I do not own Harry Potter, I write for my own enjoyment and that of my readers.
The castle was quiet and peaceful as Terry strolled through the corridors of Hogwarts. He was assigned to patrol the seventh floor, near the Room of Requirement. Moonlight passed through window panes in bright beams, causing everything to have a pale blue-gray cast.
Terry was slowly wandering as he looked for students out of bed after curfew. He had just rounded the corner when he heard the first haunting strains of the song. It was played beautifully, but the song was completely unfamiliar to him.
He crept forward silently, a whispered spell insuring that his steps were muffled. The closer he got to the Room of Requirement the louder the music became. Someone was definitely in there playing the piano. It was such a sad song though. It tugged at Terry's heart and he had the sudden urge to barge in there and comfort the person who was playing this sad, beautiful piece.
Terry had finally made it to the door and was surprised to find that it was open just the slightest bit. He gently nudged the door open, letting out a soft breath when the hinges didn't squeak. His eyes widened at the room that the player had created. It was a rounded ballroom with a gleaming dark hardwood floor. The walls rose high into the air and the ceiling was even higher. Floor to ceiling windows were spaced evenly along the walls letting in an abundance of pure moonlight. Above the sole occupant was an opulent chandelier, it's candles unlit.
The piano itself was beautiful with its gleaming polished black surface. And the person sitting at it was just as awe-inspiring. The man was bent over the keys with his hair hiding his face, but even without the benefit of seeing his features, Terry could tell that he loved playing. His entire body screamed this, even as he was barefoot and in dark blue pajamas.
He leaned in further to listen better, but his weight on the door caused it to swing open the rest of the way and knock into the wall. The playing stopped abruptly.
"Who's there?" asked a wary voice, sounding so small in the vast space of the ballroom. Terry backed away quickly from the door and slipped into an alcove just as the boy closed the door. Shortly afterwards he heard the quick steps rushing away from the Room of Requirement.
Terry came back night after night, every chance he could, trying to catch the mysterious piano player at work. It wasn't until three weeks later that he finally did. As soon as he was on the seventh floor he made his way towards the Room of Requirement, his pace quickening when he heard the strains of music. This piece was not as sad as the one from before.
Yet again the door had drifted open slightly, just enough that it could be nudged open without alerting the person inside playing. The ballroom was the same as before, the windows letting in copious amounts of moonlight and shining on the piano. Terry slid down the wall and sat there quietly listening to the playing. It was so beautiful.
Too quickly for his liking the playing wound down. He slowly made his way to his feet, preparing to scurry off so that he wouldn't get caught. But before he could leave he was overcome with the urge to see the face of the person playing. He moved back to the door and peered around it.
He was shocked at what he saw. Neville Longbottom was gently brushing his hand along the gleaming polish of the piano as he made his way to the door. Terry quickly moved away and ducked into the same alcove as before, waiting until the footsteps had faded before leaving.
It was hard to believe that Neville was the one playing so beautifully. Everyone had assumed that he was strictly a Herboloy person. It was, by far, his best known characteristic. Piano playing hadn't even made it to the list of possibilities. It was then that Terry decided to observe him. He had to know more about someone who had captured his attention so fully without even trying.
Terry observed Neville for the next week with a fascination bordering on obsession. He now knew what his favorite ice cream was, how he preferred his tea, and his coffee on the rare days he drank it. He knew his class schedule by heart. He knew what books he read and what games he enjoyed. Terry could never remember knowing anyone besides his best friends this well before.
Thing was, Terry was very obvious in his observation. Neville had noticed the scrutiny. As a result, He started watching his watcher, without being so obvious. For some unknown reason, the Ravenclaw had developed a strong interest in knowing about him. By the time it was all said and done, Neville many things about Terry. They might not be at all like the things learned about himself, but in his mind they were just as important. For instance when he was thinking about his work and was stumped, his brow furrowed in the most adorable way and his hair ended up mussed as he ran his fingers through it many times as he thought. When the subject of his observation as reading something for the simple pleasure of reading it, then he made faces as he reacted to the words on the page. It was the small things like that Neville noticed.
One thing Neville never concluded during all the observing of his observer, was that just maybe Terry was the one who he had heard that one night he was playing in the Room of Requirement.
Terry made his way, secretly, to the Room of Requirement for what he swore would be the last time. Not because he would never hear Neville play again, but tonight he would be talking to Neville; entering that magical ballroom and somehow convincing him to love him that way he was starting to feel about Neville.
The ballroom looked as it always had but it was darker than before. The moon was waning and very little light filtered into the room. Neville was sitting at the piano playing a slow piece, almost like a lullaby. Terry stood the door for a few moments before slowly pushing the door open enough for him to enter the room.
As Terry entered the room, the candles in the chandelier flared to life before dimming to an almost imperceptible glow. Neville's head jerked up, but his playing never stopped, it just slowed slightly before it picking back up.
"What are you doing in here?" he whispered quietly, staring down at the keys.
"I came to hear you play, to see you." Terry whispered back just as quietly. Slowly, he slid into the space next him.
"Why would you do that? I'm nothing special," was the near silent response.
"I beg to differ. I've been watching you, you are one of the most special people I know of. And I want to know you better."
The room was quiet, save for the piano, for several moments. Terry was nervous at Neville's silence, but, even if he was rejected, he wanted to listen to the music one last time.
Finally the song was over and Neville still hadn't said a word. Terry figured that this was it, and so he rose from the bench, stepped away from the piano, and began to leave the room.
Behind him he heard movement, and so turned to look over his shoulder. He did not expect to come face to face with the other boy. Nor did he expect to be gripped by the shoulders and forcefully turned so that he was facing Neville.
His face was enclosed in warm hands with thumbs that gently caressed his jaw and fingers that stroked his face. It was a sharp contrast from the abrupt way he had entered this position.
Suddenly Neville's lips were on his. The kiss was long and slow. It was perfect. Eventually the two had to breathe.
They pulled back and smiled hesitantly at each other. Terry leaned in this time, capturing Neville's lips in a tender kiss.
When they broke apart he took Neville's hand and led him back to the piano.
"Play me another song?"
A/N: I wrote this a while back and I thought I'd dust it off and post it.