Breaking Storm
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, just plot.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Draco's password for the Secret Library, 'Assendium,' you'll notice, is very similar to the password to the humped witch in PoA, which is 'Dissendium.' The difference is actually just one word. I didn't really base Draco's password on that, but when I realized it, it was above all ironic. So I decided to keep it, because the strange irony worked; Harry's secret passageway, Draco's Secret Library. I thought it was funny and odd.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chapter Six: The Secret Library
Draco suddenly stopped in front of a dusty bookshelf in a dark corner of the library. Hermione was squinting through the dark; she could see cobwebs, tattered books, and old candlesticks. She tried to concentrate on those things, any one of those things, instead of thinking about how his hand seemed to be holding her hand so firmly and tight, and the weird, flickering feeling in her stomach that it brought. She tried to tell herself he was only doing that because he didn't want her to wander or get lost, but deep down inside she was wishing deeply that he would never let go.
The air around her felt cold, although for such an old looking room that seemed as if no one had ever come in for ages, it didn't smell musty or old. As odd as it was, it smelled fresh and bitter, like the night air. The scent sent something to build up in her, quickly stacking and mounding to her lungs. Suddenly, she could feel her hair rise as she felt a chilly breeze, although as she looked around, there was no sign of a window nearby. She walked closer to him, suddenly feeling worry and fear inside of her. She couldn't see Draco's face, but she could still see the glowing shine of his platinum blonde hair, even in such looming darkness such as this. Hermione watched him intently, wishing he would hurry, although wishing he would never be far from being this close to her again.
"Assendium," he said lowly, and the bookcase creaked as it slid aside. She peered from behind him, and saw the blackest darkness she had ever seen. She swallowed hard as she stared at it, wide-eyed.
"Uh-" she started, but Draco pulled her forward.
"Let's go," he said to her, and they walked into the complete darkness. Hermione stumbled forward, and the bookcase behind her closed. She stood, frozen, as Draco tried to pull her behind him again. The darkness loomed around her, and she felt herself becoming cold and even slightly afraid. She always had a slight fear of dark places. Really, really dark places. Draco pulled at her hand, but she wouldn't budge. He turned around to face her, and as strange as it was, she could still see the glimmer of his silver eyes. It struck her with amazement and curiosity; even in such a dark place such as this, where she could not even see her own hands if she held it right in front of her face, his eyes still shone like the glowing moonbeams in the midnight sky. It seemed there was nothing his piercing eyes couldn't penetrate through. It seemed as if they could reach her through anything, anything at all, and it brought her slight comfort; even if it was far from the truth.
"What is it?" he asked her. She stood silent, so mesmerized by his gaze. Just then, she suddenly knew that he was smirking at her.
"You're not scared of the dark, are you Granger?" he said, amusement in his voice. Hermione turned away from his gaze, which, she was sure, could still clearly read her, even in the dark.
"Let's go," she said, and he just nodded, chuckling as he still held her hand in his, making his way through the darkness. Hermione tried to keep her wits and thoughts together, although their echoing footsteps made her jumpy. She couldn't help but imagine in her mind that something was going to pop up and she was going to jump up twenty feet in the air from fright and surprise. Hermione shuddered. She never liked surprises in such creepy, cold and dark places such as this.
"How far do we have to go?" she asked him. She felt his hand tighten around hers, and her heartbeats suddenly became deafening in her ears.
"We're here," he finally said to her. She felt him stop, and she halted. She swallowed hard, as silence filled the room, although accompanied by her heart's booming rhythmic beats.
"Menatridus," she heard him say. Then suddenly, lights flickered on and she had to stand back and blink to get adjusted to the abrupt effects. But as she opened her eyes, it was hard for her to take in her surroundings. She could barely speak. Her mouth was open, gaping at the place. It was absolutely magnificent, absolutely wonderful. Draco's hand loosened on hers and let go, as he watched her face intently, sorry to let go but knew it would've been awkward if he had held on. She walked slowly to the bookshelves, and touched the shelves and books in awe. Draco could feel a smile forming on his face, just watching her reaction. He knew she would like it, and for that he felt great appreciation for her. Somehow, he was glad to be able to share it with her, to show it to her. All of the girls he knew couldn't care less about a valuable, old library. His hand still burned and tingled pleasantly from holding her hand, the cold air seeming intrusive and bitter against his skin. He missed the warmth he once held in his hand, the feeling of her connected to him for a moment.
