Music of the Heart

~Music of the Heart - ElfHybrid / Marielle


~Chapter 1 - Fire and ice~ / Poison
Harry sat listening to his favourite music.It was the end of the hot, dull summer,and he wanted to drench himself in his Muggle music,before turning to the one placed he called home, the one place where Dudleys old discarded discman didn't work, Hogwarts.Sirius had surprisingly had a big stash of old vinyl records,(Actually Harry was more surprized that Mundungus hadn't been there to lift it after Sirius' death,but he suspected it had something to do with Dumbledore),and he'd used a fair share of his summer money to buy a record player,and other cd's. His uncle had been less than happy, but for Harry to sit quietly in his room,and listen to music without doing any you-know-what, was their idea of a as good as perfect summer holiday.
Harry secretly hoped they'd forget him at home and go on a week long holiday,leaving him in peace.He turned off his vinylplayer,and took the discman out of it's charger. As he pushed play, a song that reminded him almost too much of the one person he longed for, streamed into his ears. Alice Cooper sang of Poison,and Harry thought he couldn't be more right.

Your cruel device
Your blood like ice

One look could kill
My pain your thrill

I wanna love you but I better not touch
I wanna hold you but my senses tell me to stop
I wanna kiss you but I want it too much
I wanna taste you but your lips are venomous poison
You're poison running through my veins
You're poison
I don't wanna break these chains

Your mouth so hot
Your web I'm caught
Your skin so wet
Black lace on sweat
I hear you calling and it's needles and pins
I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name

Don't want to touch you but you're under my skin
You're poison

As Alice Coopers voice faded, Harry couldn't help but headbang just a little bit.He changed the record to Whitesnake,and put on the now so familiar tune. The name itself made him think of the object of desire. He had only realized just before leaving school for summerbreak. He had told no one. And who could blame him? The snake had slithered it's course into Harry's deepest rooms in his heart. There was no way he could forget it.The eyes, the walk, the poise, the grace, the refinement.. Harry could daydream about him for ever. The most beautiful person he knew of.
Draco Malfoy.Everytime he thought of him, Harry got goosebumps. He had spent the summer fantasizing that maybe..just maybe Malfoy would be nicer this year,and that maybe,maybe they would be friends. And then..maybe..He sighed.

You took my breath away
Knew you name was trouble,but my heart got in the way

Give me all your love tonight
I'll do anything you want,just give me all of your loving tonight

The track ended, switching to a lesser favourite of Harry's, allthough he found it descriptive of his state of mind.

Du
Du hasst
Du hasst mich

He sighed even deeper.Malfoy had him allright. How no one knew was a miracle. The whole thing must have been glowing in him like slow coal,burning and burning,and then exploding in mad,passionate flames. He had always had a certain passion when it came to Malfoy.To outshine him, bother him..pester him,show him what's right,what's real. He supposed it was the same thing as pulling on the girls' pigtails. He just couldn't not know what Malfoy did,had,owned,bought,or had as a personal best.
He had to beat him, and so win his attention.He knew now it was the worst way possible to get Malfoy's attention, seeing how he also had the need to be the best.He clinged to his music, paining himself knowingly, dragging the pain out, replaying every single Malfoymoment in his head,over and over and over. He needed his music. Why couldn't his music be at his school as well?How would he do without his music?
He decided to write Hermione. She'd know what to do. "Hi Hermione.How are you?I'm bored stiff.Is there any way I can bring cd's and old records into school?Harry." Hedwig seemed rather happy to strecth her wings,and took off after a soft hoot. Harry sat in the windowsill,looking down on the dozing streets, discman perched in his lap. "...If I could be like that...just to live one day in those shoes..If I could be like that..what would I do..?" Harry hummed more than sang,his voice soft and pleading.He hummed as he changed song,feeling more depressed with each new click. He missed him.He missed Draco Malfoy, and it hurt.

