Music

Chapter 1: Nocturne in Green and Gold

Nocturne:
1. A painting of a night scene.
2. An instrumental composition of a pensive, dreamy mood, especially one for the piano.

She sat up in bed and threw the covers aside. She could not sleep. Standing, she threw on her robe and silently crept out of the dormitory. Where she was headed, she did not know.

She hurried down the stairs and through the empty common room. The fire was banked, giving off a warm, dark red glow. She slipped out of the portrait hole, taking care not to wake the Fat Lady.

She walked to the end of the vast corridor. Left or right? Impulsively, she turned left, toward the Astronomy Tower.

Climbing the staircase to the top of the tower, she observed the portraits on the walls. Most were sleeping at this time of night, but a few greeted her wordlessly.

Stepping out onto the bare stones of the Astronomy Tower, she shivered. She wrapped her bright yellow robe around her and tucked her hands in her pockets. She leaned her head back to look at the stars. It was a clear winter night, and the heavens went on for eternity. Her normally bookish nature seemed to have gone on holiday; instead of picking out individual constellations, she simply enjoyed the star-spattered canvas of the sky.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," a low voice sounded behind her. She tensed, then forced herself to relax.

"Professor Snape," she nodded. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Indeed. Tell me, Miss Granger, what is the Head Girl doing out of bed at," he paused, and she supposed he was checking his watch, "one forty-five in the morning?"

"Not awaiting a rendezvous, if that's what you're thinking, Professor," she said, lips turning up at the corners. "No student in her right mind would come up here for a romantic interlude. It's freezing."

"Five points for your cheek, Miss Granger," he said idly. They stood in silence, staring up at the stars.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to touch a star?" she asked.

"I assume it would be rather hot," he replied dryly.

She had no idea why she was speaking to him, of all people, like this, but she continued. "I used to dream that I climbed into the sky and pulled a star down for a keepsake. It always felt cold to the touch; cold and hard, like a diamond." She doubted he cared. Perhaps that was why it was so easy to speak like this.

"Starlight has always contained magical qualities. If one is fortunate enough to capture it, it can be compressed and set into a ring, much like a diamond." She raised her eyebrows. Had he just voluntarily spoken to her?

"I didn't know that."

"Miss Granger, contrary to your belief, there is much you don't know." His biting words did not match his tone, and for once in her life, she was not sure of what to say. Taking one last long look at the dark sky, she sighed. She turned slowly.

"Good night, Professor," she said, meeting his eyes. They were as dark as the night sky--but without the light of the stars.

"Good night, Miss Granger," he replied, nodding stiffly. She left the Astronomy Tower as quietly as she had arrived. Her mind, rather than the quiet contentment that she had been seeking, was in a state of confusion.

She would get no sleep that night.

---

Chapter 2: Minuet in 3/4 Time

Minuet:
1: a slow graceful dance in 3/4 time characterized by forward balancing, bowing, and toe pointing.

She was alone.

She entered the hall, drawing no attention to herself. This was her day to shine, but she relinquished the spotlight gracefully. She seated herself at a corner table and observed the rejoicing crowd.

After so many years of living in fear, he had been defeated. He snorted to himself. What the most powerful wizards in the world could not do, a triad of teenagers completed in a night.

She looked like no teenager, however. Her hair was swept up in a Grecian knot on the top of her head. Curls were artfully arranged around her expressive face. Bright brown eyes watched her friends dance and shout gleefully over the rowdy throng. She seemed content to remain on the sidelines--as he was.

Before he could reconsider, he stood and made his way over to her table. He took the chance to study her more closely. She was dressed in an elegant gown of dark blue silk--the same shade as the night sky reflected in the ceiling. She wore no jewelry other than a pair of diamond studs in her ears. She would never be considered other than passingly pretty, but she fascinated him in ways no blonde beauty ever had.

He stopped by a chair. "Miss Granger," he greeted her smoothly.

She smiled at him, something no one had done in years. "Professor Snape! Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing to the chair beside her. He did so silently. "It's so loud in here. How do you deal with this every day?" She paused, then laughed. "Oh, that's right--with an iron fist."

He raised an eyebrow. "Daring, Miss Granger."

She smiled cheekily. "Why not? I've already graduated--you can't even take House points from me." She sighed, suddenly melancholy. "I can't believe I'm leaving this place. Seven years is a long time."

"So it is." He did not approve of small talk, but she did not appear to wish to stop anytime soon.

"I'm not sure what I'm going to do after Hogwarts. Harry wants to join the Aurory. Ron wants to play professional Quidditch." She paused. "But you don't care about that, do you?"

"Not particularly," he replied. He had not expected laughter to be her response.

"Truthful as always! If I ever need my ego punctured, I'll be sure to send you an owl."

"And what makes you so certain I'll respond?" he replied archly.

"Well, someone must have drilled proper etiquette into you. It can't be all potions ingredients and bitterness toward students in there." His face remained expressionless, but hers paled in shock. "I am sorry, Professor. That was completely uncalled for."

"Believe me, Miss Granger; I've heard worse," he said sardonically.

"That is no excuse," she said, obviously berating herself.

"Apology accepted." She smiled, relieved.

"So do you have any plans for the summer, sir?" she asked. He stared at her for a moment, uncertain of her intention in asking the question.

"None as of yet. Due to you and your friends, I find myself with a sudden excess of free time."

"Ah. You should go on holiday; get out of Hogwarts. You're a free man now, Professor." He blinked. He had not thought of it that way.

One of her friends came up to the table. "Come on, 'Mione! Join the party!"

"You know my name, Ronald--use it," she snapped irritably.

The redhead rolled his eyes. "Aw, you know I'm only joking, Hermione. It's a pet name, is all."

"Yes, well, I'm not your pet." He shook his head. She did the same, sighing as he walked away. Classical music replaced the popular music playing--the headmaster's choice, no doubt.

Her next question shocked him to the core.

"Would you like to dance?"