Room of Forgotten Truths
This room holds secrets that you may not want to see, But if you seek the truth, then you must enter willingly, Only those who are humble and can forgive their enemies, Will find comfort in this place where wand-bound magic cannot be
The room itself is the only power that can change your fate, It can erase your memories or reveal what you hate, Only silence can shield you from the room's harsh glare, So enter with a peaceful mind or beware of the price you'll pay
Plate removed from the door in 1809 to stop curious eyes.
Tucked away in a secluded corner, adjoining the corridor of the Slytherin dungeons and close to the office of Argus Filch, lies a chamber that time seems to have forgotten. Within this chamber, runes of ancient origin lay awake, but untouched for over a century. The chamber's entrance, a formidable wooden door, has remained locked for the most part.
Once, a group of boys, while crafting a map, stumbled upon this hidden room. They managed to unlock the door but mistook the chamber for an unused classroom. Oblivious to the room's true nature, they marked it on their map, never realising its unique properties. This chamber, shrouded in mystery, would never reveal its occupants or surrender its secrets to those outside its walls. It remains a silent guardian of tales untold, its secrets locked away just as securely as its heavy wooden door.
In a time long past, this location served a unique purpose - it was a place where truth was sought from quarrelling students. However, the runes that were supposed to reveal this truth were perpetually at odds, leading to unresolved disputes. The moment the students stepped outside, their memories of the events within the room would vanish. They could re-enter the room and transcribe their conversations onto parchment, but this did nothing to restore their lost memories.
The room had an unusual property - any contracts made within its confines were irrevocably binding. This led to numerous accusations of forgery over the years, as individuals sought to exploit this characteristic. Eventually, the chamber's credibility was called into question. Deemed ineffective and more trouble than it was worth, the room was sealed off. Time stood still within its walls, not even allowing dust to accumulate. It remains a forgotten relic of a bygone era.
Hogwarts September 1996
Hermione Granger had long grown frustrated with the lack of private spaces to study in the school, and so, sighing in frustration, had caved and asked Harry if she could borrow the map to search for somewhere. She was curious when she saw the door, realising its location would be perfect. It may have been close to the dungeons, but it was in a little hallway past Filches office, and she figured no Slytherin would venture there.
She waved her wand to unlock the door and saw the room was bare beside the softly glowing runes on the walls. There were no windows and no light source, but somehow the room was lit and there were no shadows. The room was also pleasantly warm, with no obvious heat source. Moving forward, she could see the rune for truth was the most prominent in the room. Happily, she moved into the centre of the room and reached into her bag, where she had everything she could ever need. She hadn't had a chance to tell her friends about her expandable bag yet, but she figured there was plenty of time for that.
She pulled out a thick blanket and a few cushions before sitting and pulling out all the books she was sure she was going to need. She sighed happily as she lay back in her little haven, and then pulled a book towards her and held it up to read. She had been reading for about ten minutes when the door opened and a familiar boy in Slytherin robes and white-blonde hair came flying through it, slamming it as he did. He stayed pressed against the wood, facing it and breathing hard, obviously upset about something.
Hermione's heart was racing in fear, remembering Harry's insistence that he was a Death Eater now and knowing there was no other way out. So, with a slight hesitation, she pulled her wand out to aim at him. He finally realised someone else was in the room when her feet scrambled on the hard stone.
His grey eyes darted around the room worriedly for a moment before settling back on me with an angry scowl.
"What the hell are you doing here, Granger?" He asked, and I could see it was supposed to be angry, but he just seemed tired and aggravated.
"Studying," I said while never lowering my wand. His eyes dropped to the blanket and all my books. Funnily enough, his checks went pink, and he looked away from me, not commenting.
"What's with the runes?" he said, ignoring my wand and stepping closer to a wall next to the door. I took a step further back.
"I don't know. They were already here," I answered him.
"This group means desire," he drawled, pointing at one. He turned and looked at my blanket and suddenly went pink again before looking back at the wall. I had forgotten that he was also in ancient runes. I tried really hard not to pay attention to the Slytherins, but he had been really quiet in class so far this year. Not that that meant much. We had only been back a week.
