Libraries Raised Me
Be More Specific Neville
Specific Prompt: No, I cannot help you find your textbook if you don't know what it's called. "It has a blue cover" doesn't help.
Summary: Modern, Non-magic AU, series of prompts based on Hermione working as a librarian during college. Request a prompt or ship if you like!
Rating: T
Warnings: language
*Title comes from a Ray Bradbury quote
Every since she was a little girl, Hermione had loved libraries. There was a beautiful sense of peace that washed over her whenever she stepped inside one. Nothing felt better than gingerly running your fingers down the spine on a good book, of flipping through its pages and letting the story consume you. Libraries made her calm - but Neville had really pushed her limits today, and she could still feel the anger sizzling in her veins.
It had started when Neville visited her at the reference counter at the University of Hogwarts Library. They both lived in the Gryffindor dormitory, and she often saw him digging through the lost and found, trying to find whatever he had misplaced at the time.
"Hey Hermione," Neville greeted her with a wave of his dirty hands. Based on his garb, he must have just been at the greenhouse, because his jeans were brown at the knee and he still had something smeared across his forehead.
"Hello Neville, how can I help you?"
"I'm looking for a book," Neville smiled without adding much else.
"Okay, what book?" His eyes widened and his hands began to tremble with energy.
He stumbled over his words like they were large ears on a puppy, "Oh, it's a book for class called... called..." He paused to furrow his brow in confusion. "I wrote it down somewhere."
Behind the desk, Hermione flexed her fingers she like always did before playing the piano. She was anxious to find the book and call a janitor to sweep up the mud Neville had tracked in from his Timberlands.
She asked, "Did you write it on a piece of paper?" Neville shook his head 'no'.
"I tend to lose scraps of paper, so I wrote it down on myself." Hermione squinted at him and wrinkled her nose.
"Is that what's on your forehead? Besides the dirt, of course." In awe, Neville patted at his hair, streaking more dirt and sharpie across both his hand and forehead.
"Oh no. No, no, no, no," he groaned, staring down at the back of his head as if it were to blame. "I wrote it there, and I guess when I was gardening I went to wipe my sweat and . . ." Neville hung his head in shame.
"Well, that's alright. Do you remember the name of the book?"
Neville shook his head, "Nope."
"Do you know the author?"
Again, Neville shook his head with a shrug, "Nope."
Hermione pursed her lips in thought before asking, "How about the class? What do you need it for?"
He scratched his head, pondering the question. "I need it for...uh...hmm. I don't remember," he confessed, growing red at the sight of Hermione's frustrated face. After a moment of uneasy silence, his expression changed into one of merriment. "Oh, I remember something!" Neville chirped. Hermione raised an eyebrow in response. "It has a blue cover!"
She let out a loud huff and forcefully rubbed her temples, willing herself not to explode. "Be more specific Neville," she said through grated teeth. "What kind of blue?" She could look up books based on color, though it would be far more difficult, since it was still a beta-program that Colin Creevey had started.
"Blue like coffee," Neville smiled with a nod.
"Coffee is brown, Neville," she argued in shrilly, pronouncing each syllable in clipped tones. The boy notably stiffened at this. "How do you not know that? Everyone knows-!" And then it dawned on her. "Oh Neville, you're colorblind." She sighed at this and forced her hands to lay flat on the desk.
"I have a better idea. You can find your required textbook list online at one of the computers," Hermione stated, gesturing to the row of desktop computers across the way. Everyone knew their login and password; it had been drilled into them their first semester there. While some students changed the configuration, most people kept it the original setting, with their username being their first initial, last name, and their password being their room number. Hermione was sure that Neville could manage that one very simple task.
"I don't know my login information," Neville hiccupped, cringing as Hermione moved from behind the desk and launched towards the computer.
"How do you not know your login?" she snapped as she pulled a chair back and pointed for him to sit.
He more fell than sat down in the chair, his face blue in the computer light. "I just . . . I'm not good with this kind of stuff," he murmured into the palm he had pressed up against his face.
Hermione softened a little at this, but not enough so to apologize. Speaking in a gentler tone than before, she said. "Your username is first initial, last name." Neville chicken-pecked the keyboard, slowly poking one key at a time with only his right index finger. Patience was not a virtue Hermione possessed, and she drummed the back of his chair with her fingertips.
When he finished, she explained the next part. "Your password is your room number." Hermione saw his finger hesitate over the keys as panic hit Neville. "You live in 730," she reminded him. He nodded his head in appreciation and typed the number in. "Can you take it from here?" She asked, and he nodded his head furiously. "Okay, I'll be at the desk if you need me."
Back at her desk, she took a deep breath and made a mental list of all the books she read this summer - listing was one of the few things besides libraries and the forest that calmed her down. She was checking back in the books from the return box when Neville shuffled over to her, trembling paper in hand. "I found the book title, but the library database says it isn't available?" He hand her the paper, hands still shaking out of fear of his classmate.
Hermione took the sliver of paper from him typed the title into the database. Within seconds, the book title and information flashed on the screen, including that the book was unavailable. She clicked on the link to see who had checked out the last copy, and the answer she found made her want to scream.
"It isn't available," Hermione seethed as her hands curled into fists, "because you already checked it out Neville."
"I did? When?" He asked, baffled.
"You checked it out in December." Neville cowered back at Hermione's reaction when he realized what he had done.
"Oh, that's right! I checked it out early once I signed up for the geology class." Hermione's eyes narrowed down at him and her gaze was cold enough to kill. Neville spoke quickly as he backed away, "Uh, thanks a lot Hermione, I owe you!" Once said, he turned around and ran out the door.
"You bet your ass you owe me," Hermione murmured angrily under her breath as her fingers played some unknown melody on the desk.