The End of The Dark Era

"Oh, bloody hell!"

The library was a mess. And by a mess, I mean it looked like a herd of drunk hippogriffs had sung ballads and had a blasted party in the cramped space..

Books were askew here and there, and Madam Pince was noticeably absent. Maybe she'd had an aneurysm from seeing her beloved in tatters.

I conjured a small couch beside a cracked window and went in search of an interesting book to read.

My perusal of the Restricted section did me little good, despite being allowed unrestricted access, what with the fall of the Dark Lord and all.

I mindlessly trailed my hands across the last remaining bookshelf, fingertips sliding over dusty old tomes and rough paperbacks yellowed with age as I walked over to the last row of books on the right. The explosion must not have reached them, given that they were tucked so far back into the recesses of the library that I doubted anybody had ever come to collect a book from the bookshelf.

My fingertips suddenly snagged on a fractured, freezing cold surface. My footsteps paused, and I doubled back to catch a glimpse. It was a book.

I rolled my eyes at myself. 'Well, no shit, Hermione.'

I pulled it out. It was frigid to the touch, and the cover was dusted with crystals of frozen water droplets that nipped at my hands like the most vicious frostbite.

I squinted to read the title.

Bestiarium Magicum: A Theory – by Wilbert Slinkhart.

On the first page was scrawled, 'To the wielder of hope -dear Firenze, as the gift that keeps on giving -endless knowledge'

By the 2010s, during the Calamity, volunteer members of the Statute of Secrecy Task Force had returned a copy of Bestiarium Magicum to Firenze. I vaguely remembered him a whole stack of books to the Hogwarts library as a gesture of goodwill.

This one must've been among them.

I flopped on the couch, conjuring myself a blanket and wrapping it around myself like a burrito as I began to read…

I emerged from the library two hours later, shivering, fingers numb from holding the book for so long. That…that was an extremely dark book. It radiated Dark Magic. How had I not been able to sense it?

I suppose the cold must have masked the underlying hint of the Forbidden Arts.

One year ago, it would have meant nothing to me. But now… it contained rituals, ancient spells whispering of immortality, of Fae magicks that could save a dying soul. It spoke to me of people turned beasts, lured over by their animal forms. It spoke of a lure, that once tasted, could not be resisted. And I, an Animagus, was the perfect bait.

I quickened my pace towards the Gryffindor dormitories. It was dark already, and Ron and Harry would be worrying… I stopped.

The war was over. I could do whatever the fuck I wanted.

Why was I in a rush, again? A curl of darkness slithered its way into my mind. I resumed walking, this time faster than before, but with a new destination in mind.

I would…treat myself.

My footsteps led me to a portrait of fruit, and almost as if in a dream, I tickled the pear. The door swung open.

As usual, it was uncannily similar to a fish market. House elves bustled about, trails of magic flowing in their wake, carrying washed dishes and platters piled high with food.

Lanterns floated high above, casting trails of shadow, enshrouding the tall pillars holding up the vaulted ceiling in pitch black. I made my way inside and to a table, nostrils flaring at the overstimulation, rich scents of vanilla and spice bombarding my senses.

A house elf with slightly enlarged ears made her way over to my side. "What can Cooky be doing for Miss?"

"Well, Cooky, I was hoping to grab a bite to eat. Sleeplessness and all that." I forced a smile, though I'm sure it must have come out as more of a grimace.

"Would Miss be liking something sweet? Or savory?"

"Sweet, please." And then she was gone with a flap of her ears.

I had to wait less than a minute before I was presented with a healthy serving of blueberry cheesecake. I thanked her and went to a shadowed corner to devour my feast. I had skipped dinner, and ravenousness poked at my stomach like a, well, hungry beast.

I don't know why, but I had felt kind of…exposed, sitting down with my plate while they all worked. I sat down against the wall, sliding down it until I was comfortable. Raising the first bite to my lips, I closed my eyes in mock-bliss, savoring the taste in my mouth.

This was, by far, the most peaceful I had ever been. Alone.

Sleep lurked close by, and I succumbed to its lull. It would only be a short nap…

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A whimper tore its way from my lips as something touched the edges of my consciousness. I felt a cold pressure on my hand, and then…and then…

Two bright, agonizingly silver eyes glared at me from beneath my chokehold. I had grabbed the hand clutching my arm and used it as a lock to slam him onto the floor.

Muscle memory aided me when my mind couldn't. My hair was loose around me, freed from the rubber band I had used to tie it earlier during the tussle.

I blinked. It was past midnight already. The kitchens were dark, empty. All the house elves had retired for the night. I imagine they didn't want to waste the few hours of sleep they were able to get.

And apart from that grey glint, I was utterly and completely blind.

The silver eyes slowly fluttered closed. I didn't bother releasing my hands from his throat.

My wand lay unused in my pocket. Big mistake. His subtly poked into my side, the silver of his eyes now mere slits on his face. When I didn't lessen the pressure, he used a nonverbal slicing hex.

I felt the wand cut gently, long trails of shining red droplets shimmering across my pale skin.

I stepped away from him.

"Good to see you too, Granger," He rasped, massaging his throat, his wand hand still pointed at me. "Lumos."

"Touch me again and you die." I didn't so much as blink, bending down to retrieve my hair tie in the flickering light.

"Funny thing about choking, they actually need to cut off someone's air supply to work. A little something you might have missed while reading the manual," He observed snidely.

"I wasn't aiming for your breath, Malfoy. I was aiming to cut off your blood supply. Too bad you didn't stay down long enough like the vermin you belong among." I snapped, trying to make my way across to the portrait entrance, and possibly avoid smashing into anything.

I took a step forward and immediately started wobbling. Black spots were swimming in front of my eyes. 'I must have gotten up too fast,' I thought hazily.

My steps didn't falter, though. I would show that piece of shit.

Apart from the tables here and there, and the utensils stacked mile-high on the side, I miraculously avoided falling on my face. I glanced back before climbing out of the portrait hole, and he was still there. A silhouette framed against the light of his wand, now resting at his side. He hadn't bothered to lift it.

Hadn't considered me a big enough threat.

I scowled. Pompous git.

I vaguely recalled walking to the Gryffindor dorms after that, appetite dead, while the book's words ate away at me. I'd had this void inside me for so long, I had forgotten it was there. Swallowing up my emotions, one by one, locking them away in my heart.

With a jolt, I realized that I didn't know what I was feeling. Just that I was shuttered off from it, isolated, separate. My emotions were so thoroughly entwined within each other, that I couldn't differentiate between the deeper ones anymore. I couldn't even begin to describe it. That feeling…it had become permanently lodged in my bones.

Constantly self-aware, en route to the making of a cold-hearted, maniacal madwoman.

When was the last time I had really, truly laughed? Not to please, not to cover up secrets, not to beguile or bewitch, nor to fake politeness, but genuinely?

Sitting in the common room later that night, I had huddled up in front of the fire and watched the wood burn. There was something ethereal about the flames. They were bewitching and lethal in their own way. Flickering, casting shadows, dancing to the tunes of some unknown song that only they could hear. The embers had been bright beneath the flames, their fiery glow deep and enchanting. I had witnessed the simmering heat waves, spiraling up into the air and taking views into a whole new perspective, showering sparks occasionally springing from the depths of the fire.

Class started tomorrow.

Telling myself sternly to just go to fucking bed already made no difference. Sleep had not come easy.