"Yes, I noticed," I agreed easily. "This grouping over here, though, is for secrecy, and another over there is for hidden things, I think." He walked over to the other wall, still ignoring my wand pointed at him.
"No, it is for forgetting. Observe this here," he said, pointing at a rune that changed the whole thing. I could have kicked myself for missing it, but I was alone in a room with Draco Malfoy, and I couldn't say my wits were at their best.
"And every wall and even the ceiling is covered in the runes for truth, making for a very complicated ward system if that is what this is," I said a bit hesitantly.
"I don't even know," he said, while he started to rub his neck as if he had a kink in it.
"Are you sore?" I asked out loud and could have kicked myself. I had no idea why that came out of my mouth. He looked at me with a little smirk but nodded.
"Stress, I think," he answered and then frowned. "Are you going to keep pointing that at me?" he asked as he leaned against the wall, looking far too comfortable.
"Yes," I said at once, and he nodded as if he knew that was what I was going to say.
"Smart," he said, and then frowned again. He pushed off the wall all at once, and I took a hurried step back. I really didn't want to have to stun him, but I would if I needed to. He didn't approach me, though he went back to the door and tried to open it.
"What is happening?" I asked as I saw him struggle with the latch.
"The latch is lifting, but the door appears to be stuck, and I really don't want to be trapped in here with you," he said with frustration.
"Right back at you," I said with an offended huff. "Honestly, anyone would think mud-bloods come with cooties," I thought, and then realised that was out loud when he burst out into laughter.
"I can't believe you just used that word, and I have no idea what cooties are. Do you have them?" he asked with an arched eyebrow, amusement written all over his face. I rolled my eyes and lowered my hand. My arm was starting to ache. I didn't put the wand away, though.
"No, I don't. It is a made-up condition that little Muggle boys seem to think they can catch from the girls," I explained for some asinine reason.
"Oh, so like, Pox-rot. I swear I caught that from Pansy when I was five. Cried for an hour, convinced I was going to die," he said with a laugh, then frowned again. I frowned too. "What is happening?" he asked, but he was looking at the walls with fear, and I must admit to feeling a little fear myself. I knew things I didn't want Malfoy to know, and I was sure that he was thinking the same thing. In an instant, we were both at the door, trying to yank it open. I realised the futility of that action before he did and stepped back, raising my wand again. He snorted when he turned and saw it.
"I could stun you before you had a chance to pull yours out," I said. His eyes were on the blanket again, and he snorted a laugh.
"I have no doubt," he said, and looked at me wryly, but his cheeks were pink again.
"Honestly! Boys are disgusting," I said, knowing very well what he was finding amusing.
"And girls are different?" he asked.
"Yes," I answered indignantly, and was surprised when he shrugged.
"Pity," he said and dropped to the ground, picking up a book.
"What are you doing?" I asked in annoyance.
"Well, it appears we are going to be in here for a while, so I am going to read," he answered, lying back on my cushions and getting comfortable on my blanket. I huffed in annoyance and went to sit against a wall, not taking my eyes or my wand off him.
"Harry will find us," I said confidently.
"Good. On. Scarhead," he said dryly, even as he flipped a page lazily.
"You're not afraid of what he would do?" I asked with curiosity.
"Put me out of my misery, perhaps," he replied, sounding unconcerned, and then scowled. "Stop talking to me, Granger; I am certain I am not the only one with things to hide."
"You're the only one who has said anything interesting so far," I said, then clapped my free hand over my mouth. That had not come out as I had intended. He gave me a condescending look and then went back to reading.
Half an hour later, we heard a click from the door, but when nothing further happened, I got up to check. The latch lifted just as easily as before, but now the door swung open as if it had never been stuck. I wasted no time and left, forgetting for the moment, all my books and the blanket.
