eyes made him look quite feline.

Though they didn't associate much around the rest of the school Draco got on well with Blaise. He was intelligent - better for conversation than Crabbe and Goyle. However this was not to say that Crabbe and Goyle were quite as idiotic as the rest of the school thought them to be. They were loyal friends and could be quite intelligent if they tried.

"Of course Blaise - why? Planning on copying me?"

"No just wondered if you'd found anything on how the properties of asphodel change if it's mixed with syrup of Hellebore. I know I need to mention it but I can't find anything about its properties changing."

"It's on page 342 in the footnotes."

"Footnotes - trust Snape, I never would've checked them."

"No, neither will the Gryffindors - apart from the know it all."

"Ahh yes, I'm sure she will," replied Blaise, rolling his eyes.

Draco went back to eating and watching. Shortly after Harry and his friends left the Great Hall.

*****

The steady murmur of voices on the edges of his mind didn't distract Harry from his anguish. As he walked to the Gryffindor common room with Hermione and Ron all he could think about was Sirius. And Cedric. And his parents. And everyone he hadn't saved. Everyone he couldn't save. Everyone he wouldn't save in the future...

Ron interrupted his thoughts, "Harry when's the next Quidditch practise?"

"Oh erm I'm not sure, I'll have to book the pitch but probably Tuesday evening."

"Harry, Ron, we should really get ready for Hogsmeade," interrupted Hermione.

"Yeah, sure..." replied Harry unenthusiastically, which passed unnoticed by his best friends.

*****

Draco was also less than enthusiastic about the Hogsmeade weekend. He brushed of Pansy's invitation pleading a headache. This ploy almost ended in disaster when Pansy was about to insist on staying to look after him, luckily Millicent unknowingly rescued him by asking Pansy to help her pick new robes.

Thank God, who knew Millicent was so useful? contemplated Draco, when the majority of his house had gone, leaving him in peace. Their departure also gave him the freedom he could rarely attain. Although he was seen as the leader of his house, his high status had its disadvantages. A serious lack of freedom being the key one in Draco's opinion. He could hardly ever escape them or get a minute of thought to himself. If he ever went somewhere Pansy or someone else would want to know where he was going, and usually Crabbe and Goyle followed him as well. He would have to order them to stay in the common room if he wanted privacy.

Today Draco aimed to distract himself from the distraction of Potter watching. He wanted to lose himself and he knew exactly how to achieve this.

*****

Harry sighed, he didn't like to lie to his friends but only feigning illness and fatigue ("I didn't sleep well last night") would allow him to avoid going into Hogsmeade. He was tired, tired from keeping up this façade in front of everyone. Pretending that everything was fine and dandy for the boy who lived. Avoiding Hogsmeade would give him a day off from this task.

He rolled over on his bed, then shifted his pillow round, then curled his knees up. Finally realising that trying to actually sleep was hopeless. As usual he had too many guilty thoughts running around his brain. Sighing, again, he got out of bed and stuck his shoes and jumper back on. Maybe a walk around the castle would distract him a bit. And if that didn't work go over to the lake, it was a pleasant autumn day perfect for being outside.

He traipsed through the common room letting the portrait slam shut behind him, provoking an annoyed protest from the Fat Lady, which Harry was oblivious to.

He wandered all over the castle till he almost didn't recognise where he was. After looking out of a window he realised he was near the north tower in a corridor where he'd never had classes before. As he walked he noticed there was music playing somewhere nearby. Following the sound he came to a small door tucked away, almost unnoticeable, in a little turn off. The door hadn't been fully closed and there was a tiny gap. Harry carefully nudged the door a little wider and then stopped dead in his tracks. Inside the room there was a grand piano, and sitting playing that was a figure with pale blonde hair. Harry knew exactly who that figure was and didn't think his presence would be appreciated by Malfoy.

It's funny I didn't realise anyone in our year was musical, I'd never have thought of Malfoy...pondered Harry on his surprising discovery. Despite knowing he should just turn around and leave something held him in place. He realised with a start that Malfoy was playing a particularly famous muggle piece of music. He had no idea what the piece was as the Dursleys had never volunteered information or answered his questions but he definitely recognised it. How surprising, apparently distaste for everything muggle did not extend to beautiful pieces of music. And it was a beautiful piece, even the uncultured Harry could tell. It also looked very complicated to play, Malfoy's hands were moving at a furious pace over the black and white keys.

Harry stood there watching Malfoy till he came to the end of the piece. When he finished Malfoy rested his forehead against the piano and Harry realised he should make a move if he didn't wish to be caught. He silently backed away from the door and pulled it so it was almost closed. He then walked away from the room as quickly and quietly as possible and ran down the stairs carrying on out of the castle and then slowing down to a walk towards the lake.

Harry felt strange, the sound of a piano playing still filled his head. He suddenly realised he hadn't had one depressing thought since he first heard the music. Who would've thought Malfoy could help me?

As he wandered along the edge of the lake he came to a decision. He had to keep listening to Malfoy playing, he felt almost normal again because of it. Somehow he had lost himself in the music as he listened and its effects were remarkable.

*****

Malfoy felt the music flowing around him and it was glorious. When he came to the end of the third movement he leaned forward and rested his head on the piano. Beethoven had always been his favourite muggle composer; there was something magical in his music despite the fact that he was undoubtedly a muggle.

Draco could always rely on music to distract him. Whatever had happened he could always find solace when he was playing a piano. He had the ability to let go and immerse himself in the piece he was playing, ignoring his problems and the existence of the rest of the world.

He loved to learn difficult pieces of music and had a skill at learning them off by heart. He no longer required his manuscript of The Moonlight Sonata, but he treasured it anyway. Its value was sentimental rather than practical.

Playing all three movements of the Sonata had been the distraction he needed. He always felt much better after playing. It relaxed him, helping him get rid of all his stress through the parts labelled fortissimo in the second and third movements.

Draco sat up, stroked his fingers along the keys one last time, put the lid of the piano down carefully and recovered it with its sheet. Reluctantly he left the room and walked slowly back to the dungeons.

*****

Authors notes:

Please review! I'd really like to know what you think.

Fortissimo is music notation meaning "very loud" often shortened to (ff) on pieces of music. The origin of the word is Italian, like many words used in music.

The lyrics, which will be used throughout this fic, are from Figure 0.9 by Linkin Park.

I'm going away for a few weeks and won't have access to a computer/the internet so I won't be able to post the next chapter for a while, but I'll do it as soon as I get back.