Hermione looked around, still absolutely speechless. She couldn't believe it. She didn't know this, such a thing as this, could ever exist. The ceiling above was filled with detailed paintings of angels and the heavens, goddesses and fairies, the sun, the stars and the moon, all at once. The walls were hinted with sparkling gold, a faint hue of the color setting the place off as dreamy and surreal. She knew this could only happen in her dreams. Yet, here she was, standing in the midst of the stunning place. She turned, only to see more magnificent and tall shelves filled with ancient books, the floor shiny and somehow glimmering underneath her. The room was vast, no doors in view, just shelves and books. She felt that swelling feeling inside of her again.
"I take it you like it, then?" he asked her. She turned around to him, the circular room so perfect and stunning. Draco felt his heart stop when he saw her face. She was absolutely glowing, her bright, brown eyes sparkling like he had never seen before. Her mouth was curved into a breathtaking smile, her hair shimmering in the light.
He had never thought she looked so beautiful.
"It's perfect," she told him, her voice still faint from awe. She walked closer to him, and he could feel his heartbeats start to hammer loudly in his ears. He swallowed hard as he looked into her deep brown eyes, her face less than a foot away.
"How did you find this?" she asked him. He smiled, looking around the room then returning his gaze to her.
"My father told me about this, actually," he told her, his eyes not even wavering or flickering with anything as he mentioned his father. He continued. "Back when he was still here, he told me, and how he found this with his friends. How he got in, I have not a clue," he chuckled lightly. "But he told me that if I ever needed a place to myself, somewhere quiet, somewhere I could get away from Hogwarts without leaving the grounds or getting caught, I could come here." Something in his eyes made Hermione's heart flip and pound noisily inside her chest.
"I didn't come here right away when he told me," his gaze left her as he looked behind her. "But when he was gone," he paused, "I didn't ever plan on coming here; I even forgot about it for a while. But I found myself here, following the steps and the spells and his sense of direction." Hermione looked down, as she noticed this when he had looked away; it still hurt him to talk about his father, and she understood. It wasn't easy and it never was going to be when your father, the one who taught you who to hate, the one who taught you everything you knew, everything you could possibly want to know, was suddenly taken away.
And soon finding out that you'll never see him again, finding out that your father whom you looked up to for all your life wasn't even going to be there for you to see. Even someone as strong as Draco, someone who used to be so cold and vacant and absolutely void of any emotion besides that, could not hold it down. No one could.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to him. His back was turned to her now, as he had started walking past her as he was talking.
"Don't be," he said in a cold, hard voice. "He was a bastard. He deserved it." Hermione's eyes lingered on his back, as he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself. All these feelings and emotions that he had thought he had long since buried had come back again, slicing and ripping through him. The truth was, he had never said anything about his father to anyone. Not to his mother, not to anyone who ever asked. But yet, here he was, telling her. Confessing. And the odd thing was, he felt like telling her more, spilling out what he had kept bottled inside for far too long. He felt no regret of telling her; he knew she wasn't the type of person to gossip and spread news about anything as such a private matter as this. Maybe that was why he proceeded with telling her more; because he knew he could trust her. Even though he was a cold, witty Slytherin and she was a brave Gryffindor. Even though they were as diverse as diverse could get. She was different; she understood. She knew what an evil person his father was; yet he knew she understood how he felt. He got the feeling that she was the only one and would be the only one, though she was best friends with the person who had driven his father to the edge. He didn't hold it against her, or anything else, for that matter. Because somewhere deep inside, he was grateful to have found her, although she had been in front of him all these years. He thought maybe that she would be the one to help him, to bring back what he had missed all these years. Something about her told him that she was important, and that he would need her, if he didn't already.
"I only wish I'd seen it sooner," he told her, turning around and entrancing her in his eyes once again. "Maybe then I would've realized that act he'd been pulling on me all along." Hermione stared into his eyes, and something that flickered in them made it suddenly hard for him to swallow.
"You couldn't have known," she said, her voice kind and soft. "Even if you should've, you couldn't have. And it's not your fault; you can't blame yourself for your father's doing. No one can." Draco's eyes bore into her, and suddenly she wasn't aware of the stacks and stacks of books around them. She wasn't aware of the glittering walls, or time going by at all. It felt as if some warm, but frosty and calming gray pool had taken her in and was drowning her pleasantly. She wasn't even aware if she was breathing anymore, just that her heart was booming and her head felt so woozy and light-headed from the way he was looking at her. She suddenly noticed their closeness, and that his face was just mere inches from hers. Her knees began to feel weak, a glowing warmth rising and spreading through her stomach. His dark silver eyes were only glimmering distinctively, but enough to keep her trapped and engulfed by the feelings and emotions they brought to her. But as she was leaning in closer, she froze. She felt something snap inside her, and she turned her head and looked away from his hypnotizing eyes. She felt her nerves and senses screaming at her, as she prevented herself from raising her hands to cover her face and let out a long, ragged sigh.