You're getting closer
to pushing me off of life's little edge
coz' I'm a loser
sonoer or later you know I'll be dead

This is getting old
I can't chains break these chains I hold
My body's getting cold
There's nothing left of my mind or soul

Harry knew what the singer meant.Everything he ate,drank,breathed was Malfoy. He saw Malfoy in every blond hair on the TV or outside.And everytime the person turned around he was disappointed.He dreamt of Malfoy.Malfoy smiling,Malfoy laughing,Malfoy close.. He couldn't breathe properly when he thought of him, and it felt like he couldn't breathe at all if he tried not to think of him. He couldn't help but daydream,and smiling sheepishly whenever the daydream ended in a kiss.
He had even stayed up late each night to watch tv, hoping and dreading there would be something about him on the news.Voldemorts killing spree would hopefully never touch Malfoy, but .. he longed for him so.He couldn't explain it, but ..He had seen Malfoy practically every day for the last months.And to realize,only days before departure that he was in love with him, not being able to talk about it..resolve it..and then,suddenly having to leave him, not being able to see him, nor his friends for two months.It was pain.
Harry had had a lot of time to think. He was still uncertain as to what he should do. He couldn't tell Ron, nor Hermione. How could he? He couldn't count the times Malfoy had mocked them, their families and tried to humiliate them.Of course,he had been taught that way,he defended Malfoy in his mind. He couldn't help it.He had tried to stay realistic over the summer, but it was increasingly difficult to not dream away,to not worship him,when he didn't have Malfoys snide remarks or Hermione and Rons sensible comments in his ears.
It had grown from a crush,and Harry had embraced it, though all the while deadly afraid. He couldn't see anything good coming from it.Ever. Sirius,and his father...how disappointed they would've been in him. A silent tear emerged,and ran down Harrys cheek, landing on his black t-shirt. There was a picture of what seemed like a huge black wolfhound with a large moon as background on it. The wolfhound had reminded him of Sirius,and made him buy it, even though the Dursleys had scowled at it.
Harry had been left alone more often after all the things that had happened.He had been slightly more pushy to get what he wanted as well.The Dursleys now even gave him pocket money when he was home. He had Sirius to thank for that. The alleged mass murderer, best friend to his father, escpaing and then dying..Reckless,freedom loving..
How would he have turned out,if not for the backstabber Pettigrew?Harry blinked. Don't think of him now.Think of Draco.The picture of a pale blonde boy,smiling mischievously,filled Harrys mind as he lay down on the bed and fell asleep.

Poison in my veins

Harry woke with a start.Hedwig had a thick envelope tied to her,and was nibbling his arm for him to wake up. He gave her an owl treat, still slightly dazed from the nap. The envelope came from Hermione all right, he recognized the writing. He ripped it open, and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before starting to read it. "Hi Harry.We're fine too.You can of course bring them, it's just that they won't work.I can't find any spells to make it work with either.I asked Mr Weasley,and he said bewitching Muggle artefacts can be potentially dangerous.He asked you to remember Sirius' mums biting teacups,and Mundungus' toilets? I'd ask Dumbledore,but I'm not sure how much he knows about cdplayers. We're all going to Diagon alley by Floo powder, hope to meet you there? Let me know. Hug,Hermione."
Harry frowned. "We're fine...We're all going..I asked Mr.Weasley.." She was at Ron's,and he wasn't invited. He didn't really wonder why, after Ron and Hermione finally got together,it had been hard to get to Ron alone. Hermione had become the sort of girl she'd snorted at before, clinging to her boyfriend,and never leaving him alone,and.. He trailed out of his bitter outlet.It wasn't their fault. The Weasleys had enough to deal with at the moment. But not even an invite from where he had his second home?He was hurt even more so by the lack of apology.

The days went quicker and quicker,summer turning into fall,and two weeks before term start,Harry decided he had to write Dumbledore. Harry had still not answered Ron and Hermiones note,and they hadn't written him again.He felt a bit scorned by it.He listened to Dido singing a thank you..singing about a waving white flag,declaring surrender, and in the course of the two songs he crumpled up at least six pieces of parchment. Finally he was satisfied enough to send it.
"Dear Professor Dumbledore.I know Muggle musicplayers usually won't work at Hogwarts.This summer I have listened to the records I inherited from Sirius,and I've bought some myself.I feel like they help me cope with everything.Is there any way you could make them work in Hogwarts as well? Hope you are well.Best wishes,Harry Potter."
He was embarrased to write it, laying him bare as it did,but he hoped Dumbledore would sense the sincerety,and grant him his wish.He thought "best wishes" sounded a little cold, but he didn't feel like writing "love,Harry" or anything like that. His love was all for Malfoy.He knew it was stupid,but he couldn't help it.Everything was about Malfoy.He couldn't breathe before thinking about him. Harry dreaded the day he would get to see him again, knowing that putting Malfoy up on a pedestal all summer wasn't the brainiest thing to do.He knew he'd get a snide remark.Or two.Or thirteen.And Harry had no idea how he would respond.
It would hurt him,he was certain of that, but he didn't know for sure.The only thing Malfoy could do, that would be worse than anything,was to ignore him.That scared Harry more than anything.

