A Whispered Confession Can Change Everything

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Chapter 5

Ron immediately pounced as soon as they settled into the train, “What the bloody hell was that all about?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, twirling her finger around a frizzy lock of hair. She tugged lightly on the strand, then started twirling again, “Parkinson is my pen-owl for the summer. She was making arrangements.” She bit her lip and glanced away. She hated secrets. Hated keeping things from her friends. But she just knew this was something Ronald Weasley would not understand. As far as the redhead would be concerned, he’d see Malfoy dead or worse, back with Lucius before he’d ever think charitably about him. Not that either of them had told him what happened to the Slytherin. It had been an unspoken agreement between Harry and herself that their dealings with Draco would be kept quiet.

Ron pouted, voice taking on a lecturing tone as he rooted around in his nap sack. She mentally scoffed at that notion since he never listened to any of her lectures, “She’s still the enemy, remember that- oh bloody hell! I got Goyle. What am I going to talk to that big ape about?”

Tugging on her locks, immersing herself in her history book, “Chocolate frogs?”

Ron’s face scrunched up for a moment, “Guess that could work. He and Crabbe eat more than the entire hall put together.” Harry chuckled softly, leaning back and chewing on a licorice whip. Stuffing the golden note back in his bag and shaking his head, “And you got Parkinson. Who’d you get Harry?”

Harry smiled to himself, pushing his glasses up his nose and digging around in his beat up satchel. He already knew but he pulled it out with a flourish, squinting for show, “Hmm...let’s see...” Looking over his glasses before furrowing his brow and looking back through them again, “Well...I’ll give you a hint...he got us that detention in the forbidden forest with Hagrid first year.”

Ron gaped, scrambling across the seat and snatching it before groaning and throwing it at Harry’s chest in disgust, “Malfoy! Ugh...this is Dumbledore’s idea of a joke!”

Shrugging, tucking the note back in his bag, “Well, it would have to be a different house, otherwise what would be the point?”

Grumbling, “Sticking us with a bunch of Slytherins. And you got Malfoy... poor bastard...”

Smirking just a little, “Yeah, I know...but don’t pity him too much, Ron, we might start to think you like him.” Hermione giggled softly, pressing her nose firmly in her book and watching as the two boys wrestled one another in their seat.

***

“I want you to do one favor for me, Draco.” The blond glanced at Pansy, even as she brushed down her wizarding robes and straightened her hair. Both of them ignored McGonagall who could hear every word, “I will find a way to write to you and until you hear from me I want you to consider something. Consider that if your father was wrong to treat you the way he has, maybe he’s wrong about the importance of blood.” She looked him directly in the eye, acting truly un-Slytherin-like in laying down all of her cards, “I will never be a Death eater. Not because I can’t or won’t kill if even because killing someone for the sake of who their parents are is wrong...but because the glorification of it is.”

Swallowing heavily, holding his hand out, palm down, “I will.” She nodded in turn, holding out her arm palm up and each grasping the other’s forearm in silent farewell. Just as quickly as they touched they released one another. Draco gave a shy wave behind Professor McGonagall, watching as his friend squared her shoulders and confidently stalked to her waiting parents, the three of them disapparating a moment later. They were the last to leave, all the other students having been collected some time ago. Sighing softly, squaring his own shoulders and collecting his aloofness together like a shield, “Where are we going, Professor?”

Minerva looked down at the curious youngling. She didn’t think she would ever completely grow accustomed to how his grey eyes seemed to pierce to her very soul, “Have you ever been to muggle London, Mr. Malfoy?” Draco silently shook his head, watching her carefully and internally flinching. He wanted to make a face, he really did, “Well, how about if I show you around a bit, then we’ll accomplish my errands. I might even be persuaded to allow you to purchase something at a toy store.”

Wrinkling his nose in confusion, “What is the purpose of a toy store?”

Shooting him an alarmed look, she quickly realized he honestly had no idea what a toy was. Calming the anger rising in her belly about a certain pureblood son of a bitch, “It is a store where you find and purchase things to entertain yourself with.”

Frowning, “Like books and wizarding puzzles?”

“Yes...but there are other things, ones that have no educational purpose but are simply done for
enjoyment.”

Nodding, “Oh, like music.”

Tilting her head, “Music, Mr. Malfoy?”

Reciting what he’d heard countless times before with a sigh, “Of course. Musical instruments...singing... they have no place in society except for mindless nonsense.”

She reached out for his hand and after a moment he warily took it, the two of them calmly walking for the exit. She took her wand and flicked it once, their distinctive wizarding clothing shifting to simple muggle ones. Tucking her wand away and adjusting her much less distinctive hat, “Music does have it’s place, Mr. Malfoy...music allows for hope to be voiced and heard when words and simple speeches fail. Music can convey more emotion in a few moments than an aerator could ever hope to convey in a lifetime.”

Draco sighed softly, taking in her words wistfully and idly fingering the cotton shirt he now wore, “I wish I could sing.”

Raising an eyebrow, leading him through the train depot, “Can you not?” Shrugging a little, eyes moving to observe the muggles around them even as his hand tightened it’s hold on her own. Minerva watched him carefully, realizing after a moment he was distinctly nervous. Especially considering the way he was almost pressing against her, seeking reassurance. He didn’t reply, eyes flittering this way and that. Wordlessly she stopped, he forced to do so because she had. Still holding his hand, she moved her arm to casually loop around his neck in a half hug and he immediately pressed more firmly to her with an almost audible whimper. Speaking quietly, “Mr. Malfoy, while you are still too young to use your wand outside of school I am not. You are completely safe in my care.”

