Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim the Harry Potter series, which belongs to J. K. Rowling.
AN: A big thank-you to the ones who have reviewed after the last two chapters, Lin Koorbloh, bringITback, ShellyHale, Anachronistic Anglophile, A-Lady and A. N. Ravencroft.
Now, on with the chapter.
Partners – Chapter 5 – When Hermione hates a library
by Leopion
If you happen to know Hermione Granger, I bet you have probably put the phrase 'when Hermione hates a library' in the same category as 'when pigs fly'. Even Hermione herself would have to admit to that. What's more, as a witch, she would also tell you that actually you could make pigs fly by using a simple Levitation Charm. On the other hand, making Hermione turn against a library was merely impossible. Draco Malfoy, or rather, his library had proved her wrong.
Hermione's second day at Malfoy Manor started quite peacefully. When Knobbly the house-elf came to lead her down to the dining room for breakfast, Malfoy had already started his meal and seemed determined to pretend that she didn't exist. That was more than fine by her since she had expected to be greeted with some insults. However, Hermione couldn't help but feel a bit weird when Malfoy offered to show her something after breakfast.
'When you've finished your breakfast, I'd like to show you something,' he said, with perfect civility, not even a ghost of a smirk on his face. That had made Hermione come to the conclusion that either she had woken up in an alternate universe this morning or Malfoy's civility was used purposefully to maximise the effect of the fiasco ahead. Quite unfortunately, the later seemed more plausible.
When Hermione had finished her omelette, they exited the dining room, which was on the ground floor, and set off along the hallway. Soon Hermione came to a stop as she realised that they were moving westwards.
'I thought you don't want me to be in the West Wing,' she said.
'This is an exception,' replied Malfoy, who kept strolling leisurely in front of her.
'And why is that?' demanded Hermione, still refusing to follow. There was definitely something fishy going on here.
This time Malfoy stopped and whirled around to face her, looking annoyed.
'The Ministry said that I must allow you to use the library of the Manor as a substitute for the Hogwarts library.'
Hermione's face lit up considerably, 'So we're headed towards the library?'
'As much as I hate to say this, yes. And if you don't shut up and follow me, we'll never get there,' answered Malfoy, once again in an annoyed tone.
'Oh, okay,' said Hermione as she hurriedly followed Malfoy, a spring added to her step. They passed various rooms and corridors in silence before reaching a grand double door. Once they got inside, Hermione gasped. Magnificent was the only word she could think of to describe the Malfoys' library. If there was a reason for Hermione to wish that she were rich, then it was to have a place like this. She ambled about the spacious circular room. All around her, thousands of books were stacked neatly on the shelves, which were mounted higher one after another until they reached the lofty ceiling. The walls of books, however, were interspersed with two grand French windows, where the sunlight streamed in and filled the room. In the middle sat an oval table with many chairs used for studying. Hermione slowly examined the bookshelves. Most of the books on the lower shelves were extremely old despite the new look that they might have shown. She looked up and wondered if all the books in this library were hundreds of years old. It was then that Hermione realised she had no way to get the books on the higher shelves.
'How can—' she had just begun her question as she turned around and caught sight of Malfoy hovering in mid air on a rather peculiar broomstick with some kind of wooden plate at the handle. He was smirking triumphantly when he told her as if it was the most normal thing in the world, 'You have to fly to get to the top.'
It was quite bizarre to say, but this smirk was one that Draco Malfoy hadn't got to use for quite a while. The arrival of Hermione Granger was by no means pleasant to him. However, Draco had decided to make the most of the situation by making her life miserable. He didn't even have to make an effort to do so because his library had done the job for him.
Just like many other parts of the house, the Manor's library had its own magic and only obeyed the Lord of the Manor's wishes. Each Malfoy generation had his own way of utilising it. His grandfather Abraxas Malfoy, for instance, created a moving spiral staircase while his father commanded the books he needed to come. Ever since Draco was old enough to read, he had yearned for the day he could apply his Quidditch system to this library. Two years ago, his wish was fulfilled as the Manor was automatically passed on to him upon his father's imprisonment. Although he was too preoccupied to feel the slightest thrill at that time, this system certainly came in handy now.
Draco kept smirking while Granger's facial expression had turned from shock to anger. Then he decided that it was time to fuel her anger some more.
'Just say "exorior" then a broom will appear. It's pretty easy, considering we both know how good you are at everything.'
Her anger did boil up, as he'd expected. What he hadn't anticipated, however, was that it would come in the form of a gigantic book shooting towards him, narrowly missing his head. No wonder why Weasley was brainless, probably because of being banged in the head too much.
After storming back to her room, silently cursing Malfoy and his stupid library, Hermione was determined not to set foot into that place ever again, no matter how magnificent it was. But her resolve didn't last long: The moment the assignment package from Hogwarts arrived, she knew that she needed that library. Seeing that settling in Malfoy Manor might require time, McGonagall had allowed her to submit the assignments later than other students. However, Hermione didn't want to be late.
