Hermione had begged, or more, bribed Cho to take Rose after dinner, so Hermione could steal an hour or so at the library before it closed.
She moved quickly through the tall rows of bookcases and shelves; numbers written down on a scrap of paper. It had been shoved under her door when she had awoken that morning. The note said simply,
'To H.G.
Try the library,
Case 436
Shelf 7
Place 94
I trust you will find it illuminating.'
It was not signed and Hermione didn't recognize the hand. Perhaps because whoever had left the note had charmed it. It didn't matter, for Hermione knew something waited for her there; she wasn't sure what but…something…
As she approached the giant shelf, merely one shelf away from the Restricted Section, she placed her torch down on the desk beside.
"This is case 436….shelf seven….?"
She was thinking aloud. Looking above her, she saw the seventh shelf. Turning over her shoulder she ran back two rows, where she saw a book ladder waiting. She brought it over and propped it against case 436.
She gingerly climbed the rungs of the ladder; she had always been afraid of heights, and now, even though she was a mere metre above the floor, it still gave her pause. She shook her head.
"Ok, concentrate….place 94…"
Her hands ran over spines until they finally settled on an older, dusty book that looked like it hadn't been touched in years.
"Magical Laws of Azkaban, Complete Volumes…?"
She pulled the book from the shelf, needing to first loop her left elbow around the ladder side for balance. The book was ridiculously heavy. She climbed back down slowly, clutching the dusty book to her chest.
She placed it on the desk and the book magically opened, its pages flipping themselves and glowing, illuminating the heavy tome, until it settled open nearly in half, Chapter 152.
'Petitioning Release of Prisoners'
Hermione read the title of the chapter silently to herself, her mouth moving as she read.
'Family and loved ones of prisoners may petition the Council that the prisoner be released, fully, or in part. Petitions may be granted based on several factors, '1. Severity of Crimes, 2. Good Behaviour, 3. Familial Obligations.' Spouses may also petition the Council for visits of marital favours.'
Hermione blushed from her cheeks to her ankles when she read that.
"Good Godric!", she choked out, to no one but herself.
Marital favours?
As in…
Hermione put the book down gently as she thought about Scabior, and blushed all the more, surprised her body, which had felt so numb lately, had suddenly felt a sharp, white hot burst of desire.
'I suppose I'm not dead inside, after all', she though ruefully.
But she and Scabior were not married. She frowned.
Perhaps I can petition under Familial Obligations?
Just then a noise startled her. She looked up, immediately grabbing her wand and muttering, "Lumos"!
The area around her illuminated.
Nothing. No one.
"Hello?," she said, her pulse speeding up.
"Hello?," she said again. "Anyone here?".
She felt the hairs at the back of her neck prickle and she suddenly had the frightening thought that she was not alone here in the Library.
"I've got my wand!," she called into the empty stacks.
No answer.
After a few moments, having combed through nearly all of the back stacks of the Library, and satisfied she was alone, she turned back to the book.
'Petitions are heard the first Friday of the month at ten in the morning. Petitions may also be heard during prisoner sentencing. A written statement, to be submitted for consideration, is not required, but preferred. In the written statement, the Petitioner must list the reasons they do not believe the Prisoner is a threat to themselves and/or society at large, and why they would like the Prisoner to be released. The Courts take this information into account when making their decision. All decisions are final, however the Petitioner has the option to make the same request annually.'
Hermione looked up. She suddenly felt a burst of energy. She could do this. Maybe it would work, and maybe it wouldn't, but she could try. She didn't have very much time, but she wasn't going to be sitting, waiting at the mercy of her circumstances for long. She was going to take whatever control she could, and try to do her best.
Cradling the book to her as gently as Rose, and with a newfound sense of purpose, she strode out of the Library and back to her flat. As she crossed the threshold, another thought had jumped into her mind.
Who had left the note?
Scabior had been awakened at what he guessed was midnight by a banging at his door. As his eyes jerked open, he noticed his cell was bathed in light.
Lucius Malfoy, in robes, torch in hand, stood at his open cell door.
Open cell door.
Scabior propped himself up at the corner of his cot. He looked around, confused. Was he dreaming?
"I assure you, I am quite real," Lucius said, as if reading his mind.
"How…did you…get…?"
"I assume you are looking for a more elegant explanation than sheer bribery, though I assure you, sheer bribery works quite well under certain circumstances."
Scabior stood, pushing himself from bed, tired and dirty. Lucius held up a handkerchief to his nose.
"Oh, no. This won't do at all."
He brought his cane to the heavy cell door and knocked twice.
Scabior heard a shuffling and then a guard approach.
"Taggart, this man must be allowed to bathe." He looked Scabior up and down again. "And shave."
"This man is wanted by numerous-"
Lucius held out a small coin purse, tossing it up and catching it so the guard could hear the weight of the coins.
"I'm certain we could make an exception, just this once, Mister Malfoy."
"That's what I thought you'd say. Thank you, Taggart, you are both a scholar and a gentleman. That will be all."
The guard shuffled away as Lucius strode over to Scabior.
"Mister Malfoy."
"I prefer my associates to call me Lucius."
"Lucius."
Lucius looked Scabior up and down once more before stepping back, striding purposefully around the cell.
"I read that you were back here."
"Yeah. Well, I suppose that was to be expected."
"And…you have a daughter now."
"Yeh."
"Children are such a blessing. I quite feared having a child myself, however in my station, children are a natural obligation one is expected to fulfill."
Scabior was tired.
"What's the favor you want me for?"
Lucius turned and fixed his icy blue stare on Scabior.
"Tell me, what would you do to see your daughter and your…."
"Careful," Scabior started, grinding his teeth, knowing that Lucius was probably going to call Hermione any manner of disgusting name for dirty blood. His own views had changed somewhat in the last few months.
"…Votre petite amie?"
"I'd do just about anything, I reckon."
The corner of Lucius's mouth raised in a small smile.
"I was hoping you'd say that. Come, my friend. We have much to discuss."
Lucius clapped a hand over Scabior's shoulders and led him out of the cell towards his own.