authorsnote: update time.
lemme just say - it is all gunna kick off! I'll leave it there...
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songrecs: way down we go - kaleo
The library as to be expected was stunning.
Wall after wall of books, wooden stacks and cases lining each wall, the spines without crack or bend, each and every one perfectly lined up, the gold lettering offering a peek at what was inside.
There were two tiers, the first they'd stepped into had chairs and tables, couches and sprays of flowers, circled by smaller cases, with glass fronts, books not pushed together but on display. The second tier had the many rows of books, the ceiling to floor bookshelves that held hundreds if not thousands of titles for her to choose from.
A chandelier over head lit the room, but so did the floating candles. A stand with a large tome on it stood to the side of the first tier, and she could see it was an inventory, one not need look but pick out a title and have it whisked to them. Several books floated in the air too, clamouring to be read, and her fingers itched at the sight of them.
The large windows offered a good view of the grounds, though as evening fell not much could be seen. One large window on the second tier had seating in front of it, Hermione knew if she lived here, she'd spend days lounging there, tearing through novel after novel, consuming as much knowledge as she could.
Every single part of the library was beautiful, offering her knowledge and wisdom, and somewhere so ideallic to consume it. She knew if she lived here, at Malfoy Manor, a place she'd never wanted to come, she'd surely set up camp in the library, for, she'd never want to leave.
It was only after several minutes (or what felt like several hours to her, of running her eyes over the stacks, the glass cabinets, the endless walls of knowledge), did Malfoy's cutting voice make him known.
"Are you going to keep gawping?" He said sardonically, sarcasm running purely through his veins, "Or shall we do what we came for?"
The glare she sent him might have been a touch soft, how could she muster anger in a room as perfect as this?
"I'm sure Potter and Weasley if they haven't already ran to McGonagall flapping will do so if you skip breakfast tomorrow" He drawled, and with a twinge she knew he was right; she knew they'd likely already been worrying about her, but would go into full on panic if she was gone tomorrow.
She just had to hope no sirens had been raised already, after all Malfoy was right, as much as she hated to admit it; they had come here for a reason.
And that reason was; answers.
After all, surely a place so filled with knowledge as this, so overflowing and beautiful, surely this place had to have what they sought? It had to.
Right?
Several hours later she was just starting to doubt that fact.
But she reasoned, as she leafed through her second very thick volume, they hadn't been reading for long, and had spent more time picking out only a few texts from the thousands, had plenty of time left, and so far, they'd gleaned more than they had at all in the Hogwarts Library.
That was something … it had to be.
But what they had gleaned had been barely enough.
They'd cosied themselves on two couches tucked away opposite one another in the corner on the second tier, both kicking their shoes off, Malfoy propping his socked feet on a pouf, she tucking hers covered in her tights underneath her. Her jumper was resting on her knees, Malfoy's slung over the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up, her tie loosened a touch, they looked relaxed, comfortable, a platter of sandwiches and cakes dropped off by the house elves, a pitcher of half empty pumpkin juice and two glasses. They'd sat in silence, sipping their drinks, reading their books, perhaps like two students wiling away an evening learning.
It could have been that, it would have been nice had it been that, but that was so far from the truth.
If you looked a little closer you could see the tension around Malfoy's jaw, his teeth clenched, you could see her hand not holding the book screwed into a fist at her skirt, could hear her sigh as she finished a chapter but immediately dove into the next, could see Malfoy roll his eyes at a useless passage before checking it again.
Two hours, two books each, and nothing much of interest, bar a few small things.
"It says here that though this area is seldom studied a few authors have started dedicated studies" Hermione had said forty minutes in, holding up the book even as Malfoy didn't look up, "And those should have finished by now"
"Well then find those" Was all he had offered, and she had nodded, adding the the two books detailing those studied onto her ever growing pile before diving back in. "It confirms here that the more time we spend together the less difficult it will be to be apart" Malfoy clicked his tongue at that, "And that as we know the more time spent apart the more it will hurt"
Hermione nodded, remembering that awful first time, stumbling into the library, everything hurting, aching, burning her heart pounding, hands shaking, brain on fire – she couldn't go through that again, and she knew Malfoy couldn't either.