Once I was back at Filches office, I looked around in confusion and wondered what I was doing here. I heard the bell chime to announce dinner and so made my way to the Great Hall, missing the scowl I was receiving from a familiar Slytherin who was speculating on what I had been doing near Filches office.
The next morning, Hermione was beside herself with worry when she couldn't find her books. She was actually growling as she searched her bag, which had both Ron and Harry laughing at her. Honestly, she loved them both, but they had the compassion of gnats sometimes.
"What are you doing?" Harry asked.
"I can't find my books," I replied, tipping everything out onto the floor. Their eyes growing large at seeing everything that came out of it.
"Blimey! How did you do that?" Ron exclaimed.
"Expansion Charm. I will teach it to you if you like," I offered, distractedly missing Harry's nod and Ron rolling his blue eyes.
"Maybe you left them in that room yesterday," Harry suggested, and for a second I looked at him with no comprehension.
"What room?" Ron asked distractedly as he played with a piece of the nearby chessboard.
"Mione' used the map yesterday to find a room to study in," Harry told him.
"Godric's balls, Mi', how many places do you need to study?" Ron swore.
"Language," I said automatically, even as I packed everything back away. I didn't remember going to the room, but it couldn't hurt to look. "Thank you, Harry. See you two later," I said, even as I started out the door.
As soon as I entered the room, I saw my things, and my memories came back, confusing me. I left the door open, but as soon as I took a step away to retrieve everything, it closed on its own, and much like yesterday, I couldn't open it.
I stood there dumbly, not sure what to do. I didn't think there was any point in studying if I couldn't remember it, but I didn't want to just do nothing. I put the books and everything else back in my bag and then moved around the room, studying the rune schemes. They should have made sense, and in a way they did. The room was obviously used to settle disputes and get truths, but some of it didn't seem to fit, and I had no idea why someone would add them.
I had been in the room about twenty minutes when the door opened, and a scowling Malfoy entered with his wand raised.
"What the hell are you doing here, Granger?" He demanded at wand point, and this time my wand was in its holster. He had barely finished those words when I saw his eyes widen and everything from the day before poured back into his brain. He spun around to try catch the door, but it was too late.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I had missing books and couldn't for the life of me remember where I had left them," I answered when he looked back at me with annoyance. He gave a grunt of sound and put his wand away.
"I spotted you down here yesterday and suspected you were spying or something. Then I saw you again and attempted to outwait you, but I heard Filch coming. I didn't fancy getting caught loitering in the corridors and thought I would come in here and catch you doing something intriguing," he explained, looking incredibly annoyed. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair, making it stand on end, making for a much more intimate picture than he usually portrayed.
"Cute," I mumbled to myself, and then waved my hand dismissively when he gave me a curious look.
"So, what are you doing?" He asked, coming over to look at the wall.
"I was trying to make sense of these runes, but they seem to be a jumbled mess that contradict each other. I don't even recognise some of them, but they are glowing like the rest, so they must be ones we haven't got to yet," I explained, but frowned, knowing that couldn't be true. He looked too and nodded in agreement.
"What are we going to do for the next half hour?" He drawled in a speculative tone, punctuating his words with another irritated grunt.
"What?" I asked.
"Sometimes I say things out loud when I only mean to think them," he explained.
"I've noticed it happening too," I reluctantly answered.
"It's not safe to talk," he said, sounding sad and angry about that.
"Well, what else would you suggest? Mad passionate kissing?" I said with annoyed sarcasm, making him raise an eyebrow.
"Think about kissing me often, do you, Granger?" He mocked.
"Of course not!" I denied at once and was slightly horrified by the idea.
"Definitely been a fantasy of mine," he admitted, and then flushed such a deep red that he resembled a Weasley. I was also embarrassed but also appalled because butterflies set off in my belly. I just didn't think boys thought of me that way. I had had a crush on Ron for years now, and even Victor hadn't tried to kiss me when he took me to the ball.
"I… no… you…" I stammered.
"Spit it out, Granger; it can't be that difficult to believe," he said with exasperation, and started pacing the room.