He watched her carefully, fear still in his eyes but after a moment he nodded and breathed deeply. He didn’t relax, but his hand was no longer holding onto her in a stranglehold. They started moving again, Minerva keeping her arm where it lay, “You had...I don’t really know if I can sing. I’ve never been taught.” This conversation tickled in the back of her mind. She knew enough of this boy to know that every conversation had a purpose. He never made idle talk, which meant that if he was speaking of music, that it was more than just a passing fancy. Which actually surprised her more than a little. It was well known that children were placed in their houses because of their gifts as well as their weaknesses. Only Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs had the gift of music. Usually.

“Mr. Malfoy, would you like to stop by a musical shop?” He looked up at her in wonder before lowering his head and slowly nodding as if ashamed. Coming to a decision, “Then we shall.”

***

Quite frankly Draco was stunned. The shop itself was quite plain, and filled to the rafters with different instruments and an endless array of sheet music. Minerva was fingering through a selection while Draco slowly ventured away from her. He walked down each aisle, carefully looking over each piece with a touch of reverence, while still looking back to make sure she hadn’t disappeared. He was so captured by the intricate keys of a saxophone that he didn’t even see the person next to him until he bumped into her.

Jumping back a little, bowing slightly. He may not know or like muggles but public prodical left him with no choice but to be exceptionally civil, “My apologies. I didn’t see you.” He tensed to duck or run, watching for the slightly bit of aggression towards him.

The tall woman gave him a small smile, body relaxed and attire as muggle as everything else here but she had the distinct aristocratic air that he recognized instantly. Could she be a witch, perhaps one he didn’t recognize, “No harm, Master Malfoy.”

She didn’t strike him as a servant nor an underclass, so she must simply be respectful. But she knew his name so she couldn’t be a muggle and he relaxed. His head tilted a little with a frown, “You know of me?”

Her smile widened as she moved gracefully towards the string instruments, “There are not many that wouldn’t.”

Draco’s breath caught in his throat when he caught sight of the most enchanting thing he had ever seen. He eyed it from every angle, the violin suspended in glass and impossible to touch, no matter how interested in it he was. Minerva frowned, spotting the two of them and moving over quickly. She paused when the woman looked at her and winked, before glancing down at Draco who seemed mesmerized, “Can I have that?” McGonagall watched her right hand, the ring on her middle finger. The signet of the council. And since she knew of every member, this could be the elusive new mistress she had only heard about. But appearances were very deceiving and Albus would never forgive her if something happened to Draco while in her care...she would never forgive herself. His finger shook a little, carefully touching the edge of the glass, “It’s so...beautiful...”

Minerva glanced at the price tag and felt her mouth tighten. In a lifetime she would never earn enough to afford it, “Do you play, young master?”

He shook his head sadly, “I’ve never touched one before.”

Gesturing for the clerk to advance, “He’ll see this one.” The young man stuttered, clearly torn while this mysterious woman placed a pouch on the counter, opening it enough to secretly reveal it teeming with galleons, “He will see this one. Now.” Nodding, the clerk opened the case and carefully pulled out the violin. He knew those were one of those bottomless Gringott’s pouches, after all he did have customers both muggle and wizard alike. Minerva put protective hands on Draco’s shoulders, pulling the boy back. Turning with a small smile, “Aurora Nightly, Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, you’ve nothing to fear from me.”

Minerva’s eyes widened just a little. So it was the infamous new mistress of the council. Draco ignored
them both, mesmerized by the instrument. His eyes widened, carefully taking the glossy wood in hand and the bow in the other. Minerva released him, still watching over him closely. Following his instinct, he tucked it under his chin, his fingers gliding over the strings while he pressed the bow gently over them. Closing his eyes, feeling something inside of him sigh, he moving the bow, his fingers pressing into the strings.

And behind his closed eyes color and music flowed around him and through him. It was star bursts, volcanic eruption, the end of the world and the beginning all over again. He was suddenly attuned to everything and nothing and he did not even feel his soul weeping in relief after going so long without this wondrous feeling. Minerva paid no heed to the tears falling down her cheeks, hands over her mouth to contain her gasp. The boy was a musical prodigy. There were no two ways about it. She could nearly visualize his music...and it was so breath-takingly despondent.

Aurora smiled tightly, barely containing her emotions, “He’ll have it.”

Draco snapped his eyes open, reverently holding onto the instrument and staring at this strange woman in awe. He glanced over at the price tag, even his eyes widening at the price. His own parents were never so extravagant. Swallowing, remembering that he wasn’t technically a Malfoy anymore and his decadent lifestyle had pretty much ground to a halt, “I don’t have the money.” Then whispering harshly, holding it more firmly to his chest, “But I do want it.” The thought of running out the door with it briefly flashed through his mind.

The tall woman knelt down, looking clearly into his eyes, “Do not concern yourself. It is of no importance to me.”

Looking wary, not used to strangers buying him things that hadn’t wanted to get into his father’s good graces, “Why?”

”Young Mr. Malfoy, I am older than you think and this...this price is of no consequence. All I ask, young Master, is that you treat it with care...and maybe someday you will play for me again.” Her eyes were so green and so sharp they nearly took his breath away. He could do little more than nod and watch as she turned to the clerk and settled up the purchase.

Shaking his head to clear it, carefully placing the violin in it’s case. He was used to a formal show of thanks or even an exchange of favors for what he wanted. He didn’t have anything anymore and she didn’t seem to require that he did. Facing her fully and meaning it for the first time in his life, “Thank you...for giving it to me.”

She smiled and lay a gentle hand on his head, her thumb brushing feather light against his temple. He felt a sense of calm wash over his being from the simple touch, all of his worrying thoughts drifting to the back of his mind, “It was meant for you.”