Maybe it would have passed when he got there. Atleast that's what he used to think.Now,he thought,even if he could go back to not loving Malfoy,he wasn't sure if he would.He was bitterly ashamed and filled with selfloathing about this.He knew he couldn't do magic outside school,but he carried his wand with him always.He used to sit on the swing in the playground at night,discman in his lap,humming to the music.
Lately he had started doing things he knew weren't good. Not healthy, and not good at all. But it made him feel like he had some sort of control. He couldn't control the death of neither his parents,Cedric,nor Sirius. He couldn't control Voldemort. Or Tom Riddle, as he had started to try to call him as often as he could.He had a distinct feeling Tom Riddle wouldn't like that. And he least of all could control the pain he got from loving Draco Malfoy. But this..this pain..he could control that. He knew it was probably the least smart thing to do, but he was addicted.

It had started so lightly, a tiny pinch in his own arm whenever he was mad or sad, to keep from shouting or crying. Digging his fingernails so hard into the palms of his fists he bled. Then, it had escalated. He had started making deliberate paper cuts. Back then, it had helped so much. Now, he needed to see the blood trinkle.Not a lot, just a few drops. It was mostly about controlling the pain.Taking control over the pain felt like taking control over all the things he couldn't control.
It made him feel stronger.Like he was strong. He knew the cutting, the self-harming..he knew that it wasn't an illness,but a symptom that something's wrong. No duh, he thought to himself. Just the usual, saving the world from an evil wizard, being gay and in love with the second worst person in the world, losing his friends to eachother, not having a real home, and trying to grow up all at once..The usual.
Three days went by.Harry sat longingly in the windowsill, black-clad as usual, staring down at Privet drive, and it's wannabe-normal inhabitants. He despised them suddenly.All wanting to be the same, one big flock of sheep. He was starting to hate them. He cut. His underarms were now always covered.Red streaks, some parallell, some across eacother, short ones, long ones, white scars, red fresh wounds, it decorated his underarms,his legs,his thighs,his tummy. His left arm had a very clear "D" marked on it, scars intertwining to a jagged letter. On his right, a red "M" was still swollen, only hours old. It made him feel stronger. It was for him, as well. He had marked himself. Property of. To Harry,it felt like a talisman. It empowered him. He knew it was stupid,especially after the whole ordeal in fifth grade,with Umbridge and the scars she put on him.But it was all he had.
Harry lay in his bed, listening to Mew - Comforting sounds, which actually were comforting, when there was a swift rap on his closed window. A prominent Hogwart's owl delievered him his letter, and waited for the reply. Harry offered the owl some treats and Hedwigs bowl of water, which Hedwig somehow reluctantly let go of.
"Dear Harry.Yes, there's a way. I am glad you've found an outlet in music, and not in something more harmful. " At this, Harry flinched guiltily. "I hope you know I'm available if you aren't that well after all." Harry could almost feel the Headmasters piercing gaze. "The spell is Artefactum Reficio, with the same swish and flick as the Wingardium Leviosa spell, which I trust you remember.This will only work for simple electric items, like a dicsman,or clockradio.Not TV's or big things like that,Im afraid. I am well, thank you. Chocolate frog. Albus Dumbledore." He smiled. Dumbledore liked candy. Every password he'd told Harry had been a sort of sweet. "Thank you. I will." On impulse,he found what was left of a bag of sherbet lemons, and wrapped it inside the letter, before sending it back,the owl looking strangely lopsided,losing somewhat of it's dignity in the strange manner of flight.