"Yes, it can!" I denied. "You hate me. Mud-blood, remember?" I said, thumping myself angrily on the chest.
"I remember," he said angrily, and kept pacing. "Didn't stop the fantasies," he said, then turned and punched the wall. "Stop talking, you idiot!" he screamed, and I jumped in fright and scrambled to finally pull my wand. It was pointing at him again when he turned to look at me. "I wasn't referring to you; I'm well aware you're the most intelligent individual in this institution." My eyes widened in surprise at that declaration, and looked down to see his hand bleeding.
"Do you want me to heal it?" I offered softly. He looked down at his wand hand and winced.
"Thank you," he said, holding it out to me but stayed pressed against the wall. I cautiously moved forward and put my wand away. I reached into my bag and pulled out a healing salve for surface wounds, then kept going until I could slide one of my hands under his sore one. I rubbed some of the salve over his red, irritated knuckles and then let go. I was surprised by the tingles that were left in my hands where his skin had touched mine.
"Shall we just sit quietly and wait this out?" I asked. He nodded, obviously working on not talking. I went back to my wall across from him and retrieved my wand, holding it in my lap with my bag over my shoulder. The time moved slowly, but when we heard the click, it was Malfoy that moved towards it this time. The door opened easily for him.
"If it works like yesterday, it should stay unlocked now until we are both out. Just allow me a few minutes head start so I don't think you are spying on Slytherins again," he said.
"Alright," I agreed, and watched as he left. I did feel a small jolt of worry when the door shut again, but when I approached it a few minutes later, it opened easily. Once again, when I reached Filches office, I had no idea what I was doing there.
Almost a week passed before Hermione found herself back in the room. It was her birthday, and she had just wanted a few minutes of peace from her well-meaning friends and their over-the-top well wishes, presents, and pranks sent courtesy of the twins. It really was all fun, but she just wanted a few minutes to read her letter from home and open the present from her parents.
She opened the little box and smiled at the beautiful gold oval locket on the heavy chain, but she gasped in surprise when she opened it and saw the two moving pictures. One was a recent one of her parents, who were smiling and waving at her. The other was years old and was of the two of them holding a baby she knew to be herself. They were gazing at each other and down at the baby with so much love that it brought tears to her eyes. But the thing that touched her the most about this gift was that her parents had to have gone to Diagon Alley, and she knew her mother especially felt uncomfortable around that much magic.
She was just wiping tears from her eyes when the door opened, and Malfoy said, "What the hell are you doing here, Granger?" She actually laughed as she saw the memories flow back into his face.
"If I could, I would have a t-shirt made up for you with that as your catchphrase," she told him with amusement, pulling the necklace over her head easily and the letter in her bag. She knew now she would have to re-read it later, but she couldn't bear to put the necklace back away. She held it in her hands as if she could feel her parents there with her.
He grunted and then said, "Were you crying?" He looked annoyed to have asked but actually looked interested in the answer as he went to sit at his own piece of wall.
"Only in a good way," she said with a smile, and looked down at the locket in her hands.
"Present from the Weasel and Scarhead?" he asked snottily. She chose to ignore the snark.
"My parents. It's my birthday," she said with a happy smile.
"Oh… Well… Happy birthday, I guess. Sixteen is an important one for girls," he said randomly.
"How so?" I asked.
He looked at me with confusion and then said, as if it should be obvious, "You can be presented to society." I couldn't help it, I laughed at the notion of my parents presenting me to society and declaring I was ready to start courting. "Why is that amusing?" Draco asked, his tone laced with irritation.
"Most Muggles don't do that, and anyway, it's my seventeenth birthday," I told him. His eyes widened a bit at that.
"Well, that is even more significant. You're an adult in the magical world," he said.
"I suppose that is true," I agreed but didn't really feel all grown up. We were quiet again for a time when I asked, "What brought you back to the room?"
"Two nights ago, I needed some space from my friends. Pansy isn't handling my declaration of independence well and refuses to accept its authenticity due to our existing contract. I ducked down this corridor when I saw her coming and thought I had found this room."
