Perseus frowned thoughtfully at the rows of books in front of him. None of them were what he was looking for. He sighed. How hard could it be to find a book on Animagery? The ability ran in the family. He was sure Aunt Cassieopeia would send him one if he asked, but he really truly did not want to do that. The less he had to do with the old crone, the better. Hopefully the old bint will kick the bucket soon, he thought.
Sighing again, he wandered further down the row towards a back corner of the library which didn't seem to get much sunlight. He began browsing the books, hardly aware of his surroundings.
Just as he was about to give up his search as a lost cause and head back to the common room, he heard sniffling. Very faint, coming from just beyond the massive bookcase in front of him. He was getting the distinct feeling of deja vu.
With a new frown on his face, he walked around the bookcase to see who was crying in the back of the library. Turning the corner and spotting a head of bushy brown hair bowed against the table, he sighed again. He couldn't say he was surprised. The girl seemed to make a habit of crying in secluded areas. And he seemed to be making a habit of finding her.
He approached the table, pulling out the chair opposite her, and sat down rather noisily.
She jumped, fingers gripping the sleeves of her robes tightly. She seemed even more shocked at the fact that it was him of all people sitting across from her than the noise itself. It makes sense, I suppose, he thought, I have been avoiding her a bit after all. It wasn't necessarily that he didn't want to talk to the girl, but well…he was a Slytherin, and she was a muggleborn. As far as he was concerned, the whole idea of blood supremacy is nonsense. However, a lot of Slytherins believed it. A lot of older and more powerful Slytherins. Many of whom could and would make his life difficult, despite him being a Black. The Black family was not what it used to be, and the respect and fear the other families had for them was nearly nonexistent. He would openly depose the older Slytherin's when he was able. But for now, he had no choice but to keep his head down and follow suit. The upper years were not above punishing them if they felt the need. He was already on the right track, and was the de facto leader for his year group, despite the efforts of Malfoy.
"Hello," he said, his voice the same even, quiet, raspy tone he always spoke in.
Granger looked a mess. Her eyes were bloodshot and bleary, and tear marks stained her cheeks. Her hair was even frizzier than usual, if that was possible.
"Hi," she replied, her voice croaky. She flushed a bit and wiped her face quickly.
"I hope this does not become a common occurrence, Granger," he said. She flinched at the use of her last name.
Must remind her of my housemates, he thought. He'd use her first name then. It's not like she'd care much for Pureblood decorum, or like he'd allow himself to be caught speaking to her. He'd already quietly cast the silencing charm after he'd sat down, using her surprise as a distraction. "I found you the first time an idiot made you cry," he said, trying to grin at her the way he saw friends do with each other throughout the school. Based on the odd look she was shooting him, it wasn't successful. "What is it this time?"
Hermione stared back at him for a second, analyzing him through still teary eyes. "You left me in the hospital wing," she said, a bit of a glare slipping into her gaze. "I only wanted to thank you for what you did with the-" she stuttered for a moment, her eyes beginning to shine with tears again, "-with the troll." She finally got the words out. "I only wanted to say thank you, and you left."
Perseus was surprised. Something he was noticing was a common occurrence around this girl. Surely she was not so upset about not having to say thank you? A Slytherin would jump at the chance to accept a favor without having to acknowledge it as such. Wow, he thought, Gryffindors are weird.
"The hug was more than enough thanks," he said, blushing lightly. He'd been thinking about that hug since the moment it happened. The warmth that had surrounded his body had been unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. It was…nice. And he certainly could deal with the touching as long as it came with that same warmth.
She blushed brightly, looking down at the sleeve of her robe as she rolled it between her fingers. "I'm sorry about that, really," she said, looking back at him now. "I'm not sure why I hugged you but," she trailed off, looking at him a bit sadly, "you had your leg crushed and your shoulder dislocated because I was crying in the toilet like a little girl," she looked down again, this time in shame.
In a move that surprised even him, he reached across the table and placed his hand on hers, pleasantly surprised as that same warmth seemed to seep into him at the contact. "Well," he began, a bit hesitant. "I didn't mind the hug," now it was his turn to look down with a blush on his face. "Actually…it was really quite nice," he looked back at her, seeing the relief in her eyes and the brightest smile on her face. "I've never been hugged before, that's all." Her smile melted away, and Perseus felt a strong desire to put it back on her face. The distraught look she gave him did not belong. The tears filling her eyes had no place. It reminded him of long hours spent staring in the mirror, of a time when he was completely alone. Perhaps it was time to change that.
Perseus made a promise to himself right there. He would try his hardest to make sure Hermione never looked like that again. It was the least he could do for the warmth she'd granted him.
"Well…" she began tearfully, but apparently thought better of it. Hermione got out of her seat and all but ran around the table. She stood next to him, and stretched out both arms, a clear and obvious invitation. He froze, only for a moment, as the memory of her warmth wrapping around him filled his mind. The feeling was so foreign and so wonderful. He didn't know what it was, but he knew he wanted to feel it again.
Standing and turning to her, he paused once more in front of her, unsure of how to initiate the hug. She waited patiently. He stared into her big brown eyes, soft and warm and looking at him in a way no one ever had. His hair stood on end and it felt like pixies were flying around his stomach.