Draco froze, as he saw her reaction. He also snapped out of whatever he had been in, and pulled back slowly. He swore at himself mentally, shutting his eyes for a moment, trying to calm all the nerves that were bursting inside of him. He licked his lips, as he felt suddenly as if the air had gotten feverishly warm. He opened his eyes, and looked at her; her cheeks were rosy as she looked at her feet, avoiding his gaze. He turned away, as he tried to forget that moment and convince himself that it was nothing. But there was something bubbling and coursing through his veins that he couldn't quite identify, yet he knew it had to do with her somehow. He ran a hand through his silky hair, his gray eyes settling on one of the bookshelves. He tried to steady the rapid beats of his heart.
"Feel free to borrow anything from here," he told her, his voice still firm and as steady as before. She looked back up at him, and could tell he was avoiding her gaze. She was slightly confused at what had happened, or yet, what had been about to happen between them.
"Except over there," he said, and she looked over to where he was looking. It was a bookshelf, one that seemed darker and more mysterious than the others, although it didn't make sense how it could to her. Something about it made a chill travel up her spine. Draco's eyes wandered back to her again. He looked at her, his eyes dark and serious.
"Don't ever go near there, or lay a hand on that shelf or any of the books over there, do you understand?" There was something dark that flickered in his eyes that told her he knew something about it, but was not willing to tell her. The tone of his voice was stern, and his expression did not give him away. She didn't quite understand, and she wanted to ask why she wasn't allowed to go near it, but she found that her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. She just nodded, and his features softened slightly. He sighed, looking around the room.
"Promise me," he said, almost in a whisper. Her heart fluttered as if it had just grown wings and struggled to fly away.
"I promise," she said softly.
"Don't say a word about this; not to Potter or Weasley, or Dumbledore, or anyone else. This place was intended to be kept a secret," his gaze flickered over to the restricted bookcase again, "for more reasons than one."
"Dumbledore doesn't know about this place?"
"He does. But I'd rather that he doesn't get concerned over who comes over here, and he certainly doesn't like it when students bring it up. He thinks it's dangerous to have anyone coming over here, but he's let me come here since he caught me sometime last year." He smiled faintly. "He was shocked to see that someone else, a student, rather, knew about this place also. If you're up here as often as I think you're going to be, you might run into him sometimes."
"You mean I can come up here as often as I like?" she asked, hopeful. His smile widened at the look on her face.
"You know the way, don't you? The passwords.. It's quite easy once you get over your fear of dark places. But for that part, there's also a spell for lights, if you get too scared." Hermione gaped at him.
"You mean to tell me that you could've easily said a spell for the lights in that dark hole?" He grinned at her.
"Now you know, Granger."
"I can't believe you," she muttered, imagining that pitch-black darkness she had to walk in for ten minutes.
"I happen to like cold, dark, creepy places," Draco said, amused. "Besides, I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave."
"Gryffindors prefer light in dark places when it's possible and absolutely necessary," she said. Draco chuckled, his laughter filling her ears fluidly.
"You should've just said yes when I asked if you were afraid. I would've cued in the lights." Hermione felt a blush spread through her cheeks, as she looked down and didn't answer. Draco laughed again, heartily; not sharp, cruel and cold. Hearing his laugh, for some odd reason, warmed her heart in some way. After his laughter subsided, although still chiming and echoing in her ears, he spoke.
"I'll be up here sometimes. But sometimes I won't be, and just remember what I told you. I don't want you getting hurt, or worse, up here." Hermione opened her mouth to ask what could possibly hurt her up here, besides books falling on her, although that was highly unlikely without Peeves in the room, but closed it as he smiled at her and started walking towards the books. She sighed, watching his walking figure, before smiling and looking around the circular room again.
The walls were still tinted gold if you had an eye for such a thing. It was stunning and magnificent, although it was quite small. Smaller than the library, of course. It was almost just a circular room with bookshelves standing shoulder to shoulder, with few in the middle of the room, but there was a wide, open space where it was just empty; just the shiny, sparkling floor. Almost like a ballroom. Her smile widened as she headed for the shelves also.