"Once I remembered everything, I pulled a piece of parchment from my bag and wrote myself a note. I wasn't sure it would work, so I merely wrote 'quiet classroom by Filches office.' I thought I was barmy when I saw it in my bag this morning but decided I would check it out since it was in my handwriting and I couldn't detect any spells on it," he explained in the longest speech I had even heard from him.
I was quiet because I didn't know what the correct response would be to that. We had never been friends, and I could quite honestly say that I disliked Pansy, but I did understand the need for a quiet place to study. I took a piece of parchment from my bag and wrote myself a note about the room, just to see if it would really work for now.
"What are you doing?" he asked as I wrote.
"Writing myself a note, like you did," I told him.
"Well stop. We can't both use it," he said in irritation.
"I found it first," I told him. He went to refute that, but then snapped his jaw shut. Obviously, the room wasn't going to let him lie.
"I would prefer," he said cautiously, "that you study somewhere else."
"No," I said simply, and his eyes seemed to spit fire at me.
"Do you want me to make you?" He asked but made no move towards his wand.
"Are you sure you are faster?" I tensed but didn't grab mine either.
"Absolutely," he said, and his face looked serious. I didn't want to cave on this, but I also knew some fights were not worth it.
"Fine," I said, pulling the parchment back out of my bag and threw it over to him. He picked it up and looked at my handwriting before putting it in his bag.
"Thank you. I really need some space this year to…" he clamped a hand over his mouth and shook his head violently to stop himself from talking. It looked painful, and being the sucker I was for helping distressed people, I spoke just to try to save him from it.
"What is your favourite colour?" His movements stopped so suddenly it was almost as violent as the action.
"Green," he said, lowering his hand and looking back at me, but then looked away with a slight flush and said, "but I am also partial to the brown leaves turn in the middle of the forest once they have fallen to the ground." I didn't know why that was embarrassing, but I thought it was a better idea to stay silent now. He was the first out of the room again when the door clicked open, and I went gratefully a few minutes later.
Hogwarts October 1996
It was weeks later that found Hermione back in the room with the runes. She hadn't meant to be there, but she had really needed a place to hide from Cormac McLaggen, who seemed to always show up when she was alone these days, and he was just so vile. It was just luck that had her recognising the little corridor that she had spotted at the beginning of term but never seemed to manage to enter.
A sigh of annoyance sounded just as I entered, followed by, "What the hell are you doing here, Granger?" I flushed as I remembered my promise, but it was too late; the door closed itself.
"Dodging a particularly vile boy, if you must know," I huffed as I took in the changes to the room. He had a desk and chair to one side, but it seemed he had emulated my idea of the blanket and cushions, but his looked exceedingly decadent.
"Finally became wise to the Weasel, have you?" He smirked as he sat up and put his book aside.
"Hardly," I said with a roll of my eyes at the childish name calling and went to sit at the desk. "Cormac McLaggen. Do you know him?"
"Not really. I know of his family of course but we do not travel in the same circles," he replied.
"A point in his favour, then. He's not a Death Eater," I replied, and then gasped as I realised what I had just said out loud. He just studied my face, bit his lip, and turned away. An impulse wanted me to say sorry, but I couldn't say what was not true in here. I might have been sorry to say it out loud, but I wasn't sorry for the implied accusation.
"How are you finding classes this year?" I asked hesitantly after an uncomfortably long pause.
He shrugged but said, "They are harder, but I have a project that is more important this year." He winced and then glared at me as if it were my fault he said that.
"I won't ask, even if I am curious," I told him. He gave a sharp nod at that.
"Listen, I have been pondering on something, and I thought you had a right to be informed," he said, looking uncomfortable.
"Oh?" I asked, intrigued that he would want me to know anything.
"Do you recall the first Potions class of the year?" he asked.
"Yes?" I replied, even more curious now.
"Slughorn mentioned the name Dagworth-Granger; it might be worth your while to look into it someday," he said, as if that information meant nothing to him.
"Why would I do that?" I asked.
