The Library of Alexandria

Part Two

Titles which Hermione Granger would think to give Draco Malfoy: King of Prats; Lord of Gits; insatiable gossip; motormouth; twitchy little ferret; foul, loathsome, evil, little cockroach; inbred welp; pointy-faced, smarmy bastard.

Titles which Hermione Granger would not think to, nor have any intention of giving Draco Malfoy: surprise husband; future father of her children.

Funny how magic tends to interfere with things.

When Hermione recovered herself she found she was lying on the ground with Malfoy atop her in a suddenly silent library. The screaming wards had abruptly ceased.

That was not a comfort. In her experience, it was when screaming abruptly stopped that the most unfortunate things tended to occur.

Malfoy scrambled off of her.

"What happened?" he said, glancing around wildly.

Hermione looked around the room, her eyes narrowed. "Well, we're still in the library, it seems," she said.

"Breathtaking insight, truly. One hundred points to Gryffindor," Malfoy said, glaring at her and seemingly searching about for his wand.

She looked around again, everything appeared normal. Except—the lights were out and there was a sort of blanketed sensation of magic over the room.

She suddenly grew horrified.

"We're in the ward!" She squeaked and clapped her hands over her mouth. "We fell into the ward with the books! Oh sweet Circe!"

Malfoy glanced around, looking baffled. "How is that even possible?"

"It's how the Library of Alexadria contains some of the books," she said with a despairing whimper. "The magic can't be suppressed, but you can channel it into its own dimension so that it can't express itself out in the real world. It doesn't work well with most of the subjects, but they use it in the history room because biographies as old as these ones tend to make ghosts. We make a ward that allows them to roam about in a sort of—pocket dimension."

Malfoy looked bewildered.

"Why do you need to contain ghosts? Can't you just let them wander?"

Hermione shook her head vigorously. "Book ghosts aren't like regular ghosts. They're not really ghosts so much as the magic becoming sentient and manifesting as the subject from the book. They can actually become corporeal and sometimes they even use magic. That's why we can contain and restrict them, but it also means that if we're in here—they're as real as we are—and also—related to you." Her eyes were wide and she kept glancing anxiously around the room.

Suddenly someone giggled.

Someone who wasn't Malfoy—Hermione had never heard Malfoy giggle, but she imagined if he ever did it wouldn't be quite so sultry and feminine sounding.

Suddenly a woman emerged from a shelf. Except she was enormous. Well over twelve feet tall.

"Oooooh." The woman cooed. "She's so clever.

Sweet Circe—it was Circe! Actual Circe, the ancient Grecian enchantress.

Malfoy and Hermione were both gaping as Circe approached them. Towering over them until she was within her arms' reach, then she proceeded to place an enormous hand on Malfoy's blond head.

"You're my descendant!" Circe said delightedly, rustling his hair and tickling him behind his ears in a way that seemed to make him look distinctly uncomfortable.

The air shivered as it seemed ghosts popped out of almost every few book in the room. All of them considerably taller than a normal human.

"A descendent?" they were all asking and crowding around to appraise Malfoy. Like giant children with a new doll, gently turning him and prodding him as though to inspect him from all angles.