The Hollow Beneath Hogwarts

94. Don't Speak

"This is so bloody frustrating!"

The book slammed shut with enough force to make dust jump from the ancient cover.

Several nearby stacks wobbled dangerously. One tower actually leaned.

Draco instinctively reached out and caught it before a dozen heavy books could topple onto the floor. "Careful."

"I am being careful."

"You just assaulted a book."

"It deserved it."

Draco laughed quietly.

The Malfoy library had become their prison for the afternoon. Not that either of them would admit that out loud. The room itself was beautiful.

Floor-to-ceiling shelves lined every wall. Dark wood bookcases stretched upward so high that ladders were required to reach the top shelves. Large windows overlooked the snow-covered grounds. A fire crackled in the enormous marble fireplace.

Outside, winter had transformed everything into white and silver.

Inside, however, the atmosphere was considerably less magical. Mostly because they had spent the better part of six hours reading. And had learned absolutely nothing useful.

Sloane buried her face in her hands. "How can there be so little information?" She gestured wildly at the mountains of books surrounding them. "This family owns half the books in Britain."

"Probably more."

"And not one of them is useful."

Draco looked down at the book he had just finished. Then tossed it onto the growing pile of rejected research.

"To be fair."

Sloane glared. "I hate it when you start a sentence with that."

Draco smirked. "To be fair..." She threw a bookmark at him. "...we have learned a few things."

"Nothing important."

"We confirmed the markings."

"We already knew that."

"The soul connection."

"We already knew that."

"The past lives."

"We already knew that."

"The destined lovers thing."

"We definitely already knew that."

Draco sighed. "Okay."

"Exactly." Sloane leaned back in her chair dramatically. "So basically we've spent all day discovering information we already possessed."

"Apparently."

She groaned loudly. "If I read one more sentence about eternal love and interconnected souls, I might actually throw myself out the window."

Goose looked up from the window seat. The Niffler had somehow escaped all responsibility for the research project. He was currently curled into a mountain of cushions in the bay window. A blanket covered his legs. His little reading glasses sat crookedly on his nose.

And he was happily reading a copy of The Wind in the Willows.

Outside the snow drifted gently from the sky.

Inside Goose looked like the most content creature in Britain. He raised his hand up and tapped Draco's wand. Draco knew exactly what he meant and cast the familiar spell to allow the little Niffler to speak.