"I'm not as ignorant as you might believe, Granger!" he spat, a sneer twisting his features. "And despite all the pureblood nonsense, it's common knowledge that Muggle-borns are often descended from squibs," he added, his tone laced with the typical Malfoy contempt.
"Well, I don't know that, so obviously not everybody knows," I snapped back with annoyance. "I am so sick of the unnecessary divide in the magical world. Everything would be so much easier if everybody would just talk to each other."
"Really think so, do you? Would you have been able to accept a whole new culture without question and live like we purebloods do?" he asked condescendingly.
"Maybe not," I shot back angrily, "but being given the chance would have been better than where we are now."
"Possibly," he said, putting his book and a whole heap of parchment back in his bag.
"Do you truly think it is all nonsense?" I asked, remembering what else he had said.
"Yes," then he shook his head and said, "No." He then threw his hands in the air and said, "Hell, I don't even know anymore. I used to believe it all, but I also believed everything my father said at one time." He sounded sad by the end. I said nothing about his father, but was glad he was in Azkaban, where he belonged. "Let's talk about something else before we say things that could get someone in trouble," he said. I thought he meant himself, but thankfully I didn't say it out loud.
"Like what?" I asked, wishing it was already time for the door to open. Having anything close to pleasant conversations with Draco Malfoy was disconcerting, to say the least.
"You have seemed a bit put out with Potter lately? Anything you can share?" He asked.
"I am simply offended that he is using some unknown person's corrections to improve his own work in potions," I replied, and I was glad it had come out like that and not anything that could have hurt Harry.
"How very Slytherin of him, and Granger, I am disappointed by your Hufflepuff sense of fair play," he said with a chuckle.
"I doubt jealousy has anything to do with being a Hufflepuff," I replied at once, and it made him laugh. "You have a nice laugh; you should do it more often," I said, then clapped my hands over my mouth in mortification. He grinned, but it didn't reach his eyes, and he shook his head ruefully.
"Not much to laugh about lately, but once I laughed plenty," he admitted. I opened my mouth to respond, but he spoke over me and said, "Don't ask." I bit my lip with a frown, then took a deep breath and wished I was wearing a watch right now. I looked up to see him studying my face, and then he smirked cheekily. "Confess something to me, Granger?" he said, and I gasped in outrage as I felt the room's magic affect me.
"I Confunded Cormac so Ron could get on the Quidditch team," I said, and once again he laughed uproariously.
"Priceless, just priceless. I wish I had that information even just a year ago. I could have used it to blackmail you," he said, laughing in amusement still.
"And now?" I asked angrily. He shrugged.
"I don't have the time nor the inclination."
"Are you playing this year?" I asked.
"No," he replied at once, looking back down at his bag with a frown. I thought about asking, but he had already said he had a project that was taking all his time. I was just wondering if I should ask about that when we heard the door release.
"Well, off you go," he said condescendingly, looking back up at me. I thought about being childish and poking my tongue out at him, but I just didn't have it in me to do that sort of thing. With all my dignity intact, I made my way from the room, forgetting about it again in moments, but this time with less confusion as I was joined by Lavender Brown, who was coming from the girl's beauty club. She had been trying to get me to join, but I knew that was only because she wanted information on Ron, and I refused to talk about my friends behind their backs like that.
The next day, Hermione was back in the room again, and it was because once again she had been looking for somewhere quiet to study and had forgotten her promise not to be there. She was surprised to see the room decorated just as she would want it, well except for the colour, but she could get past that.
By the time the door was closed again, she was exasperated with the situation and so wrote herself a note explaining the room was for storage and no place to study. She laid it on the table when she spotted a piece of parchment sticking out from under one of the pillows. Going over to it she found that it was the first note she had written herself, but that Malfoy had written her name on it in the most beautiful penmanship she had ever seen. She was still looking down at it when the door opened.
"What the hell are you doing here, Granger? Do promises mean so little to you?" He asked as the door shut. I would have asked how he remembered, but he was holding a piece of parchment in his hand that I assumed told him.