He didn't know why, but as he sunk into the warm pools of brown, he trusted her.
Taking a deep breath, he stepped into her, and she instantly enveloped him in her arms. Just like last time, she wrapped her arms around his middle and buried her face in his chest, holding him tightly as if he might disappear. Sobs rocked her small frame, and her tears soaked through his robes. He stood in her grasp, unsure of what to do. Following his instincts, he brought his arms up around her shoulders, and pulled her further into his chest.
Perseus was lost. The same warmth he'd seen in her brown eyes was filling him up, stretching from his scalp to his toes, like he was back bathing in the sun in Milan. The only word he could use to describe the feeling was safe. And in the safety of her arms, he began to sob, burying his face in her riotous hair. He squeezed her tightly, determined to milk her for all the warmth she had to offer.
He'd never felt this before. Never felt safe. Never felt this full of warmth and comfort.
He didn't care that he barely knew the girl. He didn't care that she'd thrown up on him. He didn't care that she was a muggleborn, or that she was best friends with an idiot. He didn't care about anything except the warmth she gave him, and the way she looked at him.
He would do everything he could to make sure he never lost either.
They saw very little of each other over their first year, but they'd exchange small glances and barely concealed smiles. When they did meet, it was almost always in the library. One of the few places Harry and Ron wouldn't follow Hermione.
That was where they sat now, at a secluded table towards the back of the library.
They'd been reading in silence for about 10 minutes, simply enjoying the other's presence. Hermione knew Perseus did not speak much, and when he did his voice was quiet and occasionally raspy. She never asked why, but she knew her control over her curiosity was running out.
Hermione felt like yanking her bushy hair out of her head. She was sure she'd read every book in the library she could find on anyone named Nicholas Flamel. She was sure she had read the name before.
"Hermione," Perseus' quiet voice pulled her from her thoughts.
"Yes, Perseus?" She said. She always felt a sense of camaraderie, just saying his name. Another storybook character, just like her. Though he had told her he was named after a constellation like the rest of the men in his family, it didn't change the contentment she felt.
"What are you looking for?" he said, closing his own book to give her his full attention.
Hermione flushed. He always looked at her like that when they talked, like she was important . Glancing at Perseus' purple eyes, she blinked. It was so obvious . She'd been neglecting a ridiculously large resource this entire time! Perseus knew all kinds of things, from spells, to trivial pieces of information about the most random of things.
"Perseus," she said rapidly, unable to keep the hope out of her voice. "What do you know about Nicholas Flamel?" She grabbed his hand, gripping it tightly, willing him to have the information she needed.
He frowned at her, tilting his head. "Nicholas Flamel? asked Perseus, eyes locked on hers. "The Immortal Alchemist?" Hermione nodded eagerly. This was more information than she'd yielded in all her weeks of research.
He blinked at her slowly, pondering her question. It was a simple question really. It was likely he was trying to figure out her intention for asking, then. She noticed that about him. He tried to find the reasoning behind everything, and was always looking for tertiary reasons, and looking at the ripple of effects an action could have, from the smallest to the largest level. He was far too calculating for a twelve year old, she thought frequently.
"Nicholas Flamel is famous for a few things," he said. Hermione leaned closer to hear his quiet voice. "Most recently, he discovered the 12 uses of dragon blood with Headmaster Dumbledore," so that was where she'd read his name. Dumbeldore's chocolate frog card on the Express! She nodded at him quickly, urging him to continue. "Most famously however, he created what is considered to be the epitome of alchemy," he paused, glancing more fully at Hermione, "The Philosopher's Stone, which grants immortality and can turn lead to gold. He is said to be over 600 years old."
Hermione was beside herself with excitement, bouncing up and down in her chair. Perseus had the answer to her question all along! Squealing, she quickly gathered her books, dumping them in her satchel. She hurried around the table, pulled a still seated Perseus into a tight hug, and took off out of the library, muttering to herself all the while. She had to tell Harry and Ron.
Finally recovering from the impromptu hug and speedy exit, Perseus analyzed what had just taken place.
She had asked him a seemingly innocuous question. That was on character for Hermione, she had a thirst for knowledge, just wanting to know things even if they weren't exactly useful. The rushing off however was unusual. The girl usually tried to stretch their time together as long as she could. What was so important about that information? And more importantly, who was she running off to tell?
He didn't have to think too hard to find the answer to that one.
Perseus sighed inaudibly, slowly sticking his books back into his satchel. He didn't know what was going on with his only friend, but he was sure that it was no good. He'd have to keep an eye out, as discreetly as he could. Malfoy's attempts to become the lead slytherin first year were nonstop, as useless as they were. The boy seemed to think his father was somehow a threat. He must not know that as the Black Heir, Perseus could at any time, dissolve their marriage contract, on the basis that Lucius signed over his family to another when he became a Death Eater and took Voldemort's mark.
He removed his silencing spell, and nodded at Madame Pince on the way out. It was time to go back to the dungeons, where he'd have to deal with the incessant annoyance that was Draco Malfoy.
Why couldn't Hermione have stayed just a little longer?