Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Pianist	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 13339 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own HP, JK Rowling does. I make no money doing this.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Okay, okay, since none of you liked the ending...

“What is that mum?”
Hermione looked down at her daughter Rose, who had been dressed in her Hogwarts uniform since dawn. “It’s nothing dear. Just… a present from an old friend.”
Rose studied the red and gold box that was engraved with lions. “You sure love music boxes, don’t you?”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” Hermione said with a shuddering breath. “They tell a story.”
Rose nodded and grabbed for the first Christmas present Draco had ever sent. Hermione let her, long over her fear that she would break it. Rose always treated her things with respect. “I like this one the best.”
“Really?” Hermione mused. “Why is that?”
“It’s a beautiful love story,” Rose sighed. “And she looks just like you. But the piano player… he doesn’t look like dad at all. He’s got blond hair… like Mr. Malfoy.”
Hermione took the music box from Rose a little roughly. “Don’t be silly. It’s just a music box.”
Rose frowned. “I don’t know. I’ve seen the way Mr. Malfoy looks at you sometimes when you’re in the book store together.”
“Rose, that is enough,” Hermione said sharply.
Rose pouted. “Fine, but you aren’t getting any younger. I’m going to get my stuff.”
Hermione’s jaw dropped in shock. She’d divorced Ron when Rose was still a toddler, unable to handle it anymore. There was no spark. It felt like settling, like her heart died. It only got worse when she saw Scorpius’ birth announcement in the papers. She marveled how quickly that had happened and wondered if Malfoy might have slipped Astoria a fertility potion on their wedding night. She knew she’d taken one, just in case. She claimed she was too tired for nine months but couldn’t bring herself to touch Ron again after that. Their marriage had crumbled because of it and she felt horrible because she couldn’t bring herself to care.
She studied the music box that had just arrived this morning. It never failed. Whenever a big event came up, she received one. She’d gotten one on her wedding day that was black and played the wedding march in a minor key. Ron had hated it but she adored it. It was how she felt. After that, she received one on her birthday and Christmas. When Rose was born, she’d received a delicate little heart shaped music box with a tiny tot in a tutu dancing to Brahms’s lullaby. Today was Rose’s first day of school and the very Gryffindor-oriented box played the Hogwarts song as a little red headed girl spun pirouettes with a mountain of books in her hands. She blinked the tears away and went to help her daughter get her trunk. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Draco standing there with Astoria today but she couldn’t let that stop her from seeing her daughter’s journey begin.
“Mum,” Rose pestered on the way to the train station. “Why don’t you get married again? Dad did right away.”
She sighed heavily. “Because I didn’t want to.”
Ron had married shortly after their divorce. He and his wife, a muggle named Jennifer, were very happy. She already had one child Rose’s age who turned out to be magical, much to Ron’s delight. It worked out perfectly and Jennifer had a very open mind. Hermione couldn’t find it in her to be bitter or even angry at how quickly they’d gotten together. She was just glad that it was over.
“You always say that,” Rose huffed. “Even Lisa thinks something is wrong with you.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. Jennifer’s oldest, Lisa, was about as close to Luna in personality as a person could get. She believed in the make believe and the inherent good in all people. For that child to think there was something wrong with Hermione, it would take an awful lot. But there was an awful lot wrong. She’d given her heart to another man on top of a piano and she’d never gotten it back. She wondered again if Malfoy had ever found that lover he’d talked about. She knew he was estranged from his wife, though not divorced. It wouldn’t be long. Already the papers were printing rumors of Astoria with men other than Draco and Lucius was in bad health, Azkaban having taken its toll.
“There is nothing wrong with me,” Hermione insisted. “I just haven’t wanted to.”
Rose sniffed. “Everyone you’ve tried to date thinks your necklace is strange.”
“And if they can’t accept my necklace, they can’t accept me,” Hermione said curtly.
It was true. She’d snap at anyone who tried to touch the necklace, anyone except Draco. She only took it off to bathe and put a protective charm on it when she slept. He’d comment on it whenever they happened to cross at the market, daring to reach out and finger the delicate little charms. It always made her breath hitch. He’d comment on the new ones, how they seemed more generic, though she displayed them with equal importance. She’d simply smile and tell him that as much thought went into each one, they deserved an equal display. More than once she’d seen tears in his eyes and a tremor in his hand. When she’d divorced Ron, she’d received a pretty little gold thing that displayed a dancer in confetti and played the Hallelujah chorus. She had hoped that meant that he was happy for her.
“Mum, I know you like someone,” Rose insisted. “You spend enough time at the trinket shop at the dance hall in June and Christmas that you couldn’t possibly be shopping for any of our family.”
