HP: I got Transmigrated into the World of Magic

Chapter 150: Chapter 150: Night!



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When the coast is clear, she steps out and walks briskly down the hall I recognize from the tour which leads toward her father's study.

She opens the door and heads straight to the bookcase that appears to be filled such that each row has identical books all the way across.

Holding a finger to her lips to indicate that we should stay silent, she partially pulls on one from each of the top three rows, and the bookcase swings outward.

How very cloak-and-dagger! I certainly never expected to see anything like this is real life.

Inside there are far fewer bookcases than I might have thought, but that makes sense considering their extensive regular library.

How many tomes could possibly need to be hidden like this? In fact, many of the bookshelves contain items that are rather frightening in appearance...and probably function, too.

Obviously I don't recognize most of them, but I shudder at a jar of quills with blood red feathers that I assume are blood quills.

Some of the items look vaguely familiar, and I realize I've probably seen some similar items in the headmaster's office.

I'm jolted from my observations by a tapping on my shoulder, and I turn to see a pair of intense ice-blue eyes on mine.

She slightly nods her head to the side, pointing at a bookcase.

I nod back with the understanding that I'm supposed to check that one, and I note that Hermione is already rifling through something.

I follow her example and lose myself in the process of pulling books and journals and flipping through them.

The journals are the worst, since that kind of information could live anywhere.

I decide it would be quickest to tackle the books first, though many of them don't even have a table of contents, let alone an index, which would be ideal for this particular task.

Blowing out a frustrated breath at the clash between the danger of getting caught and the sluggish progress of digging through tomes, I lean back and take a better look at the covers, hoping that perhaps the darkest, most evil-looking books might represent the content.

The first one is a bust, but just as I pull the second one I hear a throat clear behind me.

"Daphne, I do hope there is an adequate explanation for this." The piercing gaze of Lord Greengrass matched the soft and deadly voice perfectly.

~~~~~

"I think it best that our guests return to Hogwarts."

Even now, two nights later on the eve of spring term, the memory of that command still sends a cold terror shooting down my spine, keeping me awake at night until I can chase it away with happier memories.

Trying to feed it to the Flame and banish it to the Void works, but once I fall asleep I lose it, and it's either Lord Greengrass or Lord Voldemort delivering the command.

I don't know how long I keep this up before I think I hear the door to our dorm click shut.

It's one of those sounds where I can't tell if it was real, or if it happened when I fell asleep and it woke me up.

I strain to hear more, but the only time it's quiet is between Ron's snores. When the curtains around my bed start to move, magic leaps to my fingers.

It quickly dies down, however, when the curtains part to reveal a pale face surrounded by an extra bushy mess of hair.

"William," Hermione whispers.

I lever myself up onto an elbow, taking a deep breath to calm my nerves. "Are you okay?"

She bites her lip and shakes her head, then her eyes flicker down to the bed, and I understand immediately.

Though in the faint light I can't see the dark circles under her eyes, I know that she's been sleeping just as poorly as I have.

That surprised me at first considering she's seen much scarier things than I have, but being caught in a library trying to find information about dark rituals must be one of her worst nightmares.

I never asked her, but she probably dreams of being tossed into Azkaban just like I do.

So I lift up my covers and scoot over to the far edge of the bed. She gives me an embarrassed and nervous half-smile, then climbs into bed and mirrors my position up on an elbow. "Um, I don't want to...I mean, I just wanted to..."

"Shh, I understand, Hermione. I can't sleep either. Come on." I lay down and hold my arms out to her, but she lays down on the opposite side of the bed with her face toward me.

"Harry still doesn't seem to be affected," she says.

"I had assumed it was because he deals with much scarier things than an angry father, plus he was hidden so he didn't get the full brunt of the glare. Actually I'm surprised you're having the same issue I am, considering some of the things you've seen."

Her top shoulder droops, then she fidgets with the pillowcase a moment before speaking. "We might have been so close to finding something..."

I sigh. "Maybe, but maybe not. We'll see Daph tomorrow and find out what she could get out of her father."

She gives me a half smile. "You still think she's going to get anything but trouble for inviting us in there."

"Oh, he won't tell her anything, but..."

"...but she'll learn just as much from what he doesn't say," Hermione finishes for me. "So you've said. Won't he be ready for that, though?"

"So you've said," I counter. "No sense in continuing to argue when we'll find out what happened tomorrow."

"But what if...what if he tells the headmaster?" She shudders when she speaks, leading me to think I was right about her nightmares…

Though they probably also feature intense disappointment on the faces of the headmaster, the deputy headmistress, her parents...

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