Books & Dragons

Books and Dragons

With it being Christmas break, the school was virtually empty, except for a few students and teachers. She had spent most of her time either reading, or with Neville and Harry; the Malfoys had gone to their estates for the holidays and had only come back that day. As she usually did during the evening, she was curled up on the couch with a paperback-paranormal romance in one hand, and a cup of raspberry-mint tea in the other. A knock on the door pulled her attention away from the tense scene. Damn it! And he was just about to reveal the origin of the Langley ghost!

With a wave of her hand, the wards dropped, allowing entrance. Hermione was surprised to see Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy carrying massive volumes, with even more floating behind them—there had to be at least thirty books.

Lucius smiled sadly at her apparent confusion. “They are only a miniscule part of Severus’ impressive library,” he told her. “He was certain that he would not survive the war and when he realized that Dumbledore was not going to make it to the end, he changed his will.”

Hermione could sense more than hear the slight hesitation in the older Malfoy’s voice as he watched his wife stack the books against the wall.

“Since he no longer has any living relatives,” Lucius continued, “he wanted his library to go to someone he knew would enjoy and respect the works he’d collected.” His wife had settled the remaining, floating volumes on the floor, and had moved to stand beside him. “In his will, he stated that if you ever returned to Hogwarts, he wished you to have the books in his library.”

Hermione noticed for the first time that the Slytherin witch was holding a massive, leather-bound book. It looked old and there were cracks all through the dried leather; she could not help but be curious about it. Older texts always held an interest for her.

“Severus said that you would love this,” Narcissa said softly as she passed the volume to the Gryffindor witch, whose eyes were shining brightly as she took the book. “It’s a first edition of—”

“Hogwarts, a History!”

The book was a few pages short of enormous, and it was incredibly heavy. All she could do was stare at the ancient tome in wonder and turn it over in her hands. “Professor Snape left me all his books?”

Lucius nodded. “And his estate—”

“His what?”

“Along with other certain assets that are in his vault.”

Hermione was instantly curious and mystified by this. “His account? But aren’t accounts closed after a person’s death?”

“Yes,” Lucius replied with a sad smile. “But his account was, or is, to remain open, until you have retrieved and transferred all of the possessions Severus left to you.” He turned to leave, but stopped. “It says in the will that you can collect the inheritance at the time of your choosing.”

Hermione could only stammer her gratitude as Narcissa kissed her cheek and left with her husband. When she was alone, she dazedly placed Hogwarts, A History on the coffee table and turned to the volumes on the floor. Texts such as Asiatic Anti-Venoms or Important Modern Magical Discoveries did not surprise her, but his collections of Transfiguration and Ancient Runes books did. The large volumes of Dragons of Great Britain and Ireland and Dragons In-depth were also a bit of a surprise, but the most stunning was the books on the Dark Arts.

She knew that as a Death Eater he would have known a lot about the Dark Arts, but some of the books he’d owned shocked her to the core. Among some of the worst were Tormentum: An In-depth Study of Torture, Fatum Incantare, a book of fatal curses, Tomus Morte, a book that focused solely on death, and Malus Magice: An In-depth Study of the Dark Arts.

Her first reaction to the heavy tomes was of horror. When she suddenly realized that the last three she’d looked at had been written by the same man, Perseus Evans, she had a sudden urge to read them. She recoiled, frightened.

Perseus Evans.

For some reason the name rang a bell inside her mind, yet she could not recall ever seeing it and that set off a warning. She made a mental note to ask the Malfoys about the name later and decided to take a walk to soothe her tense nerves. When she stepped into the open stone hall, the blast of cold air that hit her face stung and brought tears to her eyes, which she instinctively blinked back. However, the chill seemed to drive away the dark fog that had settled in her brain.

As she gazed around, she realized that she was facing the Forbidden Forest, and as a thin mist seeped through the edges of the dark trees, she decided to venture through. She could kill two birds with one stone while taking a walk, because not only would the breeze break through her distressing thoughts, but then she would be able to pick some ingredients that were more difficult to obtain. Like Moonspine, a plant that was small, with white blooms that grew on the curvy stem, making it look very much like a person’s spine. It, like a few other species that grew in the forest, could only be picked under the light of a full moon.

She entered the black woods without using light from her wand, since any artificial light could affect some of the plants. And until her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she knew it would be difficult to see, so she navigated her way through the deep forest with great care.

Of course, it wasn’t like she needed to watch out for anyone or anything. With Voldemort’s death and the capture of the Death Eaters, the Forbidden Forest was much safer; she had learned from McGonagall that when half of their clan had perished in the war, the centaurs left Hogwarts to find a new home. She also knew that Grawp was on the opposite side of the forest with Hagrid, and would be completely alone.

She spent nearly half and hour as she trekked through the woods, looking for Black Lace, Devil’s Shoe Strings, and Dragon’s Breath, before making her way to the clearing where she knew the Moonspine flowers grew; she had seen the open area back in her fifth year and remembered it clearly. Indeed, the open space was nearly an acre, but the dark forest seemed to close around the land, making it seem much smaller.

As she knelt to brush away the snow and pluck the first sprout by the roots, she could not help but feel that someone was watching her. With a rueful shake of her head, she turned her attention back to the ground. This just goes to prove that you read way too many mystery and thriller novels. But after about ten minutes of pulling up a few of the plants, a shadow passed above her. Had it not been for the whoosh sound, she would have thought it was merely a cloud drifting across the moon. However, the unmistakable sound of beating wings told her it was not just a cloud.

Hermione’s head snapped upward. She saw nothing.

Don’t worry about it. You’re still stressed, and you are just letting your mind run away with you!

Pointing her wand at a nearby fallen leaf, she Transfigured it into a small basket and dumped the flowers she had collected inside of it. Then, slipping her wand back into her pocket, she plunged her fingers back into the soft earth, digging the Moonspine out of the ground. She was not really aware of the time and after a while she began to worry that she might have been out to long. Dropping the last flower into the basket, she pushed herself to her feet, whirling around at the sudden noise behind her.

All she found was empty, open space. There was nothing there, and while she hated to admit it, she was becoming nervous and wanted to get back to the school as soon as possible.

Turning back around to retrieve the basket of ingredients, she stopped short, terror coursing through her veins. She opened her mouth to scream, but any noise she might have made would have been drowned out by the screeching roar.

*