"You know, I've failed to mention something." Draco tugged on Hermione's curls as she bent over her notes at the dining room table. "Malfoy Manor has an extensive library."
Her head popped up at the sound of the magic word, but teeth worried her bottom lip as the excitement faded. "Do you think your mother would let me borrow some books?"
"As Father has deserted us, the heir apparent has been declared the Head." He grinned and rested his hip on the mahogany. "I'm the one you should butter up."
She squinted. "Is that an off-colour remark?"
"Merlin, no!" He gagged. "I can think of much more delish condiments than butter for that." He winked at her. "Anytime you want to do some taste tests…"
"Well," she leaned back, ignoring both his attempt at flirtation and the warm feeling in her chest, "do you have a way to check the catalogue from here? If I accept Firenze's message, I've got to work fast, and my last visit to your family home didn't exactly give me a reason to return."
Closing his eyes, he bit back a profanity. "I didn't think about that. Look, Hermione, Mother had curse breakers and interior decorators there for over six months. Nothing remains of any room where dark magic was practiced."
Once more her teeth tried to break the skin of her bottom lip. "I'll think on it, even though I may not have a choice."
"In that case, I'll see about clearing you for entry. All visitors are strictly examined and names must be pre-approved by the DMLE. What's wrong?" he added, seeing her frown.
"Just your mention of the DMLE. I suppose I ought to make nice with Harry. He did back off on pressuring me to pretend to make up with Ron."
"Only because Brown managed to slide into the vacuum." Draco snorted, "She didn't waste much time doing so, did she? Especially considering that Witch Weekly featured her flaunting a gaudy sparkler not long after Valentine's Day."
"Lavender has always enjoyed the spotlight, much like Ron. I don't know why he broke up with her and started dating me."
"Because," Draco tapped her on the nose, "in his one moment of intelligence for the decade, he recognized quality and grabbed hold. Of course, he didn't know what to do with it once he had it."
"I suppose you'd be able to do better?" she teased with a grin.
"Abso-fucking-lutely," he assured her with a serious expression. "Any time you'd like to make your own assessment, let me know."
She twisted in the chair and watched him stroll nonchalantly out of the room. "Why does he always have to have the last word?"
"Sorry I'm late." Harry slid into the booth opposite Hermione. "I had a bit of a bother getting away."
"Why?" she asked. "It's the weekend and you said you were off-duty."
"Well, uh, Ginny had made plans for us to go to the Burrow today, even though I said I was having lunch with you."
"Really?" Hermione's finger drew a line in the condensation on the outside of her water glass.
"Yeah, she went on and on about how everyone was expecting me, but I don't get it. We're going there tomorrow for Sunday dinner."
"Harry?" her voice was tentative, "has Ginny been signed to another Quidditch team now that the Harpies have dropped out?"
"No such luck. They keep saying that they'll owl her, but she never hears back." The other shoe dropped for him. "No, I'm sure she doesn't still blame you. I mean, I explained that you had the right to change your mind, and frankly, Hermione, I think you made the correct decision. He and Lavender have much more in common, but Merlin! Sometimes I wish they'd get a room."
"Flashbacks to sixth year with 'Won-Won' and 'Lav-Lav'?"
Harry pantomimed sticking a finger down his throat. "Even worse. Kreacher had to replace the upholstery on my living room couch."
Shuddering as her own appetite disappeared, Hermione made noises of sympathy.
"So, you and Malfoy, eh?"
"Jump right into that, why don't you?" she countered. "He offered me refuge after the Ron 'conflagration', and I'm not moving back to my flat until I'm sure the red-headed prat has been defanged."
"Platonic, then?"
"Do you ever take off your Auror badge and try to mind your own business?" she questioned. "I have a separate suite, and we are well-chaperoned by the most unique house elf since Dobby. She is free and definitely not abused," she assured him quickly.
"Well, Malfoys have that history…"
"I know; you're just cautious."
"It's because it's you, Mione." He reached a hand across the table and covered hers.
"Draco offered me access to the Malfoy library," she stated quietly.
"That's great! You and libraries–wait, is the library at the Manor?"
She nodded. "He says that all the evil was exorcised."
"I'm sure he didn't use that terminology."
"No," Hermione grinned, "but I bet he'd know what it means. He has become quite the muggle savant, but Linda Blair's head spinning around might be too close to what he witnessed while living with the Death Eaters."
Harry gave a nod before beetling his eyebrows in thought. "I think Bill was part of the crew that worked on the house. If he was involved, you know they did a good job, so it should be safe for you."
She heaved a sigh. "Thanks for the encouragement. I'll most likely take him up on it, but he is going ahead to try and get permission for me to visit."
"I can check on that and push it through, if you like," he offered.
"Flexing some of your 'Chosen One' muscles?"
"Hey," he spread his arms, "what better cause than to let my best friend discover new books?"
