As I got ready the next morning, I took an increased interest in precision, ensuring every layer, brush, line, and placement of makeup was perfect. I didn't wear much, just enough to highlight my best features, but today it was flawless.
I moved onto my hair, using my wand to configure an intricate chignon bun, before heading into my closet to get dressed.
I was proud of my posh collection of professional workwear, a perfect combination of muggle and witch fashion, but today, I struggled to find anything to wear.
Stupid Malfoy. Why'd he always have to dress so…
I disregarded the thought and settled on an outfit: blouse, pencil skirt, and one of my nicer pairs of pointed-toe pumps.
I looked at the neat arrangement of blazers and robes and then down at my old, reliable, beaded bag.
I'd packed the essentials, but if the last two days had been any indication, the likelihood of me crashing at the Manor was high. Even with Malfoy's help, we had an impossible task ahead of us.
I packed a few more things, just in case.
When I got to the Manor, I went straight to the library, not bothering to look for Malfoy.
Despite it being a rainy day, the library was anything but dreary. It welcomed me with open arms. I spun around absentmindedly on my way down the aisle, imagining the magic, history, and knowledge this still unexplored library held.
My good mood seemed indestructible until the desk and the bookshelf behind came into view.
The blood-sealed secret entrance to the hidden library of journals I'd left propped open the day before was closed.
Instantly, my brows furrowed, and my jaw clenched. Malfoy .
I threw my bag down on the desk, drew my wand, and then whirled around to search for the meddling bastard.
"Don't get your wand in a knot, Granger; it's far too early for that." He drawled as he strutted toward me.
How long has he been in here?
"Open the door, and I won't."
He wore no robes, no suit jacket, no tie; instead, he wore a perfectly fitted white button down with the sleeves rolled up and black slacks. Casual wear by Malfoy's standards.
"Patience," he continued as he stepped around me and sat on the edge of the desk. "There are a few…details I'd like to discuss before this goes any further."
"Details?! Like what?" I spat back sharply, crossing my arms.
The amused chuckle and smirk he gave me in response had me readying my wand.
"Like, what precisely is going to happen when you're finished here."
Confused, I lowered my wand slightly, but not by much.
"What?"
"It's quite simple, really, especially since you've already proven yourself capable of keeping my secrets. So far." He stepped away from the desk and approached me, twirling his wand in his fingers. "But given how hard I've worked to reinvent the Malfoy name, I'm going to need a bit more of a commitment from you."
His eyes locked on mine, now dark and serious, no longer amused. Then, in the span of one breath, he stilled his wand and slid the tip of it down my forearm.
"Absolutely not!" I exclaimed, stepping back. "An unbreakable vow? Are you mad?"
"What's your price then, Granger? Hmm?"
"For what? My silence? That's not even something I can give! At a bare minimum, I leave here right now and have to report that an unidentified, hereditary curse killed your father and that you and Lucius' final journal proved the existence of that curse. I can do my best to manage what information gets to the news outlets, but I'm not - I'm not finished here." I managed, breathless with frustration.
"I'm not asking you to leave. I'm telling y-"
"No, you're not telling me anything; this is still an official Ministry investigation, one that you are required to assist with. You agreed, just yesterday, to help me!"
"Exactly, I agreed to help you ! Meaning, I'm doing you and your little department a favor. I don't think you have a bloody chance in hell of figuring out what this curse is, let alone breaking it, so I benefit nothing from this. I do, however, stand to lose everything." He closed the gap between us again, and I struggled to fill my lungs. "There is a reason this room is hidden, warded with blood, a thousand years worth of Malfoy family secrets protected at all costs - that kind of information getting out, after everything I've done to separate my name from its history, it's worse than any curse."
His chest heaved as he towered over me, eyes glowering. Slowly, understanding seeped into my veins.
"I won't lie—" I started, but he cut me off.
"Then you can leav—"
"No, Malfoy, li—"
"What's it going to take then? Do you want money? Name the amount, Granger!"
Heat flushed my face as I struggled to get one word in. If he would just let me fucking speak!
"How dare you, I don't want your money! I—"
He barked out a laugh before continuing.
"This library, then? Every book in here, have it, have them all, it's yours!"