Hermione blushed. She hadn’t thought Rose had observed that much. She did spend a lot of time there, thinking of the perfect gift to send to an old friend. For his wedding, she sent a dancer in a black mourning veil, a relic from a dance about grief. For his son’s birth, she’d sent a tiny blue dancing stork. Each year she’d pick some sort of symbol of their time together, a pair of feet, an autumn tree, a sheik in the desert. She’d charm it to dance for a few minutes before it would still again. When she got a divorce, she’d sent him a tiny dancer in a gleaming white wedding dress charmed to play Taps. She’d seen it once. He’d bent over to retrieve a book she’d dropped and it fell out of his shirt, prominently displayed on a delicate chain. She’d excused herself quickly, not wanting to cry in front of him.
“I knew it,” Rose said, crossing her arms in satisfaction. “You like someone. Why don’t you just marry him?”
Hermione wanted to smack her head on the steering wheel. Rose was like Ron in some ways, pouncing on an idea and not letting it go until she was satisfied. There would be no putting her off when she was like this. She sighed and parked the car, trying to delay the inevitable.
“Why not mum?” Rose asked again.
Hermione sighed. “It’s complicated Rose.”
“He doesn’t like you back?”
She laughed at that. “I’m sure he does but liking someone isn’t everything.”
Rose frowned. “Love. Uncle Harry says love is the most important thing. Do you not love him?”
She took a steadying breath. “I do.”
“Does he love you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know sweetheart. I don’t know. Come on now. It’s your first day of school. Let’s get you on that train.”
Rose was practically vibrating she was so excited. Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. They met up with Ron and Jennifer at the entrance to Platform 9 ¾. Hugs were exchanged all around. Hermione grabbed baby Sarafine and bestowed the curly headed girl with a barrage of kisses. She did love Ron’s children, almost as much as her own.
“Ready?” Jennifer asked, clutching little Hugo’s hand like a lifeline.
“They’ll be fine,” Ron said with a goofy grin. “Besides, Rose will beat up anyone who dares to look at her wrong. Right Rosie?”
“Yes dad,” Rose sighed.
Hermione had to smother a smirk. She’d done her part at least. Though they didn’t have any pets, she had taught Rose how to defend herself. With any luck, Scorpius would say something unkind and Rose would teach him a lesson. Ron caught her look and winked, making her giggle. He was still a terrific friend.
They entered the platform together, Ron holding Jennifer close so she could come through without harm. The Hogwarts Express was just as she remembered it. Children ran all over the place, trunks and owl cages in tow. Rose followed behind her solemnly. It was a lot to take in and Rose had always been like her in that aspect, taking everything in before she reacted. Hermione ran a hand through her red curls and smiled.
“You have a wonderful time sweetheart. Write often.”
Rose nodded and hugged her fiercely before grabbing Harry’s eldest son James’ hand. She and James were close. James brought out the daredevil in her and for that Hermione was thankful. She didn’t want Rose to spend her entire life in the library. After all, it wasn’t the library where Hermione had found her love.
“Alright there Hermione,” Harry asked with a grin. He had Lily in his arms. The tiny girl stuck her chubby hands out, begging to be held.
Hermione melted, shifting Sarafine so she could hold them both. She did so love the children, but there was only one man she wanted any more with. She breathed in Lily’s smell and smiled at Harry. Ron came up and patted Harry on the back.
“Hey mate. How’s Gin taking it?”
Harry looked over to see his wife, Albus in tow, as she levitated trunks to be loaded. “She’s okay. Al and Lily keep her busy but you can tell it bothers her.
“James will be just fine,” Hermione said. “You didn’t give him your blasted cloak, did you?” Harry looked sideways and she huffed again. “You gave him the map too, didn’t you?”
Harry gave her a guilty grin. “What?”
Hermione shook her head. “You’ll be in McGonagall’s office in a month.”
Harry shrugged. “Oh well.”
“So that’s little Scorpius?” Ron asked suddenly.
Hermione spun and felt her breath leave. It had been a long time since she’d seen the Malfoys all standing together. Little Scorpius had a neutral look on his face, like he was above it all. He was just as pointed and pale as his father was at that age. She wondered if he was as big of a prat. His mum had her blood red nails nearly digging into his shoulder as she leaned down to tell him something. His jaw tightened and he nodded once. Lucius was there as well, his ever present cane at his side. Oh how she hated that blasted cane. Lucius looked just as polished and immaculate as ever, but his blond hair was white and sparse, his frame thin and frail. She had the cruel thought that she hoped he died soon… for Draco’s sake.
Draco. He looked amazing, as he always did. She wished he wouldn’t slick his hair back though. It made him look so cold and unfeeling, though she supposed he had to. It was what was expected of him after all. She let herself fantasize for just a moment, picturing him with his hair wild and hanging in his eyes, laboring over the keys as he played just for her, speaking the only way he knew how. The music. She was rudely snapped from it by Ron’s muttering.
“Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother’s brains.”
“Ron, for heaven’s sake,” she huffed, not the least bit amused. “Don’t try to turn them against each other before they’ve even started school!”
Ron looked sheepish. “You’re right, sorry. Don’t get too friendly with him, though, Rosie. Granddad Weasley would never forgive you if you married a pureblood.”
“RONALD!” she screeched.
“And that’s my que,” Rose said quickly. “Bye mum, dad. Come on Lisa!”
The two girls ran off, red and mahogany curls bouncing in unison as they rushed onto the train. Scorpius managed to throw off Astoria’s hand and enter behind them silently. Hermione sighed, wishing for the day to be over already. It was too much. She didn’t feel well at all. Her stomach ached and her heart was beating too fast. But she still had to give Draco his gift. He’d managed to get hers delivered already and as silly as it all seemed, she didn’t want him to think she forgot. She handed the girls back to their mothers, feigning being tired.
While the others waved to the kids, she took out a piece of origami paper and folded it up into a box with wings. Then she took out her latest procurement, something she’d found in an old wizarding pawnshop. It was a quidditch player she’d found sporting Slytherin robes. She’d charmed it to look like Scorpius and dance to the tune of the Hogwarts song. She supposed great minds thought alike. After a quick glance around to make sure no one was looking, she tapped it three times and sent it on its way. No one but Draco could collect it but she was wary of anyone noticing where it came from. She breathed a sigh of relief when he caught it and pocketed it with a slight smirk. Just as she turned to leave, she heard her name being called.
“HERMIONE!”
She spun to see Andrei running at her, dodging several people on the platform. She shook her head, thinking all she needed was him here today. He was her best friend but he could be a bit… much. He skidded to a stop a few feet before her, panting.
“Am I too late?” he asked in his thick Russian accent.
She chuckled and pointed to the train where Rose was clambering over her cousins trying to get to him. Andrei tossed his dark curly hair over his shoulder and waved to her, jumping up and down.
“ROSIE!”
“Andrei!” Rose squealed, running straight into his arms. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”
“I almost didn’t,” he chuckled. “But the Company came back just in time. I hopped the nearest port key and came as fast as I could. I couldn’t miss my little koshka’s big day.”
“I missed you,” Rose breathed and hugged him again.
“And I you, printcessa. But we will be together for the holidays. Who will play Clara if we aren’t?”
“You think I’m ready for Clara?”
“Of course you are. And if not, perhaps we can persuade your mother to dance again.”
“That’s not happening,” Hermione said darkly. “I’ve let you completely take over her life but you won’t have a say in mine.”
“Speaking of yours,” he said, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes.
“Oh no,” she said. “We are not doing this here.”
He pouted but Rose looked livid. “He knows? HE knows and I don’t?”
“Andrei,” Hermione growled. “I will hex you for this. And no Rose, he has no idea who it is.”
“But he knew there was someone,” Rose pouted.
“Oh dear God,” Hermione sighed. “You’ve rubbed off on her!”
Andrei grinned and spun Rose around. “I have a gift for you koshka. I want you to use it every day that we’re apart.”
Hermione watched as Andrei took out a beautiful pair of ballet shoes, pale pink and perfect. Rose had tears in her eyes and she hugged them to her, thanking her favorite teacher in blubbering tears. Rose did love to dance. The whistle blew and Rose scrambled aboard, clutching her new shoes to her chest like precious gold.
“You shouldn’t have,” Hermione sighed.
Andrei smiled. “Every ballerina needs a pair of shoes.”
“She has a pair.”
“Yes but those are from Mother Russia, authentic and perfect, just like her.”
Hermione smiled. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. But I must know who the man you’ve been pining over for years is.”
“You won’t,” she said vehemently. “I told you. No one can ever know.”
Andrei glanced around and then grinned. “But I already know my koroleva, for he has a large problem keeping in his love for you.”
Hermione flushed bright red as she caught sight of Draco behind Andrei’s shoulder. He looked ready to murder the Russian dancer. She had to get out of there before anyone else knew.
“Thanks a lot.”
Andrei chuckled and spun her around as she tried to leave, dipping her down from her own momentum. “Not so fast. Why do you not go to this man?”
She pulled herself up and hissed in his ear. “Because he’s married you complete idiot.”
“Doesn’t look like a happy one.”
“It isn’t,” she said hollowly. “But you of all people know how purebloods operate.”
Andrei frowned and nodded, letting go. He was actually blasted off his own family tree because he was gay and refused to marry a Pureblood Russian princess. Instead, he ran off to the ballet and had been doing amazing ever since. Hermione had met him in a search for a ballet school for Rose and they’d been thick as thieves ever since.
“I am sorry,” Andrei said sadly. “Would he consider bucking the system?”