So she was once again in Malfoy's library, trying to work out a solution. After further inspection, she was now more than suspicious of the fact that only the ancient books were within her reach. While they were certainly interesting with a capital 'i', they had absolutely nothing to do with all her N.E.W.T subjects except for Ancient Runes. And as much as she'd love to get an O+ in Ancient Runes, it wouldn't do at all if she failed everything else.
Hermione began recollecting all of the spells that might be useful. Well, she could levitate herself so that she could reach the books she needed, that was, until she was actually engrossed in a book and lost her concentration. Then the result would be a resounding thud as she landed on the floor, some broken ribs, and possibly a broken neck. Of course, the losing concentration issue would be solved if she had someone else to levitate her instead, but it still didn't cure her fear of heights. More importantly, the only someone else she could find within a five-mile radius was Draco Malfoy.
Speaking of the devil, he had just appeared at the door with a package similar to the one she'd received. Hermione decided to ignore him and focus on her problem regardless of the tiny voice that kept telling her he was her problem. Oh, just forget that. Let's consider the other option: 'Levicorpus'. She could be sure that she wouldn't fall until she deliberately thought 'Liberacorpus', but being hoisted up by the ankle wasn't exactly a good idea.
Finally tired of pacing, Hermione sat down at the oval table, staring helplessly at the thick envelope that contained her lessons and assignments for the week. Malfoy was zooming idly around the library on his broomstick, looking completely at ease. Every once in a while he would take a book off a shelf and add it into the pile of his reference for Slughorn's Potions essay. Hermione looked in its direction longingly. No, don't get her wrong! She said its as referring to the pile of books, not his. That bloody jerk deserved baleful glares, which she had been giving him quite a lot over the past few minutes. Now Hermione did not normally swear even in her thoughts, so that was definitely saying something.
Hermione decided to spend the rest of her Wednesday in her room, writing her essays with only a trunk of books for reference. That was just a short-term solution; one way or another she would have to find a more reliable source if she didn't want to fail her classes. And then there was the problem with practical subjects. She would certainly need to brew real potions, practise real spells, and struggle with real plants, not just read about them. So on the following day, she had reluctantly set her homework aside to take a tour around the 'non-restricted' area of the Manor to find a suitable room for each of the aforementioned lessons. With Knobbly's help, Hermione had visited almost every accessible room in the East Wing by Saturday afternoon. She picked the Ball Room for Transfiguration, Charms and DADA. One of the guest bedrooms was transformed into a Potions chamber. And since she had to study with Malfoy to supervise his wand-using, she would have to set up a schedule. Luckily, the first Transfiguration lesson was simply revising human transfiguration, which could be done rather quickly right after dinner that night.
Draco stared at the wand in his hand. Ash wood and unicorn hair. Ten and a quarter inches. Smooth and flexible. His mother's wand. No, it was his wand now. His mother was not allowed to use a wand any more, not that she could even handle one. He quickly pushed the thought away from his mind. He was not going to have a breakdown in front of Granger.
'What's the matter?' she asked, with a quizzical and, dare he think it, worried look on her face.
'Just asking myself what hex would suit you most,' he replied wryly, despite his nearly clogged-up throat.
She scowled, 'I think it's time you stop daydreaming and do your work. We haven't made any progress since the start of the school year.'
Draco swiftly changed his eyebrows into brown and back.
'Happy now?' he asked, then upon second thought added, 'For your information, it is you who hasn't made any progress. I've sent my essay to Slughorn already. And if you excuse me, I still have a Herb—'
'Expelliarmus!'
The wand flew out of Draco's grasp and was caught easily by Granger. She gave him a you've-asked-for-it sort of glare as if daring him to retort, but he said nothing and simply walked out of the room. He really did need some time alone.
Hermione went back to her room, feeling frustrated. She had just finished her first Transfiguration 'lesson'. So what? She glanced at the pile of essays sitting on her desk. She had tried to use every book she had to write them. But the fact that they could be called decent didn't mean that anyone should hand them in to their teachers. Her stream of thoughts was cut off by the sound of something falling from her pocket. Hermione bent down to pick it up. It was Malfoy's wand, or now she'd thought of it, it could have belonged to Narcissa. Was that why Malfoy had stared at it so pensively when they were in the dining room?
She couldn't imagine how she would feel had her parents were imprisoned like his. Not that she didn't want to commiserate. It was just that every time she began to feel any kind of sympathy towards him, he never failed to instantly turn her off, being the prat that he was. However, Hermione had to wonder if it was just his way of defending himself, like the porcupine raising its quills whenever something try to approach. Or maybe she had been thinking too much. The very thought made her want to smile. She was Hermione Granger, after all. The notion reminded her that she had a schedule to arrange. Hermione Granger must always be an organised person, she told herself while pencilling in the plan for Monday: 8 a.m. DADA in the Ball Room.
AN: Thank you for reading. I'd love to hear your opinions :)
Good luck!
Leo