Harry Potter - Foresight Reawakened - part 3: in the library with Granger
Foresight Reawakened - in the library with Granger (3)
Notes: I love hp-lexicon dot org. It is a brilliant site, and a wonderful Harry Potter resource. If you have never gone there, I recommend it highly.
*
In hindsight he supposed it was foolish to answer the question, but he wasn’t thinking about that when he raised his hand and said, “Three sliced beetles,” with a scarcely-concealed smirk on his face. He noticed Hermione staring at him peculiarly afterwards, quill unconsciously tapping her lower lip. He sneered at her.
“Miss Granger, if you’re quite done making eyes at Mr Malfoy, perhaps you’d like to answer the next question?”
Draco tittered along with the rest of the class as her cheeks turned red and she faced forward. She answered correctly, of course-Granger always did-but the comment from Snape was enough to make Draco forget about his answer for the time being.
Granger, unfortunately, wasn’t hindered by Snape-or anyone-in the least.
*
The books weren’t there. Ancient Spells and Dark Artifacts was missing, as was Unforgivable Effects and all five volumes of Maeve’s Encyclopedia of Medical Magic. Draco grabbed The Dangers of Crucio! and left the Restricted Section with a scowl on his face.
His scowl deepened when he passed Hermione hunched over one of Maeve’s books, twin stacks of suspiciously familiar volumes on either side of her bushy head. “Granger,” Draco said dangerously, stopping over her shoulder.
“What?” she answered distractedly. “Could we talk later? I’m a bit busy.”
“Granger, I need those books.”
She looked up. “Oh.” From the look on her face, she hadn’t recognized Draco’s voice, which itself was cause for annoyance. One would think after five and a half years of school together, she’d know the voice of the only person with the honesty to call her ‘mudblood’ to her face. This would be remedied…after he’d used the books. “Well,” she was saying, “I’m using them right now. Perhaps later…” She slid the piles closer to her with her fingertips. It seemed an unconscious action, but Draco read the message all the same.
“You’re not using them all. You can only read one at a time. Give me the others.”
“I could say the same to you, Malfoy. Anyway, you’ve already got a book.” She inclined her head toward the book in Draco’s hand. She had a small smile on her face.
“Only because you took those. This one’s useless.” Draco barely caught the slight nod of Granger’s head, the pursing of her lips. Did she know? “Granger-”
”Look, you can use these.” She slid some books to the other side of her table. “I’ve gone through them already.”
“In other words, they don’t have what you’re looking for.” Draco peered at the open page before the Gryffindor Prefect. She belatedly tried to hide it with the sleeve of her robe, but the Crucio! written at the top in thick black ink was too large to hide completely, as was the picture at the bottom of a man writhing in pain. Draco put his book on the table and pulled out the chair beside Granger. Flipping it around and sitting in it backwards, Draco crossed his arms over the backrest and peered intently into Granger’s eyes. “What are you looking for, Granger?”
To her credit, Granger didn’t look the least bit guilty when she said, “What sort of things have you been seeing lately, Malfoy?” When he didn’t answer, she went right on in a hushed library tone, perfected over years doing nothing but studying to make others look bad. “I think you’re seeing things that haven’t happened yet. Yesterday in Potions you said the same thing you said that day Snape took you to his office, and that was months ago. Harry told me about what happened in the hospital wing, too. And, we overheard Pomfrey talking to Dumbledore about a dark ritual-”
“Dark ritual? When did you hear that?”
Madam Pince glared at him, as did Hermione. “Shh,” she admonished. “A dark ritual performed on you when you were eight or nine years old to make you stop seeing things.”
Draco’s mother had told him of it when she came to visit. What he wanted to know was why Pomfrey would be so foolish as to speak of it when nosey brats like Potter and his friends could overhear. They were always getting into things that weren’t their business.
Like Draco’s mouth, in the case of that disgusting not-yet from the hospital wing. Unconsciously, Draco shivered. That would never happen. Never. “So that’s what you’re looking for, then? It’s not your business, Granger, I’m not one of your little extra-credit school projects. Sod off.”
Draco reached for the book in front of Granger, but she grabbed his wrist. He wanted to hex her into next week, the insufferable bitch. She was almost as bad as Rita Skeeter, the effing liar who wrote the Azkaban “Expose” on Draco’s father, among other upstanding pureblood wizards wrongfully imprisoned for the Ministry fiasco Potter was responsible for. At least Granger only had her two stupid friends to talk to, though in many ways they were just as bad. “Let me help you,” Granger said softly.
“Why should I?” Draco whispered venomously. He didn’t need her help. He didn’t want it.
“I’ve done research like this before. I know what to look for: rituals Crucio counteracts, curses Crucio wakes from dormancy. Anything about wizards who see the future. I’ve looked through all those books, and they’re not what you’re looking for. Let me help.”
“Why do you want to help me? Finally accepted your place?”