Hermione looked over at Draco again, who was trying not to stare as he surveyed the train getting ready to leave. “He can’t marry less than pure. He’s cursed.”
“Waiting for the fossil with him to die, I imagine.”
“Right in one.”
“He’d never do him the honor,” Andrei growled. “But perhaps he could be persuaded to see what he’s missing.”
“No. I’ll not stoop so low.”
Andrei snorted. “Well, I have something that might take your mind off of things.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “A friend of mine has a contemporary dance studio. They are looking for a choreographer for an upcoming adult production. It’s classy, no funny business, but no big name will take it on. I thought… since you are always looking for another project…”
“That I might take it on?” she said flatly.
“It would be a chance to do what you love.”
“I’m not into hip thrusts.”
“Unless it involves tall, blond, and yummy?”
She smacked him in the stomach and spun around to make her exit. She was spun back again. “Wait until you hear the music koroleva. At least grant me that.”
“It’s not piano, is it?”
“No,” he said with a sad smile. “I know you wouldn’t go within fifty feet of it if it was.”
“Okay,” she sighed. “Just please, let me get out of here.”
Andrei nodded and offered his arm. He might have lost his family name, but his training in etiquette was still in place. He escorted her from the platform and she didn’t miss the way he leered at Draco, like he was taking away a prize. She just knew that her music boxes would stop coming after that. Perhaps it was for the best.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Hermione watched as the dancers paraded around on the stage, fanning themselves. She couldn’t help but move her head to the heavy beat. Andrei had been right. She had loved it. It made her feel like a teenager again, especially the kind of moves it needed. She smiled when the shyest dancer got out in front, caressing her sides and mussing her hair. What Andrei hadn’t mentioned was that this was to be a small skit for a much larger musical. She started bouncing when the chorus came on again.
Reach out and touch me
Before I go insane
Reach out and touch me
Boy don't you make me wait
I'm a diamond and you're so on the money
Reach out and touch me
“You love it,” Andrei growled in her ear.
She jumped and spun. “You scared the shit out of me!”
Andrei laughed. “Sorry. But I was right. You love it.”
“Fine,” she growled. “I love it. Now why are you here trying to scare the hell out of me?”
“This came for you,” Andrei said softly.
Hermione took the letter and headed to her office to read it, dread pooling in her stomach when she saw the Hogwarts seal. She’d seen a few of these since Rose started less than a month ago. Apparently, Scorpius Malfoy was a bigger prat than his father had ever imagined and Rose was more of a hot head than she was, having no problems scrapping with the pointy boy. McGonagall said she would try to handle it but apparently it had gotten beyond her control.
Hermione groaned as she read the letter. Apparently their fights had gotten so out of hand that the two couldn’t even be in the same room together, including the Great Hall. She threw the letter down on the desk, sitting down in a huff. She didn’t know what she was going to do. Ron didn’t seem to mind, merely telling Rose to dial it down and not get caught. She wanted to strangle her ex-husband for that bit of advice. And now it was her turn to go to Hogwarts and meet with the Headmistress. Ron said Astoria had handled the last few visits. She didn’t want to see that vapid woman either.
“I will go with you,” Andrei said from the door.
Hermione sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration. “I can’t ask you to do that. You’re Company is about to leave, isn’t it?”
“Not until tomorrow,” he said, sitting in the chair across from her. “Besides, perhaps she needs a different approach.”
“Like?”
“Perhaps disappointment from her dance teacher… and a goal.”
“What sort of goal?”
“I said Clara, did I not?” Hermione nodded. “Well, Clara must be blemish free, must she not?”
“You plan to dangle the role in front of her.”
“What would you have done in her position?”
Hermione smiled. “You know. You would have made a good Slytherin.”
He scoffed. “Durmstrang love. We’re all practically Slytherins.”
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
“Mrs. Weasley,” McGonagall greeted when she walked in the office.
“It’s Granger actually,” Hermione said meekly, shaking her old professor’s hand. She was keenly aware that they weren’t alone in the room. “This is my friend Andrei Chuchka.”
“Mr. Chuchka, a pleasure,” McGonagall said in a pleasant tone. “I’m afraid the reason for this meeting is not.”
She took her seat behind her desk and motioned for Hermione to sit. Andrei stood behind her and squeezed her shoulder when she noticed that it was not Astoria sitting in the chair this time. It was Draco… and he looked livid.
“How bad has it gotten Headmistress?” Hermione asked, mentally cringing in anticipation.
“I’m afraid that both students are on the brink of expulsion.”
“WHAT?” they screamed.
McGonagall winced at the noise. “I’m afraid so. They have both lost their houses all available points and have been serving detention with Filch since the start of school. There is no other punishment we can garner. I know they are both smart children and I’d hate to have to cut their education short, but they are disrupting the entire school.”