"Actually, they do, and that is why I wrote myself a new note," I said, waving the parchment in my hand at the one on the table. He went over to the table to read what I had written and nodded at it, clearly satisfied. I rolled my eyes at the behaviour. "Why do you still have this?" I asked.
His eyes widened, and he looked appalled to admit, "I wanted it, and after you wrote it, I spent two days questioning my sanity, clueless about its origin. It has been here ever since, hiding beneath my pillow to remind me of you."
"I would ask if you are kidding," I said a bit flustered, "but as this room won't allow you to lie, I know you are serious." He scowled at me but didn't say anything. I held the parchment in my hand and honestly had no idea what to do with it. Finally, I decided to go back to the table and place it down with the other. I had been thinking hard about how to ask questions in this room and so finally said, "Are you able to tell me what you are working on?" He looked a bit panicked for a minute, but when nothing happened, he relaxed.
"No, and even if I could, I wouldn't want you to know," he confessed.
"Top secret and dark magic, is it?" I meant to be facetious.
"Yes," he said, and then screamed in fury and fear. I stood up in fright and pulled my wand out again in preparation to defend myself. Once again, we were faced with a moment of uncertainty. "You don't understand; no one understands," he screamed, taking a step closer to me, but he stopped when I raised my wand at him.
"I'm sure you are wrong," I said with a shaky voice.
"Stop coming here, Granger. Nothing good can come from this, and I really don't feel like adding you to my list this year," he said. I swallowed but had to ask.
"What does that mean?" I whispered.
"I have never wanted to kill anyone, but I will if I have to," he said, then pulled at his hair in frustration, letting out something that sounded like a cry of pain.
"I will too," I confessed. He looked at me strangely for a second, then went over to his bed of pillows.
"No more talking. I am done talking to you. Don't make me silence you," he said with a touch of his angry haughtiness back. I took a frustrated breath but remained silent. I absolutely agreed that nothing good could come from us speaking with each other. When the door opened, I picked up the note I had written myself today and left the other. I had no intention of being alone with him ever again.
Over the next week, I was so busy trying to track down information about the Half-Blood Prince in the library and around the school that I had no time to think about a strange room that I always intended to go to but for some reason, never got to. I was most aggravated when I could find no reference to the student that Harry now saw as his mentor.
"Mione, I am out of parchment. Can I take some from your bag?" Ron asked me as we were studying in the library one afternoon.
"Go ahead," I answered absently as I tried to calculate an Arithmancy structure without having other parts disappear on me like they were wont to do when a mistake was made.
"This piece only has something written on it about a storeroom. Mind if I erase it and use it?" he asked.
"Sure," I said, not wanting to lose concentration. It didn't help because in the next moment half my equation erased itself.
"Damn," I said in frustration, throwing down my quill.
"Language," Ron said to me, and then laughed when I scowled at him.
"Funny Ronald," I told him, not at all impressed.
"I thought so," he said, with a grin and a laugh that had my stomach clench, my crush being felt.
"Hi, Ron," Lavender said as she walked past our table and giggled when he grinned at her.
"Excuse me," I said, not wanting to see the flirting to come. I gathered all my things and went in search of somewhere to study quietly. A room that I never managed to get too flittered through my head, so I headed there with a determination to finally make use of it.
"Oh, bloody hell, not this again," Draco Malfoy said as I opened the door. I went to step out, but he stopped me by saying, "What the hell are you doing here, Granger?" But he sounded amused by the question. The tone had me turning back in confusion to see the strangest sight I had ever seen. He actually had a grin on his face that looked real, and it was directed at me. It made his face very attractive, but I dismissed that thought quickly.
"I was looking for somewhere to study," I said, finally taking a step into the room and seeing the strange groupings of runes on the walls. The door shut behind me even as the memories flowed back into me. "I am starting to feel like I have a split personality," I said, rubbing my temples at the headache that was setting in. "Why did you stop me? You could have had your precious space," I accused.
