Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
By Silver Sailor Ganymede
Narcissa had always loved listening to her son play the piano. Lucius had, of course, protested when he found out that she had hired a tutor to teach Draco to play. He had asked her why she'd waste time with a filthy, muggle instrument like a piano. Why not let the boy study the violin? That, at least, had been invented by a wizard.
For once in her life Narcissa didn't listen to her husband's complaints, and so Draco learnt to play the piano regardless. It was the one thing she missed whenever he wasn't home – and indeed was one of the key reasons she was so reluctant for him to go to Drumstrag. The holidays there were so much shorter there that she would almost never have had time to listen to him play.
It took Narcissa a long time to get used to the silence that took over the manor when Draco left for Hogwarts. It was very disconcerting; a house that had been full of life was suddenly a graveyard again. She and Lucius had never learnt to talk to each other except for when in public in order to keep up appearances.
The house came back to life whenever Draco came home for the holidays. It was filled with the sound of his music, something that was much more alive than the marble hallways or Lucius' stony eyes.
When Draco came back for the summer after his fifth year, the first thing he did was to tell his mother to get rid of the piano. He'd have too much to do to be able to play it, he said. That was when Narcissa realised that the war had begun in earnest.