I froze then, shocked. In a span of mere seconds, I imagined it, this unlimited access to it all.
With a shake of my head and a flick of my wand, I cast a silencing charm, shutting him up. Then, I disarmed him.
"That's better." I breathed as he started yelling at me with his eyes and vigorous hand movements. "If you'd let me finish speaking earlier, I wouldn't have had to do that, and you wouldn't have had to stoop down to bribing a Ministry official. Although, I'm sure that kind of thing comes naturally to Malfoys."
He snatched at his wand in my hand, but I quickly stepped back and pointed mine at him.
"If questioned, I will not lie to my boss, the Minister for Magic, about any of this. However, regardless of whether or not I solve the mystery of your curse, I will refrain from mentioning your family's journal collection."
His eyebrows shot up expectantly, as if to incredulously ask 'And?'
"And I will refrain from sharing any details of your family's history, no matter how slimy or sordid, unless they directly relate to the curse."
Considering what I'd said, he seemed to take a breath and relax a tick.
"And since you so graciously offered," I continued, causing his eyes to widen curiously, "I would like the library. Not to keep for myself but to access at leisure for the foreseeable future. Honestly, Malfoy, if I prove you wrong and actually break your curse…I think direct floo access from my flat to the library fireplace would be a lovely prize. What do you think?"
With another flick of my wand, I removed the silencing charm.
"Silence me again, Granger, and I will burn every single one of your precious books," He challenged, aggressively taking back his wand. "But you have a deal."
"Lovely," I sighed, turning away from him and moving back toward the desk. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to open the door, we've wasted a lot of valuable time."
He took his time, gliding around the desk, making a small cut in his finger, smearing the blood across the inscription on the shelf's edge.
"I really hope you're prepared for the massive disappointment this foolish plan of yours will bring." Malfoy's voice droned as the door revealed itself, and we entered the secret library hidden within the walls.
"It's kind of you to be so concerned about my feelings," I retorted sarcastically, "but let me assure you, this is just another day at work, and you are simply another assignment. I'll be just fine when it's over, especially with all those books to keep me entertained. Speaking of, I hope you're ready to start reading."
"You can't be serious. There are nearly ten centuries of journals in here, and you expect us to read until we find one that says, 'Today, I was hit with a curse that will affect all of my bloodline.'"
"Considering these journals belong to your relatives, I can only imagine the innumerable levels of impropriety we will discover while reading, but yes. We must read as much as possible, take notes, and compare our findings. Unless you have a better idea?"
"Yeah, actually, I do."
Surprised, I turned back to face him. "Let's hear it then."
"We read the final journal of each Malfoy heir. That should narrow things down a bit."
Despite the very narrow walkway of the hidden library's top floor, I managed to pace back and forth, considering.
"Not bad, but also not enough. Your father's last journal talked about the curse and the impact it had on him, but it did not, as it could not, describe how he actually died. We need to collect that information for each heir until we find a start. Potentially, there is a pattern to it. Also, several of your ancestors likely did their own research into the curse, and we need to review their findings as well."
"So then we read the final journal and the next heir's journal from the same time period." I narrowed my eyes at him, indicating that he was almost there. "And… if anything of interest appears, we'll dig deeper. Will that satisfy you, Granger?"
"Yes, actually, I think that's a splendid plan. It narrows our reading down to somewhere between 40-100 journals. Ideally less. Ideally, one of those has information we can use because we have less than three weeks to do it."
"And if I change my mind about assisting with your little pet project?"
I glared at him.
"Well, I'm sure you'd have your reasons, and I'd happily let you explain those reasons and all of this," I crooned, motioning to all of the journals, "To The Daily Prophet , Witch Weekly , The Quibbler , whatever news outlets the French favor, and of course the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"First bribery, now blackmail, Granger? I'm impressed." He teased with amusement. "Although, I can't say I'm surprised. It seems to be par for the course for most wishing to move up the ranks at the Ministry if my memory serves me well."
I stopped my pacing and turned to face him in the corner where he leaned cockily.
"Keep making my time here difficult, and all agreements are off."
"Well then, where are my manners? By all means, Granger, take your shoes off and make yourself at home. Everything the Manor has to offer is yours." He exclaimed sarcastically, brushing past me to return to the library proper. "Trixie!"
