Malfoy's Moon

pianos and ghosts

The sky darkens in the heat of the night and Filch prowls the corridors for remaining students still out of bed.

She had spent dinner in the library, knowing it would be empty from students. She'd laid there in the same spot she had the day before, although with the absence of Malfoy. Spreading out several books in front of her, she'd tried to get lost in them, let the ink and words consume as they most usually did, but her thoughts that night were distracted, a certain face constantly swimming to the front of her consciousness.

Abandoning the idea of escaping through reading, she leaves the library, moving in the direction of her common room.

She stops dead, mid-step, when some light trickles of piano notes melt in the walls of her ears. Without thinking, she follows them, the honeyed, mellifluent notes replacing the thoughts in her mind.

The dulcet music leads her to a room, one she's never been in before, never seen before.

The walls and ceiling hold intricately carved images, ones she can trace her hand over, and grand chandeliers with diamonds that somehow did not sparkle much in the dim room.

A black piano is in the corner, under a spell to play music by itself, like some lonely ghost relishing in centuries worth of piano notes.

But, none of this matters. What matters, what draws her attention like some magnet, is the one standing in the middle of the room, his silver eyes all hers.

"This is an old ballroom," he says, answering her unasked question. "Been empty for years."

She walks forward until she's standing right in front of him, and he outstretches his arm.

"Let's do this properly, yeah?" He says quietly.

The corners of her lips turn upward just slightly in some sad, tragic way and he envelopes her waist with his arms. Just because it feels so natural to do, she wraps his neck with her arms and pulls him closer so that their heat is shared. And they move, slightly swaying to the music.

"You finally look me in the eyes while dancing, does this mean you're less intimidated by me?" He says in a poised tone.

"Who says I was ever intimidated by you?" She says in a scoffing tone.

"I think it means something else."

"Yeah?"

He lowers his head until his lips are right next to her ear. "You're falling for me."

"And if that's true, what would you say?" She says, mockingly.

"I'd say I'm flattered, but I still despise you." He says, lining the inside of his mouth with his tongue as he smirks.

"Well then I'd say likewise." She says, her lips tugging upwards into a real smile.

Was there anything in the letters, anything in the conversations with Crouch, about dancing with the one she was supposed to bring to death? After all, there was nothing in the letters about being afraid to let go of his hand, or feeling flutters in her stomach whenever he kissed her even though she knew she was supposed to be numb and unresponsive.

She feels her wand in her pocket, knows she could take it out and Stun him, make him drop unconscious in her arms. Especially now, when he was so indulged with her. She can tell, can see how lost and caught up he is in her eyes.

So vulnerable, so lost, so trusting even though she's been close to capturing him three times.

Yet, the only thing she's ever captured was that treacherous beater in his rib cage. 

a/n: sorry this was such a short chapter! also i'm so obsessed with the song "reflections" ugh