Harry sat for days swishing and flicking,crammed everything into his trunk,and waited. He almost reluctantly sent Hermione and Ron a note,telling them he'd be going into Diagon alley the next day. He went downstairs, wanting to give his uncle some time to complain about having to drive him, so that he would actually do it.The door bell rang. His expression when he came down the stairs and saw the familiar face of Hagrid, taking up most of the doorway,and then some, were priceless.
"Oyh,Harry.Thought I'd come and pick you up,you packed and stuff?" Harrys face split in a wide grin. "Of course!For days!" Hagrid, who wasn't too keen on coming into the Dursley house,(the Dursleys wasn't too keen on having him in either) waited outside,while Harry picked up everything, wand,cloak,trunk,money and birdcage. He hesitated when he was to leave. "Eh..well,see you." He set a gaze at aunt Petunia. "Take care." Her eyebrows lifted in surprize, such a sign of affection had never been exchanged between the two, as there had been no affection between them. But Harry had thought a lot the last months. His mother wouldn't have wanted him to hate them, even though he had good reason to do so. She were,after all, family. "You too." She awkwardly placed a hand on Harrys shoulder, before uncle Vernon pushed him outside.
He took a long glance at the door before trotting after Hagrid, who were down the road already,sticking his umbrella out clearly in the road. "The knight bus?" Harry queried. He wasn't overjoyed.He remembered, quite vividly, slamming into windows, not only once but atleast thrice.

They arrived at the Leaky cauldron about a quarter to ten. They got two rooms, one with a gigantic bed for Hagrid, and one next door with a normally sized bed for Harry. After placing the luggage,they went downstairs. Hagrid wanted a Firewhiskey to strengthen himself before escorting Harry into Gringotts the next morning. Hagrid hated those little carts, always going full-speed ahead,and Harry silently agreed.
Hagrid was in a good mood after the first three, and bought Harry a Firewhiskey as well,before stumbling off to the bathroom. Harry sniffed cautiously at the strong-scented drink,and took a mouthful, when an oh,so familiar drawl snuck up behind him. "Bit too young for that,aren't you,saint Potter?" Harry choked,and spat the contents all over the table,he felt the burn in his throat and was almost glad he hadn't had the chance to drink it. "Malfoy..!"
Draco stood behind him,looking down on him, the sneer in place,arms crossed.He looked amazing. Harry didn't think of a single thing smart thing to say, not that he would've looked very clever anyway, Firewhiskey all down his long-sleeved t-shirt and chin. "Ehh..had a nice summer?" Harry regretted it as soon as it left his lips. Idiot! Malfoy looked at him like he'd lost his mind. "Yes,Potter, why don't we share a drink and I'll tell you all about it." He rolled his eyes. "Honestly!" Harry blushed,and looked down, feeling totally at a loss for words. "If you must know", Draco eyed him suspiciously, "my idea of a nice summer doesn't involve Ministry officials raiding our home twice a week,nor does it include me being kicked out of my own home three days early, just so mother can go away on holiday!" He pouted,and added something that sounded like "I am of age, what does she think I need, a nanny?!" under his breath.

Harry, heart pounding, still couldn't believe his luck.He wasn't sure whether or not it was bad luck.It was him,but Harry had made a fool out of himself. He tried to wipe the Firewhiskey off his face, and used his sleeves to do so.Harry didn't notice the sleeve rolling up,as he wiped. Draco, standing behind him, caught a glimpse of Harrys scarred underarm, and the letter "M" in red,swollen skin. His eyes narrowed,and his arm shot out, grabbing Harrys right wrist, holding his arm steady, and pulled the sleeve down to the elbow. "What is this,Potter ?!" Malfoy pressed his fingers into Harrys skin, the "M" far from healed, turned redder as he pressed. Harry didn't speak, he couldn't. Overwhelmed by shame and anguish, he just pulled his arm out of Malfoys grip,and pulled down the sleeve. "It's nothing." he muttered. "Nothing!?" Malfoy hissed gleefully, and grabbed Harrys shoulder. "Get up, we're going to my room." Harry was steered through the room to the stairs,heart pounding,and not an ounce of resistance in him left. He shouted to Tom, the bartender to tell Hagrid he'd gone to bed. Tom nodded.