“Can we speak with them?” Andrei asked stiffly.
“That is what I was hoping for,” McGonagall said softly. She clapped her hands and the students entered, each weighed down by one of Hagrid’s hands on their shoulder.
Hermione wanted to throttle Rose but she couldn’t. The girl looked like she’d been through the ringer, split lip, black eye, blood still marring her cheek.
“Koshka,” Andrei growled.
Rose seemed to shrink in on herself, tears forming in her eyes. “Uchitel”
Andrei shook his head. “Not today.”
Hermione wanted to hold Rose as she started crying but she was too furious. Scorpius looked just as bad, perhaps worse. His nose was twice its normal size and still pouring blood. He had two black eyes and scratches to his cheek. His slicked back hair was mussed, reminding her immediately of Draco when he played.
“What happened?” Draco asked, his voice soft and deadly.
“She’s a bloody harpy,” Scorpius growled.
“Harpy!” Rose squealed. “You stupid wanker. You insult my mother and then have the nerve to think you deserve to come out unscathed.”
“What?” Draco hissed. “What did you say?”
Scorpius paled but managed to hold his ground. “I just called it like it was. She’s a mudblood.”
No one reacted faster than Draco, who actually pinned the boy against the wall. Everyone was silent as he all but spat in Scorpius’s face.
“I’m not sure what your grandfather or your mother has been telling you, but you are dead wrong young man. Perhaps I should blame myself for allowing you to listen to them spewing their venom. But no longer. Headmistress, do you happen to have a pensieve?”
“I… why yes Mr. Malfoy. But why do you have need of it?”
Draco turned, his eyes black as night. Hermione shivered at the anger radiating off of it. “I think it’s time to show my son the truth.”
“But Mr. Malfoy! He’s so young!”
Draco sighed. “So was I Headmistress. The pensieve, if you please.”
Hermione shot out of her seat. “Headmistress, if you don’t mind, I’d like to take Rose to the Room Of Requirement to have a chat.”
“Of course,” McGonagall said softly. “Please check in with me when you are done.”
They nodded and exited as quickly as they could. Hermione didn’t want to be there as Scorpius lost his innocence, but it was clear that something would have to give. Lucius had already poisoned the poor boy’s mind and she knew Draco wouldn’t do anything drastic unless he deemed it necessary. Rose was silent as the grave as she led them to the ROR. As she walked back and forth in front of the door, her mind was drawn into the past and the small bit of respite she’d found in a hostile environment. When she entered, she almost ran back out. It was the last room she’d visited, the room she’d said goodbye to Draco in. But she had to face her past sometime.
She sat at the piano bench, mutely listening to Andrei berating her daughter for losing her temper. He pointed out that nothing was ever solved through violence and name calling was a childish attempt at gaining a response. Essentially, Rose was playing right into Scorpius’s hands. Then he dealt the final blow. She’d lost the role as Clara in the Nutcracker suite, the role she’d been practicing for since she’d first seen the ballet at two.
“But… but mum knows how I feel. They used to call her horrible names.”
“And she did not fight,” Andrei snapped. “She turned the other cheek.”
“No, she decked Mr. Malfoy. Dad told me.”
Hermione stood and shook her head. “I decked him because he condemned a poor defenseless creature to death… and gloated about it.”
“She was protecting the poor hippogriff’s honor,” Andrei said with a grin.
Hermione sniffed. “Someone had to.”
Rose sat down in the floor and cried. “But he said such horrible things.”
Hermione sat beside her and drew her into her arms, rubbing her back comfortingly. She knew how much name calling could hurt. “I’m sure whatever he said, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”
“He said you would be of better use as a… a sex slave. Then maybe his dad wouldn’t pine over you.”
“What?” Hermione gasped.
Rose hiccupped. “He said you’re the reason he doesn’t have any siblings. His dad refuses to touch his mum… because you ruined him.”
“H-how did I ruin him?”
“He doesn’t know,” Rose growled. “That’s what’s so stupid. He’s called you every foul name you could think of and some you probably haven’t. Says his grandfather taught him how to treat his lessers. He honestly thinks he’s better than me… because he’s a pureblood.”
“That is an old ideal koshka,” Andrei said softly. “My family thought the same. The truth is, no one is better than the other. In fact, I’m fairly sure your mother could hex me under the table.”
Hermione sighed. “Scorpius has been listening to his grandfather then. Lucius was the ultimate pureblood supremacist, well, supremacist period actually. The Weasleys are just as pureblooded but he looked down on them because they weren’t rich and they welcomed muggles and muggle borns. I’m sure Astoria is no better.”
“Where do they get that idea though?”
“A very old prejudice,” Andrei said. “Stemmed from a hatred of muggles who would persecute them. But in truth, wizards descended from muggles. There is no ultimate pureblood. Even Merlin had regular muggle parents.”
