Unexpected Song, Chapter 1: To Fall In Love

Disclaimer: I don't own anything but my plot. All characters/places belong to J.K. Rowling and song lyrics are not mine, unless specified.

Author's Note: Hey everybody. I know I'm a bad author for starting another piece before finishing 'Almost,' But I knew if I didn't I'd forget about it. This story is quite different from Amlost; not funny and has much more angst. I sing opera/I'm classically trained, so I thought it might be fun to write a piece involving music. The scene change lines are quotes about music. Have fun, and REVIEW EVERYONE!!!

TruestBlue

"IShouldHaveMyEars

Harry had heard about love at first sight. Strewn across muggle fairy tales and bedtime stories, it always happened in the same whimsical way.

He'd never really thought about it before. Until now, that is. If someone had asked him before he would've told them it was a myth, or laughed it off, perhaps.

But this was no laughing matter, not now. Harry had just found his love at first sight: It had just taken him six years to see it. Six years wasted on arguing. Six years wasted on a different kind of passion.

Six years.

Blonde hair fell over calculating grey eyes as Draco Malfoy strummed on his old, acoustic guitar. Harry felt bad about eavesdropping, but, he couldn't pull himself away. A broken plastic pick in Draco's hands, he played. Harry could see every flexing tendon in the graceful fingers moving over the strings. So lightly.

A voice filled the room. Achingly sweet, intense. Pain dripped off of every wordless note. The minoristic melody complimented the thrillingly dark tone of the vocalist. Even staring right at him, it was hard for Harry to believe this all came from Draco.

Long after Draco played the final chords, the tune still waltzed through Harry's head.

"I'm leaving, Potter. And you should too. You'll catch cold down here, after curfew." Draco's baritone cut through viscous air. Never had his surname sounded so beautiful. Draco was smirking over at Harry's invisibility –cloaked form, not putting half as much of the usual malice into it.

"Do you come down here in the mornings?" His own voice sounded so squeaky and rough after Draco had spoken.

Draco's back was to Harry, but he could make out a distinct nodd. No witty comebacks or explanations were necessary. Listening to Draco's steps, walking away from him, was the worst sound in the world, Harry decided.

Harry sank down to the cool ground. From his pocket he extracted a ratty notebook and pen. Ripping a piece of muggle paper, his decorated the page with his loopy script, trying to remember the haunting song Draco had just sung.

Harry struggled to stand: his muscles were cold and aching. Looking down at his paper, he hoped it wouldn't fly away by morning. By the time Draco would come again.

Harry sighed and turned away from the scene to climb the slick stairs to Gryffendor Tower. He tried to remember why he'd come in the first place. It certainly hadn't been to fall in love.

FilledWithTheWorld'sMusic

Mornings always made Draco hapyy. To wake up at five, tune his guitar, warm up his voice: It was mornings that made his whole life worth living.

In the corner of an abandoned room in the Slytherin Dungeons he'd created a sort of studio. Picks were sprinkled on the floor, extra strings and pegs in the corner. Some sheet music under the fourth brick to the right when you came in the door. It was truly his home; more than any other place.

On this particular morning, Draco was happier than usual. He'd wondered when GoldenBoy would let his curiosity get the better of him. He'd written that song just for Harry, almost a year ago today. And he'd finally heard it.

He nearly tripped over the small piece of muggle paper, and he snatched it up in irritation. He almost disregarded it until he noticed the elegant script looping around the page.