"Something here about a feedback circle" Hermione said, lip between her teeth as she spoke, "About how you'll feel if I'm in pain and vice versa, though they say you'll feel it more" That was it, both books so far had, had this, a brief reference to this, an obscure fact and nothing more, she just had to hope the other books would yield more.
"Goody" Malfoy said with a roll of his eyes, "Found anything else?"
She shook her head and felt panic roll up her stomach; was this it? No, she remembered then, they had the dedicated books, surely those would hold more answers, and quickly she stood to her feet, not even bothering to slip on her shoes, they needed those books, not the useless volumes with a few bare sentences they were reading now.
"I'll grab them" She said and Malfoy just nodded before glancing at the time.
"It's almost 7, we should stay here, apparate back late 11ish, sneak in from there" He said before turning back to his book.
"That doesn't seem like enough time" She said, chewing on her lip again, "We've barely gotten anywhere"
"Like I said if we stay overnight no doubt McGonagall will send out a full search party for you" Malfoy said shaking his head this time. "And I don't fancy explaining what I'm doing with Gryffindors golden girl"
She shot him a feeble glare before she let out a sigh and went down the stairs. The handy guide made it easy to find the two books, and they were thick, hundreds of pages. Once she had both in her arms she struggled back up the stairs before dumping them on the table, though she didn't sit, her mind still on the issue that they did not have enough time.
Not at all really, never enough time.
"What Granger?" Malfoy asked, placing his current book down before reaching for the top study entitled 'The Werewolf and Mate Problem: B A Hardwick' which she swore she saw him glare at before he cracked it open, the faint scent of dust emerging from it, clearly it had been a while.
That surprised her though, she was sure if what had happened to Malfoy had happened to her over summer she would have tore apart the library for every book possible, or perhaps it was because he hadn't known about what would happen with her at that point, or maybe he just hadn't wanted to confront it.
The latter she understood, a part of her, a huge part just wished she didn't know herself, that she could walk away from this; she wanted that, and badly, and yet she knew, even as she sat herself down and reached for the second book, 'A Werewolf's Soul – An Indepth Study' H J Viril' it too dusty when opened, though she didn't start reading.
"We don't have enough time" She said with a small sigh, leaning forward, elbows on the book, as Malfoy let out his own sigh before he turned his gaze on her, his grey eyes, so light almost blue, piercing into her brown.
This time they weren't threaded with gold, and she found the odd urge of missing that.
"No" He said, "So what do you suggest?" The fact he didn't mock her further made her realise he felt the same here; they needed time to research, compare notes, write everything down, unravel all of this.
Because the reality was, it was looking as though this was permanent, no way to end it, and though Hermione knew she had many more tears to cry over that fact, she also knew herself. She was logical, sometimes to a fault, she was practical, and right now tears over a lost future and being stuck with Malfoy of all people would get her nowhere. Right now what they needed was answers, and the way Malfoy kept his gaze on her, not rolling his eyes or turning away, told her he felt the same.
She supposed she was lucky to be paired with someone not emotional, Malfoy was as practical as her, ruthlessly so, and he too wanted to know not only what this was, the effects, but also how to deal with it.
They could hardly carry on as they were, stumbling around blind, desperately needing each other, in pain when apart, strange outbursts from them both, her fainting spells, Malfoy's unexpected defence. They needed to know what else (if anything, and god she hoped not), was coming, they needed to be prepared, and they needed to figure out how to live with it.
Soul-bond; it spoke to something deep, something embedded within them. They couldn't ignore it, and though Hermione had absolutely 0 plans to embrace it, she knew she needed to at least understand it.
Lest it tear them apart, inside out.
It was already starting to.
"We need to come back here" She said, "How long are your parents in Paris?"
"Two weeks more" He offered, "They always spend time their when I go to school" He said, and she nodded, that made things easier, a reprieve perhaps.
It's Thursday she knows, though she just realises it, her days have been bleeding together, defined by two things; the pain when she's away from Malfoy, the relief when she's not. She hasn't' felt normal since this all happened, though that did seem like a tall ask. How did one feel normal when they were told they were soul-bonded to a werewolf, who was also their childhood bully, racist and prejudiced against her to boot?
Malfoy may not be able to call her 'Mudblood' anymore without making her faint, but she knew he still thought it.
Just perhaps now he saw himself as less-than too, the idea left a bad taste in her mouth, and it was only sheer willpower that caused her to shove it aside, ignore it, for the moment, and focus on the larger issue at hand.