“Really?”
Andrei nodded. “Now, will you please stop brawling like a common thug?”
Rose smiled sheepishly. “Yes Uchitel.”
“Good,” Andrei said. “Now, would you like to see what your mother has been up to?”
“Dad said she got a second job, couldn’t stand being idle.”
Andrei grinned. “Of course she couldn’t. You aren’t there to keep her occupied any longer so I have stolen her. She is creating beautiful dances.”
“You… you’re a choreographer?” Rose asked with wide eyes.
“It isn’t what you think,” Hermione said. “This is a small piece, more… secular.”
“So contemporary then,” Rose said. “When will you teach me contemporary?”
“Now koshka,” Andrei scolded. “You must master your ballet first.”
“I know,” Rose muttered.
Andrei looked up and smirked. “But perhaps your mother would give you a demonstration.”
Hermione narrowed her eyes, wondering what he was up to. “I hardly think-“
“Please mum?” Rose whispered, her eyes darting over to the door. “Please?”
Hermione paled when she saw Draco and Scorpius enter the room silently. “Why?”
“Prove them wrong,” Rose whispered. “You’re just as good.”
“But Rose, my work isn’t ballet or even interpretive. It’s… it’s um…”
“Sexual?” Rose asked with a wide grin.
Hermione blushed to her roots. “Yes.”
“Then prove you don’t care what they think. I think it’ll be wicked.”
“You would,” Hermione murmured.
“Yes, come,” Andrei said, extending a hand. “It is time you finally dance for your daughter.”
“But-“
“Please?” Rose asked hopefully.
“I hardly think that…” she motioned to Draco and Scorpius.
“Oh by all means Granger,” Draco drawled. “Show us.”
Hermione couldn’t look at him. Instead she turned and tried to engulf Andrei’s head in flames with just her eyes but he only laughed and took out a cd player. She sighed and toed her shoes off. It was a good thing she was wearing her dancing clothes under her things. She couldn’t dance in jeans. She reluctantly stripped down to her tights.
“What the bloody-“ Scorpius started only to be cut off by his father’s hand over his mouth.
“Ready maestro?” Hermione asked weakly.
Andrei stripped down to his tights and nodded. “Yes dance mistress. I only hope I do it justice.”
The heavy beat filled the room and Hermione watched as Andrei started strutting around, playing the choreographed part at the beginning perfectly. She started slowly stalking over to him, careful to keep the beat. When she’d come up with it, she didn’t think she’d have to actually perform it in front of anyone besides her dancers. She sashayed, bending low and pretending to hide, standing and pretending to keep friends from getting to her man. She spun, side stepping him before stalking around him. He grinned at her, flexing his muscles, daring her to give it her all.
And all I need is to feel you. All I want is to feel you.
She ran her hand down his shoulder, trying to look as sexy as possible though she was sure she was failing miserably. Now, if he had been Draco… she shivered and Andrei smirked, turning on the charm. So that was his game, possibly making Draco jealous. She almost gulped at the fire in his eyes when he bent her in a dip, bringing her up and around to spin her.
The dance continued, following the subtle push and pull she’d created. It was a story about a girl dying for a guy’s affections. In the bigger musical, the girl was an invisible nerd who was vying for the attention of the school jock. It made her laugh when she read it and she decided then and there to do it. In this number, the girl decided to put on a mask and go for it. She popped her arse out, trying to look enticing, making sure to subtly run her hand over Andrei’s leg as she rose. He chuckled in her ear and spun her before lifting her.
He set her down and began moving to her plan again, posing and trying to coax her back to his place. She tried to convey the slight hesitation of her character, being overcome by the overwhelming feeling of being close to the object of her affection. He reached down and grabbed her chin, placing a soft kiss on her lips. It was in the dance, but it felt wrong to kiss her best friend. He apparently agreed because when he spun her around, his nose wrinkled. She fought hard to keep from laughing and managed to complete the dance, her hanging on to his foot.
Rose jumped up, screaming and yelling how amazing it was. Hermione let Andrei pick her off the floor. She refused to look at Draco, as she had done since the dance first started. Really, all she wanted to do was to run from the room and never look back but she knew that wouldn’t go well. She startled when she heard loud clapping from his direction.
“Impressive,” Draco drawled. “Though he was a bit stiff.”
Andrei sniffed and started forward. Hermione held him back. “He’s a ballet dancer, not a contemporary one. It’s hard to make the cross over.”
Draco narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment. “I beg to differ.”
Scorpius huffed. “No wonder he’s panting after you like a bitch in heat.”
Draco spun, enraged at his son. “What?”
“It’s true,” Scorpius said snottily. “We all know it. She ruined you. Even grandfather said so.”