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, just plot.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Draco's password for the Secret Library, 'Assendium,' you'll notice, is very similar to the password to the humped witch in PoA, which is 'Dissendium.' The difference is actually just one word. I didn't really base Draco's password on that, but when I realized it, it was above all ironic. So I decided to keep it, because the strange irony worked; Harry's secret passageway, Draco's Secret Library. I thought it was funny and odd.
I hope you all enjoy this chapter.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Chapter Six: The Secret Library
Draco suddenly stopped in front of a dusty bookshelf in a dark corner of the library. Hermione was squinting through the dark; she could see cobwebs, tattered books, and old candlesticks. She tried to concentrate on those things, any one of those things, instead of thinking about how his hand seemed to be holding her hand so firmly and tight, and the weird, flickering feeling in her stomach that it brought. She tried to tell herself he was only doing that because he didn't want her to wander or get lost, but deep down inside she was wishing deeply that he would never let go.
The air around her felt cold, although for such an old looking room that seemed as if no one had ever come in for ages, it didn't smell musty or old. As odd as it was, it smelled fresh and bitter, like the night air. The scent sent something to build up in her, quickly stacking and mounding to her lungs. Suddenly, she could feel her hair rise as she felt a chilly breeze, although as she looked around, there was no sign of a window nearby. She walked closer to him, suddenly feeling worry and fear inside of her. She couldn't see Draco's face, but she could still see the glowing shine of his platinum blonde hair, even in such looming darkness such as this. Hermione watched him intently, wishing he would hurry, although wishing he would never be far from being this close to her again.
"Assendium," he said lowly, and the bookcase creaked as it slid aside. She peered from behind him, and saw the blackest darkness she had ever seen. She swallowed hard as she stared at it, wide-eyed.
"Uh-" she started, but Draco pulled her forward.
"Let's go," he said to her, and they walked into the complete darkness. Hermione stumbled forward, and the bookcase behind her closed. She stood, frozen, as Draco tried to pull her behind him again. The darkness loomed around her, and she felt herself becoming cold and even slightly afraid. She always had a slight fear of dark places. Really, really dark places. Draco pulled at her hand, but she wouldn't budge. He turned around to face her, and as strange as it was, she could still see the glimmer of his silver eyes. It struck her with amazement and curiosity; even in such a dark place such as this, where she could not even see her own hands if she held it right in front of her face, his eyes still shone like the glowing moonbeams in the midnight sky. It seemed there was nothing his piercing eyes couldn't penetrate through. It seemed as if they could reach her through anything, anything at all, and it brought her slight comfort; even if it was far from the truth.
"What is it?" he asked her. She stood silent, so mesmerized by his gaze. Just then, she suddenly knew that he was smirking at her.
"You're not scared of the dark, are you Granger?" he said, amusement in his voice. Hermione turned away from his gaze, which, she was sure, could still clearly read her, even in the dark.
"Let's go," she said, and he just nodded, chuckling as he still held her hand in his, making his way through the darkness. Hermione tried to keep her wits and thoughts together, although their echoing footsteps made her jumpy. She couldn't help but imagine in her mind that something was going to pop up and she was going to jump up twenty feet in the air from fright and surprise. Hermione shuddered. She never liked surprises in such creepy, cold and dark places such as this.
"How far do we have to go?" she asked him. She felt his hand tighten around hers, and her heartbeats suddenly became deafening in her ears.
"We're here," he finally said to her. She felt him stop, and she halted. She swallowed hard, as silence filled the room, although accompanied by her heart's booming rhythmic beats.
"Menatridus," she heard him say. Then suddenly, lights flickered on and she had to stand back and blink to get adjusted to the abrupt effects. But as she opened her eyes, it was hard for her to take in her surroundings. She could barely speak. Her mouth was open, gaping at the place. It was absolutely magnificent, absolutely wonderful. Draco's hand loosened on hers and let go, as he watched her face intently, sorry to let go but knew it would've been awkward if he had held on. She walked slowly to the bookshelves, and touched the shelves and books in awe. Draco could feel a smile forming on his face, just watching her reaction. He knew she would like it, and for that he felt great appreciation for her. Somehow, he was glad to be able to share it with her, to show it to her. All of the girls he knew couldn't care less about a valuable, old library. His hand still burned and tingled pleasantly from holding her hand, the cold air seeming intrusive and bitter against his skin. He missed the warmth he once held in his hand, the feeling of her connected to him for a moment.