"I missed you," he said, and his eye widened. Then he quickly added, "I meant it was becoming strange not to see you here." I nodded and knew what he said was true. I sometimes did the same things, not saying what I meant at first, and it sounding stranger than what I intended.
"Fine!" I said, crossing my arms angrily as I marched across the room to sit at the table once again. "Since you have trapped me here for the next thirty minutes, tell me a secret. It doesn't have to be anything earth-shattering, but perhaps something interesting that you have done or discovered." He looked worried again for a moment, but I was fairly confident that as long as I was broad in my question and stated that he had the option not to answer, we would stay away from the more dangerous ones.
"I have finally figured out how to enter the Room of Requirement without having to blast a hole through a wall," he explained with a bit of amused embarrassment. I grinned at that.
"Yes, well, walking back and forth while thinking about what you want is definitely less destructive," I replied haughtily myself. He gave me a considering look, then averted his eyes, his cheeks flushing a faint pink as nodding his agreement. "Why don't you just study there?" I asked him.
"I prefer this room; it's more to my liking, and it's closer to my dorm," he said with a shrug.
"I suppose I could use it," I said speculatively now, wondering why I hadn't thought of it before. It was certainly closer to the Gryffindor common room.
"No, uh... no," he said again and then rubbed his neck uncomfortably.
"Why ever not? You have stated many times now that I am not welcome here, and once again I will point out that I found that room before you," I told him.
He seemed to search for an answer before settling on, "I was under the impression you were looking for somewhere that was unique to you, not part of your golden trio?"
"That may have been true, but then you laid claim to this room," I told him.
"I'll relinquish it," he declared hastily, making me narrow my eyes at him.
"Are you hiding something up there?" I demanded.
"Yes, but mostly just me…" he trailed off, and a pained expression started on his face again. I knew we were getting into dangerous territory.
"Ok, I'll take this room. Make a note," I said, pointing my finger imperiously at him, and then went to make one for myself. That is when it hit me that I had never actually looked at my last one, and that must have been the parchment I let Ron erase. "Just out of curiosity, how are you remembering to look at your notes?" I asked.
"Don't laugh, but I've taken to maintaining a dairy that I peruse daily," he told me.
"I don't laugh at people," I responded at once.
"I know, I'm sorry," he said, shocking me once again.
"You know?" I questioned.
"I may have been an arse to you all these years, Granger, but I do have eyes. I see how kind you are to people," he replied, and once again he looked like he wished he didn't but was becoming resigned to it.
"A diary. I wish I had thought of that, but considering what happened our second year, I am a bit leery of them," I said, also saying more than I had meant to out loud.
"What happened with a diary?" he asked with genuine confusion, and I frowned at him angrily.
"If we were in any other room but this one, I would accuse you of lying right now, but if you must know, your father gave a possessed diary to Ginny Weasley that almost killed her and set Tom Riddle free," I spat at him, every ounce of anger evident in my voice.
"I was so stupid back then," he said, thinking of her and the others who almost got killed. "I… I'm at a loss for words when it comes to my father." And it was true; he didn't. He loved his Father, but he was ashamed of all he had forced himself and his mother into.
"Are you sorry about any of it?" I asked.
"Yes… and no," he said, mulling over his words. "You must understand. I was brought up believing that Muggle-borns were so far beneath us and that Voldemort was supposed to be our hero that was going to liberate us from the repression of the lesser witches and wizards."
"Repression? You are joking, right?" I asked with incredulity. His raised eyebrow reminded me of the room we were in.
"Imagine the devastation I felt when I learnt that our saviour was nothing but a lying half-blood that was actually named Tom Riddle, and to make things worse, I am now as tied to him as my father is," he said, and then his eyes widened in alarm.
"I know," I whispered even as a bit of fear washed through me, wondering what his reaction would be.
"Enough talk for today, I believe," he said, sitting down and digging in his bag. "Let's just make notes to remind ourselves of our promises. Maybe remind yourself to get a diary… or something," he finished lamely. I just nodded and turned to do just that.