Harry let his head fall forward against his arms where they lay crossed on the bench. He was sitting in the sunny courtyard waiting for Hermione and Ron to return from their weekend 'date' at Hogsmeade. He basked in the warmth.

It was so peaceful and for that moment he had no care in the world. Everything faded away into the background. All his past and pain was just fantasy and only the hot sun was real. Harry Potter smiled.

A tingling started at the back of his neck like an insistent itch and Harry rolled his shoulders. He heard something. Soft, subtle and muted.

Green eyes flashed open and Harry stood to his feet, the sun forgotten. He heard music and it was intoxicating. A rich nectar that fed his heart and filled his soul to overflowing. Harry wanted to eat it, he felt his muscles relaxing even as he was drawn out of the court yard and towards the sound of music.

He walked down a short, grassy hill and towards an outer tower that was mostly abandoned. Up several flights of stairs and he was completely lost in the sound. It was like finding a long lost love. He embraced it with his heart, held it tight and close.

A closed door. Harry found himself standing in front of it, hand curled around the tarnished knob. Inside, someone was playing the piano. Not just playing, but singing with the instrument. Harry gulped in a breath and turned the knob.

He walked inside and let his eyes adjust to the low light. A single flamed candle cast shadows across the wooden walls and created an eerie atmosphere. A complete contradiction to the bright and cheerful playing.

Harry took one step and then another into the room. A board squeaked under his weight and the playing stopped abruptly. The figure at the piano looked at him over a black robed shoulder. Severus Snape.

Harry wanted to say something, defend his presence or make an excuse. Anything. Nothing would come out of his mouth except a pitiful keen that surprised both the man and the boy.

It felt like the sun had stopped shining and he would never be warm again. Harry wrapped his arms around himself and whimpered. The loss was too great, too much to bear. He wanted to shrivel up and die.

"Mister Potter?" Severus demanded with a glare. "What are you doing here?"

Harry shook his head, unable to express what the music had made him feel. Blinking away a sudden urge to cry, Harry turned and bolted out of the room. Severus Snape watched him go in angry bewilderment. The man shook his head and turned back to the piano. He stroked the keys, but did not apply pressure to them. He had played enough for one day, there were responsibilities to see to.