"That's not what–" I tried as I followed him, but the POP of apparition and the appearance of the ancient house elf interrupted.
"Miss Granger will be our guest for the next couple of weeks; please make sure she is well taken care of."
"That's not what I meant, Malfoy, and you know it!"
Trixie nodded and disapparated, to my disappointment.
"Okay, enough of this; we need to get to work," I stated, returning to the secret library. "One of us should start with the most recent Malfoy and work their way back, and the other should start with the oldest and work forward. I've already dusted and organized the journals on this floor and the one below so—."
"I'll start with the most recent. Abraxus' and Father's should be interesting." He mused.
Of course, he'd bloody picked the area I'd already prepared.
"Fine then," I huffed, rolling up my sleeves. "I'll start with the oldest."
It was going to be a long day, I thought to myself as I started down the rickety spiral staircase; down to the bottom, I went.
I'd spiraled down four more floors, the temperature dropping measurably with every few steps before I reached the bottom. Underneath the Manor, the space was dark and eerie, and everything was covered in thick webs and dust. I looked at the full shelves covering every wall and then back up the spiral staircase, imagining that this hidden room was spelled to keep expanding into the ground infinitely to accommodate the countless journals of the Malfoy descendants.
I lifted my wand and began casting protective enchantments, to be followed by my scans, just in case.
"Are you fucking joking?! We've been through this…" Malfoy yelled from above.
I didn't realize how well voices must carry up and down the spiral until Malfoy's voice sounded, followed by his quick descending steps.
I paused my spells as he trekked down to meet me, impatiently awaiting whatever time-wasting nonsense he was bringing with him. I'd been at the Manor for over an hour and had yet to read a single journal.
"If you pass out down here from over-exertion, no one is ever going to find you, and I'd be sentenced to bloody Azkaban for life." He huffed with annoyance. "Merlin, it's filthy. Move over, I'll do the protective spells."
I stifled a laugh as I stepped to the side. The space was essentially a long, narrow hallway, and the oxygen seemed to decrease as he joined me.
We worked in tandem, slowly completing a full inspection of the bottom floor.
"Any chance you'll help me with the dusting?" I asked when we finished.
His only response was a grimace and a roll of his eyes before he began unbuttoning his shirt.
I froze as he manually undid each button and removed his shirt, revealing his muscled chest.
I hadn't noticed the scars last time, trying so hard not to look, but they were there. Hidden among the well-defined abs and pectorals were two, no, three long scar lines, like he'd been sliced, crisscrossed from shoulder to navel, and across his stomach.
It'd been over ten years; they'd healed remarkably, considering the thin white lines were the only trace of a spell that came close to killing him in our 6th year.
He moved away, either ignoring or not noticing my inadvertent gawking as he hung his shirt on the railing of the stairs.
"I'll start over here," he sighed reluctantly, and so we began.
We worked in a somewhat comfortable silence for a couple of hours, stopped for lunch, then continued. I stayed busy, focused, determined not to be distracted by him, convinced it was just another sly trick to annoy me. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.
By the time I'd identified and cleaned my first two journals, it was dinner time. I opted to eat some snacks I'd packed, eager to start reading, finally.
Xxx
I woke up with a start to the sounds of thunder rumbling. My eyes flickered open just as flashes of lightning lit up the large library.
I sat up on the couch in front of the fire, barely noticing the ancient and fragile journal falling to the floor as I took in my surroundings. I vaguely remembered Malfoy saying he was going to bed…how long ago was that? What time was it?
Thunder sounded again, followed by lightning, and I made a quick decision to find the nearest bedroom. I collected the journal I'd fallen asleep reading and sat it on the table for tomorrow. Then, lighting my wand, I grabbed my beaded bag, exited the library, and took the South Wing staircase down one floor.
I all but ran into the first bedroom I saw and closed the door behind me as the storm outside unleashed a vicious thunderclap.
I barely changed into pajamas before jumping into the small bed and under the covers.
In my haste, I'd inadvertently settled into the smallest, windowless bedroom on the property, but it was perfect on a night like this.
It didn't take me long to drift back to sleep.