Draco smirked when anger spotted Granger’s cheeks. She clenched her jaw and then said, “No more than you’ve accepted maturity. I’m not doing this from a sudden outpouring of goodwill toward you. Harry feels guilty-don’t ask me why-”
“What?”
*
It was the first time Granger had been kicked out of the library, and she wouldn’t shut up about it. “Did you have to shout?” she whined again. She’d been grousing since they walked out, hands empty, books quietly replaced on their proper shelves under the stern eye of Madam Pince, who was none too pleased with either of them for cluttering up her library with their little explosions of sound.
“I’ll shout if I want! Potter feels guilty? Next you’ll tell me Dumbledore is the Dark Lord in disguise-”
“Dark Lord?” Granger looked at Draco like he was vermin. “Your “Dark Lord” is a coward who makes others do his dirty work for him. He kills better people than himself because he’s afraid to die. He’s not a “Lord” at all!”
“Shut up, Granger, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t I? Then why is your father still in prison?”
Draco’s teeth involuntarily clenched. He wanted to hex her more than he ever had before. He nearly drew his wand, but uncurled his fist and said instead, “Potter doesn’t feel guilt.” He knew how to get her back. “He gets away with everything around here and is damn smug about it-you’d know, you’re usually helping him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He killed Cedric Diggory and didn’t feel guilty,” Draco sneered, “What’s a little Unforgivable to the worthless son of a Death Eater?”
Hermione pushed him. Hard. “Harry didn’t kill Cedric! That’s an awful lie and you know it!”
They were drawing a crowd, and not just because it was so uncommon to see Slytherins and Gryffindors willingly walking side-by-side. “Granger, this is hardly the place for-”
“Don’t say a word, Draco Malfoy. Not. Another. Word.” She stalked off down the hallway.
“No class,” Draco muttered, straightening his robe with rough jerks. He stalked off in the other direction, shoving smaller students out of the way with angry vigor. It annoyed him that he’d have to double back eventually; the direction Granger’d taken off in led to the dungeons, among other things. Draco didn’t want it to seem like he was chasing after her, though, so there was nothing for it. Draco slipped into an alcove, sat down behind one of the suits of armor that didn’t talk or move, and waited for the crowd to thin out so he could return home to Slytherin. Who did Granger think she was, talking about his father like she knew what she was on about? She didn’t know anything. Fucking Gryffindors, he thought as he waited. Always have their noses in someone else’s business.
~*~*~*~
Notes: I had intended for the two to get to studying in the library together, but that didn’t happen. They have lives of their own in my head, it seems. Whoops. Hehehe.
Notes: I love hp-lexicon dot org. It is a brilliant site, and a wonderful Harry Potter resource. If you have never gone there, I recommend it highly.
*
In hindsight he supposed it was foolish to answer the question, but he wasn’t thinking about that when he raised his hand and said, “Three sliced beetles,” with a scarcely-concealed smirk on his face. He noticed Hermione staring at him peculiarly afterwards, quill unconsciously tapping her lower lip. He sneered at her.
“Miss Granger, if you’re quite done making eyes at Mr Malfoy, perhaps you’d like to answer the next question?”
Draco tittered along with the rest of the class as her cheeks turned red and she faced forward. She answered correctly, of course-Granger always did-but the comment from Snape was enough to make Draco forget about his answer for the time being.
Granger, unfortunately, wasn’t hindered by Snape-or anyone-in the least.
*
The books weren’t there. Ancient Spells and Dark Artifacts was missing, as was Unforgivable Effects and all five volumes of Maeve’s Encyclopedia of Medical Magic. Draco grabbed The Dangers of Crucio! and left the Restricted Section with a scowl on his face.
His scowl deepened when he passed Hermione hunched over one of Maeve’s books, twin stacks of suspiciously familiar volumes on either side of her bushy head. “Granger,” Draco said dangerously, stopping over her shoulder.
“What?” she answered distractedly. “Could we talk later? I’m a bit busy.”
“Granger, I need those books.”
She looked up. “Oh.” From the look on her face, she hadn’t recognized Draco’s voice, which itself was cause for annoyance. One would think after five and a half years of school together, she’d know the voice of the only person with the honesty to call her ‘mudblood’ to her face. This would be remedied…after he’d used the books. “Well,” she was saying, “I’m using them right now. Perhaps later…” She slid the piles closer to her with her fingertips. It seemed an unconscious action, but Draco read the message all the same.
“You’re not using them all. You can only read one at a time. Give me the others.”
“I could say the same to you, Malfoy. Anyway, you’ve already got a book.” She inclined her head toward the book in Draco’s hand. She had a small smile on her face.
“Only because you took those. This one’s useless.” Draco barely caught the slight nod of Granger’s head, the pursing of her lips. Did she know? “Granger-”
”Look, you can use these.” She slid some books to the other side of her table. “I’ve gone through them already.”