I'd like to run/ away from you
But if I were/ to leave you/, I would die
I'd like to break/ the chains you/ put around me
And yet/ I'll never try

No matter what/ you do you/ drive me crazy
I'd rather/ be alone
But then/ I know my life/ would be so empty
As soon/ as you were gone

Impossible/ to live with you
But I could never/ live without you
For whatever you do / For whatever you do
I never, never, never
Want to be in love/ with anyone but you

You make me sad
You make me strong
You make me mad
You make me long for you / You make me long for you

You make me live
You make me die
You make me laugh
You make me cry for you / You make me cry for you

I hate you
Then I love you
Then I love you
Then I hate you
Then I love you more
For whatever you do
I never, never, never
Want to be in love with anyone but you

You treat me wrong
You treat me right
You let me be
You make me fight with you / I could never live without you

You make me high
You bring me down
You set me free
You hold me bound to you

I hate you
Then I love you
Then I love you
Then I hate you
Then I love you more / I love you more
For whatever you do / For whatever you do
I never, never, never
Want to be in love with anyone but you

I never, never, never
I never, never, never
I never, never, never
Want to be in love/ with anyone but you
But you

Thought it might work with your song,

Harry

Draco released the breath he'd been holding as he grasped the paper tight in his fist. He'd suspected that Harry might finally accept him, after some time, but he hadn't expected anything so… quick. Or amazing. Or beautiful.

It was Harry Potter we were talking about: what did he expect? The words so perfectly described how he felt. He hoped it was how Harry felt to.

He dropped to the floor right there with the lyrics he knew he would keep forever. He took out his guitar and sang. This time, it was for real. He would never think of this song as 'Harry's' anymore. It was theirs to share. Their song.

LetMeHearAllSounds

It seemed an average day for Harry. Being dragged around by Ron and Hermione, tutoring a first year in DADA, and pretending to eat his meals.

He was beginning to think the dreamt the whole thing: The song, Draco, his lyrics, everything. That's when he heard it. Passing by the empty classroom the 7th years had dubbed, 'The Makeout Room 101' A few little rifts, and then his lyrics.

"I'd like to run/ away from you /But if I were/ to leave you/, I would die /I'd like to/break/ the chains you/ put around me /And yet/ I'll never try…"

Harry closed the door to the classroom and stood in front of the smiling blonde. He was smiling, and I mean really smiling. No smirk, no sarcasm, and no violence. Just a sweet smile.

"Your lyrics fit, Potter. They're perfect, actually. For me."

"For us," Harry finished, staring at Draco's lips. He hadn't realized how close they'd gotten, how Draco's hands were hesitantly around his neck, how those eyes were staring with guarded caution into his. His adam's apple bobbed as

"So you're okay then. With this. With all of this?" Draco's words settled like a weight in Harry's stomach. He gasped with realization and jerked away from the startled blonde.

"No," Harry whispered, eyes wide. "Draco… Malfoy… whatever, just keep away from me."

Draco's face grew even more angular and his eyes hardened. "Don't toy with me, Harry. What do you want? What can I do?"

Harry laughed, but the sound was sharp, even to his ears. "It's not you it's me," He told Draco, sarcasm in every inflection, unable to look him in the eye. "I'm an idiot for starting this. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

With that, Harry turned away and yanked open the door, just to prove to himself he was making the right decision.

"Harry," Draco said. It was a statement, a question, and a plea all in one. Harry paused at the door, powerless against Draco's smooth voice.

"Draco," He finally managed. It was an order, an ending. With that he stepped into the bustling hall, leaving his heart and taking Draco's.

OfLifeAndLiving"

Draco moved to sit on the floor, his guitar sliding along the tile. A string snapped, and he laughed about the angst-filled poetry he could write with that metaphor. Slowly, laughter changed to tears. Sobs racked his body harder that they ever had before. Harder that when his father had died at Harry's hands, harder than when the Dark Lord had given him his Dark mark, and harder than they had when Dumbledore had removed it for him and brought him to the light. Harder than they ever would again, because if you asked Draco Malfoy, he would've told you the most awful sound in the world was Harry Potter's footsteps getting further and further away.

Head in his hands, he tried to remember why he'd come back to Hogwarts after the war anyway. It certainly hadn't been to fall in love.

Maya Angelo

Author's Note:

What do y'all think? Should I leave it as a depressing oneshot or keep going for a happy ending. REVIEW and tell me. The lyrics for this chapter were a warped version of a Celine Dion song.. Don't forget to check out 'Almost'

TruestBlue