Until dinner, absolutely nothing interesting happened, and classes went quite routinely. Even the al itself was unremarkable. Afterward, I headed to the library in proud solitude—the guys wanted to hang out in the common room.
There were few people within the walls of the abode of knowledge, and the vast majority of them belonged to the House of Ravens. By the way, I'm sure Madam Pince herself studied in Ravenclaw.
After greeting the librarian, I delved into the rows of bookshelves, looking for sothing special. However, I decided not to waste ti searching for "interesting" and just grab the "next" book on Charms—next in the left-to-right order on the shelf for that topic. With a large to in my hands, I was about to land at the first available table when I spotted Hermione at the other end of the corridor, barricaded behind a wall of books. She sat there, fenced off from the possible worries and problems of this world.
I headed straight for her. Sitting down at the table didn't evoke even a crumb of interest—my sister was too engrossed in whatever she was doing.
"Hi," I distracted Hermione, causing her to jerk her head up sharply, looking in my direction.
"Oh, hi, Hector," she smiled weakly. "I didn't notice you."
"So absorbed in reading? Is it at least interesting?"
"Not really. Just preparing material for... for Runes, for Arithmancy, for Charms, and here... A table for Muggle Studies."
"I get all that, but why the last one?"
Hermione looked at uncomprehendingly.
"I want to take O.W.L.s in my fifth year in absolutely all subjects."
"Why?"
My sister adjusted a lock of hair, checked if the other strands caught in her low ponytail were sitting well, and set aside her pen and notebook.
"In the last hundred and fifty years, only one Hogwarts student has passed exams in all subjects, and with 'Outstanding' at that. Barty Crouch. Only, it seems to that it's not the sa Barty Crouch who is currently the Head of the Departnt of International Magical Cooperation."
"Let's assu. I won't even ask why you draw such conclusions about Crouch. Why waste ti on Muggle Studies? I don't think you'd fail it just by flipping through the textbooks."
"It's simple. Only those who have officially studied the subject for at least a year are allowed to take the exam. Given that the schedule is linear this year, I decided to attend all subjects."
"And that's it?"
"And that's it," Hermione smiled wearily.
"But you shouldn't strain yourself like that. Spend more ti with friends, maybe."
At the word "friends," Hermione soured sowhat.
"Did sothing happen?"
"No, not exactly..."
"Does Ron still think your cat ate his rat? Hasn't it been found?"
"No," my sister shook her head, exhaling tiredly. "Since it disappeared on the train, it hasn't appeared again."
"Well, alright. What about Potter? You seem to be talking."
Hermione soured even more than before, but a mont later she straightened her back, looking at proudly and confidently.
"He was sent a broom. The most expensive one, can you imagine? Anonymously. I thought Sirius Black might have organized it, enchanting the broom so Harry would kill himself flying it. So Professor McGonagall took the broom for investigation."
"Hmm... Logical. Though I would have enchanted it with so deadly curse to trigger imdiately upon touch."
"Unwise," Hermione shook her head negatively. "Soone else could have touched it..."
"So?"
"What do you an 'so'?" she was indignant, albeit quietly, since we were sitting in the library, and Madam Pince's temper had long beco a byword. "Soone else touches it and dies, and the broom never reaches Harry because of it."
"Also logical. But there are delayed curses too; I've read about such things. One more, one less. I don't think for Black, who has at least twelve lives on his conscience and whose family has a rather specific fa, it would be any great loss or difference."
"Family? You know sothing about the Blacks?" Hermione leaned forward slightly.
"Quite a lot."
"But from where?"
"I've been reading and collecting information on any remotely significant families of Magical Britain, and the Isles in general, for quite a long ti now. The Blacks are considered a rather Dark family, Most Ancient and Noble. Not so long ago, the family numbered very many wizards, was almost the most nurous. But today, only a few of its mbers are alive. Narcissa Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Androda Tonks, Sirius Black—that's one generation. Last year was Lucretia Prewett's funeral, and there was a whole article in the Prophet about it—picking apart the bones of another dying family. And the year before last, Arcturus Black died—they didn't find him imdiately, information is extrely scarce."
"Hmm... I haven't co across those nas."
"You just read textbooks, while I've devoted a lot of ti to the world around us. By the way, Cedrella Weasley, the grandmother of the current Weasley generation, is still alive. So they are relatives of a sort. Although, the Blacks are related one way or another to very many families, linking them together as well."
"Really? For example?" Hermione seed interested, though, to be fair, my sister never refused any knowledge.
"Hmm... Bulstrode, Burke, Crabbe, Crouch, Flint, Gamp, Lestrange, Longbottom, Macmillan, Malfoy, Potter, Prewett, Rosier, Weasley, Yaxley... These are the families where at least soone is still alive at the mont."
"Incredible..." Hermione looked at with genuine surprise. "In half a year, you've learned more about the social part of the wizarding world than I have in two and a half."
"You're interested purely in magic, if I understood correctly."
"And history. Though lately, I have so doubts about the reliability of information in books."
"That's good. When there are doubts, the brain works better, comparing information from different sources."
Hermione leaned back in her chair, sweeping a tired gaze over the barricades of books on the table.
"Maybe you need help with sothing?"