“After all you’ve just seen,” Draco said slowly. “You still believe your grandfather to be right.” Scorpius wavered, closing his mouth in thought. Draco nodded, indicating a wise choice. “My past is no one’s business. If Granger ruined me, then so be it. She kept me out of Azkaban and for that I will always be thankful.”
“Nothing but a common tart,” Scorpius muttered. “Mother is much better.”
Draco scoffed. “You don’t even like your mother.”
“But she’s got better breeding,” Scorpius said hotly.
“Does she now?” Draco asked softly. “Was she at the top of all of her classes? Did she free a condemned hippogriff, manipulate time, and stand up against a werewolf to free an innocent man? No? Perhaps she stayed up for a week solid searching spells to keep her best friend from being killed in a rigged battle that risked his life? Oh, I know, she stood up to a tyrant, organizing an illegal club to teach her peers how to defend themselves when no one else would. No? Did she battle a group of wizards and witches twice her age because it was the right thing to do? Did she risk life and limb, starve to death for months on end only to be tortured within an inch of her life so a homicidal mad man could be taken out?”
Scorpius looked like he was on the verge of tears. Draco sighed and walked over to the piano, fingering the keys but not playing. “She’ll always be your mother Scorpius, your family. But breeding is about much more than the proper birth rights, blood purity, or how much money you have in Gringotts. We fought a war that proved it. One very sexy dance doesn’t prove anything beyond the fact that Granger is indeed very talented. I assume you’ve encouraged these things in your daughter, Granger?”
Hermione nodded, unable to speak. Draco smiled and looked at Rose. “Well young lady, what sort of dance do you study?”
“Ballet,” Rose said quietly.
“Are you good?” Draco asked, the same soft smile on his face.
Rose looked away. “I was playing Clara.”
“Was?”
Rose glared at Scorpius. “I lost it because I fought.”
“Ballerinas do not fight,” Andrei growled. “But, if you can curb your reckless behavior, we will reconsider your position.”
Rose looked like she was going to cry again. “Really?”
Andrei nodded and laughed when Rose launched herself at him. “Easy koshka. You would not want to break me before I leave.”
“When will you be back?” Rose asked warily.
Andrei chuckled. “Two months. I shall return in time to start the Nutcracker. You have until then to keep your nose clean… and blood free.”
“Yes sir.”
“Why not the Sugar Plum fairy?” Draco asked. “Isn’t that the best role?”
“I’m not good enough for that,” Rose said in a rush. “That’s reserved for the best dancers, the most talented in the Company. I’m only a junior dancer.”
“But you know the part, I’d imagine,” Draco led.
“Of course,” Rose said haughtily but deflated rather quickly. “At least, I knew last year’s performance.”
“That’s the good thing about music,” Draco said with a chuckle. “The tune stays the same, even though the dance might not. Would you consider dancing for me?”
Rose’s eyes widened. “W-why?”
“I do so love a good ballet,” Draco said softly. “And… since there can’t be a ballerina without music, Scorpius will play for you.”
“I’ll what?” Scorpius squeaked.
Draco smirked at him. “Scared?”
“Of course not,” Scorpius growled.
Draco stood and bowed, motioning to his son that the piano was his. Rose toed off her trainers and pulled an old pair of beat up ballet shoes from her satchel. Andrei quirked an eyebrow and she flushed but put them on anyway. Hermione could relate. Rose wouldn’t want to mess up such beautiful shoes. Rose took her position, not an ounce of fear on her face though Hermione could tell she was nervous. She always was… until she got started. Then she lost herself.
Scorpius waited for her nod and began playing. It was stilted at first, but he managed to clean it up after the first few measures. Hermione couldn’t hold back her tears as Rose began a beautiful routine, throwing herself into the music, giving it her all. Scorpius’s slicked back hair started to slip as he put more emotions in his playing. He kept looking at Rose in awe, like he hadn’t seen her before that day. It was… history repeating itself and though her heart broke, it was also filled with joy. A handkerchief waved in front of her and she graciously took it.
“I thought that might work,” Draco whispered in her ear. “It did once before.”
Hermione nodded and dabbed her eyes, clapping loudly when the music ended. Even Scorpius clapped for Rose, shocking the little red head into grinning at him and giving him applause as well.
“You see,” Draco said, motioning for Scorpius to get up. “There is more to breeding than blood and politics. Have you ever seen a performance so uplifting?”
Scorpius’s pale cheeks tinged with pink. “I… I’m sorry Weasley. You… you dance beautifully.”
Rose blushed in return. “T-thanks Malfoy. Where did you learn to play like that?”
Scorpius pointed at his dad and then looked at him for a long time. “How… how did she ruin you father?”
Draco sighed and shrugged off his robes. “Once for old time sake, Granger?”
