A Gang of Slytherins - Oneshot Collection

Library

My shoes click and squeak on the smooth wooden floor of the library. The storm outside grumbles and rain pummels the roof as I shepherd my heavy, book-filled satchel over to a table in the corner, where my friends Mattheo and Pansy are already studying, parchment and ink bottles blanketing the table. I wonder wryly whether the tables are charmed to hold an infinite weight.

'Hey, can I sit with you guys?'

'Sure,' they both smile, and attempt to make space on the loaded tabletop. I stop them, 'No need. I'm just going to read.' They resume studying while I squash in next to Pansy, dumping my satchel on the ground next to the seat with a thud before pulling out my copy of Care of Magical Creatures - a collection of  illustrations. Pansy notices my book and gives me a playful poke. 'You and your animals. Haven't you had a near-death experience in any of Hagrid's lessons yet?' 'Well, I like Hagrid, he's nice. And you're only saying that because Draco had an arm injury.' I retort, rolling my eyes. 

'That isn't why. I'm talking about all the weird gross animal things that want to eat you, Maria'

'Somebody's in a bad mood today' Mattheo says, unfurling some more parchment. Pansy gives a little huff before dipping her quill into an ink pot unnecessarily hard. I just shake my head with a smile before cracking open my library book. The beautiful smell of old paper, ink, and incense fill my nose, making me dream of libraries the size of palaces, filled with velvety, royal purple cushions with gold-threaded edges, and ebony shelves packed full of ancient tomes with delicate, feathery paper and fading dark green ink. 

I flick through the pages until I find what I'm looking for - Unicorns. 

"The unicorn was a white horse with a horn sticking out of its head. An iconic creature of magic, the existence of unicorns was one of the worst-kept secrets of the wizarding world, as unicorns were inextricably associated with magic in the Muggle world (see. Muggles and Creatures, page 93)"

I gaze at the magic photograph of a beautiful silvery-white stallion swishing the soft, thick hair sprouting from its tail and handsome mane. A great horn of ivory extended from it's forehead, light catching the ridges. The horse repeatedly rose on its muscled haunches, neighing mutely. There's a little scrawl next to the image, where someone who previously borrowed the book made a note:

Tail hair used for wand cores. Charlie's core?

I subconsciously remember that Draco's wand has a unicorn hair for it's core. I read on, my mind filled with unicorns and wands and libraries as the clouds grumble quietly outside, the warmth of the candle next to me heating my skin, the sound of Mattheo and Pansy's quills scratching across the paper and the occasional whispers and footsteps from the other tables in the library, and the smell of books, ink, and crisp parchment drifting into my nose. Slowly, my book swallows me whole, and I become aware of my surroundings no more.

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