The poem intrigued me but at that moment I paid it no extra mind. At that point in time I'm afraid that I have to admit that I acted like any other new first-year at Hogwarts, reaching out to the handle and opening the door into Alice's Wonderland. (Of course, I wouldn't know of Alice or her Wonderland until much later in life.)

            I must confess that I reacted in a very unMalfoyish manner once I entered the room, my jaw feeling as if it had detached itself in the manner of a nutcracker doll. The room was painted in a soothing light blue paint that matched the sky that was shown from the large bay windows on the side of the tower to his right. I looked up at the ceiling as saw that just as in the Great Hall the ceiling reflective the sky outside of the tower. The floors were made of fine varnished wood and had thick darker blue rugs on them. But none of this was what had completely shocked me. Nor was it the giant four-poster what shocked me or the study table and bookcase filled with many books that was in a separate room through an open doorway.

            The room was filled with paintings. I did not mean three or four large paintings. There were paintings hanging up on the walls, others were resting against the divan in the small living room area; there must have been at least thirty paintings of various sizes in the room. Two paintings, obviously still works in progress, were on two easels facing the windows. All the paintings in the room were different from each other. On some of the canvases there were images of the Hogwarts grounds bathed in moonlight. Others were showing various gardens, people, among other things. There was only one thing that I could tell that all the paintings had in common; they all had a single black and silver phoenix located somewhere within the artwork. Sometimes the phoenix would be the focus of the art and other times it would be integrated into the background but more often that not it was placed in a corner as a sort of signature mark.

However, although the paintings, art supplies, and sketch pads were everywhere there was only one more thing in the room that absolutely demanded my attention. In a rather large alcove away from the main center of the room were two ceiling high windows with a mirror in between them that went around in the shape of a semi-circle was a mahogany Steinway grand piano with sunlight reflecting off the wood and a metronome next to it on a matching mahogany table.

Although almost no one knew it, I had taken piano lessons from the age of eight because of my parents' belief that it showed others that I was of a higher class. But after the death of both my parents during the war that followed my fourth year and escalated after my fifth, I had had to stop taking lessons as my instructor was placed in Azkaban for also being a Death Eater. I missed playing during school but I had believed that there was no piano at Hogwarts.

As quickly as possible I went over to the piano and looked at the books placed in a small beside it; they were all self-instruction books on the piano. Located on the stand was a piece of music, Claude Debussy's Clair de Lune. I was shocked. Maybe you have never played the piano or have never seen the sheet music for that piece but by all standards that is a far advanced piece of music that someone who was still reading books on how to teach himself (I was sure that it was a he) to play the piano. I noticed that the music had little notes written on the first two pages of the songs: telling things such as tempo markings and fingerings.

It appeared to me that this person was very dedicated to his work to be able to play through a piece of this level. But then again I always believed that it was your dedication that made you meet your goals not just your talent… And H—this person didn't lack talent or dedication at all as I was going to realize later.

*

Now let's skip over a couple months as nothing really extremely important happened at all during these weeks but I guess that I should just give you a basic overview of the happenings at Hogwarts.

It was during these months following that I began working earnestly for my potions mastery apprenticeship. In order to be accepted to become an apprenticeship to become a potions master I had to spend practically all of my hard-earned free time studying about things such as the Draught of the Living Death and Veritaserum. I was very lucky to have Severus at Hogwarts. Now, don't laugh! Having a potions master on the grounds of the school helped immensely because I could just go to him for assistance. If I trained hard enough I would be able to be apprenticed by him at Hogwarts after graduation. (Which I am proud to say did happen.)

Every morning at six in the morning (I am not a 'morning person' exactly; I just get up early during the school year and late on holidays.) I would go to the tower and look at the paintings and see the progress of the work. My favorite painting of them all was slightly disturbing in a way. At least I know that it would be to some people.

There was a beautiful white rose painted on the center of the large canvas and it was surrounded by such pigments of colors that it looked as if it was painted in the midst of beautiful stained glass. That seems to be just a beautiful innocent scene, doesn't it? But then add the fact that the painting has black smears of paint going across diagonally from the top left corner of the painting to the bottom right corner. If you look closely enough you can see that the black smears actually form a bird with outspread wings. Since it is missing everywhere else in the painting, I assumed at the time (correctly, of course, as Malfoys are never incorrect) that the bird was in fact a black phoenix.

Does seem symbolic, doesn't it? The innocent person represented by the white rose becomes tainted by the dark realities of life and changes into the black phoenix—an essentially good creature but with a jaded view of life.

In November, I also lost yet another game of quidditch to Harry Potter and the Gryffindors however I could clearly see that Potter himself was not into the game as enthusiastically as before when we were younger. Maybe it had to deal with the fact that he had become a killer by the age of sixteen. Even though Voldemort did deserve it.

Nothing else of great importance occurred unless you consider the fact that Neville Longbottom did make a perfect potion in Severus's class—while Hermione Granger was on the opposite side of the room—an occurrence of great importance. Of course, it was after that potions lesson that I heard Sev (I am allowed to call him that because he is my godfather after all.) proclaim that there is a God and angels and that they hadn't forsaken him.

It was three weeks before Christmas and I was staying at Hogwarts for the break. I didn't wish to go home to an empty Malfoy Manor (beautiful and elegant as it may be) and since Severus was also staying at Hogwarts I decided to also. As I was saying, it was three weeks until Christmas when I first heard music actually being performed from inside the room.

I had been going to the Great Hall from my study time in one of the other school towers. Again for some reason unknown to me I found myself on the wrong staircase leading to the tower. It was then that I heard the music being played. The sound shocked me. I was expecting something soothing and quiet such as Clair de Lune or the Moonlight Sonata (am I the only one who noticed they are both about moonlight?) by Beethoven that I had seen at the piano for the past two months. Or the God Rest Ye Gentlemen and O Holy Night in the Christmas book I had seen. Instead I heard Rhapsodie (Yes, it is spelled with an ie and not a y) by Maxwell Eckstein.

That piece is not the most famous and well-known of among all the different songs of Mozart, Beethoven, Debussy, Clementi, and others. It is a relatively easy song to play. However in the beginning it starts off very loud with a forte marking (which means to play loud, all you non-musicians). The louder and more emotionally you play Rhapsodie in the beginning the angrier it seems before it finally calms down. You wouldn't expect this song to be played during Christmas time. At least, I didn't.

I went to grab the door handles before I even realized my actions. As soon as I touched the gold handle another poem appeared on the door. The strange thing was that it was actually different this time than from all the others.

We warned of the coming price in your entering through our doors