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It is a little known fact that all true and great libraries are connected to each other. Most well cared for university libraries, while not as ancient or prominent as some of the others, usually have one isle or two which leads to an unexpected location.
Wizards of the Ankmorpork Unseen University have attempted to study their Library's curious ability to warp not only space but time, but the only reliable witness to these events is the Librarian. He will not tell his secrets, not matter how many bananas you give him. Ook.
So while all libraries will inevitably lead to Disc World, some may lead to other realms.
Like, for example, the Hogwart's library and the great library of Asguard.
It might have been the buildup of magic or dark antimatter energy in the air which led to this unlikely joining of libraries, but that i neither here nor there in any dimension you perceive.
All I know is what happened, and all the oddness which occurred because of it.
====hahaveryfunny====
Hermonie Granger stalked into the Hogwart's Library after being on the school's premisis for over twenty hours. That was the longest it had ever taken her to find a library in her life.
The dissapointment in herself was palpable.
Having already wasted ten hours sleeping, three at the opening feast, two to prepare for the day, and five trying to find the library in a castle with no map, Hermonie wasted no time in finding Madam Pince's desk.
After an enlightening conversation, wher she learned that wizards did not employ the Dewy Decimal system when organizing books, she decided to walk down the isles herself and map the enirety of the place in her head.
For any normal human, such a feat would be foolhardy, but this was Hermonie Granger. And after an adventure with an orangutan in the reference section of the Oxford library as a child, a library had yet to best her.
The stacks were ordered sometimes by subject, sometimes alphabetically (although the spelling waivered between midevial, Greek, and Latin), and sometimes al though a half drunken pixie had tossed the catagories into place willy nilly.
It was not, in fact, a pixie. It was the great Fairy Infestation of Willy the Nilly, a seventh year who succumed to the stress of NEWT exams. In a moment of insanity he counjered up a flock of fairies during his charms practical while singing "I'm a Pretty Fairy!" at the top of his lungs and dancing on the tables
He got top marks in Charms.
Any way, after much searching, Hermonie found a door.
This was not odd in itself; she actually wondered why she had not run into a door sooner (didn't wizards have study rooms and places to read in their libraries like normal libraries?). What was odd was that the door hung on the side of a bookshelf.
Hermonie blinked at the bronze plaque: Time Turners and Tap Dancers.
Because of course that made sense.
Gingerly she tried the latch, and tried not to be surprised at the sight of a cozy sitting room, which by all laws of physics should not have had space to exist. Ah, the mind twistie-ness of magic.
Marking the spot in her memory, the witch continued her exploration of dusty tombs, and thought of it no more.
It was not until two weeks later when her favorite table was crowded with ill-tempered Ravenclaws, that she recalled the room at all.
Stepping lightly arms full of books, she scuttled to the small door and shouldered her way inside. With a great grunt she settled her burden on one of the couches and cracked her shoulder with a groan.
A pair of green eyes watched her with half lidded interest.
Hermonie looked up and shrank into herself. A dark haired man in green, most likely a Slytherin seventh year, watched her idly from behind a book of ruins.
"Uh," she had heard that Slytherins were an unpleasant lot (and experienced some of that for herself), but surely anyone studious enough to be in the library on the weekend would not shove another studious individual out in the cold?
"Uh," she tried again, "Uh, is it ok if I sit here?"
A smile curled at the corner of his mouth. "As I don't think you could carry that stack of manuscripts back to wherever you came from, it would be uncoth for me to say anything but yes."
Hermonie blinked. With that king of flowery language, he surely must be a pureblood. She grinned and sank into the leather couch. "Thank you."
Events progressed in such a manner, that Hermonie eventually passed by the other tables entirely in favor of the tiny room.
The man, she never had the courage to say more that a soft greeting and farewell in his presence, kept odd hours.
Ever present in the evening, long after Hermonie had gone to bed, and early morning before breakfast, but never in the room during free periods between classes.
Hermonie reasoned that he had a special pass from a teacher to stay in the library later, and had classes at all hours of the day.
Sometimes she would imagine asking him a question about the books he was reading (all written in ruins she noticed) but never had the courage.
She did not want to ruin the quiet comraderie they had with house rivalries.
But maybe he didn't mind that she was Griffindor and he a Slytherin. A possibility, maybe? What if she met him in the halls by accident and waved? Would he get angry at her?
"What?" Oh no, he finally said something to her and she wasn't paying attention when he did!
"I asked what it is that you are reading."
She turned the title over in her hands. "It's about the differences bewteen the properties of plants which grow in moonlight as opposed to sunlight and their uses in memory potions and healing balms. I'm reading it for an essay I have in Potions because Professor Snape is such a difficult grader and you have to be very thorough in your data collection and references or he marks points of and..."
She faded into embarrassed silence at the laughing smirk on his face.
"Oh please continue, this is very interesting."
She frowned. "Well what are you reading?"
He shrugged. "A treaty between the High Court of the Elves and the Allfather."
Hermonie mentally scanned the encyclopedic ordering of her memory and came up blank. "What does it say?"
He sighed. "Trading agreements, merchant fees, that sort of thing. Nothing of importance.
In a moment which would change the multiverse, Hermonie's feet took her, not to the girl's bathroom, but to the library.
'Thank goodness I brought my hankerchief,' she would reflect later, 'Otherwise I would have gone to the bathroom to find something to wipe my face with.'
The library did not lock its doors till lights out, so Hermonie easily slipped inside to her secret room.
He wasn't there of course, not that she expected him to be (not at all).
Curling up into her usual seat, the girl daubed at her eyes with her hankerchief, and tried to calm her hyperventilated hiccups.
"I d-do h-have friends," she sobbed. "I j-just wish I knew w-where he w-was. Or w-what his name is. Or - oh d-dear."
Unnoticed by the young witch, the room's surrounding's shifted, like a cat stretching out its tail.
Hours later, when the girl's eyes had run dry, she gathered up her schoolbag, and opened the door.
She did not step out into the Hogwart's library.
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