Draco swung the double doors open with a flourish. "Welcome to the Malfoy Library."
"Wow." Her head rotated from side to side. "I feel like Belle in Beauty and the Beast."
He quirked an eyebrow. "Since I am obviously the beauty," her elbow attempted to impact his ribs; only a quick sidestep on his part prevented the collision, "that leaves you as the beast. No, no," he shook his head, "I am afraid that I cannot allow you to take on that mantle."
"Berk," she grumbled with a smile.
"Just a bit of humour before the bad news." Her eyes widened as she spun to face him. "Although your response is very like Belle–"
"You've seen the movie?"
"Give me some credit for doing muggle research, Hermione, even if it was Trix who fell in love with Disney." He shook his head. "Now, some volumes are warded to only respond–shall I say?–kindly to those with Malfoy blood. If any of those are required, I shall be your appointed page turner."
"Where do we start?"
"How about a quick summoning spell? Accio libres felinus humanus!"
No books flew towards them, but several gold threads emerged from the tip of his wand and glimmered their way to the dark shelves.
"Well, at least there's a path," she assured him as he stared at his wand in puzzlement. "I'm sure it was my muggleborn blood that inhibited your spell."
"Even the damn house is holding onto that ridiculous prejudice," he muttered as he followed her eager footsteps.
"This is the same book as in the Hogwarts library," she said while turning the pages carefully, Draco having ascertained that it was safe for her. "There is no new information here." She sighed as she glanced at the four other unprofitable tomes on the table.
"There is still one left." Draco saw that her disappointment was great. "Maybe the best is last?"
"I'm not holding my breath." She dragged her feet as she trailed him into the far corner. She paused at the sight of an incongruous knick-knack. Instead of the burnished gold statues of busts of one of the Hogwarts founders and coiled snakes, this was an opalescent globe in a plain stand.
She picked it up to examine closely. "Draco!" she called. "Isn't this Malfoy Manor?"
He retraced his steps and peered into it. "Yes, it is. Funny, I don't remember seeing that in here before."
"How long has it been since you visited the library?" she quizzed.
"Let's see, I guess that would have been sixth year." He tossed the object to her. "Plenty of new things could have shown up. Uh, just because I don't recognize it, doesn't mean you can do whatever to it."
Ceasing her shaking, she peered inside. "Weird. No snow."
"Snow? What were you expecting?" He looked towards the ceiling-tall windows to see the sun shining brightly.
"Silly me." She replaced it on its stand and followed him.
Hermione's excitement grew when the last volume not only had a lengthy chapter on ailuranthropes but also mentioned that one regional term was the same embarrassing-phrased cryptonym which Luna had used. "That's what they were called in southern Devon, so there must have been some near the Rookery at one time."
"And to think that most of the castle thought Lovegood was loony."
"Don't call her that," Hermione said absently as she made notes on her ever-present parchment.
"Actually, I didn't," he began, halting when he saw her brow crease. After the sudden cessation of movement caused ink to drip from her quill, he took it from her hand and looked over her shoulder. "What is it?"
"'Ailuranthropes have a susceptibility to the herb Nepeta cataria magicis, which is botanically similar to the non-magical plant catnip. It creates a feeling of euphoria, and when distilled into a potion, the effects are magnified, making the creatures malleable and easy to manipulate. Due to the possibility of misuse, this substance is highly controlled and its distribution is carefully monitored. When beast healers have difficulty examining an injured creature, they may apply for a dosage from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Dangerous Plant Division, and must chronicle and verify usage.' Draco!" Her head shot up. "Who do we know who loved cats and hated anyone with less than pure blood?"
"Umbridge?"
"Yes!" She pointed at the page. "When the Ministry was under Voldemort's control, she had a free hand in enslaving the muggleborn and helped pass legislation unfavourable to werewolves and other creatures she mistakenly referred to as 'half-breeds'. What if she turned her eyes to the ailuranthropes?"
"I think you're reaching a bit here." He shook his head. "I know you and she didn't get along and that she did some indefensible things…"
"Not if you take Firenze's references to cats, and–holy crap, Batman!" she slapped herself on the forehead. "Luna said the 'Budelli Banshee' took them. Normally, Umbridge spoke in that annoying little girl voice, but she was certainly screeching when we left her in the forest."
"And Budelli is a beach known for its pink sand."
Hermione stared at him. "How do you know that?"
"Malfoy vacation home." He shrugged before shuddering. "It's been a cool spring so far, but apparently that's not cold enough for you. You'll have trouble getting permission for a trip to the North Sea," he pointed out, "as you are not a relative and have a contentious history with her."
"Not to worry!" She summoned a card from her bottomless bag. "Daphne Greengrass got tired of the Chudley Cannons supporting that arse Ron Weasley and hung out her own shingle."
"I thought she was a solicitor, not a roofer."
"Oh, Draco," she patted a pale cheek, "bless your little pureblood heart."