"We do this every night over the weekend, longer if we have to" She said, "Sneak out, read here, sneak back in" She nodded, "We need to know the truth"
She could see even before Malfoy nodded, he had no resistance; for once they were on the same side, both desperate for answers, an understanding to all of this. The same side, the first and likely only time.
Malfoy may not be able to hurt her, and many of the things he'd said had caught her breath in her throat, but she knows it's just this bond, he still hates her, still sees her as a second class citizen. She still sees him as a bully, prejudiced and awful as well. There is no common ground, nothing to tie them beyond this bond.
It almost feels like a cruel joke from whatever exists beyond them, a cruel joke to bond them together, when literally anyone else would be better.
But then, life always was cruel.
"The full moons next week" He said, "It will be hard, you stay in your dorm, I'll be in the Shack, we have six days until then, and we better find some answers first"
Hermione nodded then, realising; this was the first full moon since they'd bonded. Not enough time, felt like an understatement now, and she quickly re-opened the book, not enough time, and yet she could make use of that she had.
They read for hours, leafing through the introductory chapters that told them basically nothing. There was promise of course, but the first chapters just spoke of method, how they had managed to gain access to a werewolf and his 'mate' as the books called it (and she'd glared at the book each time that word had come up), how they'd recorded and gathered their evidence, almost like an essay, but the introduction took hours to go through, the print tiny, the books huge, tall and thick.
And yet there was no skipping, Malfoy had tried and it had zipped shut, doing it again and again before he'd turned to the page he'd been on with a grumble. Clearly these authors intended for their works to be read in full, slog as it was.
But they slogged on, they had no choice.
It almost felt like a tease, another cruel joke, as the clock hit 11 she'd just reached the second section, finishing 'The Introduction' to reach, 'The Evidence'. Part of her wanted to read through the night, stay here until the full moon and get the answers they needed, she was tempted to do so, hugely.
Yet, she knew Harry and Ron would be worried; the last they'd seen her she'd ran out of class to follow Malfoy after he'd shockingly defended her. She'd been gone all day. She knew she'd have some explaining to do, and she just had to hope they hadn't gone to a teacher. Hermione knew though if she did stay out overnight, they definitely would.
"We need to go" She said, and Malfoy nodded, offering a sarcastic smirk to her.
"Just when it was getting good" He marked his place as she had hers, and left the books where they were, no one else was coming here, and Hermione appreciated being able to come back as things had been left, to pick right up, as they would in 24 hours' time, earlier even, her fingers itched at the thought.
She never thought she'd be dying to stay in or get back to Malfoy Manor, and yet here she was.
"So, tomorrow?" She asked as they left the library, Hermione not even noticing she'd left her scarf on the sofa, and Malfoy his jumper, not that it mattered.
"Tomorrow" Malfoy said with a nod, leading her through the house, darker now, the lights dimmed, it surprisingly didn't look sinister, Hermione had expected that, skulking corridors, evil artefacts, and yet Narcissa Malfoy apparently had none of that, her home was just as beautiful at night as it was during the day.
Not cosy, never cosy, and it didn't have the homeliness of her home, with her Mothers apron hung on a hook, her Fathers next to it, her books stacked in a haphazard pile, the recycling waiting to be taken out.
She felt a pang for home then, the home that was gone. As part of packing her parents off she'd sold her childhood home, squirrelling half the money away in her account, half to her parents. She hadn't been able to risk keeping it, and yet it had near killed her to do. The money would be put to good use, a nest egg for her parents in Australia, and enough money for her to get her own place if she needed to.
If they never came back, if she couldn't bring them back, for one reason or another.
God, she missed them, and she knew her expression had fallen. Malfoy said nothing, for which she was thankful, she didn't want to explain her feelings, not to him, not now.
Instead, she just followed him, took his hand as he apparated them back to Hogsmeade, and then dropped it as they made their way to the grounds, the Whomping Willow, and the Castle.
The front door was open, as it was only 12 and the Prefects ran patrols until 1. They snuck inside, wands not lit despite the darkness, creeping on tiptoes until they reached the stairs, and the fork; him to the Slytherin dungeons, her to Gryffindor tower.
It was lucky they weren't caught, but then they'd both known which patrols to avoid, especially as Malfoy was supposed to be doing one tonight but hadn't shown up; the perks of being a prefect.