I want to love you but I better not touch

Harry was pushed inside a room next door to his own, not really able to stop. He got thrown down on the bed,and the door slammed behind them. "Show me your arms." It never occured to Harry not to oblige. He'd spent the summer dreaming of Draco telling him to do things,all sorts of things,and his voice was the voice of someone used to be obliged.It sounded like his daydreams.Almost. He pulled up both his sleeves, almost shyly.
Harry looked down as Draco knelt in front him, forcing him to turn his arms, showing the scarring better. The Slytherin looked from one arm to the other, almost hypnotized. He had a half-grin, wonderingly, on his face. The steely silver in his eyes glittered as he touched the letters slightly. "M.. and D.." He tilted his head. "Who is that? M. D. ?" He stared into Harrys emerald eyes, clearly fascinated.The combination of the look and touch made Harry shiver. He so wanted to say "You're reading it backwards.." but he couldn't. If he said that, the touch would end. The soft,tantalizing touch, that almost drove Harry mad.

it's needles and pins

"I didn't think you had it in you,Potter." Draco's voice sounded almost like it acknowledged him. "First Firewhiskey,and now this?You're practically a Slytherin." Harry sat on the end of Dracos bed, still shaking. Draco was lying down behind his back, supporting his chin in his hand, a cruel little smile playing over his lips. Harry didn't dare to look at him,but mumbled, "I almost was." Draco looked awestruck. "What?" Harry nodded,still not believing this.He was sitting on Draco Malfoys bed, Draco had touched him,looked into his eyes,and given him an almost-compliment.
"The Sorting Hat considered putting me in Slytherin,but I told it no, since I had just learned about my parents real death, and when they said that he was in Slytherin..well, I didn't want to." As Harry let the words fall out of him,Draco looked stricken for a moment,maybe from the flow of words,maybe from the fact that Harry didn't always know about what happened to his parents,then he laughed. "Are you telling me, that Hero Potter, bloody Saint Potter himself, has a Slytherin streak?Oh my!" He made a mocking tutting sound. "Yes,but ..no one knows, so please don't spread it around." Harry said it knowing it probably make no difference,everyone would know eventually. Narrow eyes considered this. "Why not?" Harry turned to look at him, cheeks flushed. He felt extremely tired. "Just,don't. Please." Sad emerald eyes begging twinkling silver. "Why did you tell me then,if no one knows?" Harry shrugged, and stood up to leave.
His sleeves were still rolled up, and he looked at himself in the huge mirror hanging on the wall facing him. Malfoy sat up on his knees in the bed, looking over Harrys shoulder. His eyes narrowed,and he grabbed Harrys arms to show them better in the mirror. Harry looked down,knowing what would come,and tried to enjoy the feeling of Draco holding his arms,allthough the grip was so firm it hurt. The letters were obvious now, even though reflected wrongly. "It's not M. D. ...It's D. M.!" He looked into the mirror at Harry, and found the answer in his red cheeks, his anguished face, and the tears of shame appearing in Harrys eyes.

One look could kill
My pain your thrill

Harry slowly looked up at Draco,who still hadn't let go of Harrys arms. Draco looked utterly shocked."It's me?You cut yourself...over me?" He didn't even sound triumphant. The shook must have horrible,Harry thought. He couldn't deny him the answer. "Y-yes." A soft whisper was the only sound he dared make.He didn't want Draco to move.He felt his chest heaving, heart beating hard and fast.Draco,still holding him, asked narrow-eyed,eyes filled to the brim with suspicion; "Why?" Harry gathered strength to answer, knowing that the answer would lay him naked and vulnerable, depending only on the reaction of his enemy. "Because..I've..." He swallowed heavily. "I've fallen in love with you."
The look on Dracos face was unreadable, except for the understandable shock. He let go of Harry, and Harry couldn't help but feeling he was dropped from the fire into a pool of icy water.

They stood there, statues in the dimming light of the fireplace, for what seemed like an eternity,untill Dracos voice cut through the silence like ice. "Leave." Harry nodded, pulled down his sleeves, and went for the door.As he opened it, Draco spoke; "And don't ever do that again."