Hermione looked around, still absolutely speechless. She couldn't believe it. She didn't know this, such a thing as this, could ever exist. The ceiling above was filled with detailed paintings of angels and the heavens, goddesses and fairies, the sun, the stars and the moon, all at once. The walls were hinted with sparkling gold, a faint hue of the color setting the place off as dreamy and surreal. She knew this could only happen in her dreams. Yet, here she was, standing in the midst of the stunning place. She turned, only to see more magnificent and tall shelves filled with ancient books, the floor shiny and somehow glimmering underneath her. The room was vast, no doors in view, just shelves and books. She felt that swelling feeling inside of her again.
"I take it you like it, then?" he asked her. She turned around to him, the circular room so perfect and stunning. Draco felt his heart stop when he saw her face. She was absolutely glowing, her bright, brown eyes sparkling like he had never seen before. Her mouth was curved into a breathtaking smile, her hair shimmering in the light.
He had never thought she looked so beautiful.
"It's perfect," she told him, her voice still faint from awe. She walked closer to him, and he could feel his heartbeats start to hammer loudly in his ears. He swallowed hard as he looked into her deep brown eyes, her face less than a foot away.
"How did you find this?" she asked him. He smiled, looking around the room then returning his gaze to her.
"My father told me about this, actually," he told her, his eyes not even wavering or flickering with anything as he mentioned his father. He continued. "Back when he was still here, he told me, and how he found this with his friends. How he got in, I have not a clue," he chuckled lightly. "But he told me that if I ever needed a place to myself, somewhere quiet, somewhere I could get away from Hogwarts without leaving the grounds or getting caught, I could come here." Something in his eyes made Hermione's heart flip and pound noisily inside her chest.
"I didn't come here right away when he told me," his gaze left her as he looked behind her. "But when he was gone," he paused, "I didn't ever plan on coming here; I even forgot about it for a while. But I found myself here, following the steps and the spells and his sense of direction." Hermione looked down, as she noticed this when he had looked away; it still hurt him to talk about his father, and she understood. It wasn't easy and it never was going to be when your father, the one who taught you who to hate, the one who taught you everything you knew, everything you could possibly want to know, was suddenly taken away.
And soon finding out that you'll never see him again, finding out that your father whom you looked up to for all your life wasn't even going to be there for you to see. Even someone as strong as Draco, someone who used to be so cold and vacant and absolutely void of any emotion besides that, could not hold it down. No one could.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to him. His back was turned to her now, as he had started walking past her as he was talking.
"Don't be," he said in a cold, hard voice. "He was a bastard. He deserved it." Hermione's eyes lingered on his back, as he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to compose himself. All these feelings and emotions that he had thought he had long since buried had come back again, slicing and ripping through him. The truth was, he had never said anything about his father to anyone. Not to his mother, not to anyone who ever asked. But yet, here he was, telling her. Confessing. And the odd thing was, he felt like telling her more, spilling out what he had kept bottled inside for far too long. He felt no regret of telling her; he knew she wasn't the type of person to gossip and spread news about anything as such a private matter as this. Maybe that was why he proceeded with telling her more; because he knew he could trust her. Even though he was a cold, witty Slytherin and she was a brave Gryffindor. Even though they were as diverse as diverse could get. She was different; she understood. She knew what an evil person his father was; yet he knew she understood how he felt. He got the feeling that she was the only one and would be the only one, though she was best friends with the person who had driven his father to the edge. He didn't hold it against her, or anything else, for that matter. Because somewhere deep inside, he was grateful to have found her, although she had been in front of him all these years. He thought maybe that she would be the one to help him, to bring back what he had missed all these years. Something about her told him that she was important, and that he would need her, if he didn't already.
"I only wish I'd seen it sooner," he told her, turning around and entrancing her in his eyes once again. "Maybe then I would've realized that act he'd been pulling on me all along." Hermione stared into his eyes, and something that flickered in them made it suddenly hard for him to swallow.
"You couldn't have known," she said, her voice kind and soft. "Even if you should've, you couldn't have. And it's not your fault; you can't blame yourself for your father's doing. No one can." Draco's eyes bore into her, and suddenly she wasn't aware of the stacks and stacks of books around them. She wasn't aware of the glittering walls, or time going by at all. It felt as if some warm, but frosty and calming gray pool had taken her in and was drowning her pleasantly. She wasn't even aware if she was breathing anymore, just that her heart was booming and her head felt so woozy and light-headed from the way he was looking at her. She suddenly noticed their closeness, and that his face was just mere inches from hers. Her knees began to feel weak, a glowing warmth rising and spreading through her stomach. His dark silver eyes were only glimmering distinctively, but enough to keep her trapped and engulfed by the feelings and emotions they brought to her. But as she was leaning in closer, she froze. She felt something snap inside her, and she turned her head and looked away from his hypnotizing eyes. She felt her nerves and senses screaming at her, as she prevented herself from raising her hands to cover her face and let out a long, ragged sigh.