"Tomorrow" She said in a whisper and he rolled his eyes before nodding.
"We'll meet after dinner, Greenhouse 4" She nodded then, though left out the rolling of her eyes, before she went to turn away.
"Granger" Her last name on his lips stopped her, and she turned around, eyebrow raised. "I'll show you the first edition of Numerology and Grammatica before the weekends out"
An odd bit of kindness, and she nodded, her expression lifting just a touch; unexpected, and yet with seemingly no ulterior motive, how strange.
"Goodnight, Malfoy" Was all she responded, for she wasn't sure what else to say.
"Night Granger" And then he turned away first, and she followed his lead, making her way up the stairs to her home, her only home now, and yet it didn't feel like it, as every step that took her away from Malfoy felt strained, like she was going in the wrong direction.
Answers couldn't come soon enough.
It was three flights of stairs later she made it to the common room, tired now, ready for bed ahead of more research tomorrow. She had a pile of homework to do, and no doubt tons of questions from Harry and Ron, Flitwick and Slughorn to answer come morning. For now, she just wanted to climb into bed.
She'd need to come up with excuses; Professors were easy when you were normally a teacher's pet, a lie about feeling unwell and all would be forgiven, one of the perks of being a stellar student for so many years, she could slip a little now.
Once she'd be panicking over missing a few classes, lying to a few teachers, for now she didn't have the energy, especially when she had much bigger things to fret about. Besides, she knew she could pass all of her classes, and the pile of homework and studying she promised to dedicate herself to tomorrow would make up for some absences.
No, as she approached the Fat Lady, it was the boys she was worried about explaining this to, especially after what they'd witnessed with Malfoy. How did she explain this? She knew she'd have to lie; she could hardly tell them the truth.
She tried to imagine how that conversation would go, trying to explain to her two best friends, one who probably hated Malfoy more than she ever had, what had happened to her, what that meant going forward, and what she intended to do over the weekend … she couldn't even begin to envision that conversation, though she knew it would involve a lot of yelling.
So more lies it was; which she hated. She hated lying to her best friends, and she only soothed her conscious by promising she'd tell them one day … when she understood it herself.
Whenever that might be, she hoped soon, but she wasn't so confident in that.
"Niffler" She said to the Fat Lady who grumbled at being woken up but swung open anyway, Hermione was just thankful the portraits couldn't tell on them for missing curfew.
And yet, there were two people who could tell, as apparently her night and morning to think up a good excuse were gone, as she stepped inside, and found both Harry and Ron, sat in armchairs by the fire, though neither cosy or relaxed, arms crossed, waiting for her to come back.
Fuck.
"Hermione" It was Harry who spoke, rising to his feet, which broke her heart a touch, Harry was like a brother to her, the last true family, alongside Ron, she had left, how could she lie to him? She knew she had to, and to Ron, who was now stood up behind Harry too; her boys, the only family she had left, worried she knew, and yet she couldn't.
She couldn't tell them, not knowing they wouldn't, couldn't accept it, she barely could herself, and yet she had to, she didn't have the luxury of being mad about it as they would be.
Practical, logical, ruthless, a few qualities she and Malfoy shared, and needed now, more than ever.
"We're worried about you" Ron said, and Harry nodded furiously. She almost smiled, imagining they'd rehearsed this with each other, almost like an intervention. She probably needed one, though what she needed help with, they couldn't fix, she couldn't, and it killed her.
"Just tell us what's going on" Harry said then, taking a step forward, and Hermione felt she might cry, "Please"
"We want to help" Ron backed him up again, both coming to stand in front of her.
She should have known this would happen. She'd felt dirty pulling out the excuse of her parents and yet it hadn't worked, she wasn't' surprised in hindsight. Harry and Ron knew her better than anyone, they knew when something else was going on with her, as it was.
And yet that didn't change things. She wanted more than nothing to break down, let the words spill out of her, tell them the truth, vent and cry as they tried to help, tried to offer comfort, Harry his arm around her shoulder, Ron a pat on the back. That was what she wanted, more than anything.
But the past few weeks had clearly told her; she didn't get what she wanted, not anymore.
Lie it was.
sooo thoughts?
ooof it's time to get the boys involved, but it won't be that simple...
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speak soon