human again / hp.

Chapter 122

The library was quiet in the way that made my mind feel sharper, like every breath and movement carried more weight here. Rows and rows of books towered around me, each shelf a silent witness to hundreds of secrets and sleepless nights. The air smelled like parchment and something older, something dry and ancient. I liked it. I had always liked it.

I slipped between the rows like a shadow. My robes brushed softly against the edges of the shelves as I made my way toward the far back corner. No one ever came back here unless they were looking for something they were not meant to find. I reached the third shelf down, two rows from the end, and bent to scan the dusty titles.

Still there.

Still boring.

Still unread.

I reached behind two thick volumes titled Numerology of the Wandless Mind and The Ethics of Enchanted Parchment, the exact place I had tucked it away the night before.

My fingers grasped nothing.

I blinked.

No.

I reached again, parting the books more forcefully now. Dust scattered into the air. I coughed lightly and searched the shelf more thoroughly. I pulled one of the front books off completely and set it on the floor. The gap behind it was empty.

It was gone.

Panic rippled in my chest like frost cracking underfoot.

I stood quickly and turned to scan the rest of the shelves. Maybe someone moved it. Maybe Madam Pince had found it and tucked it away in the Restricted Section again. But why now? No one came back here. No one ever touched that shelf.

I searched three aisles. Then five. I ignored the tightening in my throat and the way my hands started trembling as I pulled book after book from the shelves, checking their titles with mounting desperation. I needed that text. It was the only solid lead Draco and I had. Without it, we were back to nothing. To theory. To impossible guesses.

I moved down one aisle, then another, until I found myself in the darker end of the library where the lamplight didn't reach as well. It smelled of parchment and something older than time. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think. Trying not to scream.

Then a voice came from behind me. Soft. Careful.

"Looking for this?"

I turned so fast my vision blurred for a second.

Hermione Granger stood a few feet away, holding the book delicately in both hands. Her eyes met mine with quiet intensity. Not angry. Just... curious. But wary. Always wary, now.

My heart sank.

I knew that look. It was the look you gave a friend who had become a stranger.

"Give it to me," I said, stepping forward.

She held it tighter. Her knuckles went pale.

"I saw you take it," she said. "From the Restricted Section. Then you came back and hid it. I was going to ask you about it but..."

She hesitated. Her voice faltered.

"You haven't really been talking to us."

I stayed silent. My pulse was loud in my ears.

Hermione opened the book slightly and flipped through a few pages. "Why do you need this, Celeste? It's not like you to hide books. Especially not something this... obscure. And dark. I've read some of it. You're not studying this for school."