Draco froze, as he saw her reaction. He also snapped out of whatever he had been in, and pulled back slowly. He swore at himself mentally, shutting his eyes for a moment, trying to calm all the nerves that were bursting inside of him. He licked his lips, as he felt suddenly as if the air had gotten feverishly warm. He opened his eyes, and looked at her; her cheeks were rosy as she looked at her feet, avoiding his gaze. He turned away, as he tried to forget that moment and convince himself that it was nothing. But there was something bubbling and coursing through his veins that he couldn't quite identify, yet he knew it had to do with her somehow. He ran a hand through his silky hair, his gray eyes settling on one of the bookshelves. He tried to steady the rapid beats of his heart.
"Feel free to borrow anything from here," he told her, his voice still firm and as steady as before. She looked back up at him, and could tell he was avoiding her gaze. She was slightly confused at what had happened, or yet, what had been about to happen between them.
"Except over there," he said, and she looked over to where he was looking. It was a bookshelf, one that seemed darker and more mysterious than the others, although it didn't make sense how it could to her. Something about it made a chill travel up her spine. Draco's eyes wandered back to her again. He looked at her, his eyes dark and serious.
"Don't ever go near there, or lay a hand on that shelf or any of the books over there, do you understand?" There was something dark that flickered in his eyes that told her he knew something about it, but was not willing to tell her. The tone of his voice was stern, and his expression did not give him away. She didn't quite understand, and she wanted to ask why she wasn't allowed to go near it, but she found that her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth. She just nodded, and his features softened slightly. He sighed, looking around the room.
"Promise me," he said, almost in a whisper. Her heart fluttered as if it had just grown wings and struggled to fly away.
"I promise," she said softly.
"Don't say a word about this; not to Potter or Weasley, or Dumbledore, or anyone else. This place was intended to be kept a secret," his gaze flickered over to the restricted bookcase again, "for more reasons than one."
"Dumbledore doesn't know about this place?"
"He does. But I'd rather that he doesn't get concerned over who comes over here, and he certainly doesn't like it when students bring it up. He thinks it's dangerous to have anyone coming over here, but he's let me come here since he caught me sometime last year." He smiled faintly. "He was shocked to see that someone else, a student, rather, knew about this place also. If you're up here as often as I think you're going to be, you might run into him sometimes."
"You mean I can come up here as often as I like?" she asked, hopeful. His smile widened at the look on her face.
"You know the way, don't you? The passwords.. It's quite easy once you get over your fear of dark places. But for that part, there's also a spell for lights, if you get too scared." Hermione gaped at him.
"You mean to tell me that you could've easily said a spell for the lights in that dark hole?" He grinned at her.
"Now you know, Granger."
"I can't believe you," she muttered, imagining that pitch-black darkness she had to walk in for ten minutes.
"I happen to like cold, dark, creepy places," Draco said, amused. "Besides, I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave."
"Gryffindors prefer light in dark places when it's possible and absolutely necessary," she said. Draco chuckled, his laughter filling her ears fluidly.
"You should've just said yes when I asked if you were afraid. I would've cued in the lights." Hermione felt a blush spread through her cheeks, as she looked down and didn't answer. Draco laughed again, heartily; not sharp, cruel and cold. Hearing his laugh, for some odd reason, warmed her heart in some way. After his laughter subsided, although still chiming and echoing in her ears, he spoke.
"I'll be up here sometimes. But sometimes I won't be, and just remember what I told you. I don't want you getting hurt, or worse, up here." Hermione opened her mouth to ask what could possibly hurt her up here, besides books falling on her, although that was highly unlikely without Peeves in the room, but closed it as he smiled at her and started walking towards the books. She sighed, watching his walking figure, before smiling and looking around the circular room again.
The walls were still tinted gold if you had an eye for such a thing. It was stunning and magnificent, although it was quite small. Smaller than the library, of course. It was almost just a circular room with bookshelves standing shoulder to shoulder, with few in the middle of the room, but there was a wide, open space where it was just empty; just the shiny, sparkling floor. Almost like a ballroom. Her smile widened as she headed for the shelves also.