“In other words, they don’t have what you’re looking for.” Draco peered at the open page before the Gryffindor Prefect. She belatedly tried to hide it with the sleeve of her robe, but the Crucio! written at the top in thick black ink was too large to hide completely, as was the picture at the bottom of a man writhing in pain. Draco put his book on the table and pulled out the chair beside Granger. Flipping it around and sitting in it backwards, Draco crossed his arms over the backrest and peered intently into Granger’s eyes. “What are you looking for, Granger?”
To her credit, Granger didn’t look the least bit guilty when she said, “What sort of things have you been seeing lately, Malfoy?” When he didn’t answer, she went right on in a hushed library tone, perfected over years doing nothing but studying to make others look bad. “I think you’re seeing things that haven’t happened yet. Yesterday in Potions you said the same thing you said that day Snape took you to his office, and that was months ago. Harry told me about what happened in the hospital wing, too. And, we overheard Pomfrey talking to Dumbledore about a dark ritual-”
“Dark ritual? When did you hear that?”
Madam Pince glared at him, as did Hermione. “Shh,” she admonished. “A dark ritual performed on you when you were eight or nine years old to make you stop seeing things.”
Draco’s mother had told him of it when she came to visit. What he wanted to know was why Pomfrey would be so foolish as to speak of it when nosey brats like Potter and his friends could overhear. They were always getting into things that weren’t their business.
Like Draco’s mouth, in the case of that disgusting not-yet from the hospital wing. Unconsciously, Draco shivered. That would never happen. Never. “So that’s what you’re looking for, then? It’s not your business, Granger, I’m not one of your little extra-credit school projects. Sod off.”
Draco reached for the book in front of Granger, but she grabbed his wrist. He wanted to hex her into next week, the insufferable bitch. She was almost as bad as Rita Skeeter, the effing liar who wrote the Azkaban “Expose” on Draco’s father, among other upstanding pureblood wizards wrongfully imprisoned for the Ministry fiasco Potter was responsible for. At least Granger only had her two stupid friends to talk to, though in many ways they were just as bad. “Let me help you,” Granger said softly.
“Why should I?” Draco whispered venomously. He didn’t need her help. He didn’t want it.
“I’ve done research like this before. I know what to look for: rituals Crucio counteracts, curses Crucio wakes from dormancy. Anything about wizards who see the future. I’ve looked through all those books, and they’re not what you’re looking for. Let me help.”
“Why do you want to help me? Finally accepted your place?”
Draco smirked when anger spotted Granger’s cheeks. She clenched her jaw and then said, “No more than you’ve accepted maturity. I’m not doing this from a sudden outpouring of goodwill toward you. Harry feels guilty-don’t ask me why-”
“What?”
*
It was the first time Granger had been kicked out of the library, and she wouldn’t shut up about it. “Did you have to shout?” she whined again. She’d been grousing since they walked out, hands empty, books quietly replaced on their proper shelves under the stern eye of Madam Pince, who was none too pleased with either of them for cluttering up her library with their little explosions of sound.
“I’ll shout if I want! Potter feels guilty? Next you’ll tell me Dumbledore is the Dark Lord in disguise-”
“Dark Lord?” Granger looked at Draco like he was vermin. “Your “Dark Lord” is a coward who makes others do his dirty work for him. He kills better people than himself because he’s afraid to die. He’s not a “Lord” at all!”
“Shut up, Granger, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, don’t I? Then why is your father still in prison?”
Draco’s teeth involuntarily clenched. He wanted to hex her more than he ever had before. He nearly drew his wand, but uncurled his fist and said instead, “Potter doesn’t feel guilt.” He knew how to get her back. “He gets away with everything around here and is damn smug about it-you’d know, you’re usually helping him.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“He killed Cedric Diggory and didn’t feel guilty,” Draco sneered, “What’s a little Unforgivable to the worthless son of a Death Eater?”
Hermione pushed him. Hard. “Harry didn’t kill Cedric! That’s an awful lie and you know it!”
They were drawing a crowd, and not just because it was so uncommon to see Slytherins and Gryffindors willingly walking side-by-side. “Granger, this is hardly the place for-”
“Don’t say a word, Draco Malfoy. Not. Another. Word.” She stalked off down the hallway.
“No class,” Draco muttered, straightening his robe with rough jerks. He stalked off in the other direction, shoving smaller students out of the way with angry vigor. It annoyed him that he’d have to double back eventually; the direction Granger’d taken off in led to the dungeons, among other things. Draco didn’t want it to seem like he was chasing after her, though, so there was nothing for it. Draco slipped into an alcove, sat down behind one of the suits of armor that didn’t talk or move, and waited for the crowd to thin out so he could return home to Slytherin. Who did Granger think she was, talking about his father like she knew what she was on about? She didn’t know anything. Fucking Gryffindors, he thought as he waited. Always have their noses in someone else’s business.
~*~*~*~
Notes: I had intended for the two to get to studying in the library together, but that didn’t happen. They have lives of their own in my head, it seems. Whoops. Hehehe.