Hermione couldn’t turn it down, watching him sit at the bench and begin taking off his shirt, followed by his shoes and socks. He was much more fit now, his thin frame filled out with age and health. She had the insane wish that he’d take the vest off, but knew that he wouldn’t.
Draco stretched his fingers a few minutes, giving Hermione a chance to calm her jitters. Then he turned to the children. “You will not breathe a word of this to anyone, understood?” Both students nodded emphatically. He turned to Andrei “And your boyfriend?”
Andrei chuckled. “I promise I will not tell my boyfriend. Besides, he wouldn’t believe Hermione actually danced to the piano again.”
Draco’s confounded look cleared immediately and his head snapped back to Hermione. “What?”
Andrei cleared his throat. “She has not danced to the piano one time since she graduated from this school, refuses actually. It’s cost her more than one job.”
“I have a job,” Hermione growled.
“Saving poor creatures at the Ministry,” Draco said affectionately. “Well, it isn’t a march, but try to interpret this if you will.”
She almost cried when she heard the first strains of Clair de Lune. It was the perfect song for storytelling. She started with her first day at Hogwarts, the wonder of magic, the joy of new friends, and the confusion of a boy who tormented her. As the music swelled, she mimicked the war, training and fighting, running and ducking. She leapt and pirouetted, diving into a crawl before sneaking away. Then she found respite in the room with a wonderful pianist in a light strain. She danced for him, having to return to the fight despite wanting to stay during another swell. She tried as best she could to tell the story, spinning and falling, being captured by the snatchers only to be spared by his wand. Then the war was over. And she saw him again, but they were with different people on different paths that couldn’t cross. They did what had to be done. They had children and taught them as well as they knew. They sent gifts, mementos of the past and thoughts of the future they could have had. Then came the bitter sweet moment when they met again, sending their children off to school, still unable to be together. She ended the song with one last look towards the piano.
When the last note died out, there was silence. She was panting hard, unbelieving of what she’d just done. She had to wipe the tears from her eyes so she could see what was happening. Draco was crying as well. Andrei was practically blubbering. But it was seeing Rose and Scorpius’s faces wet with tears that broke her heart. She hadn’t meant to go quite that far, reveal so much.
Scorpius was breathing hard, shaking his head in denial. “W-why didn’t you just get married?”
“Couldn’t,” Draco said hoarsely. “Still can’t. There is a curse Scorpius. No marriage, no children of less than pure blood, lest they die. It was the only way to inherit, to continue our line.”
“So I’m what, a means-“
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me,” Draco said fiercely. “I love you son. And I wouldn’t give you up for anything. Never forget that. Neither would I degrade Granger by asking her to become some dirty secret with nothing to show for it except a broken heart. I’m a selfish bastard, but even I couldn’t do that. Besides, I’m fairly certain that Lucius wouldn’t stop at blasting me from the tree.”
Scorpius brushed the tears from his eyes, staring at his father as if he’d never seen him before in his life. Hermione wondered if he’d ever seen his father cry. Had she been the only one? Well, her and Harry… and Myrtle. So many memories came flooding back, things she tried hard to forget. At least she knew why he hadn’t asked her to become his lover. She couldn’t imagine accidentally getting pregnant and losing the baby to some horrible curse. Or worse, Lucius trying to kill Draco for going against his decree. And while she was glad he had her interests at heart, she wished he would have told her. She might have allowed it, but if not, at least she would know that he still wanted her.
“I can see why you refuse to dance to piano now,” Andrei croaked. “It is hard to settle when you’ve experienced the best.”
“That’s why you divorced dad,” Rose whispered. “You didn’t love him.”
“I did,” Hermione said. “I loved him very much… but not the way I should have. Darling, one day you will discover that there are many different types of love.”
“Dad is your friend,” Rose said finally. “But not husband material.”
Hermione frowned. “You really need to stop hanging around your Aunt Ginny.”
Rose smiled and dried her tears. “I like her though.”
Hermione clicked her tongue and summoned her clothes. “I… I think that’s my limit for the day.”
Draco sighed and stood, dressing with her in silence. When they were presentable, they all ventured back into the Headmistress’s office. The children promised to get along from then on. It was an amazing transformation, McGonagall said.
“Music can change everything,” Hermione murmured before leaving, Andrei in tow. She hoped she wouldn’t run into Draco again. It hurt too bloody much.

AN: Muahaha. I said that I wrote it TO another ending, not rewrote a happy ending. I know. I'm evil. Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I love them so very much. Keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys!
Playlist:
Wedding march in minor key ( you can look this one up on Youtube under four marches in minor.)

Brahm’s Lullaby

Hallelujah Chorus

Hillary Duff – Reach out

Tchaikovsky – Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy

Debussy – Clair de Lune
****Psst. This isn't the end either. *wink*
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The Pianist