It wasn't as if I was I was unimpressed by the Malfoy Library. As Much as I hated to admit it to myself, I could never resent any library. The Weasley twins enjoyed to tease me whenever they caught me entering or exiting the school's library. "Aw look, the cute little creature has finally departed from its natural habitat. Bold move!"
Furthermore, I was even less surprised to learn most their collection was not only ancient and respectable, but a healthy portion of it could very well be labeled "Restricted Section" material as well. In truth, I highly doubted Hogwarts would ever allow its archives to display books with titles like Mighty Magick by Midnight, Summon the Spiteful Sprites, or Determine the Damnation Laws of Demonology, for students in the first place.
What was even worse, the growing number of unsettling texts could have been used or borrowed by Lord Voldemort given his Mode of Operation in mind.
But after discarding that specific thought, followed an alternative one. What if Voldemort had indeed taken advantage of the Malfoys for his research? Perhaps, for Horcruxes research in particular? Voldemort surely didn't need Lucius now, since the old outside rumors had stated Lucius was thrown into Azkaban for another round of punishment for letting them escape Malfoy Manor years ago.
"Horcruxes..." I mused softly to myself.
What if I could find that material and learn what the enemy had known as well? What if I could even out the score someway, in any small amount? I suddenly reminded myself that true Gryffindors would never give in no matter how dire situations were. And I knew Harry would share that opinion too, wherever he really was these days.
So—before I knew it—my feet moved beneath me on a complete will of their own! Up and down the aisles I went, climbing one staircase to reach one balcony, and then another, like a mad woman out on a murder mission. Clearly the sheer adrenaline had glossed my better judgment of things, considering after the first few minutes, I began to seize every single leathery spine that was basically in range. The sense of time drifted right over me.
And it wasn't until a body blocked my path while I shuffled sideways, brushing my fingertips across the current rows of books. It was a familiar tall and lean body, dressed in refined black and silver robes. Quite reluctantly I forced my head to rotate his way. And as soon as I met those penetrating, bright grey eyes of his from such a close range, a quaking chill shot through my system.
He tipped his head. "Looking for something in particular?"
As he questioned this arching a pale brow, I stole one moment or two to observe my surroundings. The sight almost made me physically ill. I apparently had gone into such an ambitious frenzy that I had entirely missed the part when I started to toss books all around, forgetting (or not bothering) to replace them. Now a great collection of them laid here and there, on the floor, on the study corner tables, and half-open over the railings...what a mess...what a problem!
Oh Glorious Gryffindor, how could I ever explain this?
I bit my lip, loathing myself more than I thought I ever could. The best, well safest, option which presented itself was to merely improvise.
"I was just, uh, reorganizing the books. Just as my master had ordered me to."