"Help? No, Hermione. Unless later, in the sumr, with Arithmancy. I thought I'd study it on my own. The textbooks are quite good, understandable, and without any 'water'."
"Eh... That's true. I wish they were all like that. The textbooks, I an."
After talking, we each set about our studies. In the dark hours, the library was lit by the soft and dim yellow light of lamps, creating a cozy atmosphere for reading and working with books. So we engaged in that very reading, but the silence didn't last even half a minute.
"Hector."
"Yeah?" I looked up from my book at Hermione.
"You spoke about the families of the wizarding world. What about Greengrass?"
"Want to know," I smirked slightly, "if I'm guided by rcenary goals in communicating with Daphne?"
"No, of course not! Just curious..."
I set the book aside and, propping my head on my hand, began to recall the scattered data on this family.
"Like the Blacks, considered Most Ancient and Noble. Their roots are sowhere on the continent, and they ca here, like so others, including the Malfoys, as part of the magical contingent of William the Bastard's conquest campaign. By the way, it was thanks to the support of three wizards from the Greengrass family, who bore a different surna back then, that the Battle of Hastings was such a success. Malfoy also distinguished himself, organizing logistics in foreign lands."
"I didn't think wizards participated so actively in the lives of ordinary people."
"So it is written in various books, articles, historical records," I spread my hands. "I think with the introduction of the Statute of Secrecy, a lot was cut out. And don't be misled—the governnts of ordinary and magical countries are well aware of each other and cooperate. And cutting everything unnecessary out of the chronicles is a trifling matter. Write what you want, and in a hundred years there will be no witnesses left, there will be only one truth—the one written in the 'correct' books."
"That is interesting," Hermione also put aside her books, looking at . "Anything else interesting known about them?"
"Greengrass, like Malfoy, and Black too—are among the richest. Included in the 'Sacred Twenty-Eight'. Their sphere of business interests is quite wide, mainly related to the import of various things and establishing local production of various analogues through so-called reverse engineering."
"aning?"
"What can you do," I shrugged. "If you believe the records, Magical Britain is very conservative and thus lags behind other countries in the creation of various magical artifacts and devices designed to facilitate or improve various spheres of life, production, and everyday existence. But we are strong in direct wand magic, and our wizards, on average, are much more versatile and self-sufficient."
Outside the window we were sitting next to, the wind howled faintly. The weather decided to worsen towards the night, which wasn't very pleasing.
"A-a-and?" Hermione drawled, craving a continuation.
"And nothing. Daphne and I are just colleagues. Just a normal girl."
"Ahem," behind us, from around the turn between the shelves, ca an unambiguous cough, attracting our attention.
Turning to the sound, I noticed Daphne erging, hugging a book, with her usual mask of coldness and indifference on her face. I had noticed the presence of an outsider long ago, but the sensations were familiar, and our conversation was by no ans secret, so I hadn't created eavesdropping charms.
"Granger," she nodded.
"Greengrass."
Hermione rolled her eyes to the ceiling, expressing her attitude toward such forms of address. Daphne ca closer.
"I don't want a slight misunderstanding to affect the quality of our joint work in Potions."
"Good start," I nodded with a smile and pulled out a free chair for the girl, but Daphne shook her head.
"So unpleasant individuals considered that our communication crossed the boundaries acceptable for colleagues. These individuals notified my parents, and they, in turn, undertook a series of educational asures along with restrictions."
"My sympathies."
"I sympathize with myself too, Granger. Anyway, I ca to tell you not to take my demonstrative ignoring of your person personally."
"Understood. Maybe I should send cakes to your parents too?"
That question made both Hermione and Daphne slightly surprised.
"Well, why not? There are cakes called 'Tender' and 'Kindness', aren't there? If you believe the description in the nu, they should turn even a stale bureaucrat into a soft pudding."
Hermione shook her head, putting her hand to her face with a bitter chuckle, while Daphne smiled very, very faintly.
"You can try," the brunette replied. "But I don't think sothing like that can smooth over the fact of your origin."
"See, Hector!" Hermione spoke quietly but it sounded as if she shouted, pointing an accusing finger at Daphne. "Slytherins only think about blood purity."
"Oh, co on, 'Mione," I waved it off. "That's like reproaching a resident of the Vatican for being a Christian."
"But the main thing is what kind of wizard you are," Hermione was indignant.
"Right, I said what I wanted, and you argue about morality yourselves," Greengrass smirked. "Good evening."
Smirked, and left.
"'Mione. I've understood the magical world a little. Yes, a wizard's power and knowledge are important here, but until you surpass everyone by a head, or better yet, a couple of tis over in these paraters, it doesn't matter much."
"That can't be true," my sister shook her head stubbornly. "Talent and hard work will always pave a way in life."
"Let's put it this way," I leaned back in my chair. "Imagine you're an immigrant from Africa in the US in the sixties. The degree of public disdain would be about the sa, but without excessive radicalism."
"That's terrible. That needs to be changed," Hermione nodded importantly, pulling her books toward her.
"Well, good luck. Going into politics? Personally, I've marked out a different path for myself, and I hope to achieve sothing significant. Healing," I answered my sister's silent question, and we continued reading books.
I'll have to find a reason to get Daphne to talk more about the details soti. I'm not touchy, of course, but purely on a human level, I want to better know and understand